Monday, January 5th – Recovery Morning
The buzz hadn't faded yet.
The 7–1 training match from Saturday was still echoing in whispers down hallways and across the gym, even if no one dared bring it up out loud. Not directly.
Azim's performance had broken something open.
Six goals. No wasted touches. No second guesses.
Still, Monday morning was reset day. Ice baths. Yoga. Foam rolling in a silent room of aching limbs and hidden pride.
Azim was already deep into his stretches when Sinclair dropped beside him with a groan.
"Bro, my legs still hurt from that back-post goal you smacked in past me."
Azim chuckled. "Maybe don't give me that much space next time."
Jerome Sinclair grinned, but then his voice dropped a little.
"For real though… how did you get this sharp all of a sudden? You've always been strong, but now it's like you're reading everything."
Azim hesitated. Then shrugged.
"I'm just seeing things differently. Focusing on my next move before the ball even comes."
Sinclair nodded slowly. "Mind if I join your extra drills sometime?"
"Course not," Azim said. "We all want to eat."
Jerome bumped fists with him. "Respect, Asia Boy."
Across the room, laughter broke out around a table where Brooks Lennon and Joe Hardy were bantering with the younger keepers.
Azim smiled and turned back to his stretch.
Later – Dorm Room 112
Azim stepped into his shared room to the sight of scattered boots and a half-finished protein shake.
"Yo," muttered his roommate, Dan Cleary, half-buried under a hoodie and watching match highlights on his phone.
"You stretch yet?" Azim asked, tossing his towel onto his bed.
"Gonna do it later."
"You said that yesterday."
Dan groaned. "You're too responsible now. What happened to staying up and watching Liga MX reruns with me?"
Azim laughed. "Grew up. Or something."
Dan sat up and looked at him more carefully. "Nah… you're different. You move different. Play different. I don't know what happened, but it's working."
Azim paused.
"Appreciate that."
They shared a nod.
Tuesday – 10:15 AM, Training Pitch
The tempo had shifted.
The squad moved sharper. Talked more. Pushed harder. It wasn't just Azim anymore—it was the ripple effect.
During a 6v6 positional drill, Azim acted as pivot. Rossiter pressed him hard—Azim turned, held off the pressure, and slipped the ball diagonally to Canos (LW), who one-timed it into Dhanda's path.
Dhanda's shot rattled the post. Everyone shouted.
From the sideline, Brooks Lennon muttered to Toni Gomes, "He's like a fulcrum now. We just orbit around him."
Toni replied, "I think the game's just slower for him."
They weren't wrong.
"IS: Pass map: optimal. Defender commitment predicted. Delay: 0.3 sec. Outlet: Dhanda arriving."
It wasn't just slower. It was clearer.
Wednesday – 2:00 PM, Finishing Flow
Trent and Azim had become a quiet storm in their own right. Their drills clicked without talking now.
Overlap. Whip. Tap.
Pull wide. Wait. Diagonal slot pass.
Coach Lewtas didn't even instruct anymore—he just let them run.
Even the defenders stopped complaining.
Joe Maguire grumbled at first—"Easy when you're the golden pair"—but the next time Azim offered him a fist bump after getting fouled, he didn't refuse it.
Later, Maguire passed him a bottle of water during cool down.
Progress.
Thursday – 3:30 PM, Outside the Media Room
Azim was finishing a protein bar when someone in sleek shoes and a puffy jacket stepped toward him.
"Azim, yeah?"
He looked up.
"Name's Marcus. I represent young talent. Not officially yet, not until contracts and all that. But I help position players. Visibility. Advice. Branding."
Azim raised an eyebrow.
"Not interested."
Marcus chuckled. "No hard sell. Just info."
"Still no."
"You're turning heads, Azim. You'll need someone eventually."
"I'll know when it's time."
Marcus gave a slow, reluctant nod and left.
Trent arrived seconds later, stretching his legs.
"Another agent?"
Azim nodded.
Trent frowned. "That's gonna start happening more, huh?"
Azim didn't answer.
Because yeah—it was.
Friday – Tactical Briefing Room
Coach Lewtas stood at the whiteboard.
"Bolton. Saturday. Eddie Davies Academy. Tall squad. Physical. But flat-footed in recovery. They don't like to chase long."
He circled their centre-backs.
"These two? Both over 6'3. They dominate in the air. But turn slow. So we break wide, and we cut in when they're turning."
He looked up.
"Azim, drag them. Trent, keep feeding. Canos, Wilson—attack second phases."
The squad murmured.
This was no longer a friendly. It was the league. Points on the table. Reputation building.
Friday – 2:00 PM, Finishing Drills
The session started crisp. Trent feeding from the right. Canos from the left.
Azim rotated through different angles, different touches.
Volley. One-touch. Spin shot. Chip.
