TWEEEEEEEEEEET!

  A Larken player launched the ball from the baseline, a high-arching serve that dipped into the Divers' backcourt.

  The reserve defender absorbed the impact. She popped the pass up, and instantly, the blue jerseys surged forward. The synchronized attack ignited. Himeko, Jules, and Efbi all charged the net at the same tempo.

  Sasha Sinnott stood deep, her eyes locked onto Willow Vance's feet. She caught the subtle pressure Willow placed on her heels. The tell was microscopic, yet Sasha's strategic brain registered the result instantly.

  The ball was heading for Jules.

  Sasha tore across the court. She arrived at the pin just as Jules exploded off the floorboards. Sasha threw her hands up, sealing the angle. Jules met the ball with a thunderous swing, trying to blast through the captain's hands. The raw power of the spike forced Sasha’s arms back, the leather ricocheting upward instead of down. A soft block.

  The Larken libero scrambled to keep the deflection alive. Sasha landed hard, her momentum carrying her into a tumbling roll across the varnish.

  Himeko Nakamura watched the play unfold. She saw Sasha on the floor, tangled in her own limbs. She's done for this rally, Himeko thought. Her focus shifted to the other Larken spiker who was already preparing an approach. Himeko moved to track the healthy target.

  Sasha Sinnott clawed at the hardwood, using the energy of her roll to vault herself back into a crouch. Her sneakers barked as she found traction. She sprinted from her awkward, broken position, charging the net as if nothing had happened.

  The Larken setter pushed the ball toward the gap. Sasha launched. Jules, still recovering from her own landing, tried to throw a hand up in a clumsy scramble.

  Sasha ripped her arm through the air. The ball screamed past Jules's reaching fingers and buried itself in the Port Osea floor.

  5-6.

  The Larken server struck again. Sarah Lemear handled the reception, passing high to the center.

  Sasha watched the play unfolded. She knew Willow would seek the path of least resistance. Since Sasha was anchoring the left side, the logic dictated a set to her opposite direction - the far right, to Efbi.

  Sasha abandoned her post, leaving it completely empty, sprinting the full width of the court before the ball even touched Willow's fingers.

  As Willow finally set the ball; Sasha had already arrived. She launched in front of Efbi just as the hitter made contact.

  Thwump.

  Another soft block. Sasha's hands deadened the spike, sending the ball ballooning high into the rafters.

  "Again!" Sasha gasped.

  Sasha spent no second watching the ball. She pivoted on her heel, her lungs burning fuel, and sprinted all the way back to her original position on the right.

  Himeko Nakamura's eyes widened. The sight of the Larken captain traversing the entire court twice in ten seconds was mesmerizing. It felt like The Flash trying to save two people on opposite ends of the Earth, one at a time. Himeko bit on the movement, her body reflexively following the highest threat level. She shuffled toward Sasha's destination.

  Roa, the Larken setter, saw the Divers' block drifting toward her captain. She turned her wrists inward.

  She pushed the ball to the opposite side.

  A Larken hitter caught the set. She snapped her wrist, driving a sharp crosscut spike past the lone, late block of Efbi.

  The leather struck the floorboards clean.

  TWEEEEEEEEET!

  6-6. The score was equalized.

  The roar of the home crowd boomed, yet inside the boundary lines, the sound of Sasha Sinnott's breathing was getting louder.

  Her hands met the floorboards on the landing and stayed there.

  Sasha lay on all fours, her head hanging between her shoulders. Her chest heaved in spasms, her ribs looking ready to snap from the pressure. Sweat pooled on the varnish beneath her face, dripping from her nose in a steady rhythm.

  Her teammates gathered around, their expressions filled with genuine fear. They reached out, hands hovering over her jersey, unsure if they should help her up or call for a medic.

  TWEEEEEEEET!

  The referee pointed his finger toward the baseline. Service right, Larken.

  The sound of the whistle awakened Sasha again. Her fingers curled, digging into the hardwood. With a pained grunt, she forced her trembling legs to straighten. She stood up, staggering for a second before locking her knees.

  She swiped a sleeve across her face and walked to her position, ignoring the concerned stares of her teammates.

  The Silvereye server eyed the Divers' setter. She tossed and drove the leather straight at Willow's chest, a classic tactic to disrupt the brain of the team.

  Willow let out a tiny, panicked squeak, her hands flying up in a protective reflex. The ball popped off her palms, wobbling high and awkward toward the middle of the court.

  Himeko and Jules were already shifting for the sync attack, but the rhythm was broken. Sarah Lemear reacted first. The veteran hitter stepped in, taking the role of the playmaker. She delivered a surprisingly smooth, standard pass over to Jules on the left pin.

  The unconventional sequence caught Larken off guard. Sasha, her legs feeling like concrete pipes, tried to pivot. She was a heartbeat slow, her muscles refusing to snap with their usual urgency. Jules saw the opening and hammered the ball down into the seam Sasha usually would have closed.

  TWEEEEEEEEEET!

  7-6. The Divers took the lead. Himeko rotated to the back court, picking up the ball for her turn to serve.

