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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Outside the windows, the massive highways and glowing skyscrapers of Shanghai stretched endlessly ahead as the bus headed toward the hotel where the Arsenal squad would stay before their upcoming match against Bayern Munich.
The bus rolled steadily along the wide expressway leaving the airport behind.
Outside the windows, the skyline of Shanghai stretched endlessly in every direction. Towering buildings rose from the horizon like steel forests, their glass walls reflecting the soft glow of the early evening sky.
For many of the players, it was their first time in China.
The scale of the city alone was enough to capture their attention.
Inside the bus, however, the mood was quieter than usual.
Long-haul flights had a way of draining even the most energetic footballers.
Some players leaned back into their seats with headphones on.
Others simply stared out the windows, absorbing the unfamiliar surroundings.
Francesco rested his arm against the window ledge and watched the city pass by.
Highways intertwined like ribbons of light.
Cars flowed smoothly in organized streams.
Bright electronic billboards flashed advertisements in Mandarin characters that most of the squad couldn't read.
Across the aisle, Kyle Walker rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms.
"Jet lag already," he muttered.
Francesco smirked slightly.
"You slept half the flight."
Walker shrugged.
"Not enough."
Behind them, Olivier Giroud was leaning forward in his seat looking out the window with genuine curiosity.
"This city is massive," he said.
Theo Walcott nodded.
"Feels like it never ends."
Further back, Virgil van Dijk remained calm and quiet, his gaze following the long rows of apartment towers sliding past the bus.
Beside him, Shkodran Mustafi shook his head slightly.
"Look at those buildings," Mustafi said.
"There must be millions of people here."
Van Dijk nodded.
"There are."
Near the front of the bus, Alexis Sánchez leaned toward the window, watching motorcycles weave through traffic between lanes.
Every few minutes, the bus passed under enormous overhead signs directing traffic toward different districts of the city.
The journey from Shanghai Pudong International Airport into the city center took some time.
But eventually the scenery began to change.
The dense skyline shifted toward an area filled with modern luxury hotels and commercial buildings.
Brightly lit entrances glowed along the street.
Doormen in formal uniforms stood near revolving doors.
Finally the bus slowed as it approached a large glass-fronted hotel tower rising above the surrounding buildings.
Soft golden lights illuminated the building's facade.
The entrance canopy stretched outward above the driveway where several luxury cars were already parked.
The Arsenal crest on the bus reflected briefly in the polished glass walls as the vehicle rolled to a smooth stop.
They had arrived at their hotel.
For the next few days, this would be home.
The bus door opened with a quiet hiss.
Cool evening air drifted inside.
One by one the players began standing up, grabbing their bags and stretching their stiff legs after the long journey.
Walker stepped into the aisle and glanced toward Francesco.
"Finally."
Francesco nodded.
"Yeah."
Giroud stood behind them, rolling his shoulders slightly.
"Shower," he said simply.
Nobody argued with that idea.
The players stepped down from the bus and onto the pavement outside the hotel entrance.
Immediately the sounds of the city surrounded them.
Traffic humming.
Distant horns.
The murmur of conversations in Mandarin from nearby pedestrians.
Hotel staff waited politely near the entrance doors, ready to assist with luggage.
Some curious onlookers paused briefly across the street, noticing the arrival of the Arsenal squad.
Seeing a full Premier League team arriving at a hotel in Shanghai naturally attracted attention.
But security staff gently kept the entrance clear as the players walked inside.
The hotel lobby was enormous.
High ceilings stretched upward several stories.
Elegant chandeliers hung above polished marble floors.
Soft lighting reflected across decorative fountains and tall indoor plants arranged around the space.
Several guests sitting in the lounge area turned their heads as the Arsenal squad entered together.
A few whispered quietly to each other.
Others quickly reached for their phones.
It wasn't every evening that an entire European football team walked through the lobby.
Francesco stepped inside and glanced around briefly.
Even after years of international travel, moments like this always felt surreal.
Across the room, equipment staff were already unloading suitcases and gear bags from the carts that had been brought inside from the bus.
The players gathered near the reception area where several long tables had been prepared.
