Striker of The Gods

The Echo of Old Wounds

Pre-Match – The Garden at 2:19 a.m.

Caos stood alone beneath a heavy Madrid sky, rain falling like needles. The fourth Copa del Rey match was hours away, and the Chaos Heart was restless. Your average person is likely not to be betrayed by a trusted general and be faced with a civil war. But all of us are going to face betrayals—big and small—in life. This was not enough for Caos. There had to be more than one year to acknowledge what we went through.

From friends, co-workers, spouses, even total strangers, and contractors and companies. To think you’re not is naive and delusional. As Marcus would write in Meditations, ”To expect a bad person not to harm others is like expecting fig trees not to secrete juice, babies not to cry, horses not to neigh, or the inevitable not to happen. What else could they do—with that sort of character?”

He closed his eyes and let the memories rise without resistance.

Mother’s last smile.

Leonor choosing the crown on the Bernabéu pitch.

Sofía’s hidden recordings.

Maat fled to Paris because he could no longer stand in my shadow.

The disgust had evolved. It was no longer cold judgment. It was a deep, quiet ache, the knowledge that no matter how many teams he erased, the real fractures remained inside.

Caos (whispering into the rain):

Tonight I do not play for records.

I play to remind myself why I still bleed on this pitch.

For the mother who believed.

For the love I lost to a throne.

For the version of me that refuses to stop running even when there is nowhere left to go.

He opened his eyes. The violet glow was steady, heavy with purpose.

X accounts:

Pessilover34: There’s less political strife when it regards Catalan independence than there was back then.

There’s still a big rivalry, but it’s more fueled by the Spanish media than the players themselves.

I’ve watched a lot of interviews where Barça players are asked how all these controversies affect them, and I’ve heard most of them answer that they try to stay away from this kind of media that fuels hate.

The last ”generation” of players (at least Barcelona) has focused much more on mental health & wellness, & Bojan has actually been a huge part of this. He suffered a lot, and his football talent in many ways was ”wasted” because of added pressure, anxiety & mental health, so I think the club has valued this a lot. You could even see the way they allowed Araujo a mental health break when he had his severe breakdown.

I don’t know enough about Real Madrid to give my opinion on them, but I hope they are doing something similar.

Graham43: Because Real Madrid and Barcelona used to be super teams with Messi and Ronaldo. 

Now they are both forgotten, and their teams are shadows of their former selves.

Caosgang2: Now, Caos has made his team the best in history.

Copa del Rey Semi-Final, First Leg

Real Madrid vs FC Barcelona

The Santiago Bernabéu was a pressure cooker of hatred and history. El Clásico in the Copa del Rey. The air was thick with tension. Barcelona arrived wounded but dangerous—under new management, with Lamine Yamal, Pedri, and a reborn Maat (now at PSG but still carrying the scars) watching from afar, the Blaugrana had built a counter-attacking machine designed to exploit any emotional crack.

Social media was a warzone before kick-off.

Twitter / X:

“Clásico in Copa. Caos vs. the team that still believes they can stop him.” (2.1M tweets)

“Maat is watching from Paris. This one feels personal.” — @Marca

“If anyone can make Caos feel something again, it’s Barcelona.” — @ESPNFC

Pre-Match Player Comments:

Lamine Yamal (Barcelona):

“We know what he is. But this is our house too. We will not bow. We will fight like men.”

Pedri (Barcelona):

“Caos has destroyed everyone this season. But Clásicos are different. History matters here.”

Xabi Alonso (pre-match):

“Tonight is not just about football. It’s about pride, pain, and unfinished stories.”

The whistle blew.

The match was war from the first second.

Barcelona pressed with fire and intelligence. They doubled up on Caos, used tactical fouls, and tried to provoke him emotionally. For twenty-eight minutes they made it ugly, chaotic, and genuinely tense. Yamal nearly scored on a brilliant solo run.

Then Caos answered with something deeper than destruction.

He received the ball in his own half, looked toward the royal box (still empty), and accelerated to 331 mph. A Mother’s Eternal Requiem — the evolved vortex dedicated to her memory — left four Barcelona players on the ground. From 59 meters, he launched a 717 km/h strike that tore through the rain and the net like a final goodbye.

1–0.

He pressed one finger to the sky and held it there longer than usual.

Barcelona fought back. In the 41st minute, Yamal scored a stunning goal after a team move. 1–1.

The Bernabéu roared with tension.

In the second half, Caos became something sacred and terrifying.

He scored in the 52nd minute with a powerful header, dedicating it silently to his mother. 2–1.

Then, in the 68th minute, with the rain pouring harder, he performed The Leonor Fracture is a 720° spinning aerial chilena from 42 feet while internally confronting the memory of her choice. The ball left a violet scar across the sky before exploding into the net.

3–1.

Barcelona kept fighting. They pulled one back in the 79th minute through Pedri. 3–2.

But Caos had the final word.

In the 89th minute, he received the ball at the halfway line, looked up at the empty royal box, and performed The Unclaimed Requiem a no-look 1080° spinning volley from 47 meters that seemed to carry every unresolved pain before slamming into the top corner.

Final score: 4–2 (first leg)

Caos stood alone at the center circle after the whistle, one finger raised to the sky for his mother, the other fist pressed to his chest for the father who never claimed him.

The Bernabéu chanted his name like a prayer.

Post-Match Reactions:

Lamine Yamal:

We fought like hell. But he… he plays like someone who has already lost everything and still refuses to lose on the pitch. Respect.

Social Media:

”Caos” just turned a Clásico into therapy. 4-2 and he still looked like he was fighting ghosts.” — @TheAthletic

“This man scores with pain in his eyes. The most human monster in football.” — @ESPNFC

In the tunnel, Xabi Alonso embraced him.

Xabi Alonso:

You played with your heart tonight. Not just your talent. It showed.

The three maids waited for him at home, eyes full of quiet understanding.

Caos looked toward the night sky, violet eyes heavy but clear.

Caos:

Every goal tonight was for the ones who aren’t here.

And for the ones I still carry inside me.

The Copa del Rey continued.

But for Caos, each match was becoming less about victory and more about survival of the soul.

To be continued…