After the highly anticipated La Liga El Clásico concluded, the shockwaves traveled far beyond the borders of Spain. In Argentina, the impact was nothing short of a cultural earthquake.
While the world celebrated the birth of the "LMN" trio, the digital landscape in Buenos Aires was a battlefield. In the early morning hours, as workers sipped their first mate of the day, a flurry of push notifications from every major sports platform, Olé, TyC Sports, and Fox Sports Sur dominated their screens.
In an era dominated by the binary rivalry of Messi and Ronaldo, the popularity of the Super Derby was already at an all-time high. But today, the headlines didn't belong to the legends. They belonged to the seventeen-year-old who had been cast out of Ezeiza only weeks prior.
Lorenzo's goal highlights, edited into high-octane short videos with aggressive South American trap music, went viral instantly.
[Lorenzo? The 'Ezeiza Thug' that Coordinator Marcos banned? He's actually this strong?? I thought the AFA said he was a distraction with no technique!]
[The AFA's brains are officially rotted. They banned the only kid in the world who didn't got swept up by Sergio Ramos and score a brace against Casillas! Meanwhile, our National Youth Team just got swept in the qualifiers. How can we have a future?]
[What is the value of an El Clásico? To score two on your debut at the Bernabéu is a certificate of superstardom. The AFA basically threw a winning lottery ticket into the trash.]
[Why are we praising him? He's wearing a Barcelona shirt and playing for Spain U-21. If he had any love for his father's flag, he'd come back.]
[Shut up, idiot. He tried to come back. The Federation spit on him to protect a Coordinator's spoiled son. He has every right to choose the Red Shirt now.]
[If the AFA acts like humans, they should quickly beg Lorenzo to return. Especially Marcos and his son Facundo. Those two scourges are the reason we're losing our best talent!]
In a high-end villa on the outskirts of Buenos Aires, the atmosphere was far from celebratory.
Marcos, the High-Performance Coordinator whose position was recently called into question due to the Youth Team's failures, sat gloomily scrolling through his phone. Every scroll revealed more praise for the boy he had tried to bury.
"They're all f*cking crazy!" Marcos roared, slamming his phone onto the mahogany table. "A kid who assaulted us is being praised like a saint! Was the beating we took for nothing? Where is the loyalty to the institution?"
Facundo walked out of his room, looking pale and depressed. He had been staying home since the video of his "studs-up" tackle went viral alongside Lorenzo's goals. The contrast in their skill levels was now a matter of public record.
"Dad... I want to go to Europe too," Facundo said, his voice trembling. "If Lorenzo can get into Barça and silence the Bernabéu, why can't I join a giant club? Call your contacts at Madrid. Tell them I'm ready for the academy."
Marcos's eyes widened, astonished by his son's lack of self-awareness. "Real Madrid? Real Madrid my foot! Do you think the scouts there take bribes like the local club presidents? If you go there and get humiliated, it will ruin my career forever. You stay here in Argentina. When I climb to the board of directors, I'll ensure you have a spot in the senior National Team. That's a lifetime of comfort, regardless of your feet."
Marcos popped a heart pill and sighed. "Also, son... stay inside. The fans are looking for our address."
At the same time, the focus of the European football world shifted to Israel. The pivotal match of the UEFA European Under-21 Championship had arrived: Spain U-21 vs. France U-21.
The tournament was hailed as the definitive gathering place for future Ballon d'Or contenders. Since its reform, its prestige had eclipsed the U-20 World Cup, as nations were now sending their first-tier professional talents to compete.
Spain's squad was essentially a "Super Team." From De Gea in goal to Lorenzo leading the line, eighty percent of the talent came from the two giants - Real Madrid and Barcelona.
"Julen! I'm only 'lending' Lorenzo to you for the weekend!" Tata Martino joked over the phone with Julen Lopetegui. "The Champions League draw is coming up, and we need the boy back in Barcelona safe and sound."
