God Of football

Izan rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. "Goodnight, Hori."

She grinned before heading to her room, leaving Izan alone in the dimly lit living room.

He sat there for a while before finally moving to his bed, phone in hand.

Liverpool.

It was the logical choice. The biggest challenge. The one that would solidify his name in football history if he succeeded.

Arsenal had stormed in at the last moment, but deep down, his mind was already made up.

He exhaled, thumb hovering over Miranda's contact, ready to call her.

But then—

A low hum filled the room.

It wasn't from his phone. It wasn't from the street outside.

The air in front of him trembled.

A ripple, like disturbed water. Then—it twisted.

Bending in on itself, folding, until something materialized.

Izan's breath caught. His grip on the phone tightened.

A glowing interface now hovered before him, its light casting eerie shadows across the room.

Then—something appeared on the display.

His heartbeat hammered in his chest. His gaze locked onto the screen, scanning the text that had just surfaced.

And in that instant, everything had changed.

...…

Izan stared at the glowing interface, his breath slowing as the words materialized before him.

[NEW CHALLENGE UNLOCKED: BRING BACK THE GLORY]

Condition: Join Arsenal

Objective: Lead Arsenal to their first Premier League title since 2004 and Champions League triumph within 3 seasons.

His eyebrows lifted slightly. He blinked, but the words didn't disappear.

"What the hell…" he muttered under his breath, shifting forward.

He'd seen the system do strange things before, but this? It was like it was trying to push him toward a decision.

Not just offering guidance, but actively influencing his next move.

His gaze dropped lower as more text unfolded.

Completion Rewards:

Trait: The Invincible Right – A special trait that grants a heightened sense of touch in the opponent's 18-yard box.

Offers an 80% chance of scoring from first-time shots when shooting with the right foot in the 18-yard box.

Skill Boost: Clutch Mastery – Enhanced composure and decision-making in crucial moments, allowing for game-changing plays when it matters most.

Exclusive Perk: Tactical Synchronization – Improved adaptability in any tactical system, accelerating chemistry with teammates and coaches.

Izan scoffed lightly, shaking his head. "So, the system wants me at Arsenal?"

It was almost absurd. Of all the options, why Arsenal? He hadn't even taken them seriously until today.

PSG and Liverpool were the clear frontrunners, the offers he and Miranda had been weighing all night.

Arsenal had stormed in at the last minute with a huge bid, but he hadn't truly considered them yet.

And yet, here was the system, practically dangling an irresistible challenge in front of him.

He knew what this meant. He could decline. Nothing was forcing him to accept.

But if he walked away from it, the rewards would vanish. And they weren't minor incentives—they were game-changing.

The Invincible Right?

Tactical Synchronization?

Clutch Mastery?

Those weren't just perks. They were transformations. Tools that could push him beyond even his own expectations.

Izan exhaled, running a hand down his face.

The safe choice was still Liverpool. The competitive, proven environment. The biggest challenge. But now?

Now, Arsenal was the intriguing one.

His mind spun. Could he actually see himself there? The face of their rebuild, the leader of a new era?

The one to bring Arsenal back to the top after two decades?

It was an insane thought.

But the system didn't deal in dreams—it dealt in realities.

And if it believed this was possible, that meant…

It was.

His heart pounded slightly faster. Three seasons to achieve both. The league and the Champions League.

No guarantees. No shortcuts. Just a promise—that if he succeeded, he'd leave a legacy like no other.

Izan leaned back, staring at the ceiling, the glow of the interface still flickering in his peripheral vision.

"…Shit."

He had a decision to make.

...

Izan tossed and turned in bed, but sleep never came. His mind was too restless.

Every time he closed his eyes, the system's challenge reappeared in his thoughts, flashing the words "Bring Back the Glory" like a taunt.

He wasn't sure if he was overthinking it, but it felt like the system had never been so direct in nudging him toward a specific path.

And the worst part? It worked.

Even as the hours dragged on, even as the early morning light seeped through his window, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

When his alarm finally went off, Izan sighed and sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. He had bigger things to deal with today.

School.

With everything going on—the Euros, the transfer saga, the constant speculation—it was easy to forget he still had to complete his education.