Behind the tables stood Arsenal's travel staff organizing envelopes and room cards.
Everything had already been arranged in advance.
Efficiency was part of the club's routine.
"Alright," one of the staff members called out.
"Just come forward and collect your room cards."
Players began forming a loose line.
Giroud leaned slightly toward Walcott.
"Top floor," he joked.
Walcott laughed.
"You wish."
Meanwhile, Robertson was looking up toward the towering glass elevator shafts running along the side of the lobby.
"These hotels always feel like airports," he said.
Walker nodded.
"Except quieter."
One by one the players stepped forward to collect their room keys.
Each envelope contained their room number along with a small schedule card for the upcoming days.
When Francesco stepped forward, the staff member handed him his envelope with a polite nod.
"Room 1824."
Francesco glanced at the number.
"Thanks."
Nearby, Van Dijk opened his envelope and chuckled softly.
"Same floor," he said to Mustafi.
Mustafi nodded.
"Good."
Eventually everyone had gathered their room cards.
At that moment, Arsène Wenger stepped forward slightly near the center of the lobby.
The players instinctively turned toward him.
Even after a long flight, Wenger's calm presence immediately commanded attention.
He slipped his hands casually into the pockets of his jacket and looked around at the group.
"I know everyone is tired," he began.
A few quiet laughs spread through the players.
That was an understatement.
Wenger smiled faintly.
"You have traveled a long distance today."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"So tonight, the priority is simple."
"Rest."
Several players nodded instantly.
That word sounded perfect after a ten-hour flight.
Wenger continued.
"Tomorrow morning we begin preparations for our next match."
The mention of the next match instantly sharpened everyone's focus.
Their opponent would be one of Europe's strongest clubs.
FC Bayern Munich.
Wenger continued speaking calmly.
"Training will take place at the facilities of Shanghai Port F.C.."
A few players nodded again.
They had already seen the schedule.
"The session will be light," Wenger added.
"Mainly recovery and tactical preparation."
He looked around at the squad once more.
"Our match against Bayern Munich will be our third preseason match of this tour."
His voice remained steady.
"And a good test for us."
Nobody disagreed with that.
Facing Bayern, even in preseason, always carried a certain weight.
Wenger gave a final small nod.
"So tonight, get some sleep."
"Tomorrow we work."
That was the end of the speech.
Short.
Simple.
Exactly what the players expected.
The group began dispersing almost immediately.
Some players headed toward the elevators.
Others stopped briefly to grab bottles of water from a nearby refreshment table prepared by the staff.
Walker looked at Francesco as they walked toward the elevators together.
"Sleep for twelve hours," he joked.
Francesco smirked.
"Jet lag won't let you."
Walker sighed.
"Probably not."
Behind them, Giroud and Walcott were already discussing room service options.
"I'm telling you," Giroud insisted.
"There will be noodles."
Walcott laughed.
"You just got off a plane."
Giroud shrugged.
"Still hungry."
Nearby, Van Dijk stretched his neck slightly as he waited for the elevator doors to open.
"Training tomorrow will help," he said quietly.
Francesco nodded.
"Always does."
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.
Several players stepped inside together.
As the doors closed and the elevator began rising smoothly toward the upper floors, the long day of travel finally began to settle over the group.
Outside the glass walls of the elevator shaft, the bright lights of Shanghai shimmered through the night.
A new city, with a new challenge.
The elevator continued rising smoothly through the tall glass shaft, carrying several Arsenal players toward their rooms high above the city.
Outside the transparent walls, the glowing skyline of Shanghai shimmered beneath the evening haze. Endless rows of lights stretched across the horizon like constellations scattered across the ground.
Inside the elevator, nobody spoke much.
The long travel day had finally caught up with them.
Kyle Walker leaned slightly against the rail behind him, rolling his shoulders to loosen the stiffness from sitting on the plane.
"Feels like my body still thinks we're in Australia," he muttered.
Virgil van Dijk chuckled quietly.
"Give it a day."
Francesco stood beside them with his hands loosely in the pockets of his jacket, watching the floor numbers slowly climb.
