The conversation with Arsène Wenger changed everything for Niklas Brandt. Within forty-eight hours both Bukayo Saka and Emile Smith Rowe had agreed to join Hamburger SV. The paperwork was signed quickly and quietly.
Unai Emery tried everything to stop it. He called the families personally. He spoke to the boys late into the night. He even made public statements about loyalty and the Arsenal project. But the documents were already done. The boys had made their choice.
Emery sat alone in his office at London Colney the day the news broke. His face looked tired and heavy. He had believed in those two boys. He had watched them train with the first team and seen their future in red and white.
Now they were gone to a second-division club in Germany. The man who had just taken over Arsenal felt the sting of it deeply. He stared at the training pitches outside and shook his head. Disappointment sat heavy on his shoulders.
In Hamburg the mood was completely different. Niklas stood in the newly renovated training center with a fresh squad list in his hands. The last wave of signings had come through in the final days of the window.
Alexander Isak arrived from Borussia Dortmund after struggling for minutes. Khvicha Kvaratskhelia flew in from Georgia, still only seventeen but already showing flashes of magic on the left wing. Jude Bellingham joined from Birmingham, a sixteen-year-old with a mature head and strong legs. Aurélien Tchouaméni came from Bordeaux, bringing power and control in midfield. Bukayo Saka and Emile Smith Rowe landed from Arsenal. Pedri arrived from Las Palmas, a tiny Spanish magician who could dictate games with one touch.
The squad felt complete now. Niklas pinned the full first-team list on the big board in the meeting room. The young Dutch coaches gathered around it. Jansen stood beside him, arms crossed, nodding slowly.
Starting eleven in a 4-2-3-1 formation:
Diogo Costa in goal.
William Saliba and Joško Gvardiol as the center-backs.
Jurriën Timber at right-back.
Alphonso Davies at left-back.
Aurélien Tchouaméni and Pedri in the double pivot.
Dominik Szoboszlai in the number ten role.
Khvicha Kvaratskhelia on the left wing.
Bukayo Saka on the right wing.
Erling Haaland up front.
The substitutes bench looked just as strong: Manuel Akanji, Rick van Drongelen, Josha Vagnoman, Patric Pfeiffer, Jude Bellingham, Vitinha, Emile Smith Rowe, Alexander Isak, and Jann-Fiete Arp.
Niklas stepped back and looked at the board for a long time. The average age of the starting eleven was barely twenty. The whole squad felt alive with potential. He could already picture how they would press, how they would move the ball quickly, how they would overwhelm teams that still played the old German way.
The training session that afternoon showed the difference. Haaland powered through defenders like they were not there. Saliba and Gvardiol won every aerial duel. Davies and Timber overlapped with speed and confidence. Saka cut inside from the right with sharp dribbles. Smith Rowe linked play with clever passes. Pedri and Tchouaméni controlled the middle like they had been playing together for years. The young players shouted to each other in a mix of languages, but they understood the language of the game.
Fans outside the training ground had started gathering every day. Some still laughed and called it the "Kindergarten Dinosaur." Others had begun to believe. Local papers ran stories about the massive summer spending.
Fourteen million euros from sales plus the eighty million on transfers and renovations had turned into one of the most expensive second-division squads ever assembled. People argued in pubs whether it was genius or madness.
Niklas walked along the side of the pitch after training. The new grass smelled fresh. The hotel next door was full with players eating proper meals and doing recovery work. Music played from the gym where fitness tests were still running. Laughter came from the canteen. The atmosphere felt electric.
Jonas joined him on the touchline. "The boys are settling in fast. Saka and Smith Rowe already look comfortable. Davies is teaching everyone keep-up tricks in the dressing room."
Niklas nodded. "Good. We need them to feel at home. This is not just a team. It is a group that grows together."
He still had one small worry. The right and left wing of the pitch looked a little thin. Timber and Davies were solid, but the attacking options on that flank needed more depth.
Saka and Kvaratskhelia were brilliant, but if they got tired or injured, there was no natural replacement with the same spark. Niklas kept repeating the words to himself as he watched the session end. "Right and left wing. Right and left wing. Right and left wing."
Then an idea came to him.
He turned to Jonas. "We need two more players before the window shuts. Utility players with experience on both wings. I know exactly who I want to get."
Jonas raised an eyebrow. "Who?"
"Galeno of Porto, and Moussa Diaby of PSG."
Jonas laughed in surprise. "That won't be easy given the time left."
"I know," Niklas said. "But we have to try. Maybe a loan or a short-term deal. They can add quality depth on both wings."
That evening Niklas sat in his office reviewing the final roster one more time.
Goalkeepers:
Diogo Costa
Hans-Jörg Butt
Richard Wright.
Defenders:
Saliba
Gvardiol
Akanji
van Drongelen
Timber
Davies
Vagnoman
Pfeiffer.
Midfielders:
Tchouaméni
Pedri
Szoboszlai
Bellingham
Vitinha
Forwards:
Haaland
Isak
Arp
Kvaratskhelia
Saka
Smith Rowe.
It looked strong. But the wings still nagged at him. The window was almost closed. The squad was finally complete.
Back at the training center that night, the young players were still on the pitch doing extra work. Haaland and Isak competed in finishing drills. Saka and Smith Rowe practiced one-twos with Szoboszlai. Davies flew down the left wing with pure joy. The lights shone bright over the new grass.
Niklas stood in the shadows and watched them. The first competitive match of the season was only days away. He took a deep breath and allowed himself one quiet thought.