The international break is always a strange time for football fans, a pause in the Premier League that feels more like a trap than a blessing.

Players scatter across continents, logging air miles and putting their bodies on the line for national pride, while managers and supporters back home can only wait nervously for news.

Too often, they return not refreshed but depleted — carrying fatigue, knocks, or the scars of disappointment.

And now, as the dust settles ahead of the league’s resumption, both halves of Manchester find themselves staring at the same bleak reality: nervous, uncertain, and frustrated.

Sunday’s Manchester derby at the Etihad was already set up to be an early-season spectacle, a clash heavy with narrative.

But instead of swagger and anticipation, both Manchester City and Manchester United limp toward it with unease.

City, normally so ruthless, have stumbled alarmingly with back-to-back defeats against Tottenham and Brighton.

Guardiola’s machine, built on precision and control, suddenly looks human.

On the other side of town, Ruben Amorim, the new man in the United dugout, has been struggling to steady a listing ship.

His team scraped their first league win of the season against Burnley, but even that fragile triumph came at a cost, with two more players hobbling off injured.

And so here we are: one of the biggest fixtures of the early campaign, with up to 13 players across both clubs facing late fitness tests.

The most painful headline belongs to City.

Omar Marmoush, the Egyptian forward who had only just begun to establish himself under Guardiola, suffered a bruised knee ligament in Egypt’s World Cup qualifier against Burkina Faso.

His collision in the ninth minute looked innocuous at first, but the aftermath was grim.

Egypt’s FA confirmed the injury, and scans from City’s medical staff ruled him out of the derby.

Marmoush may not yet be a superstar, but his energy and movement had given City something fresh.

Losing him, especially now, feels like a cruel twist.

Guardiola’s options grow slimmer by the day.

Rayan Cherki, the flamboyant summer signing from Lyon, has already been sidelined for two months with a thigh injury.

Phil Foden, mysteriously absent against Brighton, remains a doubt.

Savinho, another of the squad’s bright young attacking hopes, is racing against time to be fit.

Suddenly, City’s fabled depth looks stretched to breaking point.

Guardiola, the master planner, is left scanning his whiteboard, scribbling, erasing, and wondering how to stitch together a forward line from the scraps.

United, though, have little reason to smirk.

Amorim’s first Premier League victory brought some relief but also new problems.

Casemiro’s nagging fitness struggles continue to cast a shadow over midfield.

Mason Mount and Diogo Dalot both picked up fresh knocks.

In a derby that demands warriors, Amorim may find himself deprived of some of his most trusted lieutenants.

The anxiety radiates beyond the managers.

For City fans, back-to-back defeats have already pricked holes in the aura of invincibility.

They have seen their side surrender control, appear vulnerable, and now stagger into a derby half-stripped of key players.

For United fans, the mood is equally conflicted.

Amorim was meant to usher in a new era, but injuries and inconsistency have complicated his every step.

The sense of déjà vu — of another season slipping into chaos before it even begins — is hard to shake.

The stakes could not be clearer.

City are already six points behind Liverpool, a dangerous gap so early in the season.

A slip in the derby would deepen the crisis.

United, desperate to prove they belong back among the elite, know that defeat would reignite questions about their direction.

This isn’t just a derby about pride; it’s one with real consequences for the months ahead.

For Guardiola, there is a cruel irony at play.

The man who obsesses over control and detail now finds himself hostage to fate.

One clumsy challenge in Ouagadougou, one awkward landing in training, and the elaborate blueprint collapses.

For Amorim, fresh to English football, this is a baptism of fire.

In Manchester, derbies define managers.

Win, and you earn time, respect, and patience.

Lose, and the pressure multiplies.

To face such a trial with a patched-up squad feels like a test bordering on the impossible.

And yet, derbies rarely care for logic.

That is their allure.

Form, injuries, and narratives often evaporate once the whistle blows.

The city holds its breath because it knows the truth: it takes just one moment, one swing of a boot or slip of concentration, to tilt the entire story.

Maybe Foden is passed fit.

Maybe Rashford rediscovers his spark.

Maybe Haaland, subdued of late, delivers the kind of thunderous display that makes everything else irrelevant.

Still, the fear lingers.

Fear that this won’t be a battle of heavyweights but a scrappy contest of makeshift line-ups.

Fear that City, if beaten again, could spiral into something darker.

Fear that United, still fragile, could unravel under the spotlight.

Both clubs stand on the edge, waiting.

And so Manchester waits too — tense, impatient, braced.

The international break has left its scars, and now the city readies itself for a derby that could define the early season.

Guardiola against Amorim, Haaland against Rashford, patched-up squads against patched-up squads.

No matter who lines up, the world will be watching, because in Manchester, derbies are never just games.

They are storms.

They are statements.

They are survival.