16…
17…
18…
A soft chime sounded as the elevator reached their floor.
The doors slid open.
A quiet hallway stretched ahead, lined with thick carpet and soft lighting. The atmosphere was calm and insulated from the noise of the city far below.
Players stepped out one by one, wheeling their luggage behind them.
"Good night," Van Dijk said as he headed toward his room with Mustafi.
"Night," Francesco replied.
Walker walked beside him down the corridor for a moment before stopping outside his door.
"Tomorrow," Walker said, pointing at Francesco.
"You're running in training."
Francesco smirked.
"You're chasing."
Walker laughed.
"Not after this flight."
They both shared a tired grin before heading into their rooms.
Francesco stepped into his room and quietly closed the door behind him.
The room was spacious, modern, and lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the glowing skyline of Shanghai.
He set his backpack on the desk and walked slowly toward the window.
The city stretched endlessly beyond the glass.
Traffic lights moved along highways like streams of glowing insects.
Tall towers pierced the night sky.
Even after years of football travel, cities like this always carried a certain energy.
But tonight exhaustion slowly outweighed curiosity.
Francesco exhaled slowly and rubbed his eyes.
Ten hours on a plane.
Another hour on a bus.
And tomorrow training would begin again.
He took a quick shower, letting the hot water loosen the stiffness from the flight.
Afterward he changed into comfortable clothes and checked his phone.
Several messages had arrived while they traveled.
Family.
Friends.
Fans reacting to the preseason goals.
And one message from Leah.
He smiled faintly and typed a short reply before finally lying down on the bed.
The room lights dimmed.
Outside, the lights of Shanghai continued glowing long into the night.
But within minutes, fatigue finally won.
Francesco fell asleep.
Morning arrived quietly.
Soft sunlight filtered through the tall curtains as the city outside slowly came alive again.
Francesco's eyes opened slowly.
For a brief moment, his mind needed to remember where he was.
Not London.
Not Sydney.
Shanghai.
He sat up slowly and stretched his arms overhead, feeling the stiffness in his shoulders fade slightly.
Jet lag still lingered, but sleep had helped.
Across the city, traffic had already begun moving along the highways far below.
Francesco stood up and walked toward the window again.
Daylight revealed just how enormous Shanghai truly was.
Apartment towers stretched endlessly in every direction.
Glass office buildings reflected the pale morning sky.
Even from the eighteenth floor, the city felt impossibly vast.
After a few moments, he turned back toward the room and began getting ready.
He opened his suitcase and pulled out the familiar black and red Arsenal F.C. travel jumpsuit.
Training day.
Even if today's session would be light.
He changed quickly, tying the zipper up to the collar before slipping on his trainers.
His phone buzzed again with a message from the team group chat.
Breakfast downstairs.
8:00.
Francesco grabbed his room card and stepped into the hallway.
The corridor was already more active than the previous night.
Several players were leaving their rooms at the same time.
Van Dijk stepped out of his door just as Francesco walked past.
"Morning," the Dutch defender said.
"Morning."
"Sleep okay?"
Francesco nodded.
"Better than expected."
Van Dijk smiled.
"Good."
Further down the hall, Walker was emerging from his room while adjusting the sleeves of his Arsenal jacket.
"Jet lag undefeated," Walker muttered.
Francesco laughed.
"You look fine."
Walker shook his head.
"I woke up at four."
"Same."
"See?"
They walked together toward the elevator.
When the doors opened downstairs, the atmosphere of the hotel had completely changed compared to the quiet evening before.
Guests were moving through the lobby.
Staff were organizing breakfast service.
The restaurant area near the back of the lobby was already open.
The Arsenal squad gradually filtered inside.
The hotel restaurant was bright and spacious, with tall windows overlooking the busy morning streets of Shanghai.
Long buffet tables had been arranged with a mixture of international and local breakfast options.
Fresh fruit.
Eggs.
Toast.
Rice dishes.
Vegetables.
Juices.
Everything designed to provide light but balanced nutrition.
Players moved through the buffet line casually, selecting small portions.
Preseason travel meant the staff always encouraged lighter breakfasts before training sessions.
