The arena was still buzzing even as fans poured out, red and silver banners trailing through the aisles. The scoreboard, frozen at 523–522, glared like a scar across the stadium.
But in the upper corner section, Royal Court wasn't moving.
King, Treasure, Cadel, Mia, Jasmine, Ebun, Leyah, Omot, AJ, Ola, Dan, and Chibz all sat frozen in their seats, eyes glued to the court where Phantom Vortex celebrated. Drift, the man of the hour, was hoisted high on his teammates' shoulders, expressionless, calm, as though hitting the biggest shot of the tournament was just another day in his book.
King exhaled slowly. "Yoo… they actually did it. One point. One shot."
Treasure leaned forward, elbows on his knees, shaking his head. "Damn, that was crazy. Jayden was cooking the whole night and still…" He slapped his thigh in frustration. "Still, they couldn't stop Drift."
Cadel frowned, arms crossed. "It's not just him. Their whole team… they don't break. They matched Emberlight bucket for bucket at that pace. Five hundred points. That's insane."
Mia's voice was soft, but firm. "Which means if we're not ready, they'll bury us the same way."
Ebun glanced at Jasmine, her voice lower. "Yo, she's right. Phantom Vortex is dangerous. If Drift gets rolling… