The rain fell in heavy sheets, the kind that blurred headlights and turned city streets into mirrors of chaos.
David Ajayi adjusted his backpack on his shoulders, hurrying across the road. He had just finished a late-night shift at the small electronics shop where he worked. His dream had always been football, but like many dreams, it had been swallowed by the reality of bills, expectations, and the weight of being the "responsible son."
A car horn blared.
David froze.
Headlights surged toward him—too close, too fast. The driver tried to swerve, tires screeching against the slick asphalt. David's body jolted as the impact threw him into the air like a rag doll.
Everything slowed.
The world dimmed around the edges, like a curtain being drawn shut. He felt the taste of iron in his mouth, the sting of cold rain against his skin, the fading echo of people shouting.
Then—silence.
No pain. No street. Just a vast, endless white.
"...So this is how it ends?" David muttered, surprised his voice even existed here.
A figure appeared before him, tall and robed in shimmering gold. His face was neither young nor old, neither man nor woman. His eyes carried galaxies in them, yet they felt strangely gentle.
"Not the end," the being said. "For you, it is the beginning."
David blinked. "I… died?"
"Yes," the figure said simply. "Your time in that world has ended. But your soul is strong, and I will grant you another chance—one life, reborn anew. You may make three wishes."
David's heart raced. Three wishes? His mind instantly raced to riches, fame, or eternal life. But another thought burned brighter—his first love, the game that once kept him awake at night, ball at his feet until dawn.
"I want to be a footballer," he said, almost instinctively. "But… not the greatest dribbler or playmaker. I just want the talent of a normal, hardworking player."
The god tilted his head. "Ordinary? That is your first wish?"
"Yes. But for my second…" David's voice hardened, "I want my shot power to be 99—just under perfection—but with 100 accuracy. Every strike, exactly where I intend."
The god's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Unerring precision and devastating force. Interesting."
"And my third wish," David continued, "is a body free from injuries. Let me play the game I love, every day, without fear of breaking down."
The being fell silent, as if weighing the purity of his requests. Finally, a smile curved across his lips.
"Your wishes are granted. You shall be reborn not as a stranger in this world, but in a place where the game thrives. La Masia—the cradle of Barcelona, alongside the boy they call Messi. Yet fate will twist. Before they uncover your true gift, you will be sold. That will be your path."
A light enveloped David.
His last thought before being pulled into the whirlpool of rebirth was simple, fiery, unshakable:
This time… I'll become unforgettable.