"Listen to me! We switch to the B5 formation on transition! We overload the seam!"

  Coach Elena's marker squeaked violently against the whiteboard, drawing jagged arrows that looked like a battle plan for a war zone. She was speaking a mile a minute, her hair escaping her bun.

  "They are heavy on the wings, so we punish the middle! If Lompo commits, we swing wide! If he stays, we dump! Do not let them breathe!"

  Elena looked at her players. Their chests were heaving, their jerseys saturated, faces flushed with the exertion of trying to keep up with the Men's Champions. The scoreboard read 2-0 in sets for the Dragons, a result that, on paper, looked like total domination.

  But Elena Vance felt a swelling, burning pride in her chest that she struggled to suppress.

  Sixteen points. They had scored sixteen points in a single set against the Victoria Dragons. They landed punches. They had forced Damian to think. They had forced Caeser to respect their block. They were fighting giants, and they were making the giants bleed for every inch.

  Divers were evolving in real-time.

  "You are doing incredible work. But we are not here for a participation trophy. We are here to steal a set. Go out there and take it."

  Himeko lifted the collar of her jersey, wiping the sweat from her upper lip. Her lungs burned heat, but her mind was cold. She took a deep breath, glancing across the gap between the benches.

  Her eyes landed on Kevin.

  He was standing near the baseline, watching the Divers' huddle. And he looked... happy, a quiet and satisfied expression.

  It stirred a strange feeling in her heart.

  On the Dragons' bench, the atmosphere had shifted. The raucous laughter and teasing from the first set were mellowed down, filled with mostly the heavy breathing of athletes who had been forced to work on a holiday.

  Caeser sat heavily, pouring water over his head. He looked over at Himeko across the court, shaking his head with genuine disbelief.

  "That Number 7," Caeser muttered, wiping water from his eyes. "She's actually insane."

  "Mhmm?" Damian massaged his wrists, his face stoic as always, the only thing that said he worked hard was the amount of sweat on his face.

  Kevin, who had been listening silently, stood up. He adjusted his kneepads. He reached out and tapped the shoulder of the spiky-haired wing spiker, who was panting harder than he should.

  "I'm back in, Spiky."

  Spiky let out a long exhale of relief, slumping back against the bench.

  The whistle blew.

  The Divers walked back onto the court, their adrenaline spiking as they saw the substitution.

  Kevin Marvant was walking to the service line.

  A collective wave of unease washed over the women. The memory of the first set - his serves, Lisa being blown off her feet was still fresh in their minds. The “normal” Victoria Dragons, yes, they can play up to their standards, but with Kevin Marvant, the story completely flipped.

  Yet, nobody looked away. Sarah Lemear tightened her ponytail. Jules clenched her fists. Even the substitute players' gazes were unwavering. Terrified they were, but they were defiant.

  Kevin stood at the line, holding the ball against his hip.

  He looked straight through the net, locking eyes with Himeko.

  ...

  Every noise in the world erased, the world turned grey except for two red and deep blue jerseys across the net.

  "And what if I don't care about being realistic? What if I'm willing to waste all of that time on you?"

  "No one... should ever spend that much time on a stranger."

  For a second, they were back in Facility B, alone under the harsh lights, caught in the endless loop of "Again."

  His gaze was heavy, carrying a silent message. Show me, Himeko.

  Himeko narrowed her eyes, accepting his challenge. She squared her shoulders, standing tall at the net.

  Bring it.

  Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

  Kevin bounced the ball against the hardwood. This time more than twice.

  He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep, steady breath, before tossing the ball high into the air and beginning his approach.

  Kevin's strides were feather-light, yet every step ratcheted up suspense for the team waiting on the other side of the net.

  Kevin launched himself skyward and swung.

  The reserve libero squeezed one eye shut, bracing herself for an impact that would surely exceed her physical endurance. Unexpectedly, the ball struck the flat of her platform cleanly, arriving completely void of its usual power.

  The ball arrived perfectly in Willow's hands. Instantly, the Divers' offensive engine roared to life; Jules, Sarah, and the reserve hitter surged into their approach steps in unison.

  Jules reached her optimal takeoff spot faster than the rest. She understood the rhythm of Willow's lightning-quick sets better than anyone else on the floor.

  Willow's eyes darted. She saw Davio and Caeser shifting, preparing to construct a wall against the outside. However, she noticed Jules's positioning was unique, slightly tighter, with a distinct angle. Without hesitation, Willow fired a high-velocity shoot set in her direction.

