That morning, before leaving the house, he had deliberately asked TT for a lighter version of the physical training program inside the LTC.
The previous sessions had been brutal beyond reason.
Every single day ended with his muscles feeling torn apart before the recovery drills even began. Sotis he spent nearly eight hours inside the LTC simply recovering before he could even move properly again.
But today was important.
dical tests.
Performance evaluations.
Physical examinations.
He needed his body at its absolute best.
So instead of pushing himself to collapse again, he had spent longer resting and recovering.
And now, sitting there high above the clouds while the aircraft crossed into England, he genuinely felt good.
Fresh.
Sharp.
Ready.
Hours later, the plane finally began descending.
The skies outside had shifted from the softer gray tones of Germany into the clearer brightness hanging over Manchester.
At around 10 a.m., the aircraft touched down smoothly before taxiing toward the private terminal.
Then finally—
the cabin door opened.
Cool English air swept inside imdiately.
Lukas stood near the entrance for a mont before stepping down the stairs.
And almost instantly—
he could see them.
Even from the distance.
People waiting behind barriers far away from the private terminal entrance.
Phones already raised.
Caras pointed.
So wearing Manchester City shirts.
So holding signs.
So simply screaming the mont they spotted him stepping out onto the runway.
They already knew.
Lukas Brandt had arrived in Manchester.
As Lukas stepped down the stairs of the private jet, the noise beca clearer.
Not loud enough to be overwhelming.
But loud enough to imdiately feel real.
A small crowd of Manchester City fans had gathered beyond the restricted area near the private terminal entrance. Security barriers and airport staff kept them a short distance away, though several phones were already raised high into the air recording him.
A few City shirts.
A couple Germany jerseys.
One massive cardboard sign with WELCO LUKAS written across it in blue marker.
The mont he appeared properly at the bottom of the stairs, a small wave of cheers rose from the group.
"LUKAS!"
"OVER HERE!"
"WELCO TO CITY!"
Lukas couldn’t help smiling slightly as he raised a hand and waved toward them.
Imdiately, even more phones went up.
One of the younger fans nearly lost his mind entirely.
"Oh my God, he waved at us!"
João started laughing behind him while Joanna shook her head.
"Football fans are insane."
"They’re normal," João replied. "You’re the weird one."
Waiting near the runway entrance was Hugo Viana.
Perfectly dressed as always, composed, hands behind his back while two other club staff mbers stood nearby.
The mont Lukas approached, Hugo stepped forward with a smile and extended his hand.
"Welco to Manchester."
Lukas shook it firmly.
"Thank you for having ," he replied. "I’m happy to be here."
"You’ll get used to hearing that phrase a lot today," Viana said lightly.
He then turned slightly toward the man standing beside him.
"This is Aaron Hughes," Viana introduced. "He’ll basically be your guide for the next few days."
Aaron stepped forward imdiately.
Mid-thirties maybe.
Clean-cut.
Professional without looking overly formal.
"Nice to et you," he said with an easy smile as they shook hands. "I’ll help with pretty much everything you need while you settle in."
Then greetings were exchanged all around.
Marco.
Javi.
João.
Joanna.
Everyone introduced themselves briefly while staff mbers handled the luggage nearby.
anwhile, the City dia team had already resud filming again.
Caras rolled as Lukas greeted Viana on the runway.
Small shots.
Walking footage.
Airport arrival clips.
Everything carefully controlled for the eventual announcent package.
After a few monts, Viana gestured toward the convoy of black vehicles waiting nearby.
"So," he said, "we’ll head straight to the City Football Academy now."
Lukas nodded imdiately.
The City Football Academy.
Even hearing the na in person felt strange.
"We’ll do the dical first," Viana continued as they began walking toward the cars. "Then contract signing. Then dia duties."
He glanced toward Lukas briefly.
"If everything goes smoothly, we should finish most of it today. Worst case, we wrap up tomorrow morning."
"That’s perfect," Lukas replied.
"And if that happens," Viana continued, "you should still be able to fly to the United States in two days to et the squad before pre-season starts properly."
Lukas nodded again.
"Perfect."
As they reached the cars, Viana motioned lightly toward Aaron again.
"Aaron will also help you settle down while you’re here. Temporary accommodation, transportation, anything you need."
Aaron nodded.
"And longer-term too," he added. "If you decide to buy a place, rent sowhere long-term, anything like that, he’ll help organise it."
João imdiately leaned toward Lukas and whispered,
"Tell him you want a mansion."
Lukas elbowed him lightly without even looking at him.
"Shut up."
That got a small laugh out of Joanna while even Viana smiled faintly.
"It won’t be too difficult to get one if that’s what you want," Aaron replied.
"No, don’t listen to him please," Lukas interjected. "We can over the options later."
Soon, everyone climbed into the vehicles.
Doors shut one after another.
The convoy finally pulled away from the private terminal, leaving the airport behind as they drove out into Manchester traffic.
Lukas sat beside the window quietly for a mont, watching the city pass outside.
Different roads.
Different buildings.
Different atmosphere entirely.
And sowhere ahead—
the City Football Academy waited for him.
* * *
The convoy slowed as it approached the City Football Academy complex.
Even from inside the car, Lukas could already see people gathered outside the gates.
A lot more people than at the airport.
Blue shirts everywhere.
Flags.
Scarves.
Phones raised high into the air.
The mont the lead vehicle turned into the entrance road properly, the crowd erupted louder imdiately.
"LUKAS!"
"WELCO TO CITY!"
"BRANDT!"
João leaned slightly toward the window and blinked.
"Okay," he muttered. "That is way more people than I expected."
The City Football Academy itself looked exactly like what Lukas imagined one of the biggest clubs in the world should look like.
Modern.
Sharp.
Glass and steel architecture stretching across the massive complex while immaculate training pitches spread endlessly behind the main building. Every surface looked precise. Maintained perfectly. The pathways were spotless, the landscaping trimd to perfection, and everywhere he looked there were Manchester City crests worked subtly into the environnt.
Beyond the academy itself, the Etihad Stadium lood nearby in the distance.
Massive.
Watching over everything.
As the cars rolled closer, more fans pressed toward the barricaded areas near the entrance. Security kept them back professionally, but the excitent was impossible to contain.
So fans were already holding up blank Manchester City shirts with BRANDT printed across the back despite his squad number not even being announced yet.
Others waved German flags.
So simply scread every ti Lukas looked in their direction.
The mont he stepped out of the car, another roar went up from the crowd.
Caras flashed instantly.
Lukas paused for a second, slightly overwheld by the noise, before raising a hand toward them again.
That only made them louder.
One younger fan near the front nearly climbed the barricade entirely.
"LUKAS! PLEASE!"
Lukas walked over to the little kid, squatted down, and rubbed his hair.
"Be careful alright, you’re gonna hurt yourself," Lukas said as he signed the blank shirt the kid was wearing.
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