Striker of The Gods

Time: Saturday,  3rd of may 2034 :13:30 CET

Location: Estadio Coliseum, Getafe

The Coliseum was full.

Blue scarves filled the stands. Getafe supporters had been singing since the warm-ups began, and every time Caos appeared on the giant screen, the reaction became louder.

Getafe had spent the week preparing for him.

They knew they couldn’t match Real Madrid’s attacking quality.

They also knew that trying to chase Caos around the pitch would create exactly the spaces he wanted.

So they decided to do something simpler.

Stay compact.

Make him uncomfortable.

Force him away from the center.

And whenever Real Madrid lost possession, attack immediately.

It wasn’t glamorous.

It wasn’t supposed to be.

It was football designed to survive.

CAOS HIJO DE PUTA.

NOS VAS A MARCAR UN GOL

TE VAN A MATAR CAOS.

ESTE TIO QUE AQUI PUES.

The match had already become one of the most discussed games of the weekend.

PREMATCH 

#GetafeVsCaos — 8.6 million posts in 36 hours

@Marca:

“Getafe have spent the week studying how Caos receives the ball between the lines. Their objective is simple: deny him the center of the pitch.”

@AS:

“Caos has produced another extraordinary run of performances. Getafe will need discipline more than bravery tonight.”

@LaLiga:

“The Coliseum is sold out. Getafe believe their compact defensive structure can force Real Madrid into a different kind of match.”

A training video of Caos had also gone viral.

He was sprinting through one of the training fields at impossible speed before stopping almost instantly.

The next clip showed him striking a ball through three reinforced targets.

The final clip came from one of Erebus’s simulations.

Caos was running through a prehistoric environment while enormous creatures chased him.

The caption underneath read:

“Getafe prepared a defensive plan. Caos prepared for the Jurassic.”

THE TUNNEL

Caos stood beside Mbappé while the players waited.

Mbappé looked toward the Getafe players.

“They’re not going to chase you.”

Caos nodded.

“I noticed.”

“They’re going to wait.”

“Exactly.”

Mbappé looked at him.

“So what are you going to do?”

“Make them move.”

Mbappé smiled.

“That’s more like you.”

Xabi Alonso walked toward them.

“Don’t force it.”

Caos looked at him.

“I won’t.”

“Getafe want you frustrated.”

“I know.”

“They’ll give you the wings and protect the middle.”

Caos nodded.

“Then we’ll use the wings.”

Xabi smiled.

“Good.”

He walked away.

Mbappé looked at Caos.

“See? He trusts you.”

Caos smiled.

“He shouldn’t.”

Mbappé laughed.

“Too late now.”

The Private Box

Zeraphina, Keyla and Michaela were watching from the private section.

Zeraphina’s hand rested against her growing belly.

Keyla looked down toward the pitch.

“They’re sitting very deep.”

Michaela nodded.

“They don’t want to give him space.”

Zeraphina watched Caos during the warm-up.

“He’ll figure it out.”

Keyla glanced at her.

“You sound very calm.”

“I’ve seen him play.”

Keyla smiled.

“Fair.”

THE MATCH,

The whistle blew.

Getafe immediately dropped into a compact shape.

Their two forwards stayed high enough to threaten the Real Madrid center-backs, while the midfield stayed narrow.

Whenever Caos moved toward the center, one midfielder stepped toward him.

Not three.

Not four.

Just one.

The second defender stayed in position.

Getafe weren’t interested in surrounding Caos.

They wanted to make sure there was nowhere useful for him to go.

The La Liga commentator explained it as Real Madrid began circulating the ball.“Getafe are being very disciplined here. They aren’t chasing Caos. They’re protecting the central areas and trying to force him toward the outside. It’s a much more conservative approach than we’ve seen from some of Real Madrid’s recent opponents.”

The first ten minutes were surprisingly even.

Real Madrid dominated possession.

Getafe defended.

Caos moved.

They followed.

He moved again.

They followed again.

But they didn’t break their shape.

In the eighteenth minute, Caos received the ball just outside the box.

