Leon's phone was buzzing, a constant symphony of notifications.

He'd just finished a grueling training session. He opened his Facelook account, which he'd mostly forgotten about since creating it a few days ago.

His jaw dropped. Followers: 500K.

Five hundred thousand! He hadn't even posted anything beyond his profile picture in his Villa kit! And then he remembered Byon's teasing about his 800K followers.

Leon had just assumed Byon was a social media wizard, constantly posting.

"How in the world…?" Leon mumbled to himself, scrolling through the comments. Most were positive, gushing about his recent performances, especially the Chelsea game.

"Fischer is pure magic!" "Villa's future captain right here!" "Best midfielder in the league already!"

A wave of astonishment, then quiet satisfaction washed over him. This was a new level of fame.

He quickly scrolled through some of Byon's (Current: 85) posts. Byon was indeed a master, with witty captions, behind-the-scenes glimpses, and even short videos of his dazzling dribbles.

Leon decided to give it a try. He found a few cool photos from recent training sessions – one of him making a pinpoint pass, another of him laughing with Ollie Watkins (Current: 86), and a candid shot of him and Alex Turner (Current: 81) stretching after a tough session.

He added a simple caption: "Work hard, play harder. Great sessions with the team."

He posted them, then put his phone down, slightly embarrassed by the sudden foray into social media. He figured they'd get a few thousand likes, maybe some comments.

He headed to the academy gym for his individual strength session.

The atmosphere in the gym was always intense, a mix of weights clanking and motivational music.

He saw John McGinn (Current: 84) and Douglas Luiz (Current: 85) already hard at work.

After an hour of lifting, Leon checked his phone, wiping sweat from his brow.

His Facelook app icon had a ridiculous number of notifications. He opened it.

The pictures he'd posted just hours ago had already garnered hundreds of thousands of likes. Comments were flooding in:

"First posts and already fire! Legend!"

"Love seeing the team behind the scenes, Leo!" "Fischer and Turner, the future is bright!"

His follower count had jumped again: 850K.

Leon stared, bewildered. Eight hundred and fifty thousand! Just from a few pictures!

This social media thing was wild.

He felt a faint blush, but also a growing understanding of the platform's power. It was another way to connect with fans, to build his brand. Byon was right. This was a different game altogether.

Just then, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. It was Coach Davies, their training coach at the academy.

"Leon," Coach Davies's voice was firm. "I saw your Facelook posts. Good.

But don't forget your extra gym session today. And then, check the fixture list. You'll want to see who we're playing next."

Leon's heart leaped. He'd almost forgotten about the next match in the excitement of social media.

He quickly logged into the team portal. His eyes scanned the schedule, then froze.

Next Match: Premier League - Aston Villa vs. Arsenal.

Arsenal. The league leaders. The team sitting at the very top of the Premier League table.

And now, they had Mark Johnson (Current: 71), the player Leon had helped, the one with Potential: 92, in their ranks. This was huge.

He quickly called Byon. "You're not going to believe who we're playing next, mate."

"Oh yeah?" Byon's voice (Current: 85) was cheerful. "Who? Another walkover?"

"Arsenal," Leon said, a serious note in his voice. "At home. The league leaders. And Mark Johnson."

There was a stunned silence from Byon's end.

"Arsenal?! Whoa! And Mark's there now! This is going to be epic! My £48 million is ready for battle!" He paused. "And hey, Leon, you might want to check Arsenal's team sheet. Heard Mark's been flying in training. Wouldn't be surprised if he's on the bench."

"I'll be ready," Leon confirmed. "Listen, I'm heading to the gym for extra work. Want to come? You too, Alex." He looked at Alex (Current: 81), who had just walked into his room.

"Absolutely," Alex said, his eyes gleaming. He was constantly eager for extra training, hungry to prove himself.

As they headed to the gym, Leon felt a pang of curiosity. He'd never really thought about it before, but with all the talk of 'Current' ratings and physical development, he wondered about their actual height.

"Hey, Alex," Leon asked, as they walked past a full-length mirror. "How tall are you, exactly?"

Alex paused, adjusting his stance. "About 181 centimeters, I think. Why?"

"Just wondering," Leon mused. He knew he was slightly shorter than Alex. "I'm 179 centimeters. We're pretty close."

He then called Byon back. "Hey, quick question, what's your height?"

Byon laughed. "Why? You trying to figure out who's the tallest wonderkid now, Leo? I'm 177 centimeters. Why?"

"No reason," Leon said quickly. "Just curious." He hung up, a small smile on his face. He was 179cm, Alex was 181cm, and Byon was 177cm. Not that it mattered for their game, but it was another detail in the grand tapestry of their evolving lives.

They trained for hours, pushing their limits, fueled by the upcoming challenge against Arsenal. Leon imagined himself facing Mark in midfield, his 'sight' predicting Mark's powerful runs and shots. It would be a strange, exciting encounter.

That evening, as Leon went to bed, a news headline flashed across his tablet.

BREAKING: REAL MADRID TO FACE BARCELONA IN CHAMPIONS LEAGUE QUARTER-FINAL!

Leon stared at the screen. Real Madrid. Barcelona. And his nemesis, Emre Demir (Current: 86), would be part of that.

The football world was truly a global stage, and he was right in the middle of it. The thought sent a jolt of pure energy through him. He was ready for Arsenal.