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  Himeko sent a driving float across the net. The Larken libero handled it with a shaky reception, but it reached Roa's hands.

  "Sasha!" Roa cried out.

  Sasha Sinnott dragged herself through the approach. Every step looked painful. She launched herself into the air, meeting the set at the apex. Efbi and Jules rose together, four hands constructing a solid barricade. She closed her eyes and punched through the block with every remaining ounce of her raw strength.

  The ball blasted through the Divers' hands, scoring the side-out (side-out mean you receive the serve back).

  TWEEEEEEEEEEEET!

  7-7. Sasha landed and immediately folded, clutching her knees. Lisa Denire stood at the sideline with the paddle, swapping in for Himeko.

  ...

  Himeko walked to the bench. She sat down, her own chest heaving a bit. She cracked the seal on a water bottle, draining half of it in one go, then wiped her mouth, looking at the scoreboard.

  "Coach... aren't you going to call a timeout?" Himeko asked Elena who was sitting next to her. "Sasha is picking up the pace. We need to reset."

  Elena Vance didn't even look up from her clipboard. She was watching the court from the corner of vision with a detached gaze.

  "I don't need to call anything, Himeko," Elena said quietly. "The game is already over."

  Himeko blinked. "What? The score is tied."

  "Doesn't matter," Elena replied. A shadow of pity crossed her face as she watched the Larken side. "Sasha has an incredible mind, maybe even a better on-court than mine. But she's trying to take everything on her own shoulders. She's shielding her teammates, doing their work, their thinking."

  Elena tapped the side of her head.

  "Her stamina isn't the problem. The problem is her tricks are running out. Our girls are smart, Himeko. They're watching her, learning her tells. Every miracle she performs just gives us more data to exploit. By the time we hit point seventeen, she'll have nothing left to hide, and no legs to run with."

  Himeko looked back at the hardwood.

  The image was jarring.

  In the center of the court, Sasha Sinnott was breaking down in real time. She was panting, shoulders heaving, sweat dripping onto the floor in a puddle.

  And standing around her were her teammates. They were almost in optimal conditions, jerseys barely damp, eyes wide with concern as they watched their captain die for them. They wanted to help, but Sasha had trained them to stay quiet and wait for her orders.

  The scoreboard flickered: 11–13. A fragile lead for the home team.

  Himeko Nakamura stepped onto the court, her sneakers gripping the varnish with a familiar bite. She adjusted her jersey and looked across the net.

  Sasha Sinnott stood at the three-meter line. Her jersey was completely dark with sweat, clinging to her ribs as they labored for air. Her teammates stood around her, their green kits bright and suspiciously dry.

  Himeko remembered Jennifer Annista. That day in Nordvic, she'd been pushing past her limits just like this. Every jump had felt like her last. But even when her legs turned to stone, Himeko had been part of a living machine. She had Jules’s fire, Sarah's reliable expertise, and Willow's vision to carry the offensive load.

  Sasha had nothing.

  ...

  The next rally ignited.

  The Silvereye setter pushed the ball toward the center. Sasha began her approach. She tried to sell the fake, tried to force her body into that deceptive sprint. But her knees buckled for a split second. The max effort required to lie to a star blocker had evaporated.

  Himeko ignored the heavy shuffle and stayed anchored in the middle. When Sasha finally swung, desperate to salvage the play, Himeko's hands were already there, waiting in the exact path of the ball.

  BOOM.

  A clean roof block. The ball struck the floorboards before Sasha could even land.

  12–13.

  [FAST READING START]

  Larken served. Lisa dug it with a shrug. The Divers surged forward in their synchronized wave. Himeko, Jules, and Sarah all jumped. Sasha, eyes bloodshot and unfocused, tried to read the play. She guessed left. Willow set right. Sarah buried it.

  13–13.

  Sasha tried to power through a double block. She channeled every remaining ounce of her will into her right arm. Himeko met her at the summit. She felt the impact, but it lacked the exploiting power of the initial sets. She stiffened her wrists, and the ball ricocheted straight back into Sasha's chest.

  14–13.

  17–14.

  21–15.

  On the final play of the set, Sasha took the set on the right pin. She looked at Himeko's hands, trying to find a way to tool the block, to wipe the leather off the fingers and out of bounds. She turned her wrist at the last moment.

  Himeko saw the arm speed drop showing desperation in Sasha's grip.

  Himeko yanked her hands back. She pulled them away from the net entirely, leaving the sky wide open.

  Sasha's hand slapped the ball. With no hands to deflect off of, the leather sailed into the empty air, flying three feet wide of the sideline.

  "OUT!"

  TWEEEEEEEEEEET!

  "Port Osea Divers! 25-16. Set count 2-1."

  [FAST READING END]

  After landing, Himeko began turning toward her bench.

  Before crossing the sideline, she cast a brief glance back over her shoulder.

  Sasha Sinnott remained on the floorboards, kneeling on one leg in the center of the court. She stared blankly at the faded varnish, completely drained. Her teammates stood in a loose circle around her, their jerseys dry, faces clean of sweat. They watched their fallen captain with helpless eyes, an unbridgeable chasm separating the commander from her troops.