The gymnasium was split down the middle, separated by two different atmospheres.

  On the right, the Victoria Dragons were loose. They bounced on the balls of their feet, slapping backs and cracking jokes. They looked like champions on a holiday.

  On the left, the Port Osea Divers were quiet. The women stood stiffly in their positions, adjusting kneepads and re-tightening ponytails. The excitement was there, burning in their chests, but it was dampened by the sheer scale of the giants standing across from them.

  The referee (coach Elena) blew the whistle for the pre-match lineup.

  Both teams converged at the net. The height difference was jarring. Himeko looked straight ahead, her eyes level with the chest of the opposing middle blocker. She had to crane her neck back to meet Lompo's gaze, who offered her a gentle, almost apologetic nod.

  As the line shuffled forward, Himeko found herself standing in front of Kevin.

  He wasn't smirking now. The playfulness was gone, replaced by a sharp focus she had only seen in the final days of their training. He reached out, enveloping her hand in a firm grip.

  "Best of luck, Captain," Kevin said, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

  Himeko squeezed his hand back, brief and businesslike. "You too."

  They broke contact.

  The teams scattered to their starting rotations. The Divers settled into their defensive stances, crouching low. Himeko stood at the net, watching the service line.

  It was Lompo.

  The giant walked all the way back to the wall, creating maximum runway. He turned to face the court, spinning the volleyball in his hands. Against his massive palms, the regulation-size ball looked absurdly small, like a grapefruit held by a bear.

  Stopping the spin, he took a deep breath, chest expanding like a barrel.

  The gym went silent. Even the Dragons stopped their chatter.

  Lompo tossed the ball.

  It soared high, rotating lazily in the air.

  Lompo took his first step.

  Then he burst into a sprint.

  The floor shook when he planted his feet. He launched himself into the air, his vertical leap terrifying for someone of his bulk. His arm swung through the ball like a sledgehammer.

  BOOM.

  The sound of contact was dry and heavy, like a gunshot. The ball erased the space between Lompo's hand and the Divers' court.

  Before Lisa, the Divers' libero, could even twitch, the ball had arrived.

  It slammed into the floorboards near the sideline with the violence of a meteor impact.

  THWACKKKKKKKKKKKKK!

  The ball struck the varnish with such concussive force that it ricocheted toward the ceiling rafters, spinning wildly.

  But the sound remained.

  The impact reverberated off the steel rafters and the concrete walls.

  One second. Two seconds. Three.

  It hung in the air, vibrating in the chests of everyone present, lingering for a full four or five seconds before finally fading.

  Lisa, the Divers' libero, stood frozen in her ready stance. Her hands were still separated, waiting to form a platform she never had a chance to build.

  Himeko stared at the spot, her eyes, along with every other pair of eyes on the women's side, were blown wide open. That was, without a doubt, the heaviest, fastest serve any of them had ever witnessed in their lives.

  "Point, Dragons!" Coach Elena called out. She pointed firmly to the right side of the court. "1-0."

  As the Divers rotated, Himeko glanced back toward the baseline. Lisa was standing over the place where the ball once was. The libero, usually expressionless and stoic, looked shaken. Her hands were twitching slightly at her sides. But as she looked up, meeting Himeko's gaze, her expression hardened. She slapped her own thighs crack, crack to wake up her nervous system. She narrowed her eyes behind her bangs, dropping into a low stance.

  Himeko closed her eyes and smiled. No matter how hard the challenge posed, Port Osea Divers would never leave until the very last point.

  "Service!"

  Lompo was back at the baseline. He accepted the ball back with a polite nod, his massive hands engulfing it once more. He stepped back, measuring his distance with three long strides.

  The atmosphere on the Divers' side of the court thickened. Every muscle in Himeko's body tensed. Beside her, Jules was bouncing on the balls of her feet, her eyes in extreme focus.

  Lompo stopped. He spun the ball. He tossed.

  For the second time, the giant accelerated. The floorboards shuddered under his weight, he launched himself into the air, his silhouette blotting out the gym lights.

  His arm whipped forward.

  BOOM.

  Identical to the first, a concussive crack that made the listeners flinch instinctively, the ball became a streak of yellow and blue screaming through the air at a velocity that could tear down concrete.

  Lisa threw her body to the left, desperate to get a platform behind it.

  But she didn't need to.

  The ball hissed past her shoulder, missing her by inches, and slammed into the floor just outside the sideline.

  WHAMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

  The impact rocketed off the floor and smashed into the far wall of the gym, rattling a metal ventilation grate before rolling to a stop.

  Silence for a second. Everyone stared at the dent the ball had seemingly tried to put on the grate.

  "Out!" Elena shouted, pointing to the line. "Point, Port Osea Divers!"

  The scoreboard flickered. 1-1.

  A collective exhale rushed out of the Divers, the shaky breath of survivors. No cheers. Just wide eyes and racing hearts.

  On the other side of the net, there was only laughter.

  "Whoa, easy there, big guy!" the spiky-haired spiker yelled from the bench, throwing his hands up. "We don't want to destroy our friend's furniture!"

  Lompo rubbed the back of his neck, his face crumpling into a sheepish, gentle smile that looked out of place on a man who could destroy concrete.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  "Sorry..." he said, bowing slightly to his teammates and then to the other side. "Too... much... power. Sorry."

