CHAPTER 491: 1

The night before the World Cup Final was silent.

It was not a peaceful silence. It was a heavy silence. The kind of silence that happens before a thunderstorm.

Alex sat on the floor of his hotel room. He was building a tower out of plastic cups.

Mark sat opposite him. Mark was wearing a bathrobe and sunglasses. He was eating a churro.

"Stop shaking the floor," Alex said. "My tower is unstable."

"I am not shaking," Mark said with his mouth full. "I am vibrating. It is the energy of the universe flowing through me. Or maybe the sugar."

Alex placed the final cup on top of the tower. It stood for one second. Then it fell.

"Entropy," Alex sighed. "Everything falls."

"Not us," Mark said. "We float. We are buoyant."

Mark offered Alex a churro.

"Eat," Mark said. "It is fried dough. It is happiness."

"I cannot eat," Alex said. "Tomorrow I play against Lionel Messi."

Mark stopped chewing. He lowered his sunglasses.

"The Alien," Mark whispered. "The Goat. The Flea."

"He is the best player in history," Alex said. "He sees things nobody else sees. He plays in the future."

"Then you must play in the future too," Mark said. "Go further into the future. If he is in Tuesday, you must be in Wednesday."

"That makes no sense, Mark."

"It makes perfect sense to an Emperor," Mark said, dipping the churro in chocolate.

Alex phone buzzed.

It was Maya.

"Video call," Alex said. "She wants to give me the data."

He answered. Maya appeared on the screen. She looked tired. There were piles of paper behind her.

"I have run the simulation," Maya said. Her voice was flat.

"And?" Alex asked.

"Lionel Messi," Maya said. "He breaks the model. His center of gravity is too low. His acceleration is non linear. His vision is statistically impossible. The probability of stopping him one on one is 0.004 percent."

"So he is unstoppable," Alex said.

"Individually, yes," Maya said. "But he is thirty five years old. He walks for eighty percent of the game. He saves his energy for moments. Explosions."

"So we stop the explosions," Alex said.

"You have to cut the fuse," Maya nodded. "De Paul. Fernandez. Mac Allister. They are the fuse. They give him the ball. Stop them, and you stop the supply."

"Isolate the King," Alex whispered.

"Good luck, Professor," Maya said. "The world is watching. Do not trip."

Sunday. The Lusail Stadium.

It was a golden bowl in the middle of the desert. Eighty thousand seats.

The sun was setting. The sky was purple and orange.

The bus ride was quiet.

Harry Kane looked out the window. He was listening to music. His eyes were closed.

Jude Bellingham was tapping his foot.

Alex looked at his hands. They were shaking a little bit.

"Nervous?" Jude asked.

"Terrified," Alex admitted.

"Good," Jude grinned. "Fear is fuel. Burn it."

They arrived at the stadium.

The noise was already loud. The Argentina fans had been there for hours. They were singing the song. Muchachos. It was a hymn. It was a prayer.

Alex walked towards the entrance.

Milo was waiting.

Milo was wearing a full silver bodysuit. He looked like a robot or an alien wrapped in tin foil. He had green face paint on.

"I COME IN PEACE!" Milo screamed. "TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER! ALEX! I AM THE ALIEN TRADER! I AM SELLING KRYPTONITE! IT IS THE ONLY THING THAT STOPS SUPERMAN! IT IS JUST GREEN ROCK CANDY! BUT IT IS TASTY!"

"Milo, you are shining," Alex laughed. "You are reflecting the sun."

"I AM A BEACON OF HOPE!" Milo yelled. "BEAT THE ALIENS! SAVE THE EARTH!"

Security guards were trying to catch Milo, but his silver suit was slippery. He slid away like a fish.

Alex walked into the dressing room.

Gareth Southgate stood in the middle.

"This is it," Gareth said. "The final exam."

He looked at the shirts hanging up. The white England shirts.

"They have the best player," Gareth said. "But we have the best team. Messi is one man. You are eleven lions. Do not let him breathe. Do not let him turn. And when you have the ball... play."

He looked at Alex.

"Professor. Messi walks. You run. Make him chase you."

"I will run until my legs fall off," Alex said.

The Tunnel.

This was the moment.

The England team stood on the left. The Argentina team stood on the right.

And there he was.

Lionel Messi.

He was short. He had a beard. He looked like a normal man.

