It looked like Leroy Sané was about to cut inside and shot!
Hovering near the top of the penalty arc, the German winger dropped his shoulder and faked a shot.
The Aston Villa box was so completely packed with bodies that when he finally did strike the ball, it simply slammed into a solid wall of claret and blue defenders.
Conor Hourihane pounced on the loose rebound.
Without a second thought, the Irish midfielder immediately pushed the ball to Theodore.
Nowadays, Theodore was the undisputed heartbeat of this Aston Villa side.
Winning the ball meant finding the teenager first.
"Theodore receives the ball again! This is a massive counter-attacking opportunity for Villa!" Peter Drury's voice hit a fever pitch on the broadcast.
Up in the Etihad stands, the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Both City and Villa supporters completely forgot to cheer, their eyes glued to the teenager.
Taking the pass in stride near the center circle, Theodore put his foot down.
The stadium clock had just ticked past the 83rd minute.
He had been battling the best midfield in England all night, yet he was still sprinting like the referee had just blown the kickoff whistle.
He was fast and tearing into the attacking third with terrifying, raw speed.
Watching from the dugout, sheer panic flashed across Pep Guardiola's eyes.
"Stop him!" Guardiola screamed, frantically waving at Benjamin Mendy and João Cancelo.
City's two full-backs were the absolute last line of defense. Pep demanded they rush out and shut the kid down at all costs.
Mendy and Cancelo knew exactly what was at stake. They didn't need their manager's yelling to realize the danger.
They rushed to close the gap, converging on Theodore near the top of the penalty area to form a desperate, do-or-die double-team.
But Theodore didn't try to play the hero and force his way through.
Just as the two defenders snapped the trap shut, he nonchalantly flicked the ball with his right boot, sliding a perfectly weighted pass into the left side of the penalty area.
Jack Grealish arrived right on cue.
Because Cancelo and Mendy had sold their souls to stop Theodore, the Villa captain found himself standing in miles of open space.
No defenders. No pressure.
Grealish took one touch with his right foot, stepping deep into the Manchester City box.
On the goal line, Ederson hesitated.
The Brazilian keeper was caught in two minds about rushing out, but Grealish was already swinging his boot.
Boom!
The ball rocketed straight into the far bottom corner!
Ederson threw himself at it in a desperate dive, but he was grasping at thin air.
"Grealish!!"
"Jack Grealish scores the killer blow against Manchester City! Five to three! Aston Villa stretch their lead!"
"And the assist... of course it comes from Theodore Bjorn! He has a stat line of four goals and one assist tonight! It's just staggering!" Drury shouted, entirely running out of words for the youngster.
The Etihad was plunged into a stunned silence once again, save for the away end, which erupted into absolute madness.
Grealish was so hyped he ripped his shirt clean off, dropping to his knees on the wet grass and screaming in pure ecstasy.
Everyone in the stadium understood what this meant—the game was dead and buried.
With only six minutes left, plus stoppage time, scoring twice against a team that was about to park the bus was a mountain too high, even for Guardiola's City.
The referee jogged over and flashed Grealish the mandatory yellow card for the shirtless celebration, but the captain couldn't have cared less.
On the touchline, Guardiola rubbed his bald head, looking utterly helpless.
He had no substitutions left.
All he could do was pray for a miracle from the players on the pitch.
...
But the miracle never came.
Grealish's goal had injected pure, unadulterated adrenaline into the Villa squad.
Every player wearing claret and blue fought like dogs for the remaining minutes, relentlessly pressing and running themselves into the ground to disrupt City's passing rhythm.
Even with the referee slapping five minutes of added time onto the clock, the intense high press meant City struggled to string even three passes together in the dying moments.
The final whistle blew.
5-3.
Aston Villa had walked into the Etihad and dismantled the reigning champions!
With this massive away victory, Villa extended their miraculous winning streak to ten matches, widening the gap at the top of the Premier League table.
As soon as the game ended, the Villa players collapsed onto the turf, totally spent.
Theodore was the only one still standing, clapping toward the away end, soaking in the roaring applause from the traveling fans.
Before long, Pep Guardiola walked onto the pitch and approached him.
Despite the bitter defeat, the City boss looked composed.
He wrapped an arm around Theodore's shoulder.
"Theodore, you played an incredible game. Honestly, you're the most talented midfielder I've ever seen," Guardiola said warmly.
"Thank you, boss," Theodore replied politely.
Pep looked him dead in the eye, his tone turning serious. "Truly, Theodore, I would love nothing more than to have you join Manchester City. I believe that together, we could win every trophy there is."
Theodore didn't give him a hard yes or no.
He just offered a diplomatic smile. "Let's see what fate has in store. Maybe we'll cross paths in the future, but right now, my head is completely at Aston Villa."
