Alex walked into the Arsenal training ground. His body was sore. His head was still spinning.

He was not just "The Professor" anymore. He was "England Under 21s The Professor". He had beaten the German machine. He was, for a day, a national hero.

But today was Monday. He was back at his club. And he was just... Alex.

He limped a little. His ankle was still bruised from the Germany game. He walked into the first team locker room at seven forty nine in the morning. "Bastian early".

The room was quiet. Bastian was there, of course. He was drinking coffee and reading a German newspaper. He looked up.

"Professor," he grunted. "You are back. You were not a duck. I saw the game. The 'double trap'. It was smart. Good."

"Thanks, Bastian," Alex said, feeling a huge wave of pride.

Harry, the captain, walked in, whistling. "Ah, the international hero returns! We saw you, Alex. You made that Chelsea kid, James, look very silly. Again. He is going to hate you."

"I just did my job," Alex said, going to his locker.

"A very good job," a voice said.

Alex turned.

Antoine was there. He was not injured. He was not in a medical boot. He was in his full, perfect, number ten training kit. He was smiling.

"Welcome home, Professor," Antoine said. "You were magnificent. You made your country proud."

"Thank" you, Antoine," Alex said. He felt... happy. His hero was praising him.

"But," Antoine said, his smile becoming a sharp, competitive grin. "You are home now. And I am one hundred percent fit. The doctor said I am perfect. The 'fight for the shirt'... it is real now, my friend."

Alexs heart skipped a beat. The fun was over. The real work was back.

The door burst open. Mark ran in. He was in his U21 kit. He was already sweating.

"I AM NOT LATE!" he panted. "I was in the gym. With Chloe. I am working on my core. I am... stable!"

Bastian just groaned. "You are loud."

Mark saw Alex. "So? You beat some German kids. Big deal. I have been here. Training with Bastian. He has been teaching me how to be... a rock."

Bastian looked up from his paper. "I have taught you nothing. You just... ran at me. And you fell over."

"I am learning!" Mark insisted.

The manager, Steve, walked in. The room went silent.

"Good," Steve said. "Everyone is here. Professor. Welcome back. You are a star. Good job. Forget it. It is gone."

Steve looked at Antoine. "Magician. You are fit. This is good. It gives me a problem. I have two number tens. I have two brains. I hate problems."

Alexs stomach tightened. This was it. The choice.

"So," Steve said. "We will find the answer. Training pitch. Ten versus ten. Bibs versus No Bibs. Alex. You are the pivot for the Bibs. Antoine. You are the pivot for the No Bibs. You are playing against each other. I want to see who is better. I want to see who wants the shirt. Go."

The training pitch was electric.

This was the game. The Professor versus The Magician.

Alexs team was good. He had Harry. He had the fast winger.

Antoines team was also good. He had Bastian. He had the other main striker.

And Mark... Mark was on Alexs team.

"Okay, Professor," Mark hissed, as they put on their bibs. "This is it. I am ready. I am stable. I am fast. You and me. The Package. We are going to destroy the Magician."

"We are not destroying him, Mark," Alex said, his analyst brain working. "We are just... playing. Be smart. Do not just run."

"I am smart!" Mark snapped.

The whistle blew.

The first half of the drill was... magic.

But it was all Antoines magic.

Antoine was just... better. He was stronger. He was faster. He had been a superstar for ten years. Alex was a kid who had been playing for a few months.

Antoine did not even look like he was trying.

He would get the ball. Alex would run to close him down.

Antoine would just... flick it. A no look pass.

He would spin. He would turn. He was a ghost.

His team scored. One zero.

Bastian passed him the ball. Alex ran, trying to be the "annoying shadow".

Antoine just... stopped the ball. He let Alex run past. He was gone.

His team scored again. Two zero.

Antoine just winked at Alex. "You are good, Professor. But... I am Antoine."

Alex was frustrated. He was being humiliated. His brain was not working.

