The 1-1 draw against Everton at Goodison Park felt like a hard-fought battle, a gritty point earned in the face of intense pressure.

Leon Fischer walked off that pitch with his Current: 81 rating humming with satisfaction, a testament to his performance in the hostile environment.

He'd shown resilience, control, and his 'sight' had been sharper than ever, allowing him to anticipate Everton's physical approach.

The team bus ride back was quieter than usual, a mix of exhaustion and relief.

John McGinn (Current: 84) patted Leon on the back.

"Solid shift today, Leo. Tough place to get a point. You were immense in that midfield."

Ollie Watkins (Current: 86) nodded.

"Pickford's save... unreal. You gave me that chance though, brilliant pass."

Leon felt a quiet pride.

He was becoming a consistent performer, recognized by his teammates for his impact.

His 'sight' was now a seamless part of his game, almost an instinct, constantly feeding him micro-predictions that allowed him to react before anyone else.

The next morning, the sports channels were buzzing.

The draw against Everton was analyzed from every angle, and Leon's name came up frequently.

"Leon Fischer continues to impress!" a pundit's voice boomed from the TV in the academy common room."Just sixteen years old, and he's already dictating play in the Premier League. His vision is truly exceptional. We saw him breaking up play, making crucial interceptions, and that pass to Watkins in the dying minutes... pure class."

Another added:"He's got a composure beyond his years. The way he handled the Goodison crowd, the physicality of Everton's midfield... he looks like a seasoned pro. If he keeps this up, he'll be a key player for Villa, and potentially for England, very soon."

Leon watched, a familiar blush creeping up his neck.

It was still strange to hear pundits dissecting his every move, to have his name spoken in the same breath as established Premier League stars.

His mom, he knew, would be beaming, probably recording every segment.

He quickly texted Byon:"Looks like I'm giving you a run for your money now, Mr. 34-Million-Man!"

He imagined Byon's exasperated but grinning reply.

Later that day, as the first team gathered for a recovery session, Leon overheard some of his teammates talking, their voices laced with frustration.

"Tenth place, honestly," one sighed."We should be higher than this."

"Yeah, after all that work," another grumbled."We need to start converting these draws into wins. We've got the talent."

Leon checked the Premier League table on the big screen.

They were indeed in 10th place.

Nine points off a European spot, but also a comfortable distance from the relegation zone.

There were 19 matches left in the season. Still half a season to play.

He walked over to the group, his Current: 81 silently affirming his place among them.

"We can do it," he said, his voice calm but firm."We're playing well. We just need to be more clinical. Turn those draws into wins."

John McGinn looked at him, a flicker of renewed determination in his eyes. "He's right. We've got the quality. We just need to show it consistently."

Ollie Watkins nodded."Time to go on a run. Start climbing this table."

He wasn't just a young player anymore; he was influencing the mood.

"Exactly," he said, meeting their gazes."Let's show them in the next match. Let's show everyone what Aston Villa is really capable of."

The next few training sessions were intense.

Coach Emery pushed them hard, focusing on offensive patterns, quick transitions, and clinical finishing.

Leon spent extra time after sessions working on his long-range passing, trying to replicate the kind of impossible through balls he saw from the likes of Kevin De Bruyne.

He also focused on improving his shooting accuracy from outside the box, seeing those narrow 'gaps' in the goalkeeper's positioning even clearer now.

His 'sight' was becoming almost an extension of his thoughts.

He could anticipate not just immediate actions, but chains of events, predicting how a defender would react to a feint, or where a teammate would instinctively run into space.

It was like a constant, flowing tactical map in his mind.

He knew Byon was pushing himself just as hard at Manchester City.

Their text messages often devolved into playful challenges about 'Current' ratings and market values.

This friendly rivalry, born from years of shared dreams, was now fueling both their drives, pushing them to outdo each other, even when they were on different teams.

The team meeting for their next Premier League fixture came quickly.

The atmosphere in the tactical room was tense but focused.

"Okay, lads," Coach Emery announced, his voice carrying the weight of the upcoming challenge."Next match. At home. A big one."He paused, letting the silence build."We face Chelsea."

A murmur went through the room.Chelsea.

Another giant of English football. A team known for their star-studded lineup, their tactical prowess, and their fierce determination.

Leon's 'sight' immediately flared, and the 'Current' ratings of Chelsea's key players sprang into his mind.

Enzo Fernández (Potential: 89, Current: 87) — their midfield general.Raheem Sterling (Potential: 88, Current: 86) — a dazzling winger with electric pace.Reece James (Potential: 90, Current: 88) — a powerful defender and creative force.Nicolas Jackson (Potential: 87, Current: 84) — a young, explosive striker.

This would be a proper test.

"They will be strong," Emery continued, his eyes scanning the room, his gaze resting on Leon for a moment.

"They will demand everything from us.But we are at Villa Park.We will fight for every ball."

He nodded toward Leon. "Fischer, your performance in the midfield will be crucial. We need your vision to break their lines. We need your composure to control the game."

Leon felt the familiar surge of nerves and excitement.

Chelsea.

Another chance to prove himself against the best.

He pictured Enzo Fernández, their midfield general, and the subtle dance of predictions his 'sight' would engage in.

The battle for midfield supremacy was about to begin.