Day Two - Physical Testing
The morning began at 6:30 AM with a wake-up call that felt far too early.
Ethan and the other players assembled on the main pitch in the cool February dawn. Coach Ferrier stood with a clipboard, flanked by two fitness coaches and a medical team.
"Today we test your physical attributes," Ferrier announced. "Speed, agility, endurance, strength. Football is not just technique and tactics. Your body is your weapon. We need to know what weapons you bring."
The first test was the 30-meter sprint. Players lined up in groups of five, electronic timing gates measuring their speed to the hundredth of a second.
Ethan watched the first few groups. The fastest times were hovering around 4.0 seconds—impressive for fifteen and sixteen-year-olds.
When his turn came, he felt the disadvantage immediately. Many of these boys had already gone through growth spurts. His legs were still catching up. Pure physics worked against him.
He exploded off the line, pumping his arms, driving his legs as hard as he could.
4.42 seconds.
Not terrible, but nowhere near the leaders. He saw some of the older boys smirking, particularly Julien from the previous night.
Baptiste ran next. 4.02 seconds. Second fastest overall.
"Don't worry about it," Baptiste said afterward, noticing Ethan's frustration. "You'll grow. And besides, football isn't just about straight-line speed."
The agility test came next—a shuttle run through cones requiring quick changes of direction. This was more Ethan's domain. Where pure speed favored the bigger boys, agility favored technique, balance, and anticipation.
Ethan attacked the course. His low center of gravity helped him change direction explosively. His vision allowed him to plan his route three moves ahead, taking optimal lines through the cones.
His time: 8.73 seconds.
Fastest in the entire camp.
Coach Ferrier made a note on his clipboard, his expression neutral but his eyes showing a flicker of approval.
The endurance test was brutal—a 1500-meter run on the track surrounding the pitch.
Ethan had never been a distance runner. His game was about explosive movements, quick bursts, technical skill. Sustained running for multiple laps? That was torture.
He started conservatively, staying in the middle of the pack. Baptiste and several others surged ahead, clearly more comfortable with endurance work.
By the fourth lap, Ethan's legs were burning. By the fifth, his lungs screamed for air. But he remembered his father's words: Character keeps doors open.
He pushed through the pain. Didn't walk. Didn't quit. When his body begged him to stop, he thought about Monaco, about Mbappé, about the Princes and their promise.
He crossed the finish line in 5 minutes, 58 seconds. Upper-middle of the pack—not impressive, but respectable.
Julien, who finished twenty seconds behind him, had to be helped off the track by teammates.
Character, Ethan thought. That's what they're testing.
Day Two - Afternoon Session
The tactical session was held in a classroom with a large screen and tactical board.
Coach Ferrier displayed various match scenarios—defensive shapes, attacking patterns, transition moments. Then he asked questions.
"What do you see wrong with this defensive shape?"
Most players stayed silent. A few raised hands with basic observations.
Ethan studied the diagram. He saw it immediately—three moves ahead. "The left center-back is too narrow. If the attacking team plays a diagonal ball behind him, the left-back can't cover because he's pinned by their winger. There's a gap."
Ferrier nodded slowly. "Correct. And how would you exploit it?"
"If I'm the striker, I drag the right center-back toward me with a checking run, creating even more space on the left. Then I play a one-touch pass to the winger making a run behind, who can either shoot or square it to me after I've spun off my defender."
The room was silent. Even Ferrier looked impressed.
"That's... professional-level analysis. How old are you again?"
"Fourteen, Coach. Fifteen next month."
"Fourteen." Ferrier made another note. "Anyone else see that?"
A few players raised hands tentatively, but it was clear Ethan had been the first and most comprehensive in his answer.
Day Three - Small-Sided Games
This was what Ethan had been waiting for—actual football.
The forty-five players were divided into five teams of nine. They would play a round-robin tournament—four games per team, playing 7v7 on a reduced pitch.
Ethan's team—Blues—included Baptiste, a creative midfielder from Lille named Maxime, and several solid players from various academies. The opposing team—Reds—included Julien and several other physical defenders.
Coach Ferrier refereed personally. "I want to see decision-making under pressure. I want to see leadership. I want to see who makes their teammates better. Play!"
From the opening whistle, the Reds targeted Ethan physically. Julien shadowed him closely, using his size advantage to muscle him off the ball whenever possible.
"Come on, prodigy," Julien muttered during one collision. "Show us what you've got."
Ethan stayed calm. Three moves ahead. They're pressing me hard, which means space is opening elsewhere.
When he received the ball next, three defenders converged on him. Instead of trying to dribble through them, he played a simple one-touch pass to Maxime, who was completely unmarked because everyone had focused on Ethan.
Maxime drove forward and played Baptiste through on goal. 1-0.
"That's football intelligence!" Ferrier shouted. "Using the attention you draw to create space for others!"
