Connor woke up to the sound of his alarm vibrating against the wooden nightstand, a low buzz that blended with the faint hum of the heating vents. He blinked at the screen: 7:30 AM. The dorm room was still dim, winter light barely creeping through the frosted window. Dylan was snoring softly from the bunk above, and Noah had somehow migrated sideways in his bed again, blankets twisted like seaweed.
Connor rubbed his eyes and sat up, feeling the faint stiffness in his right knee. It wasn't pain. Just… memory. A physical echo of the accident that had changed everything last year.He pushed it aside and whispered to himself:
"Day three. Mixed training. Don't screw it up."
From the corner of the room, a soft ding lit up.
A faint blue hologram flickered against the wall, with clean mechanical lines.
[ SetterOS — MORNING STATUS UPDATE ]
Fatigue Level: 17%Recommended Warm-up: Widened lateral shuffles + dynamic ankle mobility
Daily Mission Available
Connor squinted at it.The blue light always looked colder in the mornings.
"Good morning to you too," he muttered under his breath..
Connor stood, stretched, then lightly nudged Noah's shoulder with his foot.
"Noah. Dude. Wake up. We're gonna be late for breakfast."
Noah groaned dramatically. "Five more minutes."
"Coach West will murder you in two."
"Then six minutes," Noah mumbled and pulled the blanket higher.
Connor sighed, grabbed his sweatshirt, and pulled it over his head. "Fine. Freeze on the court. Your choice."
That worked. Noah sat up instantly. "You're evil."
Dylan climbed down from the top bunk, hair sticking in all directions. "Do we have time to eat?"
"If we run," Connor replied.
Sam was already by the door with his shoes tied, hoodie on, calm as ever. "Breakfast ends at eight. We're fine."
"See? Sam's got our backs," Noah said, slinging an arm around Sam's shoulders. "Connor's just dramatic."
"Why are we friends?" Connor muttered.
"Because you are stuck with us," Dylan said, smirking.
"Unfortunately."
They spilled into the hallway, joining dozens of other athletes heading toward the cafeteria, the hallways buzzing with morning chatter and cold air.
⸻
The cafeteria at the Oregon State Winter Volleyball Intensive was warm, filled with the smell of eggs, roasted potatoes, and coffee strong enough to wake a ghost. Large windows looked out onto the snowy fields of Hood River, where frost covered everything in a pale shimmer.
The Wolves grabbed trays and joined the line.
Malik Price from the Jefferson Eagles zoomed past them with unsettling energy for 7:40 AM.
"GOOD MORNING, WOLVES!" Malik shouted like he was announcing a wrestling match.
Connor flinched. "How does he have that much energy already?"
"It's unnatural," Noah whispered. "Like a cryptid."
Ryota Kim walked behind Malik, quiet, hands in the pockets of his black warm-up jacket. He nodded once at the Wolves, barely, then followed Malik to a table.
Noah froze.
Like actually froze mid-step.
Connor nudged him. "Dude. You okay?"
"He nodded at me," Noah whispered.
"Okay… and?"
"That's Ryota Kim. He doesn't nod at people. He barely nods at his own team."
Connor smirked. "Congratulations. You've been blessed."
"It's like if Buddha high-fived me," Noah murmured reverently.
Dylan snorted. "You're so dramatic."
Noah elbowed him. "You don't understand greatness when you see it."
Connor laughed as they sat, piling food onto their plates. The Cascade Titans arrived shortly after, tall, polished, navy-and-gold tracksuits perfectly clean, like they hadn't even slept in the dorms.
Jake, their captain, walked with natural confidence, scanning the room. Aiden followed behind him, hands in his pockets, sharp eyes taking in everything, opponents, drills boards, even who was eating what.
His gaze flicked toward Connor for a split second. Just long enough to send a message: I see you.
Connor subtly straightened.
Noah leaned closer. "He's staring at you."
"He's staring at everyone," Connor said quickly.
"You're on his radar."
"Shut up."
Dylan nodded sagely. "You definitely are."
Connor stabbed a piece of potato. "I hate you guys."
⸻
Coach West stood near the net, clipboard in hand, auburn hair tied in a tight ponytail. Her whistle hung around her neck like a badge of authority she didn't need to use often, her stare was enough.
"Wolves," she called out as they jogged in. "Court four. Mixed warm-up with the Bears and Phoenix."
Sam blinked. "Already?!"
"We just ate!" Noah complained.
Coach West raised an eyebrow. "You'll survive."
Connor whispered, "Told you."
