The air inside the HSV II training ground was sharp with turf and cold steel.
Julian stepped through the gates still wearing his new jersey — the white and blue of Hamburg glinting under the morning sun.
"Gather!"
The command cracked across the pitch like a whip.
Coach Soner's voice — deep, commanding — rolled through the air.
Within seconds, the players closed in — a mix of faces, builds, and attitudes.
Some curious.
Some dismissive.
Some already judging.
Soner folded his arms, gaze sweeping the group. "Listen up. We've got a new face joining us."
He turned, chin lifting slightly toward Julian.
Julian took one step forward.
Eyes locked ahead.
Posture straight.
Voice clear.
"My name's Julian Ashford. I came from America to play football. Forward."
For a moment — silence.
Then — a low chuckle broke through the line.
One player smirked, elbowing another.
An American striker.
Probably thinking of hand-egg, not football.
Julian caught it.