But the aura around him was heavy. The other Argentina players looked at him like he was a god. They were ready to die for him.

Messi looked straight ahead. He was focused.

Alex stood next to Enzo Fernandez.

"Buena suerte," Enzo whispered. "Good luck."

"You too," Alex said.

The referee picked up the ball.

They walked out.

The Lusail Stadium exploded. Blue and White flags everywhere. St George Crosses everywhere.

Fireworks went off.

The World Cup trophy sat on a podium. It shone under the lights.

Alex looked at it. It was gold. It was beautiful.

"Focus," Alex told himself. "It is just geometry. It is just physics."

The anthems played. God Save the King.

Then the whistle blew.

The World Cup Final began.

It was intense.

Argentina started fast. They were aggressive. De Paul was everywhere. He was like a pitbull.

In the tenth minute, Messi got the ball.

The stadium held its breath.

Alex ran to close him down.

Messi did not run. He dropped his shoulder.

It was a tiny movement. But Alex reacted. He moved left.

Messi went right.

He was gone.

Messi drove at the defense. Harry Maguire stepped up.

Messi slid a pass through Maguire legs.

Alvarez was running.

Alvarez shot.

Pickford made a save.

"He is fast!" Alex shouted. "He is faster than the video!"

"He is a ghost!" Jude yelled. "I tried to tackle him and he vanished!"

Twenty minutes.

Argentina controlled the game. England could not keep the ball.

Di Maria got the ball on the left. He tricked Kyle Walker.

He crossed it.

Messi was there.

He did not head it. He controlled it with his chest.

The ball dropped.

Messi volleyed it.

Goal.

One zero. Argentina.

The stadium erupted. It sounded like the world was ending. Messi ran to the corner. The Argentina players piled on top of him.

Alex stood in the center circle.

One zero down in the World Cup Final.

"Calm down!" Alex shouted to his team. "It is one variable! We change the equation!"

England restarted.

Alex demanded the ball.

"Give it to me!" Alex yelled.

He got the ball from Rice.

De Paul came running to kill him.

Alex did not panic. He used De Paul momentum.

Alex spun. The "Marseille Turn".

He left De Paul on the floor.

Alex drove forward.

He saw Messi walking. Messi was watching him.

"You walk, I run," Alex thought.

Alex ran past Messi.

He was in the Argentina half.

He saw Saka on the wing.

Alex hit a long pass.

Saka controlled it. He beat Acuna.

Saka crossed.

Harry Kane jumped. He headed it.

Martinez, the Argentina goalkeeper, made a save.

But England were alive.

Halftime. One zero.

"We are still in this," Gareth Southgate said. "They are emotional. If we score, they will panic. They are desperate to win for Messi. Use that pressure against them."

Second half.

England pushed up.

Alex controlled the midfield. He was the metronome. Tick. Tock.

He moved the ball away from the Argentina pressure.

Sixty fifth minute.

Alex got the ball.

He saw Jude Bellingham making a run. The Power Run.

Alex passed.

Jude drove into the box.

Otamendi tackled him. It was clumsy.

Penalty!

The referee pointed to the spot.

Harry Kane picked up the ball.

He had missed a penalty against France (in real life he missed, in this story he scored the first but missed the second in normal time, then Alex saved them. Wait, let us stick to the narrative that he is the best penalty taker).

Harry Kane placed the ball.

He faced Martinez. The master of mind games.

Martinez danced. He threw the ball away.

Harry Kane did not look.

He ran up.

Smash.

Top corner.

Goal.

One one.

The game was tied.

Argentina panicked. They started to argue.

"Now!" Alex shouted. "Press them!"

Eighty fifth minute.

Five minutes left.

The game was stretched.

Messi got the ball. He was tired.

He tried to dribble past Alex.

Alex watched the ball, not the man.

Alex stuck his foot in. He won the ball.

Clean tackle.

Alex looked up.

The Argentina defense was high.

Phil Foden was running.

Alex hit the "Through Ball".

Foden ran. He was fast.

He was one on one with Martinez.

Foden shot.

Martinez saved it with his foot!

The rebound came out.

Alex was running. He had followed his pass.

He was on the edge of the box.

The ball was bouncing towards him.

"Hit it!" Jude screamed.

Alex adjusted his body.

He leaned over the ball.

He hit it on the volley.

It was a sweet connection.

The ball flew low. It went through a forest of legs.

It hit the post.

Thud.