Giroud stood near the buffet staring thoughtfully at a bowl of noodles.
"I told you," he said proudly to Walcott.
"Noodles."
Walcott laughed.
"You predicted that yesterday."
Giroud grabbed a small bowl.
"Recovery."
Nearby, Sánchez was already sitting at one of the tables eating fruit and yogurt while scrolling through something on his phone.
Van Dijk joined him with a plate of eggs and toast.
"Morning," Sánchez said.
Van Dijk nodded.
"Morning."
At another table, Walker sat down beside Francesco with a cup of coffee.
"You think today will actually be light training?" Walker asked.
Francesco shrugged.
"With the boss?"
Walker grinned.
"Fair point."
Across the room, Arsène Wenger had already arrived and was quietly speaking with several members of the coaching staff.
Even during breakfast, preparation for the upcoming match against FC Bayern Munich had already begun.
Players finished their meals slowly.
Nobody rushed.
The atmosphere was calm.
Focused.
The kind of quiet preparation that always came before serious matches.
Eventually staff members began reminding players about the departure schedule.
"Bus leaves in fifteen minutes."
Chairs slid back from tables.
Players carried their empty plates to the collection area.
Francesco took one last sip of water before standing.
"Ready?" Walker asked.
"Always."
Back in the hotel lobby, the Arsenal squad began gathering again near the entrance.
Training bags appeared.
Staff checked attendance.
Equipment cases were loaded onto luggage carts that would be transported separately.
Outside the large glass doors, the familiar black team bus was already waiting.
Its engine idled quietly near the curb.
A few early fans had already gathered outside the hotel hoping to catch a glimpse of the players.
Security staff kept the entrance clear while allowing the supporters to wave and take photos.
Francesco stepped outside briefly while adjusting his jacket.
Immediately a few fans recognized him.
"FRANCESCO!"
He raised a hand politely toward them with a smile.
Even during preseason tours, those small moments mattered.
Soon the players began boarding the bus again.
Walker stepped up behind Francesco.
"Training in China," he said.
"Didn't expect that a few years ago."
Francesco nodded.
"Football travels everywhere now."
They climbed aboard and found their seats.
Within minutes the entire squad had settled in.
The bus doors closed.
The driver started the engine.
Slowly the vehicle pulled away from the hotel entrance.
The morning traffic of Shanghai surrounded the bus almost immediately.
Scooters zipped between cars.
Pedestrians crossed wide intersections.
Towering skyscrapers rose above the roads like giants.
Inside the bus, the players seemed more awake than the previous evening.
Coffee helped.
So did the anticipation of returning to the pitch.
Van Dijk sat across from Mustafi reviewing notes on a small tablet.
Walker leaned back with his headphones on.
Giroud was still discussing breakfast with Walcott.
"You didn't try the noodles," he said.
Walcott shook his head.
"Too early."
Francesco sat near the window watching the city pass by again.
But this time the destination wasn't the airport.
It was the training ground of Shanghai Port F.C..
The place where Arsenal would prepare for their third preseason match.
Against Bayern Munich.
The bus rolled steadily through the busy streets.
The bus rolled steadily through the busy streets, gradually leaving behind the densest parts of the city center.
Glass towers slowly gave way to wider roads, quieter districts, and stretches of green space that occasionally appeared between clusters of buildings.
Even here, far from the downtown skyline of Shanghai, the scale of the city was still overwhelming.
Massive apartment blocks rose in neat rows.
Elevated highways curved overhead like ribbons of steel.
Scooters buzzed past intersections in organized waves whenever the lights changed.
Inside the bus, the Arsenal players had settled into a more focused mood.
Travel fatigue had mostly faded now.
The familiar anticipation of stepping onto a training pitch again was starting to replace it.
Francesco sat by the window watching the city slowly shift around them.
His gaze occasionally drifted across the bus.
Virgil van Dijk was still quietly reviewing something on his tablet while occasionally exchanging a few words with Shkodran Mustafi beside him.
Across the aisle, Kyle Walker had taken off his headphones and was now looking out the window as well.
"You can tell we're getting close," Walker said.
