"The leg muscles," Mrs. Baker said. "Look at the tendons. This is where the power comes from. This is how they jump."

Mark was standing next to Alex. Mark looked pale. His face was the same color as the frog.

"I cannot do it," Mark whispered. "He looks like he is judging me. Look at his eyes, Professor. He knows what I did."

"He is a frog, Mark," Alex said. "He does not know anything. He is just biology."

"He is a jumper!" Mark insisted. "He is an athlete! Like me! This is a crime against speed!"

Maya, who was sitting at the next table, sighed. She had already dissected her frog perfectly. The organs were laid out in a neat row, labeled with little flags.

"It is fascinating," Maya said, adjusting her glasses. "The gastrocnemius muscle is huge relative to body size. If Mark had this muscle ratio, he could jump over the school."

"I could jump over the school right now if I wanted to!" Mark said, looking offended. "I just choose not to. It is dangerous for the roof."

Alex focused. He cut into the leg. He saw the white fibers. The mechanism of explosive power.

Explosive power.

He thought about Alphonso Davies. The Bayern Munich left back. He was fast. He was strong. His legs worked just like this. Snap. Extend. Launch.

"To beat him," Alex whispered to the dead frog. "We have to be faster than the snap."

Mark gagged. "I am going to be sick. The smell is entering my soul."

Mark ran out of the room.

Mrs. Baker shook her head. "Your friend has a weak stomach, Mr. Finch. Not ideal for a striker."

"He prefers to run away from things, Miss," Alex said. "It is his best skill."

Wednesday morning. Heathrow Airport.

The team was gathered at the departure gate. They were wearing their official club suits. Navy blue. Sharp. Professional.

Except for Mark.

Mark was wearing a trench coat. A fedora hat. And a pair of dark sunglasses. He was also holding a briefcase handcuffed to his wrist.

"Mark," Alex said. "Why are you dressed like a spy from a black and white movie?"

"Shhh!" Mark hissed. "I am incognito. We are going into enemy territory. Germany. The land of sausages and efficiency. I cannot let them know I am Mark Speed. I am... Agent Orange."

"Agent Orange is a bad name," Jude said, walking past with his headphones on. "Pick a new one."

"Agent Pretzel," Mark corrected. "And this briefcase contains top secret tactics."

"It contains comic books, doesn't it?" Alex asked.

"Maybe," Mark grinned. "And gummy bears. For energy."

They boarded the plane.

The flight to Munich was quiet. The players were focused. They had won the first leg 2 to 1. But a one goal lead against Bayern Munich was like holding a paper umbrella in a hurricane. It was not enough protection.

Steve, the manager, sat with Alex.

"The Allianz Arena," Steve said. "It is a spaceship. It glows red. It is designed to intimidate. When you walk out, the walls feel like they are closing in."

"I like tight spaces," Alex said. "Less distance to pass."

Steve smiled. "That is the spirit. But be careful. Harry Kane is angry. I spoke to Gareth Southgate. He said Harry has been training alone. Shooting practice. For hours. He wants to destroy us."

"Let him try," Alex said.

Munich. The Allianz Arena.

Steve was right. It did look like a spaceship. The outside of the stadium was glowing bright red. It looked alive. It looked hungry.

The dressing room was modern and cold. Everything was perfect. German engineering.

Alex put on his kit. The yellow away kit. The color of hazard warnings.

"Listen up!" Steve shouted.

The room went silent.

"They think the job is done," Steve said. "They think 2 to 1 is lucky. They think they will crush us at home. They have the history. They have the trophies. They have the machine."

Steve looked at Mark.

"But machines cannot improvise."

He looked at Jude.

"Machines do not have souls."

He looked at Alex.

"And machines can be broken. Go out there. And throw a wrench in the gears."

"I brought a wrench!" Milo yelled from the corner. Milo was wearing a mechanic jumpsuit covered in grease. "THE MECHANIC! I AM SELLING TOOLS! SPANNERS! HAMMERS! FIX YOUR GAME!"

"Get out, Milo," Steve sighed.

They walked down the tunnel.

The noise was physical. Seventy five thousand Germans screaming. A wall of red flags. Drums beating in a perfect, military rhythm.

