Striker of The Gods

Tuesday, 16 January 2034 : 20:45 CET

Allianz Arena, Munich

Caos was more than ready to crush them again.

Munich was cold that night.

The Allianz Arena was not.

Seventy-five thousand Bayern supporters filled the stadium with red.

Flags moved through the stands.

Scarves rose into the air.

The chants came down like artillery.

Bayern Munich had remembered the previous humiliations.

They had studied the footage.

They had studied Caos.

His movements.His acceleration.

One instant to get the glory.

His finishing.

The way he disappeared between defenders.The way he seemed to know where the ball would arrive before anyone else.

They had prepared for everything they believed they could prepare for.

And tonight, they wanted revenge.

The banners in the stands said enough.

THIS IS OUR HOUSE.

NO GODS IN MUNICH.

MAKE THE STORM BLEED.

Caos stood inside the tunnel.

Quiet.

Still.

Almost detached from the noise.

Behind him, Mbappé looked toward the pitch.

“Bayern will come with everything.”

Caos adjusted his shirt.

“They should.”

Mbappé smiled.

“They’re angry.”

Caos looked forward.

“Good.”

Xabi Alonso approached from the other side.

He placed a hand on Caos’s shoulder.

“This is pride.”

Caos looked at him.

“Show them the new you.”

A pause.

“Honor the memory.”

Xabi’s voice lowered.

“But don’t let the past blind you.”

Caos nodded.

“I won’t.”

Before Kickoff

The world had been waiting for this match.

#BayernVsCaos had reached the top of the global trends.

Millions of posts appeared in the hours before kickoff.

Everyone was talking about the same thing.

Caos’s recent training.

The forest.The impossible speeds.

Caos had measured their defeat earlier on 

The 500 mph bursts.

The 350,000-newton strikes.

The videos were grainy.

Some people thought they were fake.

Others stopped arguing after seeing the trees in the background.

One caption spread everywhere:

He trained like a god among dinosaurs. Bayern is about to feel prehistory.

Inside the Bayern dressing room, Harry Kane looked around at his teammates.

“We studied everything.”

Nobody spoke.

“We know what he is.”

Kane stood.

“But this is our house.”

His eyes hardened.

“Tonight, we make him feel the fight.”

Jamal Musiala nodded.

“He’s from another planet.”

A small smile.

“But football is still eleven against eleven.”

He looked around the room.

“We can make it difficult.”

That was the belief.

They didn’t need to defeat mythology.

They only needed to stop one man.

High above the pitch, the three maids watched from their private box.

Black and violet.

Zeraphina looked down at the players.

“Bayern wants war.”

Keyla smiled.

“After the Triassic, they have no idea what’s coming.”

Michaela remained quiet.

She was watching Caos.

Not the cameras.Not the crowd.

But something completely different.

Him.

She had seen the changes.

The rewiring.The Absolute Dominion.

In doing so, he will become legendary for he knew what he wanted to do with it

The conversations with Erebus.

The way he carried his mother’s memory now.

The way his father’s final letter had changed something inside him.

The way the unborn child had become part of his future rather than simply another reason to win.

The whistle was seconds away.

The Match

The stadium exploded.

The referee raised his whistle.

And—

kickoff.

Bayern attacked immediately.

No hesitation.

Kane dropped deep.

Musiala drifted between the lines.

The midfield pressed aggressively.

Every time Caos touched the ball, two red shirts appeared.

Sometimes three.

Bayern had decided that if Caos wanted space—

he would have to create it himself.

For the first ten minutes, it worked.

Then fifteen.Then twenty.

Caos dominated the match with strength. He was far greater than ever.

The stadium grew louder.

Kane nearly opened the scoring after a rapid counterattack.

His shot went just wide.

Musiala followed with another dangerous run.

The Bayern supporters rose.

For twenty-two minutes, Bayern made the match feel human.

Physical.

Tactical.

Difficult.

Caos watched.

He learned.

Then he looked toward the sky.

His mother’s memory passed through him.

Not pain.

Direction.

The Chaos Heart awakened.

Violet energy moved through his body.

Caos received the ball inside his own half.

One Bayern player approached.

Then another.

Then another.

again and over again

Caos accelerated.

500 mph.

The pitch became a blur.The defenders turned.

Too late.

The movement came almost immediately.

Triassic Vortex.

A 1080° aerial rotation.

Caos twisted through the defensive line with the violence of some prehistoric creature tearing through a herd.

One defender fell.

Then another.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

The ball remained with him.

He landed.

One touch.

He looked up.

72 meters.

He struck.

The sound was enormous.

350,000 newtons.

The ball accelerated toward the goal at 812 km/h.

The goalkeeper moved.

The net moved first.

1–0.

The Allianz Arena went silent.

Then the commentator’s voice cut through the silence:

“Caos has broken the deadlock! Bayern held him for twenty-two minutes, but once he found the space, there was simply no stopping that attack! Triassic Vortex—and then that strike from distance! Munich has just witnessed something extraordinary!”

Caos turned toward the sky.

One finger.

His mother.

Then he lowered his hand.

The match restarted.

Bayern looked shaken.

But they attacked again.

That was Bayern.

They didn’t disappear because they conceded.

They came forward.

And that gave Caos another opportunity.

28th Minute

Bayern launched a counter.

Kane received the ball.

Musiala sprinted into space.

The attack looked dangerous.

Then Caos appeared.

