For a moment, there was absolutely nothing.
No screaming, no whistling. Just the dead bounce of the ball rolling toward the touchline, and twenty thousand people staring at the scoreboard, holding their breath like they were about to die.
[Colossus 93-117 Blacklist]
Then, the roof practically flew off.
The whole arena exploded. It was a wall of sound so loud it made the bleachers vibrate right through the spectators' teeth. People were screaming, others were sobbing, clutching betting tickets that had suddenly turned into a small fortune. One guy, three rows behind the bench, climbed onto his seat and started waving his t-shirt over his head like a damn flag.
On the court, the girls finally let the pressure go. The second it happened, a huge ocean of post-zone state exhaustion crushed them.
