"Are you ready, compadre?" Julián beamed.

Leon, trapped in the body of an eight-year-old boy named 'Leo', his mind a screaming vortex of confusion, grief, and a thousand unanswerable questions, just... stared. He couldn't speak. He had just died. He had left his mother, his team, his club. He had left Sofia. And now he was... here. 2030. In a small, unfamiliar house, in a small, unfamiliar body, being greeted by the ghost of his past.

"Leo! Honey!" A woman's voice, warm and cheerful, came from the bottom of the stairs. A woman he didn't know, but who felt, in this strange new body, like home. "Don't keep your Padrino waiting! You're going to be late for your first practice!"

Padrino. Godfather. Julián.

Leon just nodded, a single, jerky movement, his 19-year-old mind (was he 19? He'd retired at 18... managed for a year... he'd lost track) completely unequal to the task of processing this. He numbly got dressed in the small football kit laid out on his bed, his own white hair a familiar, mocking crown on this new, tiny head.

He stumbled downstairs. The woman—his new mother, Maria— fussed over him, straightening his shirt, handing him a piece of toast. She was kind, her smile warm, her eyes full of a simple, uncomplicated love that made the knot of grief in Leon's chest tighten.

"So excited, yes?" she said, her voice a soft, comforting melody. "Your first day at the big academy! And your Padrino Julián is taking you!"

Julián, who was leaning against the doorframe, a patient, knowing smile on his face, just winked at him. "It is a day of great philosophical importance, Maria," he said, his voice still the same, a beautiful, chaotic blend of Argentine passion and profound, existential nonsense. "It is the first step in a long, beautiful, and probably very confusing journey. We must not be late."

The car was a sleek, silent, futuristic bubble, gliding through a city that looked like a sci-fi movie. Everything was clean, glass and steel, with strange, pod-like vehicles zipping by.

Leon sat in the passenger seat, his feet dangling inches from the floor, the world outside a blur.

"Julián," he finally managed to say, his voice a high, reedy squeak that was not his own. "I'm... I'm dead, aren't I?"

Julián's smile softened. He reached over and ruffled Leon's white hair, the gesture so familiar, so real, that tears sprang to Leon's eyes. "That life is over, compadre," he said gently. "Your mother, Elena... Sofia... they lived full, happy lives. They mourned you. They missed you. But their story... it is finished. This," he said, gesturing to the gleaming, futuristic world outside, "is your new one."

"But... how? Why?" Leon whispered. "And how are you here? You look... older."

"Ah, the big questions! My favorite!" Julián beamed, his old energy returning. "It is simple! You, my friend, were a 'Player'. A user of the System. A very special, very chaotic Player who kept breaking all the rules." He laughed. "And the System has a... a 'New Game+' protocol. A fail-safe. For its most valuable assets. Your host body failed, tragically. But your soul, your data... it was too valuable to lose."

"So the System... it did this?"

"The System, the 'Guardians', the 'Network'... whatever you want to call them," Julián said with a shrug. "They saved you. And they sent you here. A new body, a fresh start, all your potential intact."

"And you?" Leon asked, his mind reeling. "Are you... are you a 'Player' too?"

"Me?" Julián let out a huge, booming laugh. "No, no. I was never a 'Player'. I was always something... stranger." He tapped his temple, his eyes sparkling. "You saw the game in numbers and codes, Leo. I saw it in colors and philosophical questions. I was a 'Bard', a 'Mascot'... a 'Tactical Chaos Agent'. My system was very confusing and mostly involved bananas." He grinned. "When I retired, the Guardians gave me a mission. They said a very special, very powerful, and very, very confused soul was about to be rebooted. They said he would need a guide. A mentor. A godfather." He looked at Leon, his expression full of a deep, profound affection. "How could I say no?"

As Julián spoke, Leon closed his eyes. He had to know. 'Status,' he thought, a familiar, desperate command.

The interface flickered to life in his mind. But it was different. It was simpler, cleaner, almost... cartoonish, as if designed for a child.