"Of course," Pep nodded understandingly. "You've become a god to those fans—you owe it to the club to bring them glory. It was a pleasure watching you play today, and congratulations on the win." He patted Theodore's back and wandered off to shake hands with Grealish.
...
Finishing the night with four goals and an assist, Theodore was handed the Man of the Match trophy once again.
Before he could escape down the tunnel, a Sky Sports reporter cornered him.
"Theodore, congratulations on the win. You're sitting on 14 goals and 16 assists—leading the league in both. Are you aiming for the Golden Boot or the Playmaker Award this season?"
Theodore smirked, exuding a quiet, cold confidence.
"Heh.. I want them both."
Down in the press room, Dean Smith was practically vibrating with joy.
"Dean, let's talk about tonight," a reporter started eagerly. "You just beat the mighty Manchester City on their own patch. Moreover, Theodore Bjorn dropped four goals and an assist. Is he the best midfielder in the Premier League right now?"
Smith beamed, happily answering the barrage of questions.
"I am genuinely proud of every single lad in that dressing room. Beating City away and hitting a ten-game winning streak is a monumental achievement. Before tonight, a lot of people called us 'flat-track bullies' who hadn't been tested by the elite." Smith paused, a proud smile on his face.
"I think after putting five past Manchester City, that noise is going to fade away."
He leaned closer to the microphone. "As for Theodore? In my eyes, he's the GOAT. He's on par with Pelé and Maradona, even if he operates in the middle of the park. And as he matures, I genuinely believe he'll be able to master even more positions on the pitch."
When Guardiola took the hot seat shortly after, he looked surprisingly relaxed for a man who had just conceded five goals at home.
"Pep, your team was just undone by a seventeen-year-old kid. How do you assess that?" a journalist from The Times asked.
Guardiola offered a wry, self-deprecating smile, spreading his hands.
"It was a very difficult night. Honestly, the only fortunate thing is that we didn't let Theodore score a fifth."
The room chuckled, but Pep turned serious. "Without a doubt, Theodore is the most talented player I have ever witnessed. More impressive than Leo. I thought Leo was terrifying at seventeen, but after tonight, I realize Theodore is the greatest seventeen-year-old the sport has ever seen."
"Rumors say you tried to sign him this summer. Is that true?"
"I'm sorry," Pep replied smoothly, waving the question off. "I'm only here to talk about the ninety minutes we just played. Transfers are not on the table."
"Do City still have a chance at the title?"
Pep laughed. "It's October. The season ends in May. Of course we have a chance. It's a marathon."
...
Back in the locker room, it was an absolute madhouse.
The Villa players were celebrating wildly. Conquering the defending champions on their own turf was the ultimate high.
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for defeating the Premier League defending champions, Manchester City!]
[Ding! Additional reward: 10 free attribute points!]
Theodore nearly choked on his post-match sports drink.
He quickly sat down and pulled up his interface.
Ten free attribute points! This was huge.
He honestly preferred raw stats over skill cards, they let him manually plug the holes in his game instead of just boosting one specific trait.
Looking at his chart, his Ball Control was sitting at a decent but unspectacular 71.
He dumped all ten points into it immediately.
Tonight's absolute war against City had shown him just how crucial a tight first touch was.
İlkay Gündoğan had hounded him relentlessly all night. If his touch was even slightly heavy, the German intercepted it before he could blink.
He couldn't afford sloppy control against elite pressing teams.
[Ball Control: 71 -> 81!]
His overall rating didn't budge from 89, but he felt significantly more complete as a player.
...
By the time the team bus rolled back into Birmingham at midnight, the internet had completely broken.
Fans were flooding social media timelines.
"A great player needs no words! Theodore Bjorn will win the Ballon d'Or!"
"A newly promoted team beating the defending champions 5-3 away... this is too dreamlike!"
"This is the first time I've seen Guardiola so dejected! Theodore Bjorn has redefined the concept of a midfielder."
The sports media went into a complete frenzy, churning out articles that hailed him as a generational talent.
Sky Sports: "The Title Decider? Promoted Villa conquer the Etihad for their 10th straight win!"
The Times: "Etihad Stunned! 17-year-old Theodore Bjorn drops 4 goals and 1 assist to shatter City 5-3 in an all-time classic!"
The Guardian: "The greatest midfield performance in Premier League history? The boy destined for the Ballon d'Or single-handedly destroys the champions."
Manchester Evening News: "Pep's men torn apart by a teenager. Bjorn's market value skyrockets to €85m—the highest for any player born in the 2000s, without a doubt."
Birmingham Sports Gazette: "Birmingham won't sleep tonight! Aston Villa's midfield god puts on a five-star masterclass to silence Manchester!"
Even the massive European outlets couldn't ignore the noise.
In a single night, Theodore's name had echoed across the entire continent.
AS: "Premier League Summit Clash: A 17-year-old delivers perfection to topple Guardiola's empire!"