Warm-up began. Dynamic stretches. Lateral shuffles. Joint mobility. Connor could feel his knee warming, loosening. He focused on every movement.
A faint pulse.A small blue panel appeared near his peripheral vision.
[ SetterOS ]Left ankle mobility: 82% optimal.
Right hip rotation: Slightly limited. Adjust stride by 2°.
Connor adjusted. The movement felt instantly smoother.
He exhaled. Okay. That's actually helpful.
The gym echoed with balls slamming, sneakers squeaking, and coaches shouting instructions.
On court four, players from Northgate Bears and Riverside Phoenix joined the Wolves in defensive drills.
Connor tossed balls for the receivers first. Noah was in zone five, Dylan in six, Sam alternating between blocks.
A coach from Phoenix served powerful floaters. Noah dug the first one cleanly. Then the second.
Then Ryota Kim stepped into the next rotation.
Noah's eyes widened like he had seen a legend entering the arena.
Ryota's posture was calm. Balanced. Almost lazy-looking, until the serve flew.
He moved before anyone else. Not reacting. Anticipating. His forearms angled perfectly. The ball floated upward with such precision it looked staged. Noah's jaw dropped.
Connor quietly said, "Watch his feet."
Noah did. Ryota barely stepped. Efficient. Smooth. Almost too smooth. The libero coach nodded approvingly. "Kim. As usual."
Noah whispered, "I wanna move like that." Connor grinned. "Then focus."
Ryota rotated out, passing by them silently.But Noah caught it, a tiny nod.
The second one today.
Noah nearly combusted on the spot.
⸻
After forty minutes of defensive rotations, Coach West clapped her hands.
"Switch! Setters and hitters , up front!"
Connor jogged forward, wiping sweat from his forehead. Aiden Ross arrived on the opposite side of the net at the same time, Cascade Titans jersey tied around his waist.
Aiden glanced at Connor. Not hostile. Not friendly.A cool acknowledgment.
"Setters! Mixed rotation! You're setting for players from all schools. Work fast, work accurate. No hesitation."
The drill began.
Balls flying in from multiple coaches. Hitters shouting for sets. Chaos, organized chaos.
Connor positioned himself, tracking the first pass.
Aiden caught the ball mid-air from another coach's toss, pivoted, and set a perfect quick to a Northgate middle. The ball slammed the floor like a thunderclap.
Connor felt pressure rise in his chest.
Don't get overshadowed.
He received his first pass tight to the net.He adjusted quickly, pushing the ball into a clean outside set for Dylan.
Dylan swung sharp angle, landing inside the line.
Aiden saw it. His eyes narrowed slightly.
The next sequence was faster.
High balls. Quick balls. Out-of-system balls.
Connor adapted, pushing off his right foot carefully, distributing evenly.
Aiden was relentless precise, clean, almost mechanical in his efficiency.
But Connor wasn't falling behind.
Mid-drill, Connor jumped for a back set.
[ SETTEROS — WARNING ]Load imbalance detected. Reduce weight on right knee by 3%. Adjust landing stance.
Connor barely had time to react, but he shifted his landing slightly, absorbing the impact safely.
He exhaled.
Aiden noticed he glanced quickly, eyes sharp but said nothing.
Another ball came his way instantly.
Connor jumped again.
This time cleaner.
Coach West shouted, "Good adjustment, Blake!"
Connor felt heat rise to his chest, not embarrassment. Pride.
⸻
The next rotation added hitters from all teams.
Which meant, of course, Malik Price sprinted in like a human firecracker.
"SET ME ANYTHING!" he yelled.
Connor blinked. "Anything?"
"LITERALLY ANYTHING!"
A coach tossed a messy pass.Connor chased it, barely getting under it, sending a medium-height ball toward Malik.
Malik launched himself upward like he had rockets instead of legs.
BOOM.The ball hit the floor before Connor even finished landing.
Malik fist-pumped. "YEAAAAH! I LOVE THIS CAMP!"
Connor laughed. "Dude, what are you made of?"
"PASSION!" Malik shouted.
Noah whispered from behind, "And caffeine."
Aiden set to him next.The ball came off his hands faster, tighter.Malik hammered it again, screaming.
The set was beautiful, Aiden gave Malik the kind of tempo he could fly on.Connor felt a twinge of admiration… and rivalry.
Aiden looked over briefly.
Subtle smirk .Challenge accepted.
⸻
After two hours, sweat dripping, muscles burning, they moved into mini-scrimmage rotations. Three teams on three courts, fast matches to five points.
