Darkness but not empty.
It was the kind of dark that hummed — thick, heavy, alive. Like it was watching me.
I floated inside it, weightless. No pitch. No boots. No pain. Just… silence. A deep, suffocating silence that felt like the pause before a penalty kick.
Then — a whisper.
Not words, not yet. Just something brushing past my ear like wind.
Shhhk…
I blinked, or thought I did. Hard to tell when there's no body to blink with. But something changed. A flicker of light, far away. Like a match striking in the void.
And with it came sound.
A crowd.
Faint at first then a murmur. Then louder. Roaring and chanting.
"¡Alejandro! ¡Alejandro! ¡ALEJANDRO!"
My name.
I knew that sound. I had dreamed of that sound.
Chants echoing through a stadium so massive, the stars themselves seemed to orbit it. A place I'd never been — but somehow remembered.
Then the light grew stronger, and suddenly I wasn't floating anymore.
I was standing.
On grass. Not turf, real, impossible grass. Damp with morning dew, glowing faintly in the floodlights above.
Except there were no floodlights. The light came from… everywhere.
Endless stands surrounded me. Empty seats stretching into eternity. And above them, banners — waving without wind.
Old names. Familiar ones.
Camp Nou.
Maracanã.
San Siro.
Santiago Bernabéu.
Old Trafford.
Estadio de las Leyendas.
I spun around, heart hammering. My breath fogged the air — or was it smoke? Mist? Memory?
Then I heard the footsteps.
Slow, calm and rhythmic. Like someone juggling time with each step.
He came out of the mist first, smiling with that effortless swagger. Hair tied back, black shirt and sandals.
Ronaldinho.
Spinning a ball on one finger like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like gravity was optional.
He winked.
"Finally woke up, eh?" he said, his Brazilian Portuguese accent warm like sunlight.
Behind him, more emerged. One by one. Familiar faces. Impossible presences.
Buffon, gloves hanging loose at his side. Calm as a mountain.
Messi, small, quiet, eyes sharper than blades.
Cristiano Ronaldo, standing tall, arms crossed, his gaze locked straight through me.
Zidane, bald, balanced, his very stillness intimidating.
Neymar, laughing at something only he heard.
And more.
Okocha.
Marta.
Xavi.
Names carved in time. Players whose highlights I had studied frame by frame. Whose moves I mimicked on my rooftop pitch. Whose posters lined my wall.
They formed a circle around me.
My legs shook.
"What is this?" I asked.
Zidane looked up, speaking for the first time. His voice sounded like a football strategy.
"This is legacy."
Messi stepped forward. "This is memory."
Cristiano's eyes narrowed. "This is your moment."
Ronaldinho grinned again. "And this... is the system."
A light flared above me, bright, blue and electric.
A screen — transparent, crystalline — blinked into existence like magic and code had a baby.
> [GOAT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
My jaw dropped.
"What the hell—"
> Skill Unlocked: Vision (Xavi)
Trait Unlocked: Elastic Control (Ronaldinho)
Mission 1: Qualify for the Intergalactic Youth Cup
> Welcome, Future GOAT.
I stumbled back. "Wait, what—? Is this a game? A dream? What is this?!"
Buffon spoke. "Not a dream. Not a game."
Marta nodded. "A responsibility."
"You've been chosen," Messi said.
"Not just to play," Neymar added, spinning a holo-ball on his finger. "To restore."
"To bring Earth back," said Xavi. "Where it belongs."
Cristiano stepped forward, only inches from me now. His eyes bore into mine like he was passing me the weight of everything he'd ever carried.
"You want to be the greatest?"
I swallowed.
He pointed to the screen still hovering in the air.
"Then start acting like it."
And just like that—
BOOM.
The ground cracked beneath me.
The sky shattered like glass.
The crowd erupted into an explosion of noise. A billion phantom voices screaming my name.
"ALEJANDRO! ALEJANDRO!"
And the last thing I saw was Ronaldinho's grin stretching wider as he whispered:
"Time to wake up, champ."
---
I gasped, my eyes wide and my chest heaving.
Hospital ceiling, beeping monitors, sterile lights and the screen — still there.
Floating inches above my face.
> [GOAT SYSTEM ONLINE]
My hands trembled and I knew...
I wasn't dreaming.