  Sarah Lemear, the Divers' thirty-two-year-old veteran wing spiker, stepped up to the service line. She bounced the ball twice, exhaling sharply to steady her nerves. She tossed the ball, took her approach, and struck a clean, flat float serve.

  It sailed over the net, dipping slightly.

  The Dragons' libero didn't even flinch. He shuffled one step to the left, dropping his shoulder to absorb the ball with easy perfection. It popped up high and soft, floating gently into Damian's hands at the center of the court.

  Then, the ground shook.

  In unison, four bodies surged into motion.

  From the left, Davio sprinted. Up the middle, Lompo charged like a full-speed train. And on the right, overloading the zone, Caeser and Kevin accelerated together.

  Kevin's face was ice cold, locked onto the net as he approached with overwhelming speed.

  The Divers' defensive line panicked.

  "Opp! Watch opp!" Jules screamed, seeing the double threat of the MVP and the heavy hitter Caeser crashing down on one wing. The Divers' blockers shuffled frantically toward Kevin, biting hard on the intimidation factor.

  But Himeko didn't move.

  She locked her eyes on Damian. She knew his hands. She knew his habits. She had spent two months watching him set thousands of balls. She saw the microscopic hesitation in his wrists, the split-second calculation where he registered the Divers shifting heavily to cover his captain.

  He thinks I will respect the heavy side, Himeko realized.

  Damian's fingers flicked. He fired a shoot set to the left pin.

  To the empty wing.

  Or so he thought.

  As the ball left Damian's hands, Himeko launched. She ignored the threat of Kevin Marvant and sprinted to her right, sliding in front of Davio, the left-winger.

  Davio launched himself into the air. He saw the ball coming perfectly to his hand. He saw the other blockers shifting the wrong way. And then, he saw Himeko rising late to meet him.

  Davio's eyes widened in surprise, but beneath it lay a sheet of arrogance. A solo block? From the Women's League?

  He didn't bother with a cut shot or a tool. He cocked his arm back, intending to blast through her arms with sheer, brute force.

  On the other side of the court, landing from his decoy run, Kevin watched Davio load up his swing. A knowing grin cut across his icy expression.

  It won't work, Davio.

  Davio swung with everything he had.

  THUD.

  The ball hit a wall and died instantly.

  The ball reversed course, crashing straight down onto the Dragons' side of the court, inches from Davio's feet.

  Tweet!

  "Point, Divers!" Elena shouted, pumping her fist. "2-1!"

  The gym went silent for a second, staring at the ball rolling away from the stunned Davio. Then, the Divers' bench erupted.

  "Nice kill!" Jules shouted, slapping Himeko on the back as the starters swarmed her.

  Even Elena, perched on her high chair by the net, lowered her whistle to offer a rare smile of pure pride. The Divers weren't just here to be practice cones for the champions.

  But on the Dragons' side, the mood shifted.

  Davio walked back to his position, shaking his head.

  Caeser stepped in front of Kevin as he retrieved the ball. The hitter placed a hand near Kevin's chest, his voice dropping low, stripped of all banter.

  "Your turn to serve, right?" Caeser said in a serious tone, glancing at the women across the net. "Take it easy, Kevin. Don't hurt anyone."

  Kevin didn't answer. He flashed a tight smile, spun the ball in his hands, and walked to the service line.

  Tap. Tap.

  He bounced the ball against the hardwood twice.

  He looked up. Across the twenty meters of court, his eyes locked onto Himeko. She was watching him with that same unwavering concentration that he had fallen in love with over the last two months. She was ready. Always.

  Good, Kevin thought.

  He tossed the ball.

  It went higher than usual. Much higher.

  Kevin exploded into his approach. His feet ran on pure explosive energy. He launched himself into the air, his body contorting into a perfect arch. Kevin hung in the air a second longer than seemed natural with a form that was undeniably flawless.

  At the peak of his jump, suspended in the rafters, he unleashed.

  BOOOOOOM.

  The sound was different, a sharp, whip-crack snap that sounded like the air itself was being torn apart.

  The ball screamed across the net with a violently swirling top-spin that blurred its colors into a vibrating gray mass. It curved through the air with the unpredictability of a hurricane, hurtling straight toward Lisa.

  The pure raw power radiating from the projectile was intimidating. Every instinct in Lisa's body screamed at her to dive out of the way, to protect her face. Her knees trembled, her eyes widened in primal fear.

  But she was the libero. She remained.

  Gritting her teeth, Lisa forced her feet to plant. She threw her platform out, trying to intercept the missile.

  The ball hit her forearms.

  It spun. Spun. And spun.

  The spin was so vicious, so overwhelming, that it chewed through her technique instantly. The ball exploded off her arms, ricocheting sideways with enough force to shatter a window. It flew wildly off the court, clearing the team bench and smashing into the far wall of the practice facility.

  Lisa fell back onto her butt, staring at her red forearms.

  Himeko stood frozen at the net. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes blown wide.

  He had never shown this.

  Reality crashed down on her. For two months, through all the sweat, the "no mercy" drills, and the grueling repetitions... he had been holding back. He had shown her the elite player, yes. But he had kept the monster, this true, unrivalled power that made him the best player in the world locked away.

  Until now.