Lopetegui laughed confidently. "Thank you, Tata. I'll return him with a few French scalps in his belt."
Beside Lopetegui, Vicente del Bosque, the architect of Spain's World Cup win was observing the training session in Jerusalem. "This France squad is a nightmare, Julen. They have Paul Pogba, who is already dominating for Juventus. They have Griezmann at Real Sociedad. And that defense... Varane and Umtiti? That's a wall that even senior teams fear."
Lopetegui shrugged, his gaze fixed on Lorenzo, who was currently practicing long shots that made the net rattle with a violent, Batistuta-like thunder. "That's why I needed him. Our defense might struggle with France's physicality, but Lorenzo is physicality. He is the player we need to break their lines."
Del Bosque raised an eyebrow. "You're really banking on the boy, aren't you? He's seventeen. Don't put the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders yet."
"It's too late, Vicente," Lopetegui said, shaking his head. "Messi and Mascherano are already in his ear about Argentina. If we don't win his heart in this tournament, we lose him to the Albiceleste forever."
On the team plane bound for Tel Aviv, the atmosphere was a mix of youthful arrogance and professional focus.
Koke, the talented Atlético Madrid midfielder, leaned over his seat toward Lorenzo. "Hey, Lorenzo. In the Spanish Super Cup at the end of the month... you have to go easy on us Colchoneros. I don't want to be on the receiving end of one of those cannons."
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. "Super Cup? Us against you?"
Bartra, sitting in front of him, handed over a printed Barcelona schedule. Lorenzo browsed through it, his eyes narrowing as he realized the intensity of the coming months. He had La Liga, the Super Cup against Simeone's Atlético, and the Champions League group stages.
La Liga Golden Boot. Champions League Glory. Copa del Rey. Lorenzo made a silent decision. He wasn't just here to participate; he was here to sweep every trophy in existence.
In France, at the Clairefontaine training base, the conversation was equally centered on one man.
"Did you watch the Bernabéu tape?" Eliaquim Mangala asked. "We're going to face a kid who scored twice on Saint Iker."
Raphaël Varane, the Real Madrid star, shrugged, though his eyes were serious. "I was in the locker room that night. Casillas was dazed. He couldn't believe the power coming off that boy's boot."
Samuel Umtiti leaned in. "Rafael! How are we going to defend against him? Your senior, Ramos, couldn't stop him."
Varane shook his head. "Ramos relied on bullying. You can't bully this one. He's as strong as a bull but moves like a ghost. We have to defend with intelligence, not just force."
Antoine Griezmann walked over, a look of supreme confidence on his face. At this time, he was still the star of Real Sociedad, but he was already being linked with Atlético. "Don't worry about the defense. Spain's backline is soft. Nacho and Bartra? They can't handle me and Lacazette. We will dismantle them with our offense. The 'Spanish Kingdom' ends in Israel."
The following day, the Teddy Stadium in Jerusalem was a sea of Red and Blue.
In the broadcast booth, Santiago and Inés Valdes adjusted their headsets. Millions of Argentinians were tuned in, watching their "lost son" wear the Red Shirt of Spain.
"Welcome to the biennial clash of the titans!" Santiago roared. "Spain U-21 versus France U-21! Today, we witness the future. The iron wall of Varane versus the 'Beast' of Argentina!"
Inés looked at the rosters. "France is luxurious. Pogba, Griezmann, Lacazette... even Mangala is on the bench. It's a squad that many think will become the backbone of a World Cup-winning team."
"But look at Spain's frontline," Santiago pointed out. "Lorenzo and Jesé Rodríguez. It's the birth of a new strike partnership."
The whistle was about to blow.
[Status: U-21 Euros Kickoff.]
[System Note: France U-21 contains 'World Class' templates. Opportunity to earn high-tier rewards.]
For Advance/Early Chapters:
patreon.com/Shadownarch_
If you're enjoying the story, consider dropping some Power Stones.