CHAPTER 482: 1

The biology classroom was green. Not painted green, but full of plants. Ferns, spider plants, and a cactus that looked suspiciously like Mr. Pringle the drama teacher.

Mrs. Baker stood at the front. She was holding a leaf up to the light.

"Photosynthesis," Mrs. Baker said. "It is the process of turning light into energy. The plant takes the chaotic energy of the sun and turns it into structured sugar. Glucose. Fuel."

Alex sat at his desk. He was spinning a pen.

Chaos into structure.

That was football. The game was messy. The ball bounced anywhere. The crowd screamed. The job of a midfielder was to take that noise and turn it into a goal.

"Mr. Finch," Mrs. Baker asked. "What is the waste product of photosynthesis?"

Alex looked up.

"Oxygen, Miss," Alex said. "The plant breathes out what we need to breathe in."

"Correct," Mrs. Baker smiled. "A perfect symbiotic relationship."

Mark raised his hand. He was wearing sunglasses indoors.

"Yes, Mark?" Mrs. Baker sighed.

"If I eat a lightbulb, will I get super energy?" Mark asked.

"No, Mark. You will get broken glass in your stomach and a trip to the hospital."

"Oh," Mark looked disappointed. "What if I just lick it?"

"Please do not lick the electrical equipment," Mrs. Baker said.

The bell rang.

Alex packed his bag. He had passed the test. But the real test was tonight.

Champions League. Group Stage. Matchday 4.

Borussia Dortmund. Away.

Signal Iduna Park.

They called it The Yellow Wall. It was the loudest stadium in Europe.

Alex walked out to the car park.

Milo was waiting.

Milo was dressed as... a bumblebee.

He was wearing a yellow and black striped suit with wire wings on his back and antennae on his head.

"BUZZ BUZZ!" Milo screamed. "I AM THE QUEEN BEE! ALEX! I AM SELLING HONEY! REAL GERMAN HONEY! IT IS VERY STICKY! I SPILLED SOME IN MY POCKET!"

"Milo, why are you a bee?" Alex asked.

"DORTMUND ARE THE BEES!" Milo shouted. "YELLOW AND BLACK! I AM INFILTRATING THE HIVE! TO STEAL THE ROYAL JELLY!"

"It is a football team, Milo. Not an insect colony."

"SAME THING!" Milo yelled, flapping his wire wings. "THEY SWARM!"

They drove to the airport.

Mark was sitting in the back seat. He was wearing a hard hat and a high-visibility vest.

"Why are you a construction worker?" Alex asked.

"The Yellow Wall," Mark said seriously. "I am here to demolish it. I brought a sledgehammer."

"Is it a real sledgehammer?"

"It is foam," Mark admitted. "But it looks heavy. Intimidation is key."

Germany. Dortmund.

The atmosphere was heavy. The air smelled of bratwurst and beer.

The Signal Iduna Park was terrifying. One end of the stadium was a solid wall of standing fans. Twenty-five thousand people screaming, jumping, and waving giant flags.

It looked like a tsunami of yellow.

Steve, the manager, stood in the dressing room.

"Listen," Steve said. "You hear that noise?"

The walls were vibrating. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"That is their heartbeat," Steve said. "They want to scare you. They want you to panic."

He looked at Jude.

Jude Bellingham. He used to play here. He was a hero in Dortmund.

"Jude," Steve said. "You know them."

"They are passionate," Jude said. "They play heavy metal football. Fast. Direct. Emotional."

"Exactly," Steve nodded. "Emotion is unstable. If they are happy, they are unstoppable. If they are sad, they collapse."

He looked at Alex.

"Professor. Turn off the music. Make them sad."

"I will pull the plug," Alex promised.

They walked out of the tunnel.

The noise was physical. It hit them in the chest.

The Dortmund players were wearing yellow. They looked fast. Adeyemi. Brandt. Reus.

Adeyemi, the Dortmund winger, looked at Mark.

"I hear you are fast," Adeyemi said.

"I am the speed of light," Mark replied.

"Light has no mass," Adeyemi said. "I am a bullet. I have impact."

"I am a laser!" Mark argued. "Lasers burn things!"

The whistle blew.

The game started.

Dortmund did not wait. They attacked immediately.

They fed off the energy of the Wall.

Brandt passed to Reus. Reus flicked it to Adeyemi.

Adeyemi sprinted.

Mark chased him.

It was the Olympics. Two of the fastest players in the world.

Adeyemi pushed the ball past Ben White. He was through.

He shot.

Ramsdale saved it.

But the rebound fell to Fullkrug, the striker.

Fullkrug was big. He smashed the ball into the net.

Goal.

One zero. Dortmund.

The Yellow Wall exploded. Beer flew into the air. The noise was so loud Alex felt his ears pop.

"They are too loud!" Mark yelled, covering his ears. "I cannot focus! My inner ear balance is compromised!"

