Camilo's eyes opened slowly.
He was still sitting on the same patch of grass. His back was bent a little, and his palms were flat against the cold ground. The world around him was quiet. Way too quiet. The hum of the city was completely gone. The air felt still — heavier than before, somehow.
For a moment, he thought he was still sleeping, until he saw someone standing right in front of him.
A tall man, wearing red and yellow. An old-style kit. Colors he recognized right away.
AS Roma.
The man smiled a little and held out his hand toward him. Camilo's eyes went wide. He knew that face.
"Francesco Totti…" he said quietly, barely breathing the words out.
Totti didn't say anything at first. He just gave a small smirk and tilted his head slightly to the side... that calm, confident look that every football fan had seen a hundred times before.
Then, in a smooth Italian accent, he said, "Come on."
Camilo waited for a second, looking from Totti's hand up to his face. Then he reached out and grabbed it.
The second their hands touched, everything around him completely changed. The grass shimmered and flickered, the night sky melted away into bright lights, and suddenly, he was standing inside a massive stadium.
The crowd was incredibly loud. Red and yellow scarves were waving everywhere in the stands. Players were sprinting back and forth across the pitch.
He looked down at himself right away. Still wearing the same shorts, same old Neymar shirt, and same cleats he'd put on before leaving his apartment. He wasn't wearing Roma's colors. He wasn't part of the game at all.
But no one in the stadium was looking at him.
A player ran right past him, then another one and Camilo realized they passed straight through him like he was made of smoke. Like he wasn't actually there at all.
The match just kept going, completely unaffected by him being there.
He turned around slowly, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
A scoreboard lit up in the distance: AS Roma vs Empoli.
He froze in place. He knew this match, this was the famous one. Then, like watching a replay come to life right in front of him, he saw it happen — Totti, in the middle of the pitch, fighting hard for the ball. A quick turn, a touch that was a bit too heavy, and then — crack.
Totti went down hard onto the ground. The sound was sharp and loud, echoing even through all the noise from the crowd.
Camilo's chest felt tight as he watched Totti grab his ankle in pain. Then, he heard Totti's voice again but this time, it wasn't coming from the field.
It was right next to him.
"I know what you're going through, Camilo," Totti said quietly.
Camilo turned his head and found him standing there beside him, watching the scene just like he was.
"It happened to me too," Totti continued, his eyes focused on his younger self lying on the pitch in pain. "The doctor told me I'd be out for four to five months. That I'd miss the World Cup completely."
Camilo swallowed. "But you recovered in just three months," he said softly, almost talking to himself. "You came back and played in the World Cup. You… you helped Italy win their fourth title."
Totti gave a small, proud smile. "Yes," he said. "But that's the part everyone in the world knows."
He turned to face Camilo now, his voice steady and serious. "They don't know the rest of the story."
The lights around them got dimmer. The roar of the crowd slowly faded away. The stadium melted into complete darkness, then started forming again into something new.
Camilo blinked, and suddenly he was somewhere totally different.
A small training ground. Empty. Not very well lit. Totti was there but not the calm, smiling captain everyone knew. This Totti looked tired, was limping, and sweating from pain. His foot was wrapped up in tape and bandages. His movements were slow and uneven.
He tried to take a shot at the goal, but the ball went way wide and missed. He made a face like he was hurting, putting his hands on his knees, breathing really heavy.
Totti's voice spoke again, echoing softly all around them.
"I made mistakes when I tried to rush back too fast," he said. "I trained when I should have been resting. I pushed my body harder than I should have."
The image around them shifted again, now Totti was sitting alone in a locker room, staring down at his taped ankle, and you could see the frustration clear on his face.
"Was I afraid?" he continued, walking next to Camilo now. "Yes. Very afraid. Every step I took, every turn I made, I kept thinking, what if it happens to me again?"
He looked directly at Camilo, his eyes steady and honest.
"But I didn't stop trying. Because for me… it was never just about winning the title. Or lifting the cup. Or hearing the crowd chant your name."
He put a hand over his chest. "It was about the game itself. The sound of the ball when you kick it. The touch. The feeling that you truly belong out there on that field."
Camilo looked down at the ground, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. He could feel it, that same fear sitting in his legs. That same ache deep down inside.
Totti took a slow breath. "So, tell me, Camilo," he said gently. "Are you going to give up?"
The world around them flickered again. The lights got brighter and brighter until they were back on the pitch, the same Roma vs Empoli match from before.
A ball came rolling slowly toward Camilo's feet. He stopped it with one touch, feeling the leather under his boot.
He stared at it for a long moment. Then he whispered, "No. I'm not giving up."
When he looked up again, Totti was gone.
The stadium lights suddenly got really bright, too bright, almost blinding him. Camilo threw up a hand to cover his eyes and when he opened them again…
He was back.
The empty field. The cool night air. The sound of the city coming back, faint in the distance.
He looked around, feeling confused and a bit dazed. The ball was gone. His heart was still beating fast.
He checked his watch on his wrist. Only one minute had passed.
He let out a small, shaky laugh. "I guess time doesn't work the same way over there," he said to himself.
He stood up from the grass, brushing off his shorts, and took a deep breath. The air felt different now, lighter somehow.
He whispered, "GOAT System."
The faint blue light flickered back into view in front of him.
[System Online]
He looked at it and said, "Ball."
The glow spread out across the field, painting faint outlines again. Two defenders appeared, just like they had before. A ball floated in the air in front of him, then dropped onto the grass.
He smiled just a little bit.
"Let's do this."
He tapped the ball forward with his foot — and started training again.
---
To be continued...