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Chapter 73 - CHAPTER 73 — "WHEN THE WORLD FINALLY LOOKS BACK"

CHAPTER 73 — "WHEN THE WORLD FINALLY LOOKS BACK"

Date: Monday, 25 September 2023

Location: Barcelona

Árman Azevedo — Age: 13 years, 6 months

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Morning After — Silence Before the Storm

The morning after the Cádiz match was… quiet.

Too quiet.

Árman woke up in his grandparents' apartment just as the sun crept through the curtains. For a moment, he lay there, staring at the ceiling, replaying fragments of the match—not the goals, not the cheers, but the spaces, the timing, the moments where the game slowed down exactly as he wanted.

No adrenaline rush. No shaking hands.

Just calm.

That alone told him something important.

I'm not overwhelmed.

In the kitchen, his grandmother was already awake, pretending to read the newspaper while very obviously watching him over the edge of it.

"You slept well?" she asked.

"Yes," Árman replied simply.

She nodded, then turned the paper toward him.

The entire front page.

HIS FACE.

White hair. Calm eyes. Number 10.

A headline in bold Catalan:

> "UN NEN QUE JUGA COM UN HOME"

A child who plays like a man.

Árman glanced at it, then calmly poured himself juice.

His grandfather exhaled slowly.

"You know," the old man said, "this house has seen many footballers. None like this."

Árman didn't answer right away.

"I just played," he said finally.

That humility—that quiet certainty—was what unsettled them the most.

---

The Club — A Shift in Atmosphere

At the Ciutat Esportiva Joan Gamper, things were different now.

Not louder. More careful.

Coaches, analysts, staff—everyone moved with the same routines as always, but their eyes followed him just a fraction longer.

This wasn't curiosity anymore.

It was recalibration.

Xavi stood with his assistants, reviewing training footage from the previous night.

"Look here," he said, pausing the video.

"Watch how he doesn't rush the second goal."

One assistant nodded slowly.

"He already understands when the game belongs to him."

Another added, quieter:

"And when it doesn't need to."

That was the part that scared them.

---

Training — Normality as a Weapon

Training resumed as usual.

Rondos. Positional drills. Small-sided games.

Árman didn't dominate loudly.

He dominated quietly.

One touch here. A disguised pass there. A half-turn that opened the pitch.

Senior players tested him more now.

Not maliciously. Respectfully.

A harder shoulder. A tighter press.

Árman absorbed it all without complaint.

Lewandowski pulled him aside after a drill.

"You don't play like you're trying to prove something," he said.

Árman shrugged.

"I don't need to."

Lewandowski laughed softly.

"That's dangerous."

---

Media Pressure — From Curiosity to Obsession

Outside the gates, the media presence tripled.

Spanish outlets. European journalists. Even cameras from South America.

Questions flew nonstop:

"Is he the future of Barça?"

"Is this too much, too early?"

"Can a 13-year-old handle this pressure?"

Xavi shut it down immediately.

"He's protected. He trains. He plays. That's it."

Inside, however, the club was already adjusting protocols.

Rest cycles. Media exposure limits. Psychological monitoring.

Not because Árman seemed fragile.

Because history had taught them that talent like this breaks systems.

---

La Liga Reacts — Records Don't Go Unnoticed

By midweek, La Liga officially confirmed the records:

Youngest starter in league history

Youngest goal scorer

Youngest player with a goal + assist in a single match

Comparisons flooded in.

Messi. Yamal. Bojan. Ansu.

Árman ignored them all.

He watched game footage instead.

---

The Dressing Room — Acceptance

Before the next match briefing, something subtle happened.

The seat next to Pedri—once symbolic—was left open.

Not intentionally.

But no one else sat there.

Árman did.

No announcement. No declaration.

Just… belonging.

Pedri leaned over.

"You ready for the next one?"

Árman nodded.

"Same as always."

---

Night — Reflection Without Doubt

That night, back in his room, Árman sat on the edge of the bed.

He didn't enter his dimension. He didn't speak to the system.

He didn't need to.

Instead, he thought about Cádiz.

About how the defenders backed off. About how the space opened before they realized it.

He wasn't chasing domination.

Domination was arriving on its own.

He lay back, hands behind his head.

This is just the start.

Outside, Barcelona buzzed with anticipation.

Inside, the monster remained calm.

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