Football : The New El fenomeno

The soft glow of the moon seeped through the towering windows of the grand villa, casting ethereal silver streaks across the luxurious nursery. Lying in the cradle, the young soul—once a man who had conquered the footballing world, then the tech industry, only to meet an untimely end—now found himself reborn, his emerald-green eyes wide open, staring at the intricate ceiling above. His mind, sharp despite the absurdity of his situation, quickly took in every detail of his surroundings. 

The sheer grandeur of the room was breathtaking. The ceiling, adorned with delicate golden inlays, reflected the dim glow of the crystal chandelier hanging above, its countless facets shimmering softly in the night. The walls were lined with rich tapestries, each thread woven with care, depicting landscapes and artistry that spoke of wealth far beyond ordinary means. The scent of polished wood and fresh linen filled the air, the cradle he rested in carved from what appeared to be the finest mahogany, its surface gleaming under the moon's caress. 

Even as an infant, he could tell—his family was not just rich; they were among the elite. The room itself was evidence of a legacy built over generations. The plush, silk sheets he was wrapped in felt impossibly smooth against his delicate skin, and the faint warmth of a crackling fireplace in the distance hinted at a level of comfort most could only dream of. 

His ears picked up faint sounds—perhaps the distant murmurs of the household staff, the subtle rustling of curtains shifting in the night breeze, or even the sound of soft footsteps in the hallway beyond the grand doors. Whoever his new parents were, they were people of status, surrounded by luxury and attended to with unwavering dedication. 

Yet, despite the magnificence around him, an odd stillness settled in his heart. He had lived a life full of triumph, tragedy, and relentless ambition, only to find himself here—trapped in a body too small, too weak, too new. The contrast was almost suffocating. His memories were intact, his mind clear, but his body was utterly helpless. A strange, almost suffocating irony. 

A wave of exhaustion washed over him—perhaps a natural effect of being an infant, or maybe the sheer weight of his circumstances pressing down on him. His tiny fingers twitched as he fought to stay awake, his thoughts spiraling with questions. Who were his parents? What kind of world had he been reborn into? And why had fate granted him another chance at life? 

Before he could piece together an answer, his eyelids grew heavy, his body betraying his still-human need for rest. With a final glance at the grand, unfamiliar world around him, he surrendered to sleep, his mind drifting into the abyss of dreams.

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A sudden ding echoed in his mind, sharp and clear, cutting through the veil of his drowsiness. His tiny body stiffened instinctively, his newborn senses overwhelmed by the sudden, otherworldly sound. Then, before he could even process what was happening, an intense glowing blue light erupted before his eyes, swallowing his vision entirely.

For a brief moment, panic surged through him. The light was blinding, pulsing like a living entity, its radiance far too intense for his newborn eyes to handle. He tried to move, to blink, to shield himself, but his infant body refused to respond. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt—an overwhelming rush of energy, an unexplainable force wrapping around his consciousness.

Then, just as abruptly as it appeared, the light subsided. The nursery came back into view, the lavish surroundings unchanged, yet something was undeniably different. His heart—if it could even beat with such intensity in this fragile body—pounded as he noticed the translucent screen hovering before him, its glowing edges faintly pulsing as if alive.

A system interface.

His emerald-green eyes, wide with shock, scanned the ethereal text displayed before him.

[STATUS WINDOW]─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───Name: UnnamedAge: 0 (Newborn)Birth Date: August 2, 2000Height: 51 cm (1'8")Weight: 3.4 kg (7.5 lbs)Abilities: NoneTemplates: NoneTalent:• Football (SSS) – A generational talent, possessing instincts, vision, and skill far beyond ordinary comprehension.• Technology (EX) – A mind wired for innovation, coding, and system design, capable of revolutionizing industries.• Leadership (A) – Natural charisma and decision-making skills that inspire loyalty and command respect.Shop: LockedPopularity: Locked─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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As he stared at the glowing interface in his mind, shock coursed through his tiny body.

He tried to blink, but his newborn eyelids barely moved.

"What the hell is this?"

A system? A status window? This was something out of a fantasy novel, not real life. He had lived through an entire lifetime—he had played football at the highest level, won the Ballon d'Or, lost everything, rebuilt himself as a tech mogul, and died saving a child.

And now… he was here.

Reborn.

His mind spun as he read through his status again.

Football (SSS).

That alone sent shivers down his spine. He had been great in his past life, but this? This was a talent beyond normal comprehension. A level of skill that could surpass even the greatest legends in football history.

