Arsenal fans had been enjoying themselves lately, pleasantly surprised by their team's strong league form.
Even in the FA Cup, they were cruising comfortably through the rounds.
There was an almost surreal quality to this Arsenal side. On paper, they didn't look like title contenders—but somehow, they just kept winning.
Something had clearly shifted. This wasn't the same Arsenal.
At the Arsenal Training Base, Chamberlain walked into the locker room brimming with energy. He'd been featured in London Sport the day before. It wasn't a major piece, but it was enough to make him proud.
After four straight wins, the mood in the locker room was light and optimistic.
"Right, let's see who's next on the chopping block," Chamberlain said with a grin, pulling out his phone to check the schedule.
The others chuckled as he scrolled.
But then, a voice spoke calmly from the corner.
"Next opponent—Bayern Munich."
Chamberlain froze. Slowly, he turned toward the voice. Kai was sitting there, arms folded, a knowing shrug on his face.
Chamberlain's smile vanished as he switched from the league fixtures to the Champions League.
February 19.
Round of16.
Arsenal vs Bayern Munich.
His face went pale.
Kai exhaled softly. Bayern's 2012/13 squad was no joke. The reigning kings of Europe. They'd dismantled Barcelona, and now stood as the most terrifying side in football.
Their lineup was stacked with talent in peak form—Mandzukic, Robben, Ribéry, Schweinsteiger, Lahm, Boateng, Neuer, Muller, Gomez. It was a super team.
Even with Arsenal at full strength, few would bet on them. And they weren't even close to full strength.
If anyone could challenge Bayern, it was Klopp's Dortmund—with Lewandowski, Reus, Götze, Gundogan, Hummels. But Bayern had started picking Dortmund apart too.
It was just Arsenal's luck. A golden Bayern team, following years of prime Barcelona.
Another brutal Champions League draw.
"The tactical room—now!"
Captain Vermaelen stepped in, snapping everyone to attention.
Kai stood, gave Chamberlain a pat on the back, and led the way.
Inside the tactical room, Wenger was already drawing formations on the whiteboard. The coaches were in position. Players filtered in and took their seats.
Sitting in the front row was a familiar face—Rosicky.
The players lit up.
"Rosický!" someone grinned.
"Welcome back!"
Rosický smiled warmly. The weeks spent recovering from injury had been agonizing. Now, he was back.
He turned to Kai with a sincere expression. "You've done well, man. You led us well."
Kai gave him a pat on the shoulder. "It's nothing. Just glad you're back. We'll carry on together now."
Rosicky chuckled. "No way. You're the engine now. I'm following your lead."
Wenger cleared his throat. "Alright, everyone—settle in."
He moved aside, revealing the tactical board.
"Our next Champions League opponent is Bayern Munich."
The room went quiet. Expressions sobered.
This Bayern side was the last team anyone wanted to draw.
Wenger began outlining their system.
From the back, Neuer in goal—arguably the best in the world. Alaba and Lahm commanding the flanks. Boateng and Dante forming a rock-solid center.
Midfield? Schweinsteiger and Martinez—one a general, the other a machine. Together, they anchored a flawless 4-2-3-1.
Then came Robben and Ribéry—the fabled Robbery pairing, at the peak of their powers.
Add Muller, Kroos, and strikers like Mandzukic and Gomez, and you have a squad that could batter any opponent.
Just looking at the lineup made Kai's stomach twist.
How were they supposed to deal with that?
A nudge in his ribs brought him back to earth.
Chamberlain leaned over and whispered, "The professor's talking to you."
Kai snapped to attention. "Yes, Coach! I'm listening!"
The room burst into laughter.
A moment of levity—perhaps the last one before facing the German giants.
Wenger shook his head with a smile. "Don't space out. You're up next."
Kai straightened up. "Got it!"
"I'll be placing you on the right side of the midfield. Your task is simple—mark Robben."
The room fell silent in an instant.
Kai blinked in disbelief. Surely, he'd heard that wrong.
"Mark Robben?"
His voice was full of surprise.
Wenger nodded. "That's right. Problem?"