Francesco glanced over.
"How?"
Walker pointed ahead through the windshield.
"Fields."
Francesco leaned slightly to look forward.
Walker was right.
The road ahead was beginning to pass alongside open green training pitches surrounded by fences and small stadium stands.
Football facilities.
A few minutes later the bus slowed as it approached the entrance gate of the training complex belonging to Shanghai Port F.C..
Security staff waved the bus through after recognizing the club transport.
The gates slid open.
The vehicle rolled into the complex.
Several pristine grass pitches stretched across the facility, their bright green surfaces glowing under the morning sunlight.
Training equipment had already been set up on one of the fields.
Cones.
Small goals.
Passing grids.
Everything had been prepared in advance by the Arsenal staff who had arrived earlier.
The bus curved around the central building of the facility and came to a gentle stop near the main entrance.
The Arsenal crest on the side of the bus caught the sunlight as the engine quieted.
"Here we go," Walker said, standing up.
Francesco grabbed his small training bag and stepped into the aisle.
One by one the players stood, stretching their legs before moving toward the exit.
When the door opened, a fresh wave of outdoor air drifted inside.
It carried the faint scent of grass and morning humidity.
The players stepped down from the bus and looked around the complex.
The training facility was impressive.
Large modern buildings stood beside several well-maintained football pitches.
Staff members from Shanghai Port F.C. waited nearby to greet them politely.
But there wasn't much time for sightseeing.
The morning schedule was already underway.
An Arsenal staff member gestured toward the building.
"Dressing rooms are inside."
The players began walking toward the entrance together.
Their boots echoed softly across the concrete path as they entered the facility.
Inside, the building felt cool and quiet.
Wide hallways led toward several locker rooms that had been prepared specifically for the visiting squad.
When the Arsenal players stepped inside their dressing room, the familiar scent of football gear immediately greeted them.
Clean training kits had already been laid out neatly at each locker.
Red shirts.
Black shorts.
White socks.
The colors of Arsenal F.C..
Water bottles were placed beside each seat.
Equipment bags lined one wall.
Players moved around the room casually, finding their lockers and setting down their bags.
"Nice setup," Walker said as he dropped into a seat and opened his bag.
Van Dijk nodded approvingly while tying his boot laces.
"Good pitch outside too."
Nearby, Olivier Giroud was already changing into his training shirt while continuing a conversation with Theo Walcott.
"I still say noodles were the right breakfast choice," Giroud insisted.
Walcott laughed while pulling on his socks.
"Wait until training starts."
Francesco sat down at his locker and began changing as well.
The routine felt automatic by now.
Jumpsuit off.
Training shirt on.
Boots tied.
Shin guards adjusted.
Around the room, conversations rose and fell naturally as players finished getting ready.
But gradually the noise began to fade as focus returned.
Because once they stepped outside those doors, it would be back to work.
A few minutes later, the final players finished tying their boots.
The room grew quiet for a moment.
Then the door opened.
Arsène Wenger stepped inside with several assistant coaches following behind him.
Wenger glanced around the room calmly.
"Ready?"
Several players nodded.
"Good," Wenger said simply.
"Let's go."
The squad rose from their seats and began heading toward the exit.
As they stepped out of the building, the training pitches stretched ahead beneath the clear Shanghai sky.
Bright green grass.
White lines freshly painted.
Several Arsenal staff members were already waiting beside the field.
Among them stood the assistant coaches preparing the drills.
Francesco walked onto the pitch and immediately felt the familiar sensation of grass beneath his boots.
Even after long travel days, moments like this always brought energy back.
Around him, teammates began spreading out across the field.
Stretching.
Passing balls lightly.
Loosening their legs.
On the sideline, Wenger stood with his assistants watching carefully.
His hands rested behind his back as he observed every movement.
Preseason training was always about preparation.
About rhythm.
About sharpening instincts again after travel.
One of the assistant coaches blew a whistle.
"Alright, warm-up!"
Players immediately gathered in small groups and began jogging slowly around the pitch.
The pace was relaxed at first.
Just enough to wake up their legs after the long flight.