Every finish hit net. Every finish clean.
From the sideline, Sinclair watched silently. Then stepped up and started shadowing his runs.
"You joining in?" Azim asked.
"Just watching for now," Sinclair replied. "But tomorrow… I'm keeping up."
Azim grinned. "That's what I want to hear."
Friday Night – Dorms, 9:27 PM
Azim lay on his bed, watching the ceiling. Legs sore in the best way. Data scrolling across his vision.
"Neural Adaptation: 74% complete.""Tactical Prediction Module: Functional.""Time-slow trigger: Integrated in box moments."
Dan Cleary poked his head up from the bunk across.
"You awake?"
"Yeah."
"You think we'll win tomorrow?"
Azim replied calmly.
"If we play as one unit—we won't just win. We'll control it."
Dan chuckled. "You and your Zen striker lines…"
A knock on the door.
Trent.
"You up?"
Azim grinned. "Was just thinking about tomorrow."
Trent leaned in the doorway. "Big game. Want to go over clips after breakfast?"
"Definitely."
Trent gave a thumbs-up. "Let's show 'em what we're about."
===
U18 Premier League Group ABolton Wanderers vs Liverpool FCMATCHDAY
The whistle blew.
The pitch was slick. Damp from last night's rain. A thin fog curled along the edges. Every stud, every breath echoed sharp.
Azim exhaled slowly.
"IS: Tactical Sync Initiated. Opponent: 4-4-2 flat. Press trigger = RB Turner. Bolton CBs slow on half-turn. Space opens at left channel on inside cut. Midfield spread: 12.3m gap."
He saw it all like infrared. The breath of the game. Where it would go before it even started.
--
2' minute
Chirivella (CDM) played a crisp one-two with Phillips (RCM). The rhythm was immediate—one-two-three—shaping Bolton's press into a slow, disjointed blob.
"IS: Dragged right mid. Maher late to cover. Triangle viable."
Azim dropped off Finney (RCB), forcing the line to stretch. Dhanda (CAM) filled the half-space.
Phillips played him.
One touch. Then another.
Dhanda spun and lifted a diagonal through-ball.
Azim was already gone.
Inside shoulder. Left channel. Eyes on the keeper.
"IS: Keeper stance open. Curl window: 1.2s. Shot viability: green."
He swept the ball with his right foot—low, fast, precise.
Far post.
GOAL – 1–0.
Silence, then the Liverpool bench erupted. Trent punched the air. Dhanda jogged over, grinning. "Bro, that timing…"
Azim only breathed. The fog steamed around him.
From the sideline, the Bolton coach screamed:"Number 18! TRACK NUMBER 18!"
--
7' minute
Bolton tried to push out, shifting their block high. Their fullbacks stepped aggressively, hoping to trap Canos (LW) and Wilson (RW).
"IS: Risk: 3-line stretch. CBs exposed in recovery. Intercept > Azim pivot > release runner."
Trent intercepted a loose square pass. Instant spark.
Azim checked toward the ball, pulled both CBs with him.
Trent zipped it into his feet.
He held it. Shielded. Waited.
"Wilson—arriving right channel—timing green."
Azim let the ball roll, then flicked behind with the outside of his boot.
Wilson burst through like lightning.
Keeper rushed.
Chip.
GOAL – 2–0.
The bench went wild. Wilson pointed at Azim mid-run.
On the sideline, Coach Lewtas just raised one finger. That's two. Stay on it.
Bolton's coach turned red. "Someone pick up EIGHTEEN! Man-mark him if you have to!"
Azim didn't respond.
But inside?
"IS: Opponent morale dip detected. CB Finney frustrated. Next phase: bait for foul or drag double mark."
He smiled.
--
11' minute
But Bolton weren't finished.
They kicked off hard, hitting a long switch to Iliev (LM), who pinned Trent (RB) and whipped a cross in early.
Azim tracked back instinctively.
"IS: Backline shape broken. Mark Samizadeh (ST). Threat: medium."
He sprinted, cutting off the passing lane, intercepting at the top of the box.
A clean touch. Out wide to Hart (LB).
Azim turned and sprinted again—transition mindset now.
Hart to Phillips. Phillips to Chirivella.
"IS: Momentum chain initiated. Canos wide, Dhanda inside. Drag CB again."
Azim ran straight at Finney again, forcing him deeper.
This time, he didn't ask for it.
Dhanda burst through and unleashed one from 20 yards.
Post.
Azim was there before anyone else.
Tapped in.
GOAL – 3–0.
Azim walked back calmly.
"IS: Bolton aggression rising. Foul chance imminent. Prep for contact. Foul trap viable = edge of box."
Azim cracked his knuckles.
Let them try.