And then there was Technology (EX).

That meant he still retained the business acumen, coding ability, and tech innovation skills from his previous life. He wasn't just a football prodigy—he had the potential to revolutionize the world once again.

But what shocked him the most wasn't the talents.

It was his name.

Unnamed.

For the first time, he realized that he wasn't just reborn. He was a blank slate. His parents hadn't named him yet.

This was a new life. A new beginning.

And he had no idea where it would take him.

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Time flowed like a river, and in the blink of an eye, two years had passed.

The once-fragile newborn had grown into a lively and intelligent toddler. His once-tiny fingers were now firm, capable of gripping objects with surprising dexterity. His legs, which had once wobbled with uncertainty, now moved with an uncanny balance and precision. Every step he took was deliberate, every movement smooth, as if his body had already mastered the art of control far beyond what a normal child could achieve.

And he had a name now.

Julio Sky Iglesias.

When his parents had named him, something inside him had settled. He was no longer just an unnamed soul in a new body. He had an identity. A place in this world.

But that didn't mean he had forgotten.

The memories of his past life were still vivid, as clear as day. He could still remember the rush of the crowd when he won the Ballon d'Or, the sheer euphoria of scoring goals on the grandest stage, and the unbearable pain of losing it all in the cruelest way possible. He remembered the cold sterility of hospital rooms, the devastating moment when the doctors told him he'd never play again. And the bitterness of being forced to say goodbye to the sport he loved.

Yet, despite the agony, he had rebuilt himself. He had climbed out of despair, becoming one of the world's greatest tech minds, revolutionizing industries, and leaving an impact that few could dream of.

And then… his death.

The flashing lights. The boy frozen in fear. The impact. The suffocating darkness.

And now… here he was. Reborn.

Julio stood in front of a massive floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the sprawling city of Madrid. Even though he was just two years old, his mind was anything but.

His family was wealthy. No, beyond wealthy.

The estate he lived in was a testament to opulence. Every detail of the villa screamed luxury and power. From the sprawling gardens filled with exotic flowers to the marble halls that echoed under his small footsteps. The chandeliers, the intricate paintings, the soft leather furniture—everything told him that his family belonged to the elite.

From the bits and pieces of conversations he had overheard from his parents, Julio had pieced together a crucial truth—his father was no ordinary man.

Fernando Sky Iglesias was not just a successful businessman. He was the sole owner of Sky Groups, a multi-billion-dollar conglomerate with influence stretching across multiple industries.

Even at his young age, Julio could grasp the sheer magnitude of such power. He had lived a life of wealth before, but this? This was a whole different level.

His father's presence alone was commanding—his sharp brown eyes held a depth that could see through any deception, and his decisions carried the weight of a man who controlled empires. It wasn't just about money. It was about power. Influence. Control.

It explained everything.

The grand estate, the staff who moved with precision, the security detail that subtly but diligently watched over them. He wasn't just rich—his family was part of the elite of the elite.

And Julio?

He was the heir to that legacy.

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Date: August 2, 2007

Five years had passed, and Julio was now seven years old.

The dining hall of the Sky Villa was as grand as ever, bathed in the warm glow of the chandelier overhead. The long mahogany table was elegantly set, with exquisite dishes arranged before them. Despite the luxury, tonight was just another family dinner.

Julio sat between his parents, Fernando and Alina, quietly enjoying his meal as the conversation flowed around the table.

"So, Julio," Alina began, her emerald green eyes soft with affection, "how's school? Are you making friends?"

Julio swallowed a bite of his food before answering. "It's alright, I guess. Some of the classes are boring, but I like math. And history is fun too."

Fernando chuckled, setting his fork down. "Good. Math is important if you want to understand business. But you should enjoy being a kid too. You don't need to think about that yet."

Julio tilted his head slightly. "What if I do?"

Alina laughed lightly. "Oh, cariño, you're too young to be thinking about running companies. Just focus on school for now."

Julio smirked. If only they knew the mind that lay behind his young face.

But for now, he simply nodded, playing the part of an ordinary seven-year-old.

As the conversation shifted, Alina leaned forward slightly, a curious smile playing on her lips as she cut a piece of her steak.

"Julio, have you thought about what you want to do when you grow up?"

Julio paused mid-bite, his fork hovering over his plate. The question was simple, innocent even, but it carried a weight that only he could truly understand.