[USER: Leon (Host: 'Leo' v2.0)]

[SYSTEM REBOOT: COMPLETE]

[HOST AGE: 8]

[PRIMARY CLASS: MANAGER (LOCKED - Requires Host Age: 16)]

[SECONDARY CLASS: PLAYER (ACTIVE)]

[CURRENT ABILITY: 15 / 99]

[POTENTIAL ABILITY: 96 / 99]

[SKILLS & TRAITS: NONE]

[SYSTEM POINTS: 0]

He was back. He was at level one. His 'Power Shot', his 'Silken Dribble', his 'Iron Body'... all of it, gone. Wiped clean. But his potential... his 96 potential... that was still there. It was a fresh start. A true 'New Game+'. A wave of pure, unadulterated, and slightly hysterical relief washed over him.

They arrived at a massive, futuristic complex of glass and steel, a place that made the AXA Training Centre look like a high school gym. "The Etihad Campus 2.0," Julián announced proudly. "Manchester City. Still the best team in the world. And this," he said, leading Leon through the automatic doors, "is your new home."

They walked out onto a pristine indoor pitch, where a group of about twenty other eight-year-olds were chaotically kicking balls in every direction. It was a beautiful, noisy, adorable mess.

"Okay, my little tactical warriors!" Julián bellowed, blowing a whistle that seemed to appear from nowhere. "Gather 'round! We have a new player! This is Leo! He is... new. So be nice. No 'tactical slide tackles' today, Tom!"

A small, stocky kid built like a tiny refrigerator, who was in the middle of a very serious-looking lunge at a training cone, just grunted in disappointment.

Another kid, with bright, fiery red hair and a face full of freckles, zipped over to Leon. "Hi! I'm Mason! I'm the striker. I'm the fastest. My dad says I'm the next Erling Haaland. Can you pass?"

"I can pass," Leon said, his tiny 8-year-old voice squeaking with the gravity of his 19-year-old brain.

"Good," Mason said, satisfied. "Pass to me, and we will win."

Leon just smiled. He looked around at his new team, his new life. He did a quick, instinctive scan.

[Mason K. | Po: 89 | Cu: 19]

[Tom 'The Wall' H. | Po: 78 | Cu: 21]

[Unnamed kid currently trying to eat a football: Po: 55 | Cu: 10]

He still had it. The 'sight'. He was a tactical genius in a tiny, uncoordinated body. This was... this was going to be fun.

"Okay!" Julián clapped his hands. "A simple rondo! The beautiful, philosophical circle of passing! Let's see what you've got, compadre!"

Leon got in the circle. His new body was slow, clumsy, his feet tangled. But his brain... his brain was on another level. He saw the passes before they happened. He moved into space. He intercepted the ball with a simple, intelligent movement that made the other kids' jaws drop. He was playing 4D chess while they were still learning the rules of checkers.

He looked over at Julián, who was watching from the sideline, a proud, knowing grin on his face.

After the session, Julián was driving him home, the futuristic city glowing in the late afternoon sun.

"You are a natural, compadre," Julián said, a note of genuine awe in his voice. "Even in that tiny body, your football brain... it is a beautiful thing."

"It feels... strange," Leon admitted. "But good. It feels like... a chance."

"It is a chance," Julián agreed. "A chance to do it all again. To grow. To become the legend you were always meant to be." He pulled the car up to the house, his expression turning a little more serious. "But you must be careful, Leo. This world... it is not the same as the one you left. The 'Network' is... bigger. More complex. There are more 'Players' now. More 'Guardians'."

"Like Chivu?" Leon asked.

Julián's smile tightened. "Like Chivu," he confirmed. "He is still out there. A powerful 'Guardian', still trying to 'contain' the anomalies he doesn't understand. And he is not the only one. You are a 'Player' without a 'Guardian'. A rogue. That makes you... very, very dangerous to them."

He looked at Leon, his eyes full of a strange, exciting fire. "But you are also very, very valuable to others." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, sleek, digital business card. He handed it to Leon. "A new 'Guardian' has taken an interest in you. He said you would be... 'rebooted'. He told me to give you this when you were ready. He said... he wants to talk about 'unfinished business'."

Leon looked at the card. The name on it was not one he recognized. But the title... the title made his blood run cold with a new, terrifying, and utterly thrilling sense of purpose.

[Flavio Briatore: Guardian Class - 'The Ringmaster']

[Protocol: ACTIVE. Target: Leon 2.0. Status: Awaiting Contact.]

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