Preparations

Across London, the locker room of the London Monarchs was still buzzing with energy and celebration after their dominant 4-0 win against the Northern Wolves. Players laughed, exchanged jokes, and scrolled through their phones, checking match results from around the league.

Jadon Keyes, still in his training gear, sat at his locker with his boots untied, one leg propped up. He was relaxed, but his mind wasn’t on the match they had just won.

His eyes were locked onto the screen in front of him.

The Emirates Gunners vs. Eastport Mariners highlights were playing. More specifically, he was rewatching one clip.

Sverre Odegaard’s goal.

The way the young Norwegian glided past defenders, how he took control of the midfield, and most importantly, his composure in front of goal.

Jadon smirked slightly, leaning back in his seat.

“Interesting.”

Across the room, Zion Adeyemi, his teammate and longtime rival, caught his expression and raised an eyebrow.

 “What’s got you so entertained?”

Jadon turned the screen toward him, pausing at the moment Sverre struck the ball. “This kid. Ødegaard. You ever heard of him? He’s from our country.”

Zion took a sip of his energy drink, his gaze flicking to the replay. He watched as Sverre’s shot hit the post and bounced in, then how he barely reacted to the celebration, as if he had expected it. Cold.

“Not really,” Zion admitted. “But that was class.”

Jadon nodded, rolling his shoulders. “He wasn’t even supposed to start. Came off the bench and flipped the game on its head.”

Zion studied him for a moment. “What? You scouting now?”

Jadon shrugged, his smirk widening. “Nah. I just like players who don’t fold under pressure. Might be worth keeping an eye on.”

Zion laughed. “You feeling threatened?”

Jadon scoffed, pushing himself up from his seat. “Please. With you and Santacruz locking down midfield, he won’t get a second on the ball. But… it’s not often you see a kid step into a high-pressure game and look that comfortable.”

“You know what? You’re right,” Zion said taking his bag from his locker. “If he continues at this pace he might just get picked for the Norway team. Would be nice to have player like him.”

Jadon glanced at the screen one las time before tossing his phone into his bag. “If he keeps playing like that…he’s going to be a real asset for the national team.”

Two days later…

The buzz of the domestic league was still in the air but now, the football world shifted its attention to the biggest club competition in Europe. The UEFA Champions League, was set to begin. A competition with a single league phase where all 36 teams would compete in one massive table, each club playing eight different opponents.

The stakes? The top eight teams would qualify directly for the Round of 16, while the teams ranked 9th to 24th would battle in a playoff round for the remaining eight spots. It was a high-risk, high-reward system, ensuring more top clashes early on and fewer ‘easy’ fixtures.

For players, it meant every match counted. One loss could be the difference between automatic qualification or fighting through the playoff round.

And the first set of fixtures had everyone talking.

Matchday 1 Fixtures – Champions League League Phase

London Monarchs (England) vs. Bianconeri JFC (Italy)

Emirates Gunners (England) vs. Bavarian Munchen (Germany)

Real Castilla (Spain) vs. Parisians FC (France)

FCB Catalonia (Spain) vs. St. James Magpies (England)

AC Rossoneri (Italy) vs. Saxon Wolves (Germany)

Borussia FC (Germany) vs. Lombardy Milan (Italy)

Atletico Royals (Spain) vs. Ajax (Netherlands)

Benfica (Portugal) vs. Marseille (France)

Valencia Titans (Spain) vs Anfield Reds (England)

The football world was on edge —powerhouses clashing earlier than ever, and underdogs looking to upset the elite.

The tie that had everyone buzzing was Valencia Titans vs. Anfield Reds—last season’s Champions League winners facing off against the English champions.

At the Emirates training ground, the focus had shifted instantly. The dramatic 3-2 win over Eastport Mariners had given them momentum, but now, they faced Bavarian Munchen, last year’s Bundesliga winners in the German League.

Rivera had gathered his players, a laser-focused look on his face. The squad sat in anticipation as he clicked a button on his tablet. The screen in front of them flickered to life, displaying Bavarian’s tactical setup.

“Alright, listen up.” Rivera’s voice was firm. “Bavarian aren’t Eastport. They don’t play chaotic football. They play structured, high-intensity football. Their midfield dominates games, their wingers burn down the flanks, and their fullbacks press like extra attackers. I won't lie, this is the worst time to be facing a team like them, especially with the away game against London Monarchs on Sunday coming up. But it is also an opportunity to test ourselves against the best teams.”

Rivera swiped the screen. Three names appeared—Bavarian’s biggest threats:

“Jamal Kaiser, he’s the brain of the midfield. Footwork like silk, vision like a hawk. If we don’t shut him down, he will run the show.”

Rivera swipes the next screen.

“Kane Porter, their goal machine. He can shoot from anywhere around the box. Has a touch that rivals even our Arsenic here. Baxton and Kaminski, I need you to be at your best. You will man mark him, he should not get close to the ball without you breathing around his neck.”

He paused before switching to the next slide.

“Leon Bexler, the Fastest left-back in the world. He likes to make runs forward to help with the attack. We can’t afford a slow start with him on the pitch. Let’s match their intensity from the jump and hit them on the counter.”

Then, his gaze locked onto Sverre Odegaard.

“You changed the game last match. With Yuri out, you will start. Show me what you can do in this game and you might become a first team player.“

Sverre's fingers curled slightly into fists. He nodded keeping his face blank but he could feel his heart trying to jump out of his chest. This was it-his first start and at the champions league no less.

Rivera put down his tablet and blew the whistle.

Jenna Morales, the Physiotherapist and Kells, the team’s trainer came to the ground.

“We have a tough week coming up," Rivera continued. "These two games back to back will exhaust you and every second on the pitch  is going to matter. Some of you were running on fumes in the final minutes last match...that can't happen again."

He gestured toward Jenna and Kells.

"They're here to make sure you're ready. These three days are going to be grueling, the aim is to boost your stamina and strength. Also, due to the closeness of these two games, we're going to be doing a lot of rotations...so when i tell you play a position that is not your best, i need you to do it."

Another sharp blow of the whistle.

“Let’s get to work!”

Meanwhile, across town at the Monarchs’ training facility, Jadon Keyes and Zion Adeyemi were wrapping up an intense gym session.  The smell of sweat and metal from the weights filled the air. Zion strained as lift up the weight finishing his last rep. The weight fell down to the ground with a huge clanking sound. Exhausted, they slumped onto a bench, towels draped over their shoulders. 

Zion exhaled heavily, reaching for his water bottle. “Whew! My muscles are burning.” 

Jadon smirked, still catching his breath. “Good. Now let’s hit the pitch—work on some crosses.”

Zion shot him a look, shaking his head. “Are you serious? Can’t you see I’m dying here?”

The team they were facing, Bianconeri JFC weren’t at their peak performance barely finishing at top 4 to qualify for the Champions League but they were still dangerous. Especially after their busy transfer window acquiring the talents of Federico Fiore and Lucas Morreira.

Jadon chuckled, standing up and stretching. “Fine. I’ll go without you.”

Zion groaned, watching as Jadon made his way toward the door. With a reluctant sigh, he pushed himself up. “Alright, alright. I’m coming.”

Jadon glanced back, his grin widening. “You ready for this?”

Zion smirked, rolling his shoulders. “Hell yeah.”

With the Champions League about to kick off, excitement surged across Europe. The stage was set. The battle was about to begin.