  Jules leaped to meet the ball. At the same instant, Davio and Lompo converged, blotting out the sky with a towering double block. Realizing that the lane for a direct power spike had been completely erased, Jules adjusted in mid-air. Spotting a vulnerability in the shallow front court, she aborted the swing and executed a deft tip, dropping the ball softly into the gap just to the right of Lompo's shoulder.

  The ball cleared the giant's block perfectly. For a split second, it hung in the air, destined to be the opening point for the Divers in this set.

  Pop.

  A hand slid under the ball at the absolute last second. Kevin executed a flawless dig, popping the ball up high and sending it arching perfectly toward the backcourt for Damian.

  Himeko watched from across the net as the ball drifted toward Damian's hands.

  In an instant, four bodies ignited into motion: Caeser, Davio, Lompo, and Kevin. Somehow, this four-man attack pattern felt exponentially more dangerous than it had in the previous set.

  No, Himeko knew exactly why. It was him. It was his presence. She knew the depth of Kevin's true ability, and that knowledge tempered her anticipation with a heavy dose of caution.

  Kevin began his approach to the net with flawless mechanics. His stride was decisive, his body language projecting a powerful, silent command to both Himeko and Damian.

  Come to me.

  Every eye in the gym locked onto Kevin.

  Damian waited for the ball to settle into his hands.

  Himeko sprinted toward Kevin. She knew with absolute certainty that even if Damian had every other option on the court available, the set was going to Kevin. Her eyes widened, focusing intensely. This was her battle.

  The ball touched Damian's fingers, and instantly, he fired it to Kevin.

  Kevin planted his feet hard into the floor and launched himself. Himeko was right there with him, trailing by mere fractions of a second.

  His arm cocked back. Her hands spread wide, fanning out to form the perfect seal.

  This moment was identical to their time in the training facility. It was the same challenge. Just the two of them, suspended in the air, with unspoken communication.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Yet now, everything reset to zero.

  Kevin swung with power. It didn't carry the world-ending force of his serves, but the trajectory was wicked. It cut sharply to the right, completely bypassing her block to slam toward the floor.

  Himeko's face froze in bewilderment, her mind struggling to process what had just happened.

  The ball struck the floor. In Himeko's mind there was no sound.

  TWEEEEEEET!

  "Point Dragons. 1-0."

  Himeko stared at her own hand, her fingers still vibrating slightly from the adrenaline of the jump. Her brow furrowed in confusion.

  Then, her gaze drifted downward to the floor markers, and realization hit her.

  Jules.

  In the private facility, Himeko had been the sole guardian of the net. She had the freedom to drift, to expand, to occupy any space she needed to contain Kevin. But here, she was part of a line. Subconsciously, her body had registered the presence of Jules being to her left when running. Her muscle memory had forced her to shrink her blocking footprint by mere inches to avoid collision.

  Himeko shot a sharp glare across the net, her eyes narrowing as if to accuse him of changing the rules of engagement.

  But deep down, as her nails dug into her palms, she knew it wasn't cheating. It was real-combat volleyball. He had factored in variables that she had been too focused on their 1v1 duel to consider. This wasn't just about them anymore, more to consider about the twelve people on the floor.

  Kevin caught her glare. He formed a smile that was small and entirely unreadable.

  He turned his back, returning to his position.

  Himeko unclenched her fist, exhaling sharply through her nose. She wouldn't make that mistake again. She returned to the net, centering herself.

  Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Kevin stood at the service line, bouncing the ball in a melodic rhythm against the floorboards.

  He tossed the ball high. The approach was identical to the previous play: fluid, powerful, anxiety-inducing. He launched himself into the air, drawing back his arm. The Divers braced for the nuclear.

  Yet Kevin softened his contact again. He struck the ball with a controlled, surprisingly soft topspin.

  The reserve libero, her confidence slowly rebuilding, read the speed perfectly. She stepped in, creating a solid platform.

  Pop.

  The ball floated high and clean, a perfect arc dropping right onto the setter's sweet spot.

  Willow Vance leaped. As she suspended herself in the air, the world slowed into tactical geometry. She felt the hunger radiating from both sides of her. On the left wing, Sarah Lemear was already accelerating, her veteran eyes locked on the ball. On the right, Jules was coiled, begging for the set.

