Limitless Pitch-Chapter 95 – New Air

The moment the plane touched down in Germany, Thiago felt it in his bones. It wasn’t just the slight jolt of landing gear kissing the tarmac — it was something deeper. Like the shift of gravity in his chest. Like his body knew he wasn’t home anymore.

Through the small window, he could see gray skies hanging low over the airport, the clouds so dense it felt like they were pressing down on the earth. No sunlight, no heat rising from the pavement, no familiar samba rhythms from a nearby car radio. Just cold, unfamiliar silence.

He glanced at Marina, who had just finished shutting off her phone. "They’re already outside," she said. "Dortmund sent a driver. He’s waiting by arrivals with a club rep."

Thiago nodded and leaned back as the fasten seatbelt sign turned off. People began to shuffle into the aisle. Marina stood and retrieved her small suitcase, nodding for him to follow.

It wasn’t long before they were walking through the terminal, Thiago pushing a cart with his modest luggage — just his backpack and duffel, same as when they left São Paulo. He walked slower than usual, taking it all in. Signs in German. Crisp, almost too-clean air. Everyone walking with purpose, bundled in jackets and scarves.

They exited the airport doors and were immediately hit by the cold. It wasn’t unbearable, but it was sharp — it bit at his cheeks, crept under his sleeves. Thiago zipped up his jacket and pulled the hood tight.

Standing just outside the automatic glass doors was a tall, broad-shouldered man holding a Borussia Dortmund placard. Beside him stood a younger guy, maybe late twenties, with wire-rimmed glasses and a thin smile.

"You must be Thiago," the younger man said in slow, deliberate English. "Welcome to Germany. I’m Lukas — academy logistics. This is Jens, from security and transport."

They exchanged handshakes. Jens grabbed the cart and loaded Thiago’s bags into the back of a sleek black SUV. The windows were tinted. Everything about it looked foreign and expensive.

As they pulled away from the curb, Marina spoke quietly beside him. "First impressions matter here. Just be yourself. Don’t try to act like someone else. They already know who you are."

Thiago nodded, his eyes fixed on the landscape outside. The road signs looked like they belonged in a textbook. The cars were boxier, the streets quieter. Trees stood bare, stripped of leaves, as they passed through suburbs blanketed in dull winter gray.

"Long flight?" Lukas asked from the passenger seat, looking back at them.

"Yeah," Thiago said. "Didn’t sleep much."

"You’ll get used to the travel," Lukas said with a grin. "Soon it’ll feel like nothing."

They passed a yellow sign that read Dortmund, and something tightened in Thiago’s chest. This wasn’t a highlight reel or a fantasy. He was here. Really here.

After about forty minutes, the car pulled into a private entrance near the back of a hotel. "Just for the first few days," Marina said. "We’ll get you settled near the training center later, but they want you close by for now. Medical checks tomorrow. Photos, some light media stuff. But nothing crazy. No pressure."

Jens opened the door for him. "Welcome to Dortmund, Thiago."

Inside, the lobby was modern — all glass and dark wood — and a woman behind the counter greeted them with a polished smile and smooth German. Lukas handled the conversation, and within minutes, Thiago was being handed a room key.

His room was on the fourth floor. The elevator ride was silent except for the soft hum of the motor.

When the door clicked open, Thiago stepped into a neat, quiet space that smelled faintly of pine and fresh linen. There was a bed with crisp white sheets, a small desk by the window, and a view of the city skyline under a gray sky. On the desk sat a welcome package — a Dortmund-branded folder with his schedule, some paperwork, and a fresh yellow training top with his name printed across the back.

Thiago sat on the edge of the bed and stared at it. His name. In that font. On that crest.

He didn’t touch it right away.

Later that evening, after Marina had gone to her own room and he’d forced himself to eat some of the room service pasta — too creamy, too bland — Thiago stood by the window with his arms folded. Below, the city moved on without noticing him. He was just a kid in a new place, in a new country, in a sport that chewed up names as fast as it printed them.

But still — he was here. Not as a tourist. Not as a visitor. As a player.

His thoughts drifted to Campinas. João. Clara. His mom. That final hug at the door. The way she’d said "Just play. Just live." She didn’t ask him to win trophies. She didn’t ask him to make millions.

Just live.

He took out his phone. There were already a few texts — Rafael with a simple "Proud of you, irmão," Clara sending a selfie making a dramatic crying face, João with a meme of a kid walking confidently into a classroom with the caption "Thiago entering the Bundesliga locker room."

He smiled. Finally.

Then, just as he put his phone away, a new screen flashed across his vision. One he hadn’t seen in a while.

SYSTEM NOTICE:

Welcome to Germany, Thiago. A new Chapter begins.

New Quest Activated: "Adapt or Fade"

Objective: Secure a place in Dortmund’s matchday squad within 90 days.

Bonus Objective: Score or assist in your first official Bundesliga appearance.

Rewards: ???

Penalties: ???

Thiago blinked at the screen. It had been quiet for a while — ever since the final. But now the System was back. And it wasn’t pulling any punches. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

He didn’t panic.

Instead, he picked up the yellow training shirt. He held it for a while. Then pulled it on.

It fit.

Not just the fabric.

The moment.

He walked back to the window, now dressed in the colors of his new club, and whispered something in Portuguese, just for himself.

"Let’s get this shit started."

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