Chapter 163

As the halftime whistle blew, both sets of players trudged off the field, aware that the game was far from over.

Izan had been knocked down but had risen to deliver a goal that was Puskas-worthy.

The second half promised more drama, and everyone—coaches, players, fans, and pundits—knew that the next 45 minutes would be a test of resilience, skill, and heart.

The halftime whistle echoed through the Mestalla, and fans spilt into the concourse, their voices blending into a symphony of excitement and frustration.

Groups of Valencia supporters gathered near snack stalls and walkways, dissecting every moment of the first half.

"Did you see Izan? That touch to beat Koke was pure class!" one fan exclaimed, gesturing animatedly as he replayed the scene in his mind.

His friend nodded, still shaking his head in disbelief. "And that shot! Oblak barely got a fingertip to it. I didn’t get to see him play against them at the Wanda Metropolitano but this too is fine. Izan is running the show!"

Nearby, an older fan adjusted his scarf, his voice carrying a mix of pride and concern.

"The boy is special, no doubt. But where’s the support? Duro should have finished that move!"

A younger supporter, near the old man, chimed in, "Give it time. With Izan creating like this, the goals will come. You can feel it!"

In another corner, kids mimicked Izan’s feints and passes, their laughter ringing out. "Izan is now and the future!" one of them shouted, drawing cheers from nearby fans.

As the halftime break wound down, optimism surged. The name "Izan" buzzed through the crowd, the fans united in hopes that their young star would deliver in the second half.

While Valencia fans buzzed with optimism, Atlético supporters were more subdued as they gathered in the away section and nearby concourses.

"That kid, Izan—he’s got something special," one fan muttered, sipping from a plastic cup. Another nodded grimly. "He’s too good for his age. Our midfield can’t contain him. Simeone needs to sort this out."

In the locker room, Diego Simeone’s fiery presence filled the air. The players sat on benches, catching their breath, as the coach paced, his voice low but intense.

"Listen up," he began, his eyes scanning the room. "That kid—number 21. Izan. He’s dangerous, and we’re letting him play his game. He’s making fools of us out there.

The last time we gave him that much freedom, he scored three goals against us. If we leave him much freedom, it will be detrimental"

The players nodded almost simultaneously while listening to Simeone speak. After speaking for a while, Simeone stood still but he turned to Koke and Rodrigo de Paul.

"You two need to stay tighter on him. Don’t give him an inch. No more free passes into the final third."

He pointed at Savic and Hermoso. "When he gets near the box, shut him down. No hesitation. Make him uncomfortable, but stay clean. We can’t afford a free kick in that area."

The coach’s voice rose as he concluded. "He’s just turned 16! Show him what experience means. This isn’t his playground—it’s our battlefield. Let’s end this game our way!"

The players nodded, determination rekindled. As the second half approached, both sets of fans and teams braced for what promised to be an electrifying continuation.

At halftime, inside Valencia’s dimly lit dressing room, the medics huddled around Izan. The young star sat on the bench, his face calm but his body betraying the toll of Atlético’s relentless challenges.

His right leg, the target of repeated kicks, was stretched out in front of him as one medic carefully removed his shin guard.

"How does it feel here?" the lead medic asked, pressing gently along his shin and calf. Izan winced slightly but shook his head. "It’s sore, but I can play. It won’t hurt after I run it off" he said softly.

Another medic applied an ice pack to a particularly bruised spot just below his knee.

"You’ve taken some nasty hits, Izan. If it stiffens up or you feel anything sharp, let us know immediately," she said firmly.

As they wrapped his leg with a compression bandage, Rueb Baraja leaned in. "Are you good to go, kid?" Izan’s answer was immediate. "Yes, coach. I’m ready."

The medics exchanged glances, then gave a reluctant thumbs-up. Baraja saw their reluctance but still let Izan go into the second half.

After the examination, Izan stood up and went into the bathroom. Locking the door behind, Izan went into his inventory, taking out a conditioning pill, a recovery pill and a new pill that had been unlocked by the system.

"I really hope these energisers are as described since the system won’t lie," Izan said as he popped a blue and red candy into his mouth.

For a while, nothing happened but then, Izan felt a wave of energy rush over him. Not waiting, Izan took the recovery and conditioning fluids together, his sore muscles and bruises, being relieved of their pain.