Faced with Wenger's expectant look, Kai nodded assuredly.
Everyone knows Robben loves to cut inside, but the whole world knows it, and no one can stop it.
Maybe in a few years, he'd be ready to square off against someone like Robben.
This version of Robben, though? Still a monster.
How could this be a simple task?
He couldn't imagine the physical and mental toll of Foresight in the match.
But Kai wasn't a quitter; if that was what was needed for Arsenal to win, then so be it.
Seeing the resolute expression on his face, Wenger sighed inwardly with pride.
But if there were any other option, he wouldn't have handed this job to Kai, an eighteen-year-old, no matter how talented he is.
But looking at the current Arsenal squad, Kai was still the one most capable of limiting Robben's influence.
Everyone else would just get torn apart.
Now, Wenger could only hope Kai could rise to the occasion.
The tactical meeting continued for over an hour, with Wenger carefully laying out the game plan.
The players paid close attention throughout.
Kai, once he'd accepted his assignment, stopped worrying. He focused fully on the tactics and made sure to coordinate his defensive responsibilities.
When the session ended and Wenger and the coaching staff began to file out, Kai quickly pulled Pat Rice aside.
"What's up?" Pat turned around, smiling.
Kai said earnestly, "I want some training in preparation for Robben."
Pat said. "I would come to you anyway. Points for proactiveness."
Pat then turned and called out, "Johnson, toss me the key!"
Paul Johnson glanced at Kai and hesitated. "The boss said no training."
Just then, a voice echoed from the hallway.
"Let them."
Wenger's voice cut through clearly.
Johnson shrugged and tossed the key over to Pat, who turned to Kai with a smirk. "Come on, let's go!"
Kai followed immediately.
There were only three people on the training pitch—Pat, Kai, and Rosicky, who'd been dragged along as a practice dummy.
With his all-around footwork, Rosicky was perfect for the role.
Pat placed the ball at his feet and addressed Kai. "Robben's biggest threat is his change of pace. His foot frequency is crazy high—he can blow past players with just a quick pull or feint. His body fakes are world-class and can easily trick defenders."
"The real danger, though, is his spatial awareness. He always keeps enough distance to either pass or break through. Normally, you'd need two players to handle him. But since you're doing it solo, you'll need to be aggressive!"
Kai blinked. "I was thinking the same thing."
"Exactly," Pat said. "You've got a great instinct for reading passes and anticipating steals. Most of his tricks won't work on you. Your weakness is just pure speed, so never let him run past you from a distance."
Kai nodded. That made sense. His Foresight for anticipation was his greatest strength—something he'd always relied on.
"So, what you need to focus on is keeping your balance. Don't shift too heavily in one direction. Keep your center of gravity neutral, and pounce when the moment is right."
"And remember—when you go, you go. No hesitation. Robben will exploit even a moment's pause. You either get the ball or the man. Understood?"
Kai nodded firmly.
"Good!" Pat turned to Rosicky. "Alright, you two—go at it!"
The one-on-one drills began right away.
But as soon as the first move came, Rosicky could already feel the pressure.
No matter how many feints or fakes he tried, Kai wasn't biting.
Every time he tried to shift or break past, Kai was right there, leg extended at just the right moment.
Rosický, nicknamed The Little Mozart for a reason, had elite footwork.
But even he kept getting shut down.
It started okay, but as his stamina waned, he began to feel increasingly rattled.
What kind of monster is this?
Out of 30 one-on-one attempts, Kai picked him off 28 times.
Was he messing with my head?
Rosicky vaguely remembered how sharp Kai had been before his injury, especially with interceptions. But this level was just… insane.
On the sidelines, Pat Rice watched with growing satisfaction.
In his eyes, Kai was exactly the type of player who could shut Robben down.
Strong stamina. Excellent anticipation.
Robben feeds on players who lack either. Kai had both in spades.
If you're too soft physically, Robben powers through you.
If you can't read the play, he dances around you.
But with both?
Then maybe—just maybe—Kai could give Arsenal a real surprise.
No guarantees, but worth the gamble.