Score:
Orlando Hoops – 101
Vorpal Basket – 94
Time Left: 2:30
The gym was loud, but inside Evan Cooper's mind, everything was quiet.
He looked around at his teammates—Alec Storm, the elite, and Lucas Graves, the mimic prodigy. Everyone was shining… everyone, except him.
He clenched his fists.
(I'm here too… I AM… EVAN!)
He screamed those words in his heart.
On the bench, Ethan Albarado watched him with calm, serious eyes. A small knowing smile played at his lips.
(You're feeling it, aren't you? That frustration. That pressure. You want to matter. You want to be seen. I know… because I've felt it too.)
Then—
"PASS!" Evan shouted out, his voice sharp and clear.
Lucas turned his head, surprised. Even Alec glanced at Evan, slightly stunned.
Without hesitation, Lucas passed him the ball. It zipped through the air like a bullet.
Thud!
Evan caught it cleanly, and in one quick motion, he began dribbling up the court.
Mason Hayes stepped forward to guard him. He was one of Orlando's sharp defenders, fast and aggressive.
But Evan wasn't backing down.
(I'm the captain of this team… I lead this team… Don't underestimate me, punk.)
He dribbled left, then right — faking Mason out.
Suddenly, a system notification appeared only to Ethan.
📢 [LEADERSHIP COMMAND ACTIVATED!]
• All teammates now instinctively follow Evan's lead.
• Teamwork and cooperation increase.
📢 [TEAM SYNERGY CARD ACTIVATED!]
• Everyone on the team gains a +2 boost to all attributes for the next 10 minutes.
It was a silent power—none of the players could see or hear it.
But they felt it.
Everyone moved smoother.
Everyone trusted each other more.
It was as if Evan's determination spread to the whole team.
Back to the court—
Evan dribbled behind his back, quick and low to the ground. Mason stayed close, trying to read his every move.
Then Evan faked a shot—his feet slightly lifted, eyes looking straight at the rim.
Mason jumped too early, trying to block it.
But it was just a fake.
Evan planted his feet again, now with a real chance to shoot.
He rose up and released the ball with perfect form—
The crowd held its breath.
But suddenly—
SLAM!!!
A huge shadow flew in from the side.
Jaxon Wells, the tall, powerful center from Orlando Hoops, had been waiting.
His timing was perfect.
His hand smacked the ball mid-air, sending it flying away.
"NOT TODAY, DUMBASS!" Jaxon shouted, loud and proud.
The ball bounced hard off the court, the crowd gasped, and even the announcer fell silent for a second.
Evan landed on his feet, eyes wide, breathing hard.
He'd just been blocked.
As Evan stood frozen on the court.
His feet had landed.
His shot had been blocked.
And now… silence.
The crowd had moved on. The players were moving. But he stood there — stunned.
The sting of failure echoed in his chest.
His hands hung by his sides, and for a brief moment… he felt small.
But then—
A hand rested gently on his back. A firm, warm pat.
He turned his head slightly.
It was Ethan Albarado.
The rookie. The benchwarmer. The quiet kid who had become the mind of this entire game.
Ethan looked him in the eyes, calm as ever.
"Captain," he said softly.
That one word cut through the noise. Through the self-doubt. Through the pain.
Evan blinked.
He called me captain.
Not because of rank.
Not out of obligation.
But out of respect.
He looked at Ethan.
And then Ethan gave a small, confident smile.
"Let's do our best."
Simple words. No dramatic speech. No big gesture.
But it was enough.
Evan's heart felt lighter. His lips curved into a small, quiet smile.
(This… did he just… encourage me?)
(He knew. He understood… that I tried. That I gave it everything. Even if I failed.)
Evan nodded slowly.
For the first time in a while, he didn't feel like a captain by title—
He felt like a leader again.
.....
Time Remaining: 2:00 Minutes
Score:
Orlando Hoops – 101
Vorpal Basket – 94
Ethan turned his head toward the court.
His blue eyes sharpened. His breathing was steady.
Everything in his mind clicked into place.
Now's the moment.
He wasn't the strongest.
He wasn't the fastest.
But he had something else.
Clarity.
He could see it —
The weak spots in the enemy's rotation.
The flaw in their pressure defense.
The cracks forming in Alec's momentum.
(They're fast. They're powerful. But… they don't see the battlefield the way I do.)
Ethan glanced over at Lucas.
Lucas, catching the look, gave a silent nod.
The plan didn't need to be spoken anymore.
They trusted him.
This wasn't about one player.
This was about every piece moving in perfect sync.
Ethan took one deep breath.
(This is it. My moment to turn the tide.)
He called out calmly to his teammates as the ball was inbounded:
"Formation Shift – Double Mirror Break!"
Everyone moved.
The final battle had begun.
….
Before all of this happened
The players were gathered in a tight circle.
Sweat rolled down their faces. The tension was heavy.
But in the center of it all, standing confidently, was Ethan Albarado — not the coach, not a senior… but the true strategist of this team.
He crouched down, drawing with his finger on the clipboard that Coach Fred had handed him without hesitation.
Coach Fred stood to the side, arms crossed, nodding as if deep in thought.
"That's it… hmm," Fred muttered, rubbing his chin.
"Mhm… yes… brilliant."
To the others, it looked like Fred was the one guiding things.
