The early autumn sun hung lazily over Catalonia, but the air at Cuitat Esportiva Joan Gamper was anything but relaxed.
From the moment Sam Moses stepped onto the pristine training pitch, the rhythm of the session felt heavier, denser. It wasn't just La Liga that loomed ahead; the Champions League had already thrown its first punched, and across Europe, the giants were awake.
If FC Barcelona wanted to retain their crown as Champions of Europe, they had an uphill battle to climb.
They had to make sure that giants like them fell in their wake.
The scoreboard of the young season was beginning to take shape. Four league games, four victories.
Barcelona and Real Madrid, side by side at the top, breathing down each other's necks. The media didn't even bother to hide the inevitable narrative anymore. Two perfect records, two footballing powerhouses.
One storm destined to collide.
Hansi Flick stood before his players, the tactical board filled with intricate lines, arrows, and red circles marking pressure zones.
"Four games, four wins, good," he said, his German accent slicing cleanly through the low hum of the room. "But it means nothing if we think we can cruise".
"The high line we run will make or break us this season. Every run you make off the ball, every defensive transition, they all have to be sharper. Faster. We are not winning because we are the best yet, we are winning because we are playing hungrier".
Sam sat beside Gavi, rolling a ball between his boots. Lamine Yamal leaned forward, soaking in every word.
Balde tied his laces tighter, knowing Flick's system demanded lung-bursting sprints up and down the flank.
"We play to control the game, but when we lose the ball…" Flick stabbed at the board, "we hunt in packs. Pressing triggers. No hesitation. No passengers".
Pedri grinned. "So, same as always. Run until our legs burn".
Flick gave a rare smile. "Run until their legs break first".
…
Across the city, it was a media frenzy. Every sports paper in Spain was already on fire.
SPORT: "Barca & Madrid: Four from Four – Clash of Titans Brewing".
Marca: "Unstoppable Forces on a Collision Course".
AS: "Moses vs Mbappe – Football's New Superpower Rivalry".
The chatter wasn't just in Spain. In London, Munich, and Paris, pundits had their say after Champions League matchday two.
Even after days, the media attention did not wane.
Liverpool may have stumbled against Barcelona, but their win against AC Milan in their first UEFA champions league game had reminded everyone they were a threat.
Bayern Munich's dismantling of Napoli in their first game was also a warning to the continent. They may have lost to Madrid, but they were not out yet.
PSG's free-flowing attack had people whispering about a return to dominance. Last season, they were electric. If they maintained the same standards this season, maybe Luis Enrique really was about to create a dynasty in France.
Despite it all though, the loudest roars came from Spain. Barcelona's flawless win in Amsterdam against Ajax and then Liverpool had been elegant.
Real Madrid? Their hard-fought victory at the Emirates against Arsenal had been brutal, but nowhere as near as the crazy work they did at the Allianz Arena. Two different philosophies, two perfect starts.
The question was, who would blink first?
…
For Sam, the return to normal training drills wasn't enough. The system had lit up again after the Liverpool game, delivering the familiar daily quest.
~----~
[Daily Quest: Maintain Physical Supremacy]
[Objective: Complete 5km morning job, 1 hour technical drill, and 30 minutes gym conditioning.]
[Reward: Physical Conditioning Elixir.]
[Penalty: Permanent System Loss.]
~----~
Yes, even at this year, at this level of fame and ability, the system was still threatening him that it would leave if he failed even a day's system quest.
It wasn't even a choice, the system was absolute.
Tsk.
And so, at 6:00 am sharp, Sam's shadow stretched across the training ground under the floodlights, his breath visible in the cool morning air.
By 6:05, Gavi joined him. Then Balde. Then Lamine and Pedri. Soon, the 'Bromance Five' were pounding the turf, their rhythm in sync, their laughter cutting through the early stillness.
"Bro, I'm not even in preseason mode anymore," Gavi groaned between breaths.
"That's the point," Sam shot back with a grin. "Season mode all year".
…
Meanwhile, 600 km away, Madrid's training at Valdebebas had its own edge. Xavi Alonso moved like a general among his troops, his voice calm but carrying weight.
"Kylian, your timing with Vini is good, but I need sharper angles," he told Mbappe, who nodded.
"Jude," he called out, "when you win the ball, I want you looking for Trent immediately. His switches will break any press".
Madrid's camp wasn't talking about Barcelona openly, but everyone knew. The players could feel it in how intense Alonso's sessions were becoming.
Coaching a club as big as Real Madrid seemed easy till you got the job. The pressure was real, expectations were high.
Xabi Alonso knew that the bare minimum was to beat Barcelona, and to win trophies. If not, he may just lose his job come next season.
…
As the week ticked down, both clubs had their eyes on Matchday 5 of the Spanish La Liga as the fixtures loomed.
[La Liga Matchday 5 – Fixtures]
*Barcelona vs Villarreal (Camp Nou)
*Real Madrid vs Celta Vigo (Santiago Bernabeu)
*Atletico Madrid vs Valencia
*Real Betis vs Osasuna
*Sevilla vs Mallorca
*Real Sociedad vs Cadiz
On one hand, Villarreal's away fans were already promising noise in Catalonia, while Celta vowed to frustrate Madrid in their own fortress.
The pundits were already salivating.
Some whispered that Villarreal's counterattack could trouble Barcelona's high line. Others claimed Celta might spring a surprise if Madrid underestimated them.
But the truth?
Everyone knew the two clubs were building toward something far bigger. Every pass, every sprint, every goal was fuel for the fire that would rage when they finally meet.
And as Sam laced up his boots in the locker room that Friday evening, a single thought burned in his mind.
Win. And keep winning.