It was one of those perfect summer mornings that felt almost too good to be real.

A day off from training. With feelings that hovered somewhere between vague contentment and that familiar hollow ache, he wandered the streets. The sky stretched endlessly blue above him, undeniably beautiful, but after staring at it for so long, he wasn't really sure what beauty meant anymore.

He walked through Barcelona's winding streets, cap pulled low over his distinctive white hair. Essential camouflage—otherwise people would recognize him in seconds.