--
14' minute
After kick-off, Bolton backed off. Tired. Confused. Their midfield line now sagged into a 4-1-3-2 hybrid without shape.
Brewitt (CB) passed square to Whelan (CB), who pointed left.
Hart (LB) overlapped.
Azim dropped between the lines—again.
"IS: False 9 window. Pull CBs. Dhanda + Wilson = cut-in threat."
He received. Touched. Passed wide.
Then spun.
Back across the pitch, diagonally through the edge of the 18-yard box.
Hart crossed.
Azim ghosted past the near post.
Flicked it backwards.
GOAL – Canos header.
4–0.Fourteen minutes. Four goals.
Lewtas finally smiled. "Now slow the tempo. Control them."
But Bolton's coach had other plans.
"TRIP HIM IF YOU HAVE TO. JUST STOP 18!"
--
15' minute
Bolton restarted with an edge.
Maher (CM) charged into a tackle, caught Phillips late.
"IS: Collision alert. High midfield press engaged. Switch mode: Safe build. Time-to-trap: 4.3s."
Azim read the pitch like a map of weakness. They were chasing.
Brewitt (CB) played short to Chirivella (CDM), who rotated the ball into space.
Azim dropped deep to receive.
Finney followed — too tight.
Azim felt it: shirt tug, studs close.
"IS: Foul trap triggered. Right foot pullback + shield. Contact: 1.6s."
Finney lunged.
Azim shifted weight left, dropped to the turf as the tackle scythed behind him.
Whistle.
Free kick.
Coach Lewtas called out, "Keep making them panic!"
Dhanda stepped over the free kick, 25 yards out. He gave a subtle nod toward Azim.
"IS: Backline shifting right. Zone break = Hart back-post. Curl angle: 33°."
Run up. Swing.
The ball dipped, curved far post.
Azim peeled off his marker, leapt—2.6 meters airborne.
He didn't head it.
He chested it.
Then volleyed it sideways.
Hart (LB), unmarked, smashed it low.
GOAL – 5–0.
The team mobbed Hart, but all eyes flicked back to Azim.
Sinclair from the bench whispered, "He even scores assists…"
--
21' minute
Liverpool pressed too high.
Bolton's RM Spooner managed a clever flick into space behind Hart.
Hall (ST) raced on. Azim spun around.
"IS: Danger—left channel breach. Hart recovery slow. Estimated xG = 0.24."
Azim sprinted back.
But Hall cut inside—fired low.
Fulton (GK) dove—
Too late.
GOAL – Bolton 1–5 Liverpool.
Bolton erupted in cheers. Their bench thumped the wall. Their coach pumped a fist.
"THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! THEY'RE HUMAN!"
Azim jogged back to centre circle, face calm. Inside, the fire rekindled.
"IS: Mental reset. Opponent morale up 12%. Response required in 6 minutes."
He nodded once.
Time to answer.
25' minute
Phillips (CM) passed short to Dhanda.
"IS: Bolton pressing late. Trotter pressing solo. Breakout pattern viable."
Azim dropped again. This time, he didn't turn.
He let the ball roll across his body—then chipped it first time.
Behind the line.
Wilson (RW) raced on.
Finney out of position again. The pass was like a razor slicing fabric.
Wilson cut inside. Shot saved.
Rebound popped high.
Azim, charging in, jumped between the CBs.
Chest control.
Backheel flick.
GOAL – 6–1.
He pointed at Wilson. "Keep going. It's coming."
On the sideline, Bolton's coach looked lost and red-faced with anger.
--
30' minute
This time, Azim led the trigger.
"IS: Cue press – trigger: short pass to Maher. Countdown: 2.1s. Signal: drop left shoulder."
Chirivella saw it. Dhanda joined.
They pressed.
Maher panicked—passed to Connell (LCB) under pressure.
Azim sprang forward, cut the angle.
Connell rushed his touch—
Too long.
Azim intercepted.
One touch forward.
"IS: Keeper frozen. Shot angle: near-post viable."
He smashed it.
GOAL – 7–1.
Coach Lewtas let out a sharp whistle.
"Now SLOW. Control tempo. You broke them."
Azim exhaled, adrenaline still flooding his lungs.
From behind him, Phillips muttered, "Bro, you scare people."
33' – Bolton's Frustration Peaks
Ball goes out. Throw-in Liverpool.
Hart picks it up. Azim jogs short.
Finney shoves him—clearly frustrated.
"IS: Opponent tilt at 72%. Foul pattern escalation. Emotional instability: high."
Azim just smiled.
Bolton's coach barked again, hoarse now:"IF HE MOVES—SOMEONE FOUL HIM EARLY!"
Azim received the throw. Rolled his foot over the ball.
Spun and whipped a pass to Trent (RB), cutting inside like a wing-back.