Francesco ran alongside Walker and Walcott as they circled the field.
Walker exhaled slowly.
"Okay," he admitted.
"That breakfast is settling now."
Walcott laughed.
"Good timing."
After several laps, the squad gathered near the center circle for stretching drills.
Hamstrings.
Calves.
Hip rotations.
Everything designed to loosen muscles that had spent too many hours sitting in an airplane seat.
The assistant coaches guided each exercise carefully while Wenger watched from the sideline.
His eyes rarely missed anything.
After the stretching session ended, the players were divided into small passing groups.
Quick one-touch drills began across the pitch.
The rhythm of football returned quickly.
Pass.
Control.
Move.
Pass again.
Francesco received the ball from Van Dijk and returned it instantly with a firm one-touch pass.
The ball rolled smoothly across the grass.
The quality of the pitch was excellent.
Nearby, Giroud flicked a pass with the outside of his boot toward Walcott.
"Nice," Walcott said.
Giroud grinned.
"Always."
Gradually the tempo increased.
More movement.
More touches.
More communication.
The assistant coaches set up small-sided possession drills using cones placed across the field.
Teams of five rotated quickly inside the grids.
The objective was simple.
Keep the ball.
Move constantly.
Apply pressure.
Francesco pressed forward as Walker tried to slip a pass past him.
He intercepted it cleanly and quickly turned away before sliding the ball toward Sánchez.
"Good," one of the coaches called from the sideline.
Wenger watched quietly.
Every movement told him something.
Fitness levels.
Sharpness.
Team chemistry.
Even in preseason, these details mattered.
As the session continued, the drills gradually became more intense.
Short sprints were added between passing exercises.
Players chased loose balls.
Communication grew louder.
The energy of competition slowly returned.
Francesco felt the familiar rhythm building inside his legs again.
The fatigue of travel was fading with every sprint and pass.
Football always had that effect.
Across the pitch, Walker attempted to accelerate past Van Dijk during a possession drill.
Van Dijk stepped across calmly and intercepted the ball.
"Too easy," the Dutch defender said with a grin.
Walker shook his head.
"Just warming up."
Laughter spread briefly through the group.
But the focus remained.
On the sideline, Wenger spoke quietly with one of the assistant coaches.
They occasionally gestured toward the field while observing the players.
Everything they saw today would help shape the preparation for the upcoming match.
Against FC Bayern Munich.
One of the strongest teams in Europe.
Eventually the whistle blew again.
The players slowed their pace and gathered near the center of the pitch.
Sweat glistened across their training shirts now.
Breathing had deepened.
But the session had done exactly what it was meant to do.
Wake up the squad.
Reconnect them with the ball.
And prepare them for the challenge ahead.
Wenger stepped forward slightly.
His calm voice carried across the group.
"Good work."
The players listened quietly.
"Today was about recovery and rhythm," he continued.
"And you responded well."
He paused briefly before finishing.
"Tomorrow we increase the intensity."
A few players nodded knowingly.
The preparation was only beginning.
The match against Bayern Munich was coming soon, and Arsenal intended to be ready.
______________________________________________
Name : Francesco Lee
Age : 18 (2016)
Birthplace : London, England
Football Club : Arsenal First Team
Championship History : 2014/2015 Premier League, 2014/2015 FA Cup, 2015/2016 Community Shield, 2016/2017 Premier League, 2015/2016 Champions League, Euro 2016, Premier League Champion 2016/2017, and 2016/2017 Champions League.
Season 17/18 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 2
Goal: 3
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
POTM: 0
England:
Match: 0
Goal: 0
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 16/17 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 55
Goal: 87
Assist: 5
MOTM: 14
POTM: 1
England:
Match: 1
Goal: 1
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 15/16 stats:
Arsenal:
Match Played: 60
Goal: 82
Assist: 10
MOTM: 9
POTM: 1
England:
Match Played: 2
Goal: 4
Assist: 0
Euro 2016
Match Played: 6
Goal: 13
Assist: 4
MOTM: 6
Season 14/15 stats:
Match Played: 35
Goal: 45
Assist: 12
MOTM: 9