The midfielder stepped toward him.

Caos tried to turn.

The second defender closed the angle.

He passed backward.

The Coliseum cheered.

The crowd knew exactly what had happened.

For once, Getafe had forced him away from goal.

Caos smiled.

He wasn’t frustrated.

He was studying them.

TWENTIETH MINUTE

Caos moved toward the left wing.

The Getafe midfielder followed.

Caos continued toward the corner.

The fullback stepped across.

That was what Caos wanted.

He stopped.

Turned.

And played the ball back inside.

Mbappé was already running through the space Getafe had abandoned.

The pass reached him.

Mbappé crossed.

Caos had already started moving.

He entered the box.

The goalkeeper came forward.

Caos jumped.

His body twisted.

A simple finish.

1–0 Real Madrid.

The La Liga commentator shouted:

“There it is! Getafe kept the center closed, so Caos moved them himself. He dragged two defenders wide and then attacked the space they left behind. That is excellent movement.”

Caos pointed toward Mbappé.

Mbappé pointed back.

No dramatic celebration.

Just a quick acknowledgment.

The match continued.

GOGOGOGO GETAFE!

Getafe didn’t collapse.

They pushed higher.

A long ball went over the Real Madrid midfield.

Their striker reached it.

A cross came into the box.

Real Madrid cleared.

Getafe recovered.

Another attack.

Then another.

The crowd became louder.

In the thirty-third minute, Getafe finally scored.

A low cross found the striker near the penalty spot.

One touch.

Shot.

1–1.

The Coliseum erupted.

Caos stood near the halfway line.

Mbappé walked over.

“Now they’re going to open up.”

Caos nodded.

“They have to.”

Mbappé smiled.

“Your favorite.”

“Very.”

THIRYNINTH MINUTE.

Real Madrid recovered possession.

Caos received the ball near the halfway line.

This time there was space.

He looked forward.

One defender.

Then another.

He accelerated.

The first player couldn’t stay with him.

The second tried to angle him toward the sideline.

Caos shifted direction.

The Triassic Vortex activated.

His speed climbed.

The stadium watched him disappear down the field.

He reached the ball approximately 86 meters from goal.

He planted his foot.

The violet energy around his body tightened.

Then he struck.

350,000 Newtons.

The ball screamed toward the goal at approximately 859 km/h.

The goalkeeper reacted.

Too late.

2–1 Real Madrid.

The La Liga commentator shouted:

“CAOS! From distance again! Getafe managed him for almost forty minutes, but once the space appeared, there was no recovering!”

Caos turned toward the stands.

Then toward the sky.

He raised one finger.

His mother.

Then he returned to the center circle.

THE MYTH CHANGES 

Getafe could no longer remain as deep.

They needed another goal.

That changed everything.

The midfield moved forward.

The defensive line followed.

Caos noticed immediately.

His next goal came from a sprint.

Then another from outside the box.

Then one after a Herrera Snap.

Then another after Plateo Crush disrupted the defensive line.

Getafe continued fighting.

But now every attacking move they made created another opportunity for Real Madrid.

By halftime:

Caos had scored 17 goals.

The La Liga commentator summarized the half:

“Getafe’s plan worked for long periods. They stayed compact, denied the center and even scored an equalizer. But once they had to push forward, the spaces appeared, and Real Madrid have punished every one of them.”

SECOND TIME.

Getafe came out aggressively.

They weren’t going to surrender the game.

Their supporters continued singing.

The second half became faster.

Caos scored again.

22–1.

Getafe answered.

22–2.

The Coliseum exploded.

The goal gave the home supporters something to celebrate.

Caos walked back toward the halfway line.

He looked at the scoreboard.

Then smiled.

Keyla watched from the private box.

“He’s going to do something ridiculous now.”

Zeraphina laughed.

“You know him too well.”

A cross came into the box.

It was too high.

Caos jumped.

He rose above the defenders.

Then twisted backward.

For a moment his body was completely horizontal.

His heel struck the ball.

A 72-foot chilena.

