Chapter 655: The Big Bad Wolf?

All around the major cities in the footballing landscape, clubs and fans were realizing something.

That he who held Izan over the next couple of decades was sure to dominate.

No, dominate didn’t even begin to cover it.

Something that far exceeded domination.

Something akin to chaos.

Something akin to a harbinger.

An Era was coming.

…….

[Hampstead]

The lights were dim.

Just the glow of the skyline pressing through the sheer curtains and the quiet hum of the city below.

Izan let the towel slip from his shoulders, the cool air kissing his skin as the steam from the bathroom followed him out, trailing after him like ghostly mist.

His legs still ached, not from pain, but from something deeper — an echo of the match, of the weight he’d carried again.

Olivia was already curled beneath the covers.

Her soft breaths filled the silence, head nestled against his pillow, one hand outstretched where she’d clearly tried to wait for him.

She hadn’t made it.

He smiled faintly and climbed in beside her.

A hand moved to her cheek, gently brushing away a strand of hair.

She stirred for half a second, murmured something incomprehensible, then fell back into slumber, trusting he was there.

He lay beside her.

Just breathing.

Until the silence broke.

[SYSTEM NOTICE]

Congratulations.

[Following your recent exploits, you have now reached an Overall Rating of 94.

You are the youngest player in history to join this tier — shared only by two others in the current era.]

The words floated in the corner of his vision like a whisper only he could hear.

It felt familiar but also unexpected.

[But from this point forward, your growth will no longer come from stat points.]

The system went a bit quiet after that, with the tension almost swallowing Izan as he couldn’t wait to hear with the system had to say next but he only had to wait for a moment.

[ You’ve outgrown them.

Two paths remain:

1. Chaos Sequences — reckless, unrestrained, improvised football that bends logic and creates ruptures in play. You thrive in this state. But it’s a double-edged sword. Overuse will break you.

2. Growth Through Mastery — earn Mythic Traits, unlock Legend Threads, master the rhythm beneath the rhythm.

Slower. Strategic. Rare.

But sustainable.]

The system went quiet after its unsettling message, but still, Izan said nothing.

He just stared at the ceiling, feeling something twist in his chest.

“…Then why,” he finally murmured, “did the Chelsea match feel so…off?”

[ANALYSIS: ACTIVE]

[ Because you coasted.

You played to win, not to transcend.

You played like someone who believed the hype. ]

Izan’s brow furrowed.

“But I was the catalyst in the game. The one with the touch.”

[ Yes. You shipped in a ball for Havertz to head down for Odegaard to score.

Yes, you whipped in the physics-defying freekick.

Yes. You whipped in a vicious corner, which resulted in a rebound which fell to Nwaner. You controlled the tempo.

But that was you at 50%.

The world is already in awe of you, Izan.

But you’ve started listening to them.

That… is complacency.]

There was no venom in the system’s voice and certainly no mockery.

It was just the hard truth, and Izan knew it.

When he first got the system, he was always on the pitch.

Practicing and perfecting until he couldn’t fail most of the time and then, all together.

But now, his daily tasks were mostly left undone since the system hadn’t deemed it mandatory again after he broke through the 90 OVR mark.

[You forget what you’re capable of when you stop listening to me OR EVERYONE.

With full intent, full focus — you can create football that doesn’t look like football anymore.

If you unleashed yourself with no filter…

They wouldn’t build statues.

They’d build temples and pray. ]

The last sentence hit hard as Izan swallowed, slowly sitting up.

The room was still, Olivia unmoved, the world quiet around him.

[The sharpest blade in the world will still get dull if used without sharpening.

Repetition is not growth, and routine is your enemy now. ]

He leaned forward, hands clasped with elbows on his knees.

“So what now?” he asked, voice low.

[ Now? You stop pretending you’re just talented.

You become inevitable. You become ruthless.

You become the big bad wolf they whisper about in backrooms and boardrooms.

The one who doesn’t knock. The one who doesn’t warn.

The one who takes — with tears on his boots and silence in his wake.]

The words rang louder this time.

The BIG BAD WOLF.

He wasn’t just the story anymore.

He was the whole Idea.