He intercepted.

One touch.

Silence.

He drove forward.

Plateo Crush.

His foot struck the ground with such force that the immediate impact disrupted Bayern’s defensive shape.

Three players lost balance.

Caos continued.

He entered the area.

Stopped.

Jumped.

A standing 720° backflip.

The ball rose above him.

Caos twisted.

Connected.

A volley from 51 meters.

The ball screamed into the upper corner.

2–0.

The commentator shouted:

“Two! Caos again! Bayern were building something, and in seconds he has turned their attack into another Real Madrid goal! That is the difference tonight—the smallest mistake becomes an opening, and Caos needs only one!”

The Bayern crowd booed.

Not their players.

Him.

Caos simply walked back toward halfway.

The next twenty minutes became a storm.

Bayern tried to slow him.

They couldn’t.

They tried to press him.

He escaped.

They tried to mark him.

He moved before they could.

They tried to attack.

Real Madrid punished the spaces left behind.

By halftime—

the scoreboard read:

BAYERN MUNICH 0–8 REAL MADRID

Caos had scored six.

He had created two assists.

The Allianz Arena had gone from fury to disbelief.

Yet Kane continued speaking to his teammates.

“Keep playing.”

Musiala nodded.

Nobody left the field with their heads down.

They were losing.

But Bayern were still Bayern.

The Second Half

Caos returned to the pitch.

The stadium was still full.

Nobody had left.

They wanted to see what happened next.

The answer came quickly.

9–0

A precise assist.

Herrera Snap.

Caos threaded the ball through three defenders into the path of Mbappé.

Finish.

10–0

Caos recovered the ball.

He entered the box.

Three defenders surrounded him.

He accelerated.

The Rauisuchian Fury erupted.

Raw power.

One shoulder movement.

Two defenders lost their balance.

Caos finished.

11–0

The Bayern defense collapsed inward.

Caos saw the space.

Sauropod Stomp.

The impact disrupted the defensive line.

The ball came loose.

Caos struck.

12–0

Another run.

Another impossible finish.

The commentator’s voice became almost disbelieving.

“Twelve. Twelve goals. Bayern Munich have tried everything—pressing, marking, dropping deep, attacking, defending—and Caos continues to find another answer.”

Then Bayern finally found one.

A counter.

Kane fought through the defense.

The ball reached the box.

A finish.

12–1.

The Allianz Arena erupted.

Not because the match was close.

It wasn’t.

Because Bayern had refused to disappear.

Kane turned toward the supporters.

Raised his arms.

The stadium answered.

For a few seconds, Munich sounded alive again.

Caos watched from midfield.

He smiled.

Not mockingly.

Respectfully.

Then the whistle for the restart came.

13–1

Caos received the ball near the halfway line.

He accelerated.

500 mph.

The entire pitch disappeared behind him.

He reached the final third.

A defender stepped forward.

Caos lifted the ball.

Then jumped.

The body turned.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice. 

Look at the sky.

The chilena came.

55 feet in the air.

The ball exploded toward the goal.

13–1.

The commentator could only shout:

“Oh, unbelievable! Caos from the air again! That is not merely a finish, it is another impossible chapter in a match that has already gone beyond reason!”

The final minutes became relentless.

Two more goals.

One created.

One scored.

The final whistle eventually came.

FINAL SCORE

BAYERN MUNICH 1–17 REAL MADRID

Caos:

13 goals.

4 assists.

He stood alone at the center circle.

The stadium had become strangely quiet.

Caos raised one finger toward the sky.

His mother.

Then he pressed his fist against his chest.

His father.

The commentator’s voice softened.

“Thirteen goals tonight. Four assists. Another extraordinary performance from Caos. But even after everything we have seen, there is still something human in that celebration. A memory above him. Another carried within him.”

Caos lowered his hands.

The moment was over.

The storm remained.

Man of the Match

The announcement appeared across the stadium.

Caos — Man of the Match.

His 26th consecutive in all competitions.

Another number.

Another record.

Another night that seemed impossible until he lived it.

The Private Exit

The three maids waited near the tunnel.

Zeraphina looked at him.

“Thirteen goals.”

Caos smiled faintly.

“I know.”

“The world is already calling it the most dominant performance in modern football history.”

Caos looked toward the empty stadium.

Then toward the sky.

“It was for her.”

Zeraphina understood.

His mother.

Caos placed his fist against his chest.

“And for the child.”

He paused.

“The child who will soon enter this world carrying both royal blood…”

His eyes glowed violet.

“…and chaos.”

Keyla smiled.

Michaela looked at him quietly.

Caos turned toward the tunnel.

The lights of the Allianz Arena stretched behind him.

Bayern had fought.

They had pressed.

They had attacked.

They had scored.

They had refused to surrender completely.

But the storm had been stronger.

The fifth Champions League thunder had passed over Munich.

And once again, Caos walked away without an opponent capable of following him into the darkness.

The problem was becoming obvious.

He was still hungry.

Not for goals.

Not for records.

Not even for victory.

He wanted something that could finally make him struggle.

Something that could force him to become more than what he was.

Something that could look into the violet storm

and survive long enough to fight back.

Caos disappeared into the tunnel.

Behind him, seventy-five thousand people remained staring at the scoreboard.

Bayern Munich 1–17 Real Madrid.

And above the stadium, the Munich night remained cold.

But the violet light had already moved on.

To be continued…