The following week unfolded like a dream Azul was terrified to wake from.
Every morning he rose earlier than anyone else, laced his boots in the dim light of dawn, and stepped onto the training grounds when the grass still glistened with dew.
He wasn't trying to prove anything to anyone else.
He was trying to prove something to himself —
that he *belonged* here.
That his promotion wasn't a fluke, wasn't charity, wasn't luck.
Each session with the elite U15 squad pushed him to his limits.
Every drill felt like a battle with time, precision, and the relentless tempo demanded by Barça's philosophy.
But Azul thrived in it.
The rhythm of play, the angles of movement, the constant reshaping of space — it was all a language he spoke instinctively.
The Emperor's Eye sharpened with every passing day, revealing new layers of the game he had never noticed before.
And yet… something else hung in the air.
Something strange.
Something exciting.
Whispers.
Rumors.
Quiet conversations between coaches that fell silent whenever players walked by.
It began on a Tuesday.
---
### **The First Hint**
Azul was finishing a rondo session when Coach Navarro blew the whistle.
"Water break!"
Azul jogged to the sideline, panting lightly. Pablo ran over from a different group, breathless and buzzing.
"Bro. Bro."
He grabbed Azul's arm. "Have you heard?"
"Heard what?"
Pablo glanced around dramatically before leaning in.
"They say someone big is visiting La Masia this week."
Azul raised an eyebrow. "Big like… who?"
Pablo wiggled his eyebrows. "Bigger than big."
Azul snorted. "Pablo, that means nothing."
"No, listen!" Pablo insisted, lowering his voice even more. "The older guys swear it's someone from the first team."
Azul's heartbeat instantly picked up.
"The first team?" he echoed.
As in the first team.
As in Barcelona's stars.
As in the players Azul idolized — the players he wanted to join someday.
Pablo nodded eagerly. "Nobody knows who, but the coaches are acting weird. Extra strict. Extra clean-up. Extra… everything."
Azul tried to shrug it off, but a thrill ran down his spine.
He had come to Barcelona dreaming of one thing:
To meet Lionel Messi.
To train with him one day.
To follow in his footsteps.
Could this be connected?
No. He shook the idea out of his head. Messi had already moved to PSG years ago. And even though Azul dreamed of someday playing with him—
He forced himself to breathe.
Dreams were one thing.
Reality was another.
Still… the rumors spread like wildfire.
---
### **Confirmation**
Two days later, after a small-sided match during training, Coach Navarro gathered the entire U15 squad together.
His normally sharp eyes held a rare seriousness.
"Listen carefully," he said. "Tomorrow morning, we will have a special observer joining our sessions."
The group erupted into murmurs.
Navarro raised a hand. Silence fell.
"This observer is a former La Masia graduate," he continued. "One of the greatest players ever produced by this academy."
Azul's heart slammed against his ribs.
His skin prickled.
Navarro looked around at all of them, gaze settling for a moment on Azul.
"Your discipline must be perfect. Your performances must be sharp. Every touch, every movement, every decision — treat it like a trial."
A player in the back whispered loudly, "Is it Xavi?"
Another whispered, "Iniesta?"
Pablo nudged Azul. "Say something. SAY something."
Azul whispered back, "I can't. I'm trying to breathe."
Navarro ignored the murmuring.
"You will know who it is when they arrive. That is all."
And with that, he dismissed them.
Azul walked off the field feeling weightless.
Excited.
Anxious.
Alive.
Who could it be?
Who was great enough for such secrecy?
Someone from the golden era?
Someone from Azul's dreams?
The mystery wrapped around him like a cloak.
---
### **Another Level of Focus**
That night, Azul barely slept.
He lay on his back in his dorm bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment of his training so far.
Every success.
Every flaw.
Every way he could improve.
The upcoming visit felt like a crossroads.
A moment that could change everything.
A moment where one pair of eyes — legendary eyes — might see him play.
What if he messed up?
What if he impressed them?
What if this was the beginning of something bigger?
He closed his eyes tightly.
*Relax, Azul. Breathe. Trust yourself.*
His father's old words echoed like a calming melody.
Morning couldn't come fast enough.
---
### **The Day Arrives**
The sun rose pink and gold over the training ground.
The players gathered early — too early — jittery energy buzzing through the group like static electricity.
Azul tied his boots slowly, as if grounding himself with each tug of the laces.
Pablo paced beside him. "I think I might faint."
"You'll be fine."
"No, seriously. If he's here — if it's HIM — I'll pass out."
Azul gave a nervous laugh. "We don't even know who 'him' is."
But inside, Azul's heart was pounding with a wild thought.
A hope he tried to push away.
A name he was terrified to believe.
Messi.
The idea alone made his chest tighten.
But Messi wasn't in Barcelona anymore.
There was no reason for him to visit La Masia.
No reason for him to watch an academy session.
Unless…
No. Stop. Azul pressed a hand over his heart.
*Focus on the game. Not the dream.*
---
### **The Arrival**
The players lined up on the sideline as instructed, standing straight, silent, boots planted firmly in the grass.
Navarro stood in front of them.
"Be respectful. Be focused. When he speaks, listen."
The door of the training facility opened.
Footsteps approached.
Every player held their breath.
Azul refused to look up at first.
He kept his eyes on the grass.
He didn't want to see someone else and feel disappointment—
he didn't want to hope—
But when the footsteps stopped…
And a shadow fell across the field…
And the players around him gasped—
Azul looked up.
And his heart nearly stopped.
There, standing next to Coach Navarro, wearing simple training gear and a calm, warm smile—
**was Lionel Messi.**
The world blurred.
The field tilted.
Azul forgot to breathe.
Messi.
Here.
At La Masia.
Watching *them*.
Watching *him*.
Navarro spoke, but Azul barely heard it.
"Boys, welcome back one of the greatest players in football history. He's here today to observe, mentor, and speak with you all."
Azul's pulse roared in his ears.
Messi nodded at the group, his voice gentle, unmistakable:
"Let's see how you play."
Azul felt the ground vanish beneath him.
This was it.
The moment he had dreamed of since childhood.
The moment that could change his destiny forever.
And Messi's eyes briefly — briefly — met Azul's.
A spark passed between them.
A spark that felt like fate.
---
**End of Chapter 29**