On the Gods' bench, silence reigned.
Poseidon wiped his hands with a towel, calm but visibly thinking.
Ares sat forward, elbows on knees, glaring at the floor.
"That rebound…" he growled.
"That human read me like a book."
Hades chuckled softly, eyes still glowing faintly from his shadow step.
"You charged too linear, war boy. They're not trying to beat your strength — they're redirecting it."
Ares scowled.
"And what, you want me to float like smoke now?"
Zeus, sitting at the end of the bench, finally spoke, his tone neither angry nor calm. It was measured.
"Adapt."
Ares looked up. "What?"
Zeus's eyes flickered with pale gold.
"They're climbing because they've begun to believe."
He pointed one finger at the court.
"So remind them that belief without power is still only a dream."
Ares' grin returned crooked, eager.
"Then it's time for war."
Back across the gym, Coach Jenkins stood with his hands on his hips, heart pounding like a war drum.
