The door closed behind Marco and Carla with a quiet click, leaving the conference room heavier than before.

For a moment, neither Hardung nor Preuß moved.

Hardung remained standing, his hands resting lightly on the back of the chair, his gaze fixed on the door as if expecting it to open again. It didn’t.

He exhaled slowly.

"I feel like we’ve just made a huge mistake," he said.

Preuß didn’t respond immediately. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his fingers interlocked in front of him, his expression thoughtful rather than dismissive.

"I know what you mean," he said after a moment. "But we can’t keep hold of him for too long. Not at this level. Not with this attention."

Hardung shook his head faintly. "Still..."

There was a pause.

Then he added, quieter this time, "I just hope we don’t regret it."

Preuß didn’t answer.

* * *

Outside, the air felt warmer.

The contrast between the tension of the meeting and the calm of the outside world was almost jarring. The building behind them carried on as usual, staff moving through corridors, preparations for the national team break underway, everything continuing as if nothing had changed.

Marco walked ahead without slowing, the file still tucked under his arm, his expression set. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Carla kept pace beside him, her steps quick but measured, not asking questions yet. She didn’t need to. She had been in the room. She had heard everything.

They reached the car.

She moved to the driver’s seat without hesitation while Marco opened the rear door and slid into the back, the leather seat sinking slightly under his weight as he leaned back.

The door shut.

For a second, he just sat there.

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

He didn’t scroll.

Didn’t hesitate.

He called.

The line rang once.

Twice.

Then—

"Yeah?"

Marco spoke immediately. "Where are you?"

There was a brief pause on the other end.

"In Darmstadt," Lukas replied. "I got back yesterday."

Marco closed his eyes for a second, leaning his head back slightly against the seat.

"You were in Monaco right? How was it?"

"Yeah," Lukas said. "It was wonderful. I was there with Jamal. Stayed a few days. Met a few people. Came back yesterday."

Marco nodded faintly, even though Lukas couldn’t see him.

"What are you doing now?"

"Nothing much," Lukas said. "Just here. I’m planning to head to Bavaria tomorrow."

"For the final?" Marco asked.

"Yeah," Lukas replied. "Champions League final on Saturday. Then we report on Monday."

There was a short silence.

Marco straightened slightly in his seat.

"Don’t go anywhere," he said.

Lukas paused. "Why?"

"I’m coming to Darmstadt," Marco said, his tone firm now. "We need to talk."

Another pause.

"...Okay," Lukas said slowly.

"Is your father there?" Marco asked.

"Yeah."

"Good," Marco said. "Stay there. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes."

"Alright."

The call ended.

Marco lowered the phone slowly, his expression unchanged, but the tension in his jaw more visible now.

Carla glanced at him through the rearview mirror.

"Darmstadt?" she asked.

Marco nodded once.

"Yeah," he said. "Lukas’ place."

Carla didn’t say anything else.

She started the engine.

And the car pulled away.

* * *

The room felt different.

Not loud.

Not quiet either.

Just... heavy.

Lukas sat where he was, leaning slightly forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands loosely clasped together. Javi stood a few steps away, one hand on his hip, the other hanging by his side, while Marco remained opposite them, still holding the file he had brought with him.

No one spoke for a few seconds.

The words had already been said.

And they were still settling.

Javi was the first to break the silence.

"So... you mean they’ve decided to move on from him?" he asked, his voice steady, but there was something underneath it.

Marco shook his head slightly.

"Cash in would be the more appropriate term," he said.

Javi frowned.

Marco continued, his tone professional, but not detached.

"There are concerns," he said. "From the board. They see the form, the impact, everything he’s done—but they’re also looking at the other side. They don’t want to take the risk that this is... a one-season peak. Or that something happens next year and his value drops."

He paused briefly, then added,

"And right now, the offers are there. Big ones. Manchester City. Atlético Madrid. Both serious. Both ready."

Javi exhaled slowly, turning his head slightly as he processed that.

"So they want to sell him," he said.

"Yes."

No dressing it up.

No softening it.

Just the truth.

Javi ran a hand across his face, then looked back at Marco. "And what about him?" he said, nodding toward Lukas. "He’s supposed to just... pack up and go? New country, new league, new everything? What about school? What about... everything else?"

Marco didn’t interrupt.

He let him finish.

"I’m not saying it’s not a good opportunity," Javi continued. "But this is fast. Too fast."

Marco nodded slightly.

"I understand," he said. "And I agree—it is fast. That’s why I came straight here. Nothing is signed. Nothing is final yet."

He shifted slightly, looking between both of them.

"If Lukas wants to stay, I believe I can push for it. He still has time left on his contract. I can negotiate, delay things, make a case for at least one more season."

Javi looked at Lukas then.

Really looked at him.

"What do you want?" he asked.

The question hung there.

For a moment, Lukas didn’t respond.

He was still sitting in the same position, his head slightly lowered, his gaze fixed somewhere on the floor in front of him. The conversation had gone on around him, but he hadn’t said a word.

Not once.

Then slowly—

he lifted his head.

His eyes moved from Javi... to Marco.

He shook his head.

"If they don’t want me," he said, his voice calm, but firm, "I won’t beg them to stay."

The room went still again.

Javi didn’t respond immediately.

Marco didn’t either.

Lukas leaned back slightly now, resting against the couch, his posture more relaxed, but his expression unchanged.

"Let’s talk to the clubs," he said. "Let’s see what they’re offering."

Marco studied him for a second, then nodded.

"Alright."

He opened the file in his hand, pulling out a set of documents.

"I already have Atlético’s proposal," he said. "They sent it earlier, before all of this... changed."

He placed the file on the table in front of Lukas.

"We didn’t go into it at the time because you weren’t considering leaving. But now—"

He didn’t finish the sentence.

He didn’t need to.

Javi crossed his arms, still watching Lukas closely.

"And City?" he asked.

Marco shook his head. "They’ve made contact, but nothing detailed yet. That will come once we open discussions."

There was a brief pause.

Then Marco looked directly at Lukas.

"So," he said. "Have you decided? City... or Atlético?"

Lukas didn’t answer immediately.

He leaned forward again, resting his forearms on his knees, his eyes now on the file in front of him.

Then he shook his head once.

"No."

He looked up.

"Let’s speak to both," he said. "See what they’re offering first."

Marco nodded slowly.

"Okay," he said.

And just like that—

it began.