The feet were stomping.Not with joy—but with panic.
Fans cried. Not tears of victory. Not even anger.Just silence and confusion.
Their signs sagged in their hands. Painted faces blurred by rain and sadness.
"Is this the end of Radim Dziky?" someone whispered from the crowd.
That one question was enough. It passed from voice to voice, growing louder, darker.A rumor turned wildfire.Radim had vanished.
And no one knew why.
Racova checked her phone, standing alone at the edge of the dirt road.
'Radim hasn't been seen in two days.''Left the field early.''No updates from the coach.'
The messages flashed by like static.
She rolled her eyes. "Why is this even a thing?" she muttered.
But deep down, she knew exactly why. He wasn't the type to make a scene. Radim Dziky didn't throw tantrums or blame the team. He just… disappeared.
She'd seen him like this once before. Quiet. Cold. Edging toward giving up.
And she had a sinking feeling about where he'd go.
The bridge loomed in the distance—old, rusted cables stretching across a drop of wind and fog. A relic from before the village was even on a map.
And there, standing at the edge, was Radim.
Motionless.
Staring.
His hair whipped by the wind, his fists clenched by his sides.
Racova didn't wait.
She walked straight onto the bridge, boots slamming into the wood. "Radim!" she shouted, voice sharp as a whistle.
He didn't look back.
She stopped a few meters behind him. "You planning to do something stupid?" Her voice was blunt, steady. No emotion, just truth.
Radim didn't speak. Didn't move.
"You think it's over because you missed a shot? Because you let people down?" she asked. "You think that's a reason to quit?"
Still nothing.
She stepped closer. "Okay. Fine. Don't talk. Just listen."
She crossed her arms. "Do you want to play more football?"
Finally, he twitched. A glance over his shoulder. A flicker of something in his eyes.
"It's not going to be easy," she said. "Not after this. Everyone's watching. Everyone's already made up their minds."
She stared at him. "But we can shut them up. Not with words—with work. It'll be harder than ever."
Radim turned fully now. Face pale. Lips tight. He looked exhausted.
"But it'll be worth it," she finished.
Silence stretched between them.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
And took a step away from the edge.
Racova didn't smile. She didn't say "I told you so." She just turned and walked off the bridge.
After a few seconds, she heard footsteps behind her.