Alex stood in the center circle.

He looked at the crowd. They were bouncing.

Chaos.

He needed structure.

"Photosynthesis," Alex whispered. "Take the energy. Turn it into fuel."

Arsenal restarted.

Alex stopped running. He started walking.

He got the ball. Dortmund players rushed at him like angry wasps.

Alex passed it backward.

The crowd booed.

He got it back. He passed it sideways.

The crowd whistled.

He was boring them. He was taking the sting out of the game.

"Tempo," Alex told the team. "Slow down."

Thirty minutes passed. The Dortmund players were getting frustrated. They wanted to run. Alex was making them jog.

Forty fifth minute.

Dortmund lost concentration. They pressed too high.

Alex saw the gap.

He saw Jude making a run.

Jude knew this pitch. He knew every blade of grass.

Alex hit a pass.

It was a "Through Ball". It cut the defense in half.

Jude controlled it. He was in the box.

The Dortmund fans went silent. They knew what was coming.

Jude did not smash it. He placed it.

Goal.

One one.

Jude did not celebrate. He put his hands up. Respect for his old club.

But Mark celebrated. Mark ran to the Yellow Wall and started miming hitting it with a hammer.

"CRUMBLE!" Mark yelled. "I AM THE DEMOLITION MAN!"

Halftime. One one.

"Good," Steve said. "They are quiet now. The emotion is gone. Now, we use logic."

He looked at Mark.

"Speed. Adeyemi thinks he is faster than you. Show him he is wrong."

"He is a tortoise," Mark scoffed. "A tortoise with a turbocharger. But still a tortoise."

Second half.

The rain started to fall. German rain. Cold and sharp.

Dortmund attacked again. They tried to wake up the crowd.

But Arsenal was organized. Saliba and Gabriel were rocks.

Seventy fifth minute.

The game was tied.

Alex had the ball deep.

He saw Adeyemi pressing high.

Alex waited. He invited the pressure.

He faked a pass to the left. Adeyemi jumped left.

Alex spun right.

He looked up.

Mark was on the halfway line.

"GO!" Alex shouted.

He launched the ball. A long, high ball over the top.

Mark turned.

He ignited the engines.

He ran past Hummels. Hummels was old. He waved goodbye as Mark flew past.

Mark was one on one with the goalkeeper, Kobel.

Mark had time.

He thought about the biology lesson.

Glucose. Fuel.

He needed to be efficient.

He did not smash it. He did not chip it.

He went round the keeper.

He rolled the ball into the empty net.

Goal.

Two one. Arsenal.

Mark ran to the corner. He flapped his arms like wings.

"I AM THE BEE!" Mark screamed. "STING! STING!"

Alex ran over. "I thought you were a construction worker?"

"I MULTI-TASK!" Mark yelled. "I AM A BUILDING BEE!"

The last ten minutes were tense.

Dortmund threw everything forward. The Yellow Wall screamed.

But Arsenal held on. They absorbed the light. They grew strong.

The final whistle blew.

Arsenal 2. Borussia Dortmund 1.

Three points.

Alex walked off the pitch. He swapped shirts with Reus.

"You play like an old man," Reus said, smiling. "But in a good way. You are calm."

"Panic is inefficient," Alex said.

Milo ran onto the pitch. He was covered in sticky golden liquid.

"THE HONEY POT!" Milo shouted. "WE GOT THE GOODS! ALEX! I AM SELLING JARRED VICTORY! IT TASTES LIKE SUGAR AND SWEAT! MOSTLY SUGAR!"

"Milo, please tell me that is actually honey," Alex said.

"IT IS SYRUP!" Milo winked. "BUT DO NOT TELL THE GERMANS!"

Alex walked into the dressing room.

The team was happy. But it was a quiet happiness.

They were getting used to winning.

Alex sat down. He checked his phone.

A text from Maya.

"Photosynthesis complete. You converted 60% possession into 2 goals. Efficiency high. By the way, the England squad announcement is on Friday. I have calculated the probability of you being called up."

"And?" Alex texted back.

"99.9%," Maya replied. "The 0.1% is if you get eaten by a bear."

Alex laughed.

He looked at Mark.

Mark was eating a pretzel he found in his bag.

"Hey Professor," Mark said with his mouth full. "Do you think they have pretzels in Qatar?"

"I think so, Mark."

"Good," Mark said. "Because I need carbs for the World Cup. I am going to run the whole desert."

"It is sand, Mark. It is hard to run on sand."

"I will wear snowshoes!" Mark declared. "Sand shoes! I will invent them!"

Alex shook his head.

Friday.

The squad announcement.

The World Cup.

The biggest stage of all.

Alex closed his eyes.

He could hear the music in his head. Not the Champions League anthem.

The World Cup drums.

He was ready.

The Dynasty was going to the desert.

And the Professor was ready to teach the world a lesson.