The cold Munich air felt like it punched straight through Briana's jacket. She stepped out of the station, dragging her old duffel bag behind her. Her breath fogged in front of her face as she looked up at the massive complex across the street.
Bavaria Monarchs Training Center.
Her new home.
Her new battlefield.
She adjusted her braids, tugged the strap on her bag, and whispered to herself in Russian,
"Let's start over, Briana."
The gates slid open when she approached, sensors detecting her presence. She didn't expect the inside to look so… futuristic. Glass buildings. Sun-reflecting steel. Players in navy tracksuits jogging across the courtyard like a scene out of a sports commercial.
Her footsteps echoed as she entered the main hall. Trophies lined the walls — league titles, European medals, youth accolades. She stared at them for a little too long.
"Grankina?"
The voice cut through everything.
She turned.
A tall man with silvering hair and a hard expression approached her with a clipboard tucked under one arm.
"I'm Coach Baumann," he said, eyes sharp as knives. "You're late."
"I'm… five minutes early," Briana replied carefully.
He didn't blink.
"I expect players to arrive with the hunger to work. Not on time — early. Follow me."
Great. First minute in Germany and she already annoyed her coach.
They walked through pristine hallways until they reached the U21 training pitch — a world-class field under a glass ceiling. Players were already stretching.
Every head turned toward her.
Some curious.
Some uninterested.
Some sizing her up like a threat.
"Team," Baumann announced, "this is Briana Grankina, your new striker."
A few whispers spread —
"She's the Russian one?"
"She looks strong as hell."
"Is she replacing Heike?"
Then a girl stepped forward.
Tall. Blonde. Sharp jawline. Eyes like she already knew everything.
Heike Möller — the Monarchs' U21 ace striker.
She looked Briana up and down.
"You look small for a striker."
"I'm not," Briana answered calmly.
Heike stepped closer, voice low.
"Listen carefully. This team doesn't need tourists or projects. If you get in my way, I'll run you over."
Briana met her stare without flinching.
"I don't plan to get in your way. I plan to take your spot."
A few teammates gasped.
Someone muttered, "Oh damn…"
Coach Baumann clapped once.
"Warm up! I want to see her skill level now."
The team scattered, but Briana's heartbeat raced.
Everything she dreamed about was now staring her in the face — and ready to crush her.
She stretched quickly, ignoring the glances thrown her way.
Then training started.
And reality hit hard.
Passing drills were too fast.
Movement patterns too strict.
Ball speed ridiculous.
She chased the tempo but kept falling a step behind.
"Grankina, react!"
"Your touch is too heavy!"
"Open your body — not your hips!"
Her lungs burned as she sprinted into position.
Samy Becker, a small thick-legged winger, jogged past with a grin.
"Don't worry, girl. Coach yells at everyone. Even the grass."
Briana laughed weakly. "I'm not used to this pace."
"That's fine. Just don't die."
Then scrimmage started.
She received her first pass — bad touch.
Second — intercepted.
Third — tackled clean.
"Read the defense!" Alina Weiss shouted from midfield, icy calm.
"You move like you're in a street match, not a system."
Briana gritted her teeth. "I am trying."
"Try smarter," Alina said, already turning away.
Then came the moment.
A tight 3v3 rondo.
Briana trapped between defenders.
Pressure closing fast.
Her heartbeat jumped.
Suddenly—
The noise faded.
The field slowed.
Her vision tightened into one glowing line.
A gold flicker flashed across her eyes.
Her body reacted before she could think.
She turned—space opened—pass completed.
Everyone froze for a second.
Even Heike narrowed her eyes.
Briana blinked, confused.
"What… was that?"
Coach Baumann watched her silently, something calculating behind his stare.
Training ended with Briana sweating, exhausted, but refusing to collapse.
Heike passed by her, whispering,
"Enjoy your first day. The next ones won't be easier."
Briana didn't answer.
She just looked up at the Monarchs logo on the wall — a golden lion's head.
This was where she would rise.
Or break.
Either way… she was ready.