He had already lived an entire lifetime before this one—a life where he had conquered the world of football, winning the Ballon d'Or at 24, only to have everything ripped away from him in a tragic accident. A life where he had rebuilt himself from the ground up, crafting a tech empire and even becoming the CEO of YouTube.

And now? He was here. A child once more. A blank slate. A fresh start.

He glanced at his father, a man who ruled over Sky Groups, a multi-billion-dollar empire. Then at his mother, a woman whose intelligence and grace made her just as formidable in her own right.

What did he want to do?

Did he want to reclaim the glory of his past life—walk onto the field again and rewrite history? Or did he want to follow a different path, one that he never got the chance to explore?

Instead of answering right away, he decided to play along. With a thoughtful expression, he tapped his fork against his plate before answering.

"I don't know… maybe football?"

His father, Fernando, chuckled, setting down his wine glass. "Football, huh? Not a bad choice. You'd have all of Spain cheering for you if you made it big."

Alina, however, tilted her head slightly, her emerald-green eyes observing him closely. "Football is a wonderful dream. But what about business? Do you find it interesting?"

Julio nodded, reaching for his glass of water. "I like numbers. And I like the idea of building something big."

Fernando smirked, clearly pleased. "That's my boy! Business is in your blood, after all. But there's no rush. You have plenty of time to figure things out."

Alina smiled warmly. "Exactly. Whatever you choose, just make sure it makes you happy."

Julio smiled back, but deep inside, his mind was already racing.

Fernando leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he studied his son with a serious expression. His warm brown eyes held a sharpness that Julio had come to recognize—a look that meant his father was truly considering something important.

"Julio, are you serious about playing football?" he asked, his deep voice calm yet firm.

Julio, who had been casually twirling his fork between his fingers, paused. He met his father's gaze, realizing that this wasn't just a simple question. Fernando wasn't asking as a curious parent—he was asking as a man who knew what it meant to commit to something fully.

He could feel both of his parents waiting for his answer. His mother, Alina, had set her utensils down, her emerald-green eyes watching him intently.

Julio took a deep breath, setting his fork aside. Was he serious?

In his past life, football was everything to him. It was his passion, his identity, his life's purpose. He had achieved greatness, reaching heights that most could only dream of, before losing it all in an instant.

Now, he had a chance to start over. To rewrite his story.

Was he truly willing to step onto the pitch again?

A slow, confident smile spread across his face as he gave a small nod. "Yes."

His father raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Football isn't just a game at the professional level. If you choose this path, there's no half-hearted effort. It will take everything you have."

Julio met his father's intense gaze without hesitation. "I know." His voice was steady, unwavering. "And I'm ready for it."

There was a brief silence. Then, Fernando leaned back in his chair, his lips curling into a smirk. "Alright then."

Alina let out a soft breath, shaking her head with an amused smile. "Looks like we have a future footballer in the family."

Fernando nodded, tapping his fingers against the table thoughtfully. "If you're serious about this, we're going to do it properly. I'll arrange for you to join an academy. You'll need top-tier training."

Julio's heart raced slightly. It was happening.

His journey back to football had begun.

After an intense evening training session, Julio wiped the sweat off his forehead, his muscles burning from the drills. He was sitting on the patio of their Madrid villa, sipping a cold glass of water when his father, Fernando, walked over and sat beside him.

There was a rare excitement in his father's eyes as he spoke. "You know, your mother and I are huge fans of FC Barcelona."

Julio blinked in surprise. "Really?"

His father chuckled. "Of course. I've supported them since I was a kid. And your mother—well, let's just say she'd disown me if I ever cheered for Real Madrid."

Julio smirked at the thought. Alina Ivanov, a die-hard Barcelona fan? He had never really thought about it, but now that he did, he could imagine his mother passionately watching matches, critiquing plays, and cursing at referees when decisions didn't go Barça's way.

Fernando continued, his voice turning serious. "Since you're serious about football, I want you to have the best foundation possible." He leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "I'm going to arrange for you to train under a fitness coach—someone who specializes in conditioning young athletes."****"This way, when you turn ten, you'll be in peak condition to try out for La Masia."

Julio's breath caught for a second. La Masia. The legendary academy that had produced some of the greatest footballers in history.

His heart pounded in his chest. He had once graduated from La Masia in his past life. It was where his football journey had truly begun.

And now, he had a chance to do it all over again.

His fingers tightened around the glass of water as he met his father's gaze. "I won't waste this opportunity."

Fernando nodded approvingly. "Good. Because from now on, we're going to push you like a real athlete."

Julio smiled. He wouldn't have it any other way.

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