He was trying to play like Antoine. He was trying to be "magic".

He got the ball. He tried a fast turn.

He was stable. But he was not Antoine.

Bastian just... took the ball. He did not even tackle. He just stuck out a giant leg.

"You are not him, Professor," Bastian grunted. "Be you."

Be me.

Alex took a deep breath. What was he?

He was not magic. He was not speed.

He was the brain. He was the analyst.

The second half started. Alex changed his plan.

He got the ball. He did not try to turn. He did not try to be magic.

He just... passed it. One touch. To Harry.

He got it back. He passed it. To his winger.

He was the boring pivot. He was the Shield.

He was making his team play.

"This is boring!" Mark complained. He was not getting the ball.

"Be patient, Speed," Alex called out.

Alex was controlling the game. His team was keeping the ball.

Antoines team was getting frustrated. They could not get theF ball.

Antoine, the magician, got bored. He left his position. He ran at Alex. He was coming to win the ball.

Alex saw him coming.

This was it. The trap.

Antoine had left his space.

Alex did not pass to his winger.

He looked at Mark. "FAKE FAKE! NOW!"

Mark understood. He ran. He faked right. He faked left. He exploded.

The defender was not Bastian. It was a younger player. He was lost.

Alex hit the pass. The Hurricane pass.

Sixty yards. Perfect.

Mark was on it. He scored.

Two one.

"YES!" Mark roared.

Antoine just stopped. He looked at Alex. He was not angry. He was... impressed. Alex had used his aggression against him.

The game restarted. It was two one. One minute left.

Alexs team had the ball.

Alex and Antoine were in the middle. They were face to face.

The ball came to Alex.

Antoine lunged. He was fast. He was perfect.

Alex did not have time. He could not pass. He could not turn.

He just... was stable. He was a rock.

He shielded the ball.

Antoine, the superstar, was... stuck. He could not get the ball. Alex was too solid. He was a perfect, boring, stable shield.

The whistle blew. The drill was over.

Alex was breathing so hard. He had not won. But he had not lost.

He had held his own.

Steve, the manager, walked onto the pitch. He was not smiling.

"Okay," he said. "I have seen enough."

He looked at Antoine. "Magician. You are magic. You are a superstar. You win games. You are beautiful to watch."

He looked at Alex. "Professor. You are a brain. You are a rock. You... you control games. You are boring. But you are... perfect."

He looked at both of them.

"This is a problem," Steve said. "I cannot choose. You are both too good."

Alexs heart was pounding. Antoine was just watching.

"So," Steve said. "I will not."

He looked at his tactics board.

"Saturday. We play Chelsea. At home. A big game. James will be angry. He will want to break you, Alex."

"We are not playing with one brain. We are playing with two."

He looked at his board. "A new system. A 4 4 2. A diamond."

He pointed to the bottom of the board. "Professor. You are the six. The anchor. The shield. You will sit. You will control. You will win the ball."

He pointed to the other midfielders.

Then he pointed to the top of the diamond.

"Magician. You are the ten. The tip. The sword. You are free. You will not defend. You will only... create."

Alex looked at Antoine. Antoine looked at Alex.

The Shield and the Sword. Together.

"This," Antoine whispered, a huge smile on his face, "is going to be fun."

"But... coach," Mark said. He was pale. "A diamond? Two midfielders? Where... where do I go?"

Steve looked at Mark.

"A diamond needs... two strikers," Steve said.

He pointed. "Harry... you are one. And... Speed. You are the other."

Mark just... froze. His mouth opened. No sound came out.

"Me?" he whispered. "Starting? With... with Harry? With the 'Package'?"

"Yes," Steve said. "The 'Hurricane' is not a secret weapon anymore. It is... the starting plan. The 'Diamond Hurricane'."

"Brains. Magic. Speed. And a very angry Captain. This... this is the new Arsenal. Go. Learn it."

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