The ball flew over the goalkeeper.

Into the top corner.

23–2.

The La Liga commentator shouted:“WHAT A FINISH! CAOS WITH THE CHILENA! ESPECTACULAR! UN SIGLO PARA ESTO.Seventy-two feet in the air! That is one of the most outrageous goals we’ve seen this season!”

Caos landed.

He looked toward the private box.

Zeraphina was laughing.

Keyla was shaking her head.

Michaela was applauding.

Caos smiled.

Then he turned back toward the game.

The final twenty minutes became relentless.

Caos scored again.

Then again.

Real Madrid scored through other players.

Caos assisted several of them.

His final goal came in the closing minutes.

He received the ball outside the box.

One touch.

Second touch.

Strike.

The ball flew into the upper corner.

31–2.

The final whistle came shortly afterward.

Getafe 2–31 Real Madrid

Caos:

25 goals6 assists49th?There was a brief confusion in the stadium announcement.

The official statistics staff corrected it moments later.

Because of the fictional match chronology, this was actually Caos’s 51st consecutive Man of the Match award in all competitions.

The stadium announcer confirmed it.

“Man of the Match: Caos. His fifty-first consecutive award.”

Caos stood near the center circle.

The crowd was still loud.

He looked upward.

One finger toward the sky.

His mother.

Then his fist pressed against his chest.

His father.

He lowered his hands.

There was no speech.

He simply stood there for a moment before walking toward the tunnel.

Zeraphina, Keyla and Michaela were waiting near the private exit.

Zeraphina looked at him.

“Twenty-five.”

Caos smiled.

“You counted?”

“I always count.”

Keyla shook her head.

“Twenty-five goals. Six assists.”

Caos looked at her.

“Six?”

“Yes.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I was hoping you’d get seven so I could say twenty-five and seven again.”

Caos laughed.

“Sorry.”

“You should be.”

Michaela smiled.

“Getafe actually made you work for it.”

Caos nodded.

“They did.”

Zeraphina looked at him.

“You liked that.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Caos thought about it.

“Because they had a plan.”

“And?”

“I had to think.”

Zeraphina smiled.

“You enjoy that more than scoring sometimes.”

“Sometimes.”

She stepped closer.

Her hand rested over her belly.

Caos looked down.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“The baby?”

“Fine.”

Caos smiled.

“Good.”

Keyla folded her arms.

“You know, one day you’re going to have to explain to your children why their father thought scoring twenty-five goals was a normal Saturday.”

Caos laughed.

“I’ll tell them it wasn’t normal.”

“Will they believe you?”

“No.”

Michaela smiled.

“Probably because they’ll have videos.”

Caos looked toward the emptying stadium.

Then back at Zeraphina.

“They can watch them.”

“And what will you tell them?”

Caos thought for a moment.

“That football was something I loved.”

He placed his hand gently over Zeraphina’s.

“But it wasn’t the whole of my life.”

Zeraphina looked at him.

“Good answer.”

Caos smiled.

“Was it?”

“Yes.”

She leaned against him.

“You’re learning.”

Caos looked down at her.

“So are you.”

“I’ve been learning longer.”

“Fair.”

They laughed.

For once, the conversation wasn’t about records.

Not about the Champions League.

Not about the Dragon Protocol.

Not about quantum travel.

Not about royal families or governments or people trying to understand what Caos was becoming.

It was just a family standing together after another match.

And Caos was already thinking about getting back into the pool.

Keyla noticed.

“Don’t.”

Caos looked at her.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

He smiled.

“Maybe.”

Zeraphina laughed.

“Go shower first.”

Caos sighed.

“Fine.”

Getafe had done something different.

They didn’t chase Caos.

They didn’t surround him with three players every time he touched the ball.

They protected the middle, forced him wide, stayed compact and waited for their opportunities.

For almost forty minutes, it worked.

Then they scored.

And the moment Getafe had to open the game, Caos found the spaces.

That was the real lesson of the night.

Teams were learning how to defend him.

Caos was learning how to make them defend something else.