Harry Kane stood in the tunnel. He looked bigger than last week. His eyes were focused. He did not look at Alex. He looked straight ahead at the pitch.

"He is in the zone," Jude whispered. "Terminator mode."

"We will unplug him," Alex said.

The whistle blew.

The game began.

It was an avalanche.

Bayern did not attack. They swarmed.

Musiala danced through the midfield. Sane sprinted down the wing. Kimmich launched missiles from deep.

In the fifth minute, Sane crossed the ball.

It was low. It was fast.

Harry Kane was there. He did not trap it. He hit it first time.

Boom.

The net shook.

One zero to Bayern.

The aggregate score was 2 to 2.

The stadium erupted. The noise was so loud Alex could feel his teeth vibrating.

"They are too fast!" Mark yelled. "They are running on autobahn speed!"

"Stay calm!" Alex shouted. "Reset!"

But Bayern did not let them reset.

In the twentieth minute, Musiala got the ball.

He ran at the defense. He dropped his shoulder. He went left. He went right. The Arsenal defenders fell over like bowling pins.

Musiala chipped the keeper.

Goal.

Two zero.

Total score 3 to 2 to Bayern.

Arsenal were out. They were dead. The machine had crushed them.

The Arsenal players stood with their hands on their hips. They looked shocked.

"It is over," Antoine whispered. "We are cooked."

Alex stood in the center circle. He held the ball.

He looked at the scoreboard. 35 minutes played.

He looked at Harry Kane, who was high fiving the crowd.

Then he remembered the frog.

The explosive power. The hidden energy.

And he remembered the biology lesson.

If the rhythm fails, the system collapses.

Bayern was playing at a furious rhythm. Attack. Attack. Attack.

They were overextending.

"Mark!" Alex yelled.

Mark looked over. He looked sad. His trench coat was back in the locker room.

"Agent Pretzel!" Alex shouted.

Mark perk up. "Yes?"

"The vacuum!" Alex said. "Remember the vacuum! Davies is attacking! The space is there!"

"But I am tired!" Mark whined.

"Do it for the gummy bears!" Alex lied. "I have a bag in my locker!"

Mark eyes widened. "Gummy bears?"

The game restarted.

Alex did not pass backward. He waited.

He invited the pressure.

Goretzka came to tackle him. Laimer came to tackle him.

Alex was surrounded.

The crowd cheered. They thought he was trapped.

But Alex was not trapped. He was the bait.

He waited until the last millisecond.

Then he did a "Cruyff Turn". He dragged the ball behind his standing leg.

He spun away from the two Germans.

He looked up.

Davies was high up the pitch. The space behind him was huge. It was an acre of green grass.

"GO!" Alex roared.

He hit the pass.

It was not a normal pass. It was a "Traveler". It floated in the air with backspin. It landed in the empty space and just sat there.

Mark ignited his engines.

He ran.

He ran faster than he had ever run. He ran past the defenders. He ran past the wind.

He got to the ball.

He was in the clear.

Neuer, the giant goalkeeper, stayed on his line this time. He learned his lesson from the first leg.

Mark looked up. He saw Jude running into the box.

Mark crossed it.

But the cross was too high. It was going over Jude head.

"Too high!" Jude yelled.

But Antoine was behind Jude.

Antoine Griezmann. The Magician.

He jumped.

He did not head it.

He turned his body in the air. He was upside down.

A bicycle kick.

His foot connected with the ball.

Smack.

The ball flew like a rocket. It went past Neuer ear. It almost took his head off.

It smashed into the roof of the net.

Goal.

Two one.

Aggregate score 3 to 3.

The stadium went silent. The Red Machine had stalled.

Antoine ran to the corner. He did a Fortnite dance. It was terrible. But it was beautiful.

"WE ARE ALIVE!" Mark screamed, jumping on Antoine. "WHERE ARE MY GUMMY BEARS?"

Halftime.

The score was level on aggregate.

"We have them," Steve said in the dressing room. "They are scared now. The machine is glitching. They did not expect us to fight back."

"My legs are burning," Mark said. "I think I pulled my frog muscle."