But the players weren't fooled.
Coonie, their sharp-eyed clutch boy, squinted at Fred.
(Pretentious bastard.) he thought, irritated.
he nudged Kai, who rolled his eyes.
Jeremy smirked. They all knew who was actually running the show.
In the middle of the team huddle, Evan leaned closer to Ethan.
"So… what's our role?" he asked seriously.
Ethan smiled — that calm, focused smile of someone who already saw five moves ahead.
"Simple," Ethan replied, locking eyes with his captain.
"We're going to make them guard shadows instead of players."
He tapped the center of the court on the clipboard.
"It's called: Double Mirror Break. Here's how it works…"
….
Back to the present
The gym was loud, screaming fans, pounding footsteps, and the sound of basketball echoing across the court.
But even in all that noise, Ethan's voice was clear and strong:
"Formation Shift — Double Mirror Break!"
Right away, his team moved like they already knew what to do.
It was like watching a puzzle come together.
Lucas Graves moved up from the wing to the top of the key — the center of the court.
Evan Cooper, who usually stayed in the middle, slowly walked to the corner. That was strange… but it was all part of the plan.
Down low, Ryan Taylor and Brandon Young pretended to switch places. They bumped into defenders on purpose, trying to confuse them.
And Ethan?
He jogged near the baseline, looking like he wasn't part of the play. His head was down, like he was out of position.
But the truth was….he was the key to everything.
.....
Across the court, Alec Storm was watching carefully.
His sharp eyes moved from Lucas… to Evan… to Ryan… to Brandon.
But something felt wrong.
"Where's the threat coming from?" Alec whispered to himself.
He could feel it — something wasn't right.
And then — it happened.
Lucas made a quick fake toward the basket. His defender stepped in too far.
Evan moved like he was about to shoot from the corner.
Ryan set a screen, blocking the center.
Brandon faked a strong move like he was going to post up.
The defenders all got pulled in different directions.
And that's when Ethan made his move.
He dashed from the baseline, running behind the defense, completely unseen.
He was wide open.
Lucas, without even looking, passed the ball right into Ethan's hands.
Perfect timing.
...….
The crowd went silent for just a second.
Ethan planted his feet.
He raised the ball.
He shot.
The ball flew in a perfect arc, spinning softly through the air.
Everyone watched.
The gym held its breath.
Swish.
Nothing but net.
The crowd exploded in cheers.
Ethan didn't smile. He didn't raise his hands.
He just turned around, calm and focused, heading back on defense.
Because deep down, he knew:
This wasn't the end.
Score:
Orlando Hoops – 101
Vorpal Basket – 96
1:45 remaining
....
1:45 Remaining
Score:
Orlando Hoops – 101
Vorpal Basket – 96
The shrill whistle blew through the air, cutting into the deafening roars of the crowd.
Coach Corson rubbed his temples as his team jogged back to the bench, sweat-drenched and rattled.
He didn't even bark orders.
Didn't yell.
Didn't curse.
He just stared at the court.
At the echo of the last play.
His jaw clenched slightly.
Then, quietly almost to himself, he muttered:
"Double Mirror Break… that's a damn genius setup."
The assistant coaches leaned in.
Corson didn't turn. His eyes were still locked on the space where Ethan had taken the shot.
"This isn't just playground flash. This is war tactics. Smoke and mirrors."
He motioned with his finger, outlining the mental replay like a detective rebuilding a crime scene.
….
In Coach Corson mind replaying the scene
Lucas Graves:
He started on the left wing—where most defenders expect him to be aggressive, maybe drive inside or take a quick shot.
But instead…
He moved smoothly to the top of the key. Calm. Controlled.
It was a quiet fake. Just enough to shift the defense.
They followed him, thinking he was setting up a isolation play.
"They totally fell for it." Corson whispered.
….
Evan Cooper:
Normally, Evan plays point guard,he runs the offense.
But this time, he drifted to the right corner.
It looked odd. Out of place.
Why was he there? For spacing? A fake play?
The defenders weren't sure. They started to overthink it.
They stuck close to Evan tight defense.
But that was the trick. He wasn't part of the real play. He was just the distraction.
Ryan Taylor & Brandon Young:
The big guys. Tough and dependable.
Now they were switching spots under the basket.
At first, it looked like a mistake. Disorganized.
But that was intentional.
"They created confusion." Corson said out loud.
"Our defenders didn't know who to guard anymore."
The Orlando players looked at each other, confused.
Even Alec Storm didn't know what to say.
...….
And then there was Ethan Albarado.
The ghost.
He barely moved. Just jogged along the baseline, quiet and slow.
He didn't call for the ball. Didn't act like part of the play.
He looked like he wasn't involved at all.
But that was the setup.
"He acted like dead weight," Corson murmured, eyes narrowing.
"But in reality… he was the finisher."
Lucas had all eyes on him.
Evan was the bait.
The paint was a blur of confusion.
And then bam —
Ethan slipped out like smoke, received the pass, and nailed the shot.
Perfect execution.
"This isn't normal high school ball anymore. That kid…"
He clenched his fist.
"Albarado… he's not just playing basketball. He's orchestrating it."
He turned to his team.
Their faces were tense, sweating, unsure, shaken.
"Alright." Corson stood straight. His voice sharp now.
"Let's see who win this game."
To be continue