The golden morning light streamed into the quiet, wooden-paneled boardroom on the top floor of Carrington.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the morning mist still clung softly to the training pitches below. But inside the room, the atmosphere was serene, almost reverent. The iconic silver trophy of the UEFA Champions League sat on a marble pedestal in the corner, its ribbons sparkling under the warm sunlight.
Llori Anna Farris sat at the long mahogany table, wearing a crisp, tailored black club suit. Across from him sat Erik ten Hag, sipping black coffee, and technical director Dan Ashworth, who opened a thick leather bound portfolio.
"Fifty-four appearances across all competitions," Ashworth said softly, flicking through the pages of data. "Twenty-two goals, nineteen assists. You are the youngest player in history to score in a Champions League final, and the youngest winner of the Premier League Young Player of the Year award."
Ashworth pushed a single document across the table. At the top, in bold embossed lettering, read: MANCHESTER UNITED FOOTBALL CLUB — CONTRACT EXTENSION & SQUAD ROLE PROMOTION.
"The club is offering you a five-year contract extension," Ashworth continued, looking at Llori with profound respect. "And with it, a request from the manager."
Ten Hag reached across the table, placing a small, velvet-lined box in front of Llori. Llori opened it carefully. Inside lay a brand-new, deep red shirt with golden trim.
On the back, above the name FARRIS, was the legendary number: 7.
"You earned this," Ten Hag said, his voice quiet but resonant with weight. "Bestowed upon Best, Robson, Cantona, and Ronaldo. But remember, Llori—the number seven does not give you privilege. It gives you the obligation to define every match you play."
Llori ran his fingertips over the stitched fabric of the icon number, feeling the cold air outside, feeling the steady, unshakeable pulse inside his chest.
"I accept the obligation, Boss," Llori said simply.
August 2026. The Olympic Stadium in Helsinki, Finland, was packed to its sixty-thousand capacity under a clear, starlit Nordic sky.
UEFA SUPER CUP FINAL
MANCHESTER UNITED (UCL WINNERS) VS. REAL MADRID (UEL WINNERS)
Olympic Stadium, Helsinki
The preseason heat had faded, replaced by the crisp, cool air of Northern Europe. The match was the traditional curtain-raiser for the new European football calendar—a battle between the newly crowned Champions of Europe and the kings of European royalty, Real Madrid.
PIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!
The whistle blew, and the high-speed tactical chess match commenced.
Real Madrid, managed with cold tactical flexibility, set up in a fluid 4-3-3 shape. Across from Llori on the right flank stood Jude Bellingham and Dani Carvajal, working in a tight, synchronized defensive partnership designed specifically to choke Llori’s central half-space channels.
In the 18th minute, Llori received his first ball under the intense stadium lights, wearing the iconic Number 7 shirt for the first time in an official match.
Carvajal immediately closed down the three-yard gap, positioning his body to force Llori wide onto his left foot near the touchline. Simultaneously, Bellingham tracked back at full sprint to seal off the inside passing lane to Bruno Fernandes.
Llori didn't rush. He didn't execute a flashy stepover.
Remembering the spatial principle of the Decoy Angle, Llori took a deliberate, heavy touch backward toward his own half, dragging Carvajal two yards out of Real Madrid's defensive line.
The moment Carvajal committed his weight forward to press, Llori executed an instantaneous Inside-Heel Drag—flicking the ball through Carvajal’s open stance before spinning around his outside shoulder into the vacant space!
"OH, DEAR ME!" the commentator gasps! "LLORI ANNA FARRIS FLIES PAST CARVAJAL WITH A DELICATE FLICK OF THE HEEL!"
Llori drove forward into the box, drawing Antonio Rüdiger across, before sliding an unselfish, pinpoint low cross into the six-yard box for Rasmus Højlund to tap in!
SWISH!
GOAL! Manchester United 1, Real Madrid 0!
Llori sprinted toward the corner flag, pointing at Højlund before turning around to display the iconic Number 7 on his back to the cheering crowd!
Real Madrid fought back with the relentless poise of veterans. In the 39th minute, Vinícius Júnior unleashed a curling thirty-yard beauty into the top corner, leveling the score at 1-1 before the half-time whistle.
The second half became an intense, end-to-end spectacle of pure footballing luxury.
In the 81st minute, with the match balanced on a razor's edge at 1-1, United won a free-kick twenty-four yards out from goal, directly in the central channel.
Bruno Fernandes stood over the ball alongside Llori.
Thibaut Courtois lined up a six-man Real Madrid wall, stepping back and forth along his line to command the sightlines.
"You take it," Bruno whispered to Llori, stepping aside with a confident nod. "Show them."
Llori stood three paces back from the ball, his posture relaxed, breathing slowly in through his nose. He took in the position of Courtois, the height of Rüdiger in the wall, and the gentle wind blowing across the pitch from the left.
PIIIIIII!
Llori stepped forward with three measured, rhythmic strides.
Instead of striking the ball with full power, Llori struck the lower-left quadrant of the ball with his inside lace—generating a unique Knuckle-Curve trajectory!
The ball exploded over the heads of the leaping wall, dipping violently from right to left in mid-air, completely bamboozling Courtois, who committed his weight to the right before watching in horror as the ball knifed into the top left corner!
BANG... SWISH!
GOAL! Manchester United 2, Real Madrid 1!
THE STADIUM ERUPTED!
Llori turned toward the United bench, sliding on his knees with both arms outstretched as his teammates flooded the pitch to mob him!
"ABSOLUTE POETRY IN MOTION!" the commentator yelled into his microphone! "LLORI ANNA FARRIS MARKS HIS DEBUT AS MANCHESTER UNITED'S NEW NUMBER SEVEN WITH A MAGNIFICENT FREE-KICK TO WIN THE UEFA SUPER CUP!"
PII-PII-PIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!
The final whistle sounded!
Full Time: Manchester United 2, Real Madrid 1.
Gold confetti rained down from the Helsinki night sky as Llori lifted his second European trophy in three months.
As the team celebrated on the pitch, Erik ten Hag walked up to Llori, putting his arm around the young superstar's shoulders, looking out at the glittering stadium.
"A new season begins tonight, Llori," Ten Hag said, a proud smile on his face. "The world knows your name now. Every defender will prepare for you. Every team will build a trap for you."
Llori looked down at the trophy in his hands, then up at the clear night sky, his eyes calm, sharp, and fearless.
"Let them build their traps, Boss," Llori replied softly. "I'll just draw a new grid."
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