This was the first time they returned to the lodge with the sun still warm in the sky. The golden light spilled through the tall pine windows, casting long shadows across the wooden floors. For the first time all week, the air felt different — lighter, softer, like a gentle exhale after a storm. Like vacation. Like peace.
After nearly five days of relentless blood, sweat, grueling drills, and those infamous cursed food punishments, the fierce fire of competition had finally cooled. The mountain no longer felt like a battlefield. Instead, it breathed the quiet warmth of victory, of camaraderie earned through struggle.
Naturally, the group fragmented into smaller clusters, each drawn to their own corners like planets orbiting a newfound sun.
The table tennis room sprang to life first. Dirga, still riding the adrenaline high of their last victory, trailed Buzz, Masaki, Taiga, and Rei through the door, curiosity pulling him forward.
He'd never held a paddle before.