And if the world needed to burn for it to remember that…

Then so be it.

He looked at Olivia one last time. Peaceful. Dreaming.

One of the only things in the world that made him feel human and then, he lay back, eyes wide open now.

……

[The Next Morning]

The sheets beside her were cold.

Olivia stirred, her hand brushing over empty linen, fingers stretching toward nothing.

The room was still dark, the soft hum of London rain tapping against the window and the only light being the ambient ones around the room.

She sat up slowly, blinking the sleep from her eyes.

“Izan?” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper, but got no answer from the bathroom.

For a brief second, her chest tightened — had he even come home?

But she had felt him too?

Then she heard it.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She slipped out of bed and threw on one of Izan’s nefore she padded barefoot across the tiled floors towards the huge glass opening.

Sensing her presence, the glass opening, which had frosted itself, began turning transparent again, and the shape outside was unmistakable.

A lone figure in a grey Adidas hoodie, hood up, juggling a football with quiet calm.

In the rain.

In the yard.

She stepped outside, the cold damp brushing her skin, and leaned slightly against the panel.

For a moment, she just watched.

Each touch of the ball was effortless — controlled, quiet, fluid.

Like he was juggling time itself.

“I thought the yard was for kids,” she called softly.

He caught the ball on his instep without turning, with her sudden voice putting a smile on his face.

She walked closer, arms folded against the chill, still watching him.

“Didn’t Miranda say we’d only need it when little Izan shows up? If and whenever that is?”

He finally turned, eyes glinting under the hood.

“It felt a bit tough, so I thought I’d break them in before they came,” he said.

She gave a breath of a laugh, stepping into the drizzle beside him.

“They?” Olivia questioned before proceeding to rush towards Izan, who flicked the ball over her.

She kept laughing, her smile causing Izan to realise something as she kept chasing for the ball.

Football was his life, but that wasn’t all there was to life.

He had her.

He had Komi. Hori. Miranda.

All of them.

People who might not throw themselves into the fire to save him…

…but would damn well stand on the shoreline, screaming his name until he fought his way out of the smoke.

They tussled for the ball — Olivia lunging with a grin, Izan flicking it over her head again.

Back and forth like kids as their laughter echoed off the wet walls of the yard.

Then he stilled.

The rain fell a little harder now, sticking to the hoodie, dripping down his brow.

Olivia looked at him, breathless, confused.

His expression had changed.

Eyes distant. Listening.

System online.

:: Two routes remain:

Option One — Chaos Sequences.

Option Two — Growth Through Mastery.::

Izan rolled the ball under his foot.

“You still don’t get it,” he murmured beneath his breath.

Olivia tilted her head. “What?”

He met her eyes for a second, then shook his head softly. “Nothing.”

System awaiting selection.

He looked up into the grey sky, the drizzle soaking into his lashes, the ball quiet under his boot.

“No,” he said calmly. “I’m not picking either.”

Error. Clarify.

“I’m not a product of your framework. I’m not some branch of your decision tree.”

His voice was low, certain.

“I’m not Chaos. I’m not Mastery.”

“I’m Izan.”

The system paused.

Then:

::Input unclear. Define route.::

“The Izan Route,” he said.

“Make room for it.”

And somewhere deep inside — the system obeyed.

Begrudgingly. Silently. But it obeyed.

Because this wasn’t a boy reacting to the world anymore.

This was a boy rewriting it.

Olivia leaned in, arms around him, forehead resting against his chest.

“You good?” she asked softly.

Izan just smiled.

“A bit wet, but I’ve seen wetter,” Izan said with a devious grin, causing Olivia to gasp.

“IZANN!” she roared before chasing him.

“No, I meant a rainy and wet night in Stoke”, he said before pulling away as it was easier for him to run in the rain.

[Inside the house]

“Kids,” Hori, who had now woken up with a cereal bowl in hand, called before turning towards the TV

A/N: Okay guys, might have to relegate the last 2 chapters to the 1 remaining for today if I was to continue writing. Which means I owe you another 3 chapters when I wake up. Sorry for not releasing them all in bulk. Will release the remainder when I wake up. Have fun reading and I’ll see you when I wake up.