Over the next twenty minutes, Ethan orchestrated his team like a conductor. He didn't force things. Didn't try to be the hero. He just played three moves ahead—seeing patterns, creating space, facilitating attacks.
By halftime, Blues led 3-0. Ethan had scored once and assisted the other two.
During the break, Baptiste pulled him aside. "You're playing differently than in the videos."
"What do you mean?"
"More team-oriented. Less individual brilliance. It's actually more effective."
Ethan smiled. "I learned something from Monaco. When everyone's talented, being selfish doesn't work. Making others better? That wins games."
The second half showed Ethan's complete skill set.
In the forty-eighth minute, he received the ball at the halfway line with space to run. For the first time all game, he decided to go solo.
He accelerated past the first defender with a burst of speed. The second defender came in for a tackle—Ethan executed a perfect Lavinho elastico, the ball seeming to change direction impossibly. The third defender tried to block his path—Ethan nutmegged him with casual efficiency.
Now it was just him and the goalkeeper, eighteen yards out. He saw the keeper's weight shift left. Saw the near post slightly exposed. Calculated the exact power and placement needed.
He struck with his right foot—his weaker foot—curling it around the diving keeper into the bottom right corner.
4-0.
The entire camp—players from all teams—erupted in applause. Even Julien, who'd been defending against him all game, shook his head in grudging respect.
"That was filthy," Baptiste said, hugging him. "Absolutely filthy."
Final score: Blues 6, Reds 1. Ethan: three goals, three assists.
Day Four - Leadership Test
Coach Ferrier introduced an unexpected exercise: "Today, each team will elect a captain. That captain will be responsible for organizing a training session for their team—designing drills, managing time, coaching their teammates."
Blues gathered to vote. The choice seemed obvious to everyone.
"Ethan should be captain," Baptiste said. "He's the best player and has the best tactical understanding."
Others agreed. Even the older players on their team nodded.
But Ethan hesitated. "Are you sure? I'm the youngest here."
"Age doesn't matter," Maxime said. "Leadership does. And you make us better. That's what a captain does."
Ethan became captain by unanimous vote.
He designed a session focused on movement off the ball and creating space—concepts he understood better than anyone. He organized small-sided drills where players rotated positions to understand different perspectives. He gave constructive feedback, encouraged struggling teammates, and pushed everyone to think tactically.
Coach Ferrier observed from the sideline, taking detailed notes.
At the end of the session, he pulled Ethan aside. "That was impressive. You coached like someone with years of experience. Where did you learn that?"
"From watching. From thinking about football constantly. From training with older players at Monaco." Ethan paused. "And from understanding that football is a collective game. Individual talent matters, but making others better matters more."
Ferrier studied him for a long moment. "You're mature beyond your years, Ethan Loki."
Day Five - Final Evaluation
The last day brought individual meetings with the coaching staff.
When Ethan entered Ferrier's office, the coach gestured to a chair.
"Five days ago, I was curious," Ferrier began. "A fourteen-year-old at a U-16 camp? Could be special, could be hype. But now I know."
He opened a folder containing pages of notes and statistics.
"Your physical scores were mixed—excellent agility, good endurance, below-average speed. But you'll grow. Your tactical understanding is exceptional—honestly, better than some professional players I've worked with. Your technical ability is outstanding. And your leadership... that surprised me most."
Ferrier leaned forward. "Ethan, I'm recommending you for immediate inclusion in the U-16 national squad. You'll train with them regularly and be eligible for upcoming international friendlies."
Ethan felt his heart race. "Really?"
"Really. You've earned it." Ferrier's expression became serious. "But I need to be honest with you about something. The path you're on—prodigy at fourteen, potentially playing U-16 internationals before you're even fifteen—it's rare. The pressure will be immense. The scrutiny will be constant. Are you prepared for that?"
Ethan thought about everything he'd learned. About pressure being a privilege. About joy being essential. About having brothers like Mbappé on the journey.
"I'm prepared, Coach. And I won't let you down."
"I believe you won't." Ferrier extended his hand. "Welcome to the France youth program, Ethan. Make us proud."
That evening, Ethan called his parents with the news.
His mother cried. His father's voice cracked with emotion. Marie screamed so loudly in the background that the phone distorted.
As he lay in bed that final night at Clairefontaine, Ethan updated his mental list of accomplishments:
✓ Selected for France U-16 at age fourteen ✓ Youngest player in the program ✓ Earned respect of coaches and players ✓ Proved character matters as much as talent
Three moves ahead, the path was becoming clearer.
First move complete: represent France at youth level.
Second move: score in his first international match.
Third move: continue climbing toward the senior team.
In two years, at seventeen, he'd make his professional debut with Monaco.
And Kylian Mbappé would be right there beside him.
The Princes of Monaco.
The future of French football.
It was all coming together.
End of Chapter 12