This is the story of a boy named Porus.

Although the cold starts all over Europe in mid-September, southern Germany, particularly, begins to be shrouded in the fog. One of these areas is the city of Munich. A 17-year-old boy with a reddish-white complexion, light brown eyes, and an energetic body ran on a mountain path. He hid his dark brown hair in a sports-style hat.
The boy, named Porus, mother's only child, was a German citizen of Pakistani descent. His father joined his Almighty creator in a plane crash just a few days before he was born. His father suggested his name from the time he received the news of his wife's pregnancy. After Raja Porus of Gujarat, his native city, he wanted to name his child, credited a legendary warrior with exceptional skills. His mother fulfilled this wish. His father was very interested in history. His mother tried her best to make Porus interested in literature, history, and philosophy, just like his father. But Porus wasn't interested in getting educated formally at all. He wanted to be a footballer. He had said goodbye to education after studying only compulsory school. He was obsessed with playing football since childhood. His only dream was to, one day, play football for the German national team.
His middle-aged mother always encouraged him to make this dream come true, but practically she couldn't help much due to poverty. Both mother and son lived in a small village near Munich. At the age of eleven, he started playing regularly for a small club in Munich, and every other day after school, he would travel by bus and train to his club. When he started training by travelling for two hours in four different public means of transport every day, all the journey fatigue would go. Nothing in the world gave him more pleasure than stumbling on a football with his left foot. After training for three hours with the players of different ages in that club, he would return home at nine o'clock in the evening. After spending about eight hours in this process, he always thought of a suitable solution to his travelling problem before going to bed at night.

As soon as he finished school, he volunteered for the German government's Social Service. He was given two options by the authorities to serve the army for one year or serve humanity. His mother wanted her son to do humanity-service in their village instead of serving in the military. Perhaps her Turkish mother had no idea of her in-law's army that possesses tremendous power and wealth. Otherwise, she would insist on her son being permanently enlisted in the military so that she can terrorize the people on the streets: Don't you know that I am the mother of an army officer? As often happens in Pakistan. His task was delivering groceries to the homes of many elderly, sick, and blind people in the same mountainous village.

Meanwhile, he has been giving trials to various big clubs in Munich for a long time. Everyone said they would contact him if needed. But he never received a positive response.
He had been jogging around this particular castle every Sunday. Even today, as usual, his stamina began to faint at a distance of only three kilometres from the destination. He wondered what to do next. There was nothing healthy in the restaurant uphill in the morning that could meet one athlete's body's needs, and he couldn't afford to sit in the restaurant anyway. So, he decided to return, as usual. He noticed on his watch that he had run twenty kilometres in two hours. Satisfied with his performance, he began to walk back in a relaxed manner. There was fog everywhere.
He realized a heavy bike was coming from afar, loaded with two people. Dressed in black leather, they both wore helmets. He felt that a girl was driving the heavy bike while the boy was sitting in the back, but when the boy felt slightly shorter than the girl, he became confused.