He sprinted down the touchline, cross incoming—
But the whistle blew. Half-time approaching.
===
"Seven-one. That's halftime."
Coach Barry Lewtas didn't yell. He didn't need to.
He stood at the center of the dressing room, one hand on a whiteboard, marker capped. The players huddled around, chests heaving, kits soaked in winter sweat.
"Keep it simple: we rotate, not because we relax—but because we manage."
He turned toward Azim.
"You're done."
The room paused.
Trent looked up. "Coach?"
Lewtas nodded. "He's cooked them. We don't need more goals—we need structure. Rest legs. Keep control."
Azim didn't flinch. Just inhaled slowly. "Understood."
"IS: Physical fatigue: 41%. Tactical control optimal. Substitution approved."
Azim sat at the far end of the bench. Still close enough to hear the team. But just far enough to see the pitch from above.
Coach shifted them to a 4-2-3-1. Sinclair as the 9, Dhanda in the hole, with Wilson and Canos wide. Defensive double-pivot to control the midfield.
As Lewtas talked structure, Azim stared out at the field.
Not to watch.
To scan.
"IS: Activate Tactical Relay Mode.""Objective: Create scouting-grade highlight reel. Time window: 00:00–45:00."
Data exploded inside his view like a HUD screen in a fighter jet.
Camera 1: Wide broadcast feed.Camera 2: Tactical angle from end zone.Camera 3: IS-integrated POV (Azim perspective, recalibrated).Overlay: Pass maps. Heat maps. Reaction time markers. Defender commitment scores. Spatial threat rendering.
He watched the match and himself at once. A player reborn as an architect.
On the screen, Azim at minute 6 cut behind the line. The curl. The shot. Net rippling.
Then the 15th-minute chip. The slide into Wilson's feet. The intercept and through ball to Canos.
Azim layered the clips.
"IS: Sync with telemetry. Add pulse readings. Mark decision delay (in ms). Highlight deceptive movements.
Each moment was enhanced—not faked, not filtered—understood. Explained.
He stared at the timeline.
The reel was complete.
"Final Export: Azim _LFC_U18_17Jan2025.mp4"Compression Mode: Secure. Final size: 20MB.
But he wasn't done.
He opened the browser window inside his interface. Created a new email. Simple, unmasked—but encrypted.
From: [email protected]: [email protected]: The Red's Future Striker
Message:
Guten Abend, Herr Klopp,
I won't take your time lightly.
My name is Abdul Azim. I'm a striker. Six goals. One half. Just a matchday — today.
I've attached the full first half. Why only first half? - because I was sub off. From kickoff to whistle. Watch it. Judge it.
But if something in it stirs you... then listen to this:
To the man who will soon walk the Anfield touchline—I'm waiting for you at Liverpool FC.
You'll see me again.Among the red.
—Abdul Azim
LFC U18's striker.
==
He attached the file. Hit send.
And leaned back on the bench.
Eyes closed. No pride. No fear.
Just silence.
===
Dortmund, Germany – Hohenbuschei-Allee
6:38 PM – Same Day
The sun was dying outside Hohenbuschei (Borrusia Dortmund Training Ground).
Jürgen Klopp entered his office, jacket damp from fog, scarf loose, shoulders hunched in the kind of fatigue only January football could deliver.
He dropped into his chair. Let out a growl.
"Six games in seventeen days…"
He blinked. Notifications glowed on his desktop.
One unread.
Subject: The Red's Future StrikerFrom: [email protected]
He raised an eyebrow.
Opened it.
Read once.
Twice.
His mouse hovered.
Click.
Video Begins
First clip.
6th minute. Through ball. Curl. Net.
Second. Press trap. Reverse flick. Tap in.
Third. Header assist. Fourth. Solo chip.
Fifth. Interception and no-look pass.
Each frame accompanied by pulses. Data overlays. Awareness arcs. Body position indicators.
Klopp sat forward.
Paused.
Rewound.
Watched again.
"Body orientation at 7:12... he's already calculated the third-man run. That's not instinct."
Fifteen minutes in, Klopp whispered.
"Who is this boy?"
He leaned back. Rubbed his face.
It was raw. Not polished. Not perfect.
But it was terrifyingly aware.
By the time the 45-minute mark hit, Klopp hadn't moved once.
Not blinked.
He clicked "Replay."
Watched again.
But now not just the boy—he watched the defenders. Their fear. Their loss. Their confusion when Azim moved like something they hadn't trained for.
He opened his drawer. Pulled out a notepad. Wrote one line:
"Liverpool. #18. January. U18."
And a second.
"Find out everything."
He didn't email back.
Didn't call.
Didn't text.
He just sat there, eyes burning with a mix of hunger and recognition.
Like a man who'd just been shown tomorrow's skyline, knowing he had to find the first stone today.