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... ght with it a strange kind of silence.

Not the peaceful kind. The kind that hums beneath your skin, making you feel like something is missing. Like the ground beneath your feet hasn't quite caught up with the reality around you.

Niels stood by the touchline, hands buried deep in the pockets of his jacket, staring out at the empty pitch. Training had wrapped up an hour ago, but he hadn't moved.

The players were gone. The drills were over. The echoes of laughter and shoutin ...

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