  Willow's eyes flicked. Jules had a double block forming in her periphery. Sarah, however, had the better angle of approach and a split-second head start on the transition.

  Decision made.

  Willow's hands absorbed the ball and fired it instantly to the left pin. Sarah was already in the air.

  She reached the peak of her jump, her arm drawn back for the kill.

  Kevin rose to meet her, his arms positioned with calculated intent, completely sealing off her left side – yet leaving her right side suspiciously wide open. It looked as if he didn't want to stuff block her, but rather guide her.

  Sarah's veteran instincts flared a warning. In the split second before her hand contacted the ball, her eyes flicked to the "open" space Kevin offered.

  There, crouched low and perfectly balanced in the deep cross-court angle, was the Dragons' libero. He was waiting.

  Gravity waited for no one. Sarah had committed to the swing, and with her primary lane sealed by the MVP, she had no choice. She gritted her teeth and snapped her wrist toward the right, hitting exactly where they wanted her to hit.

  The ball sailed cleanly past Kevin's block and flew straight into the libero's platform.

  He absorbed the pace of the attack with a shrug, cushioning the ball into an arc that drifted effortlessly toward the center of the net.

  Attack transition.

  Himeko's eyes narrowed instantly, shifting from the dig to the setter. She needed to find Damian. She needed to track the counter-attack.

  But as she stepped forward to read the play, the light went out.

  Lompo thundered toward the net drifted directly into Himeko's line of sight. He stopped inches from the net, his massive shoulders and broad chest forming a literal wall of meat that eclipsed everything behind him.

  Himeko craned her neck, trying to see over him, around him. But Lompo was a skyscraper. He completely obstructed her view of Damian's hands and erased Kevin from her visual field entirely.

  She shuffled aggressively to the left, trying to clear the obstruction. Lompo mirrored her instantly, stepping with her, his movements too quick for his size. He was actively denying her the information she needed to survive.

  Bop.

  The sound of the ball dropped into Damian's palms.

  Himeko pushed hard, finally outrunning Lompo's shadow just enough to catch a glimpse of the backcourt.

  She saw a flash of red. Kevin's body was leaning hard to the left.

  Himeko bit on the visual, committing to the direction Kevin's body was heading.

  But in the exact moment she committed, Kevin shifted his weight violently in the opposite direction. He cut back against the grain, ghosting into the gap between Himeko and the sideline. He leaped into the air, untouched.

  Damian fired a flash, low set to the gap.

  Kevin met the ball. Zero blocker to meet him. Himeko stunned in her approach.

  Kevin snapped his wrist, sending the ball to no-man-land.

  BAM!

  The ball struck the floorboards before Himeko could even turn her head. One single clean kill from the MVP.

  "2-0! Point Dragons!"

  Himeko ground her teeth together as she landed.

  She looked down at her feet, then at Jules standing inches to her left, then at Sarah rotating into the back row.

  In the vacuum of Facility B, she had been a singular entity, free to move, adapt, and occupy space as she saw fit. But here, in the clutter of a 6v6 match, her own teammates had become unintentional obstacles.

  Conversely, across the net, the dynamic was inverted. Kevin's teammates were his amplifiers, making him increasingly more annoying to deal with. They were weaponizing their super ace.

  The scoreboard accelerated, ticking upward with merciless rhythm.

  3-0.

  Damian jumped, his posture screaming a set to the outside to Kevin. Himeko bit hard, shuffling to close the block. At the last microsecond, Damian stiffened his wrist and dumped the ball over the net. Himeko froze, caught on her heels, watching the ball drop.

  7-0.

  A chaotic rally ensued. Himeko found herself part of a triple block against Kevin. It should have been a fortress. But Kevin saw Himeko was in the middle, flanked by the shorter Jules and the inexperienced reserve hitter. He ignored Himeko entirely. He swung hard and flat, aiming specifically for the reserve hitter's outside hand. The ball ricocheted off the weaker blocker's fingers and flew into the stands.

  11-1.

  The Divers managed to score a point only because Davio slipped on a wet spot during his approach, sending a free ball over that Sarah crushed.

  14-1.

  Caeser attacked. Himeko blocked, stuffing the ball back down. But the Dragons covered it instantly. Before Himeko could even land and reset her feet for a second jump, Kevin was already in the air. He attacked the tempo gap, spiking the ball just inches from Himeko's descent.

  The 50% success rate she had fought so hard for in training had evaporated.