The week unfolded like a silent metronome — training, drills, recovery, repeat.
Each day on the HSV II campus felt sharper, heavier, more deliberate.
Julian's routine had become its own ritual.
Mornings began before the city's pulse — when the air still carried the bite of dew and the sky hung pale over Hamburg's skyline.
The campus stirred awake like clockwork: sprinklers hissing across the training pitch, boots striking the concrete path toward the locker rooms, the faint echo of German chatter blending with the hum of the nearby motorway.
Even the cold steel railings of the facility seemed to hold that clean scent of rain and effort.
Morning — official team sessions under Coach Soner's cold, precise gaze.
Afternoon — one-on-ones.
Fabio for agility. Luis for strength and stamina. Mageed for technique.
Each drill was its own kind of silence.
Sweat blurred into breath. His muscles ached with that quiet satisfaction only growth could bring.