It rolled across the line.

And went in.

GOAL.

Two one. England.

Eighty seventh minute.

Alex ran to the corner. He did not know what to do. He just screamed.

The England bench emptied. Everyone ran onto the pitch.

"THE PROFESSOR!" Mark screamed from the stands (he was wearing a beret and eating popcorn). "HE DID IT!"

But the game was not over.

Argentina threw everything forward.

Messi was angry.

Ninetieth minute.

Seven minutes of injury time.

Argentina corner.

Messi took it.

He crossed it.

Romero headed it.

Pickford saved it.

The ball scrambled in the box.

Montiel shot.

It hit Alex hand.

The referee blew the whistle.

Penalty to Argentina.

Ninty fourth minute.

The stadium went silent.

Alex fell to his knees. He had given away a penalty in the World Cup Final.

"It was an accident," Alex whispered. "My hand was by my side."

The referee did not care. VAR did not care.

Messi picked up the ball.

He placed it on the spot.

He looked at Pickford.

Messi ran up.

He rolled it into the corner.

Goal.

Two two.

The Argentina fans cried with joy.

Alex put his head in his hands.

"I ruined it," Alex thought. "I broke the equation."

Harry Kane pulled him up.

"Head up," Harry said. "We go to Extra Time. We fight."

Extra Time.

The players were dead on their feet.

It was slower now. Walking football.

105 minutes.

110 minutes.

115 minutes.

Nothing happened. Both teams were too scared to lose.

119th minute.

One minute left before penalties.

Alex had the ball.

He looked at his legs. They were shaking.

He looked at the clock.

"One last calculation," Alex whispered.

He saw Mark in the stands. Mark was standing on his chair. He was pointing forward.

Alex started to run.

He ran past Fernandez. He ran past Mac Allister.

He was in the Argentina half.

He saw Bukayo Saka on the right.

Alex passed.

Saka cut inside.

Alex continued his run into the box.

Saka crossed the ball.

It was high.

Alex was not tall. Otamendi was tall.

But Alex had momentum.

He jumped.

He did not try to head it down.

He twisted his neck. He glanced it.

The ball floated. It went over Martinez head.

It looked like it was going wide.

But it hit the inside of the post.

And it spun in.

GOAL.

Three two.

120th minute.

Alex landed on the grass.

He did not get up.

He just lay there and listened to the roar.

The referee blew the whistle.

Peep. Peep. PEEEEEEEP.

It was over.

England were World Champions.

Alex started to cry.

Jude Bellingham fell next to him.

"You crazy Professor," Jude sobbed. "You headed it. You never head it."

"The geometry was right," Alex cried.

They stood up.

Lionel Messi walked past. The greatest player ever. He looked broken.

But he stopped.

He patted Alex on the head.

"Felicidades," Messi said. "You played like a giant."

Alex watched him go.

Then the team grabbed Alex.

They threw him in the air.

"CHAMPIONS! CHAMPIONS!"

Milo ran onto the pitch.

He was wearing a gold crown and a royal cape made of England flags.

"THE KING OF THE WORLD!" Milo screamed. "WE DID IT! ALEX! I AM SELLING PIECES OF THE SULTAN PALACE! I STOLE A BRICK! IT IS GOLD!"

"Milo, put the brick back," Alex laughed.

Mark ran onto the pitch. He was wearing his France shirt but he had an England scarf.

"PROFESSOR!" Mark yelled. "YOU ARE THE GOAT! I AM JUST A LAMB! A FAST LAMB!"

Mark hugged him.

"You won the World Cup," Mark said. "Can we go to Disneyland now?"

"Yes," Alex said. "We can go anywhere."

They walked to the podium.

The trophy was there.

Harry Kane called Alex.

"Together," Harry said.

They grabbed the gold trophy.

It was heavy. It was warm.

They lifted it.

Fireworks filled the sky.

Alex looked at the gold confetti falling like rain.

He thought about the school pitch. He thought about the physics class. He thought about the frog dissection.

He was Alex Finch.

He was the Professor.

He was the World Champion.

The Dynasty was complete.

But as he looked at Mark, stealing a piece of confetti to eat, Alex knew one thing.

This was not the end.

It was just the end of the first semester.

And the Professor loved school.

"Next season," Alex whispered to the trophy. "We go again."

He kissed the gold.

It tasted like victory.

And maybe, just a little bit, like churros.

The End.