Wolves, Eagles, and Titans rotated on the same court.
Connor stood ready to set.Across the net stood Aiden.
Malik bounced on his toes like an excited rabbit.Ryota stood behind him, unreadable.
The whistle blew.
The match was short, intense, a blur of speed. But several moments stood out.
A fast serve came his way. Noah shifted early, exactly like Ryota, and dug a perfect ball.
Ryota gave the tiniest nod.
Noah lit up like a kid on Christmas.
Aiden sent a perfect no-look back set to his opposite.
Connor felt the hit sting his forearms as he dug it up, barely.
Aiden's eyes widened slightly.Respect.
Off a messy pass, Connor sprinted, jumped off one foot, and sent a fast ball to Sam for a quick.
The ball hit the floor before the blockers reacted.
Malik yelled, "THAT WAS SICK!"
Aiden's jaw tightened, impressed, but fiercely competitive.
Players collapsed around the court.Connor gulped water and wiped his forehead with his sleeve.
Aiden approached, calm, composed.
"Your back sets are stable," Aiden said casually. "But your second step is a little wide."
Connor blinked. "You were… analyzing me?"
Aiden shrugged. "We're both setters."
"Oh."
Aiden met his eyes, sharp, honest."Don't slow down. I like when competition is real."
Then he walked off.
Connor stared after him.
"…Okay," he whispered.
Noah appeared beside him. "Did he… compliment you or challenge you?"
"Both."
"Terrifying," Dylan said.
"Yeah," Connor admitted. "Kinda."
⸻
By the time drills ended, Connor felt like his body was made of warm jelly.
Coach West gathered the Wolves.
"Good progress today," she said. "Blake, solid adjustments mid-training. Ramirez, keep watching Kim. Sam, Nathan, Dylan, good consistency."
Noah whispered to Connor, "She said my name."
"You deserved it," Connor whispered back.
Coach West continued, "Dinner at six. Recovery after. Curfew at ten. Don't push your knees. And hydrate."
"Yes, Coach!" they chorused.
⸻
After dinner, showers, and a short stretching session in the hallway, the Wolves returned to their room. It was warm, lights dimmed, peaceful in that comfortable post-training exhaustion.
Noah and Dylan immediately started arguing about who had the better dig today.
Sam sat quietly on his bed, reading.
Connor took a deep breath, reached for his phone, and stepped into the hallway.
He pressed call.
It rang twice.
"Connor?"His mother's voice was warm, familiar, grounding.
"Hey, Mom."
"How was training, honey?"
Connor leaned against the wall, sliding down slowly until he sat on the floor.
"It was… good. Really good, actually. Hard, but… I'm keeping up."
"I knew you would," Helena said softly.
A smaller voice shouted in the background:
"CONNOR! CONNOR! DID YOU HIT ANYONE IN THE FACE WITH THE BALL?"
Connor laughed. "Hey, Sophia."
"Hi!" she yelled. "Are you eating right? Are the boys nice? Did you jump high today? Did your knee explode?"
"Whoa, whoa, one question at a time."
"Answer the exploding knee one first."
"My knee is fine," he said, smiling. "It didn't explode."
"Yay! Can you jump higher than that really short kid who bounces like a frog?"
Connor chuckled. "Malik? No. Nobody jumps higher than Malik."
Sophia gasped dramatically. "Is he magic?"
"A little."
Helena laughed. "Sophia's been waiting all day for your call."
"I missed you guys too," Connor said softly.
There was a pause.A warm, full pause.
"You sound happy," Helena said.
"I… I think I am," Connor admitted.
"I'm proud of you."
His chest tightened in a good way.
"Thanks, Mom."
"Call us tomorrow?"
"Yeah. I promise."
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
"Goodnight. Bye, Sophia."
He hung up, smiling so wide it almost hurt.
Connor stood, stretched the stiffness from his back, and walked back toward his room.
His knee throbbed a little, but it wasn't fear.Not anymore.Just a reminder of how far he'd come.
Inside the room, Noah looked up. "You good?"
Connor nodded. "Yeah. I'm good."
Dylan threw a pillow at him. "Good. Come help us decide which dig was better. Mine or Noah's."
"Noah's," Connor said immediately.
"WHAT?!" Dylan shouted.
Noah cheered. "I am Ryota's disciple!"
Connor laughed, falling back onto his bed, exhausted and happy.
Day 3 was over.
Tomorrow would be even harder.
But for the first time…Connor felt ready.