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Set outside.
Our block gets hands on it.
Ball ricochets.
Chaos.
Bodies everywhere.
The rally stretches.
Dig.
Cover.
Reset.
Tip.
Pancake save.
Another reset.
The point won’t die.
It keeps going and going and going until the entire arena is living inside one breath.
Then their outside takes a cut cross-court.
I read it.
Move.
Platform out.
Pass perfect.
Our setter pushes it fast to the pin.
I’m there.
Up.
The block closes late.
I see the seam.
And I bury it.
The ball hits floor with a crack.
Whistle.
Then—
nothing.
For one impossible half-second, everything in the world goes still.