His days as a student were numbered, but they weren't over yet. And today, for the first time in a long while, he had to sit in class and pretend like his entire career wasn't on the verge of a massive change.

But that was easier said than done.

From the moment he arrived, it was clear that he wasn't going to have an easy day.

His classmates were more animated than usual, whispering among themselves before eventually approaching him.

"So, it's really happening?" one of them asked as they walked into the classroom.

Izan raised an eyebrow. "What is?"

The guy scoffed. "Come on, man. Your transfer. Everyone's talking about it."

"Yeah," another chimed in. "You're trending everywhere right now. So? Where are you going?"

Izan smirked slightly, shaking his head. "Dunno. You tell me."

A few of them groaned at his non-answer, while others laughed. They knew he wasn't going to just spill it, but the curiosity was eating them alive.

"Enough questioning. Leave the kid alone" a voice said from behind. Izan turned towards the source of the voice and found their class teacher staring at him.

Izan nodded in appreciation before looking back outside.

...…..

Throughout the day, it didn't stop. Whether it was in the hallways, during lunch, or even from some of his teachers, the same questions followed him.

Was he really leaving? Which club was it? Was it PSG? Liverpool? Arsenal?

At one point, someone even shoved their phone in his face, showing Fabrizio Romano's latest post about Arsenal's offer being the highest on the table.

"Look at this, bro. You really considering Arsenal?"

Izan just shook his head again, feigning indifference. "I'm considering everything."

But in reality, his mind was nowhere else.

Even as he sat through lectures, even as he tried to focus, his thoughts never left the decision ahead of him.

He could feel the weight of it pressing down, the realization that soon—very soon—he'd have to choose.

By the time the day ended and he headed to the training ground, he was exhausted.

But as soon as he stepped into the familiar environment, something shifted.

The moment his teammates saw him, there was no awkwardness, no tension.

They had all seen the news. They had all read the reports. They all knew what was coming.

And yet—

Nothing changed.

They didn't ask him about all the noise. They didn't press him for any information.

Instead, they talked to him like he wasn't going anywhere.

Pietro was the first to throw an arm around his shoulder. "Took you long enough to come back. What, forgot where the training ground was?"

Izan smirked. "Had to remind myself."

Sosa clapped him on the back. "You've been away too long, man. We might've forgotten how you play."

"Doubt that."

Mark leaned in with a grin. "Don't worry, bro. I'll go easy on you. Don't want to embarrass you on your first day back."

Izan chuckled. "Big words. You sure you can back them up?"

The team shared a few laughs, the banter flowing effortlessly. It was like nothing had changed, even though they all knew it had.

Even though they all knew he was as good as gone.

But no one acknowledged it.

No one treated him like he was already halfway out the door.

They trained, they joked, they played like they always had—like he was still one of them.

And for the first time that day, Izan felt like he could breathe.

...…..

The training session wrapped up with the usual cooldown, scattered conversations, and the lingering warmth of exertion under the setting sun.

Izan stayed a little longer on the pitch, stretching his legs, and rolling his shoulders.

No one had said it outright, but he could feel it in the way they looked at him—the silent understanding that these moments were numbered.

Sosa jogged past, lightly tapping his shoulder. "See you tomorrow, yeah?"

Izan nodded. "Yeah."

He wasn't sure if it was true.

By the time he got home, the exhaustion had settled deep in his bones. The day had drained him—not physically, but mentally. Too many questions, and too much speculation.

And now, it was time.

Miranda was already waiting when he walked in.

She sat at the small dining table, laptop open, phone beside her, an iced coffee in hand. She looked up as he entered, her sharp eyes scanning him like she already knew what was coming.

"Long day?" she asked, leaning back.

Izan exhaled as he pulled out a chair and sat across from her. "You could say that."

Miranda closed her laptop. "You've made a decision." It wasn't a question.

He met her gaze.

A beat of silence passed.

"I choose....

A/n: Okay. So it was coming and now it's here. Have fun

Also don't hate me too much for the cliffhangers. I just can't help it. This chapter is proudly sponsored by Sam Kupers