[Sofia: "Also… Leon? I think you should come home. Soon. Like... right now. I just took a test. And... well... it looks like our little 'Apex FC' is about to get a new, very, very small mascot."]
Leon's brain, a supercomputer of tactical analysis and footballing genius, did the only thing it could: it crashed. Blue screen of death.
Mascot? he thought, his mind latching onto the one word it could process. She wants... a dog? A puppy? That's what this is? She wants us to get a team dog? That's a great idea, actually. Good for morale. A little 'tactical good boy' to chase squirrels during training.
He was in the middle of a very serious, very focused mental calculation about the potential "dribbling" stats of a Golden Retriever when the other part of the message finally, belatedly, slammed into his consciousness. A test. A... oh.