"Stretch it out," Steve said. "We have forty five minutes to win a war."

Second half.

It was a chess match.

Bayern attacked. Arsenal defended.

Alex controlled the tempo. When he had the ball, he slowed it down. He made Bayern chase. He made them frustrated.

Harry Kane was getting angry. He was shouting at his teammates. "PRESS HIM! GET THE BALL!"

But Alex was elusive. He was a ghost.

Eighty eighth minute.

Extra time was looming. Nobody wanted extra time. Everyone was tired.

Alex had the ball deep in his own half.

He saw something.

Harry Kane was pressing high. Musiala was pressing high.

The Bayern midfield was empty.

Alex started to run.

He dribbled past Kane. He dribbled past Muller.

He was in the open field.

"SHOOT!" the away fans screamed.

But Alex was too far out.

He saw Mark making a run. But Mark was limping. He was out of gas.

He saw Jude. Jude was covered.

Alex kept running.

He reached the edge of the box.

The defenders backed off. They were terrified of a penalty.

Alex stopped.

He put his foot on the ball.

The whole stadium froze.

Kim Min-jae, the monster defender, stepped out to tackle him.

Alex waited.

He saw the gap. Not for a pass. Not for a shot.

For a run.

He pushed the ball through the defender legs. A nutmeg.

Alex ran around him.

He was one on one with Neuer.

Neuer made himself huge. He looked like a bear.

Alex looked at the bottom corner.

Neuer dived to the corner.

Alex did not shoot to the corner.

He scooped the ball.

A chip. Another chip.

But this one was different. It had no spin. It was a knuckleball chip.

It wobbled in the air.

It went over Neuer hand.

It hit the crossbar.

Clang.

The ball bounced down.

It hit the line.

Did it go in?

The referee looked at his watch. The goal line technology buzzed on his wrist.

The referee blew his whistle and pointed to the center circle.

GOAL.

Two two.

Aggregate score 4 to 3 to Arsenal.

Alex fell to his knees.

The silence in Munich was heavy. It was the sound of a giant falling.

The last few minutes were chaos. Bayern threw everyone forward. Even Neuer came up for a corner.

But Arsenal held on. They were the wall now.

The final whistle blew.

Arsenal 4. Bayern Munich 3 (Aggregate).

They were in the Semi Finals.

Harry Kane stood in the center circle. He looked at the sky. He looked like he was in pain.

Alex walked over to him.

"Harry," Alex said softly.

Harry looked down. "You did it, Professor. You broke the machine."

"We just loosened the screws," Alex said.

"Good luck," Harry said. "Do not let Real Madrid beat you."

"We will try," Alex said.

Milo ran onto the pitch. He was chased by a steward.

"I AM AN ASTRONAUT!" Milo screamed. He was wearing a space helmet made of a bucket. "WE CONQUERED THE SPACESHIP! ALEX! THE KNUCKLEBALL! I AM SELLING GRAVITY BOOTS! ONE SMALL STEP FOR MAN! ONE GIANT LEAP FOR ARSENAL!"

The steward tackled Milo.

"WORTH IT!" Milo yelled from the ground.

Alex walked to the away fans. Mark was there. He was throwing his shirt into the crowd.

"I AM IRON MAN!" Mark yelled. (He was confused about which superhero he was).

The team celebrated. They danced. They sang.

Alex stood back and watched.

He felt tired. His frog muscles were aching.

He took his phone out.

A text from Maya.

"Statistically improbable. The trajectory of your chip had a 2 percent chance of success. You are a statistical anomaly. Also, Mrs. Baker says you need to wash your hands before you come to class. Frog residue is unhygienic."

Alex smiled.

He looked at the giant red stadium. It did not look scary anymore.

It just looked like a building.

And they had torn the roof off.

"Let's go home," Alex whispered.

Mark ran over. He was shirtless and holding a bag of pretzels he stole from the Bayern bench.

"Professor!" Mark yelled. "We did it! We are the best! Can we go to Disneyland?"

"Real Madrid is next, Mark," Alex said. "That is not Disneyland."

"It is close enough!" Mark said. "They have a castle on their badge!"

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