"Izan, we are leaving for the pitch" a voice came from behind the washroom door. Izan who fixing his socks came out of the bathroom before joining the staff who stood been behind the door.

The tunnel hummed with tension as players from both teams prepared to return for the second half.

The Valencia players emerged first, their white and black kits pristine smudged by dirt.

Izan led the way, his youthful face a picture of focus, his leg now tightly bandaged. Teammates clapped him on the back, their belief in the teenager clear.

Hugo Duro leaned over, muttering encouragement into his ear, while Javi Guerra gave him a reassuring nod.

Behind them, Atlético’s players waited, their red-and-white stripes contrasting sharply against Valencia’s colours.

Diego Simeone stood at the tunnel’s entrance, his arms folded, barking final instructions to Koke and de Paul.

Savic and Hermoso exchanged knowing glances, silently preparing to renew their physical battle with Izan.

The atmosphere was electric as the players caught glimpses of one another. The intensity of their first-half clashes lingered in the air.

Izan briefly locked eyes with Griezmann, the Frenchman offering a faint smirk, half respect, half warning.

The tunnel gave way to the deafening roar of the Mestalla. Fans on both sides rose to their feet, chanting and clapping as their heroes stepped onto the pitch. The stage was set for a second half brimming with drama and determination.

"Welcome back to the Mestalla, where it’s all square at 1-1 after an exhilarating first half between Valencia and Atlético Madrid!

The home side’s teenage sensation, Izan, was at the heart of everything creative for Valencia, drawing plaudits with his dazzling footwork and audacious attempts on goal.

On the other hand, Atlético, ever the masters of resilience, struck with a clinical finish from Antoine Griezmann, only after Valencia scored through a moment of magic orchestrated by—you guessed it—young Izan, his freekick enough to beat Veteran Jan Oblak.

His vision and composure have been nothing short of extraordinary, a constant thorn in Atlético’s defence.

Both sides will be hungry for a winner in this second half. Valencia will look to their young star to continue weaving his magic, while Simeone’s men will aim to turn the tide with their experience and physicality.

It’s perfectly poised, folks—youth versus experience, fire versus ice. Who will find that decisive edge in the next 45 minutes? Stay with us as we kick off what promises to be a thrilling second half!"

As the referee’s whistle signalled the start of the second half, Atlético Madrid wasted no time asserting their dominance.

Their midfield trio sprang into action, exchanging crisp passes to pull Valencia’s defence out of position.

The ball was quickly shifted to the left wing, where a darting run by their fullback stretched the opposing line.

Izan who had also tracked back moved to block the opposing left back but the ball missed him as a low cross zipped into the box, narrowly evading a diving header from their striker, Alvaro Morata.

The move screamed precision and intent, but Valencia’s defence, led by their towering centre-back, Cenk Ozkacar held firm and cleared the ball deep into their half.

That clearance, however, was anything but aimless. It found Izan, positioned near the throw line. His first touch was sublime, cushioning the ball as two Atlético players converged.

With a sharp turn, he evaded both, his speed and balance leaving them in his wake. A roar erupted from the crowd as he surged forward, eyes scanning the pitch.

"And Valencia are on the counter here. The Atlético men are trying to track back but it’s fruitless."

Diego Simeone shouted from the touchline urging his men to get back.

Izan on the other hand, threaded a perfectly weighted through ball to his sprinting teammate down the right flank.

The counterattack now had Atlético scrambling. Their defenders, still recovering from their own offensive foray, struggled to regain shape.

Izan, not content to sit back, continued his run into the box, anticipating the return pass.

The cross came in low and fast, slicing through Atlético’s defence. Izan met it first-time with his left foot, a calculated strike aimed for the bottom corner.

The goalkeeper, diving full stretch, could only graze the ball.

The Valencia players were ready to mob Izan, but suddenly a foot was stuck out changing the trajectory of the ball.

The culprit was none other than veteran defender, Cesar Azpilicueta who had displayed his quick thinking by going behind Oblak.

The away fans screamed in delight but they were not out of the danger zone yet since the ball had gone out for a corner.

A/n: Second of the day. Happy New year. Have fun reading guys and I hope 2025 is a good year for all of us. Love you all and thanks for the support. I’ll come back with a new year’s resolution in the next chapter