The sun dipped lower as training wrapped up, the final whistle cutting through the humid air.
Players broke off into groups, some stretching, others hydrating, but the energy in the session lingered—something was different today, and they all felt it.
Izan wiped the sweat from his forehead, exhaling as he glanced around. His mind still buzzed with the sensation from earlier—the sharpened awareness, the seamless interplay, the way everything just clicked.
Lamine and Nico were still talking about it.
"I'm serious," Lamine muttered, shaking his head. "That didn't feel normal. It felt like—" He hesitated, struggling to find the right words.
"Like a game where we've already played together a hundred times," Nico finished. He gestured vaguely. "Like we skipped the 'figuring each other out' part."
Izan leaned against the barrier near the sideline, watching their expressions. They weren't wrong.
This wasn't just chemistry—it was something deeper, something structured but effortless.
