Summary:

In 2008, Shane Hollander lost to Ilya Rozanov. Fresh-faced, hungry. Like he’d been living off victory points that were scraps compared to the real thing, compared to beating Rozanov, the first man in the world to make him feel second-best. Back then, he’d thought that was the only thing he felt, too. That the electric pulse jostling between them in the gym some time later was a trick of the mind. It was like seeing sky above for the first time. See you at the draft. Life in that paper body.

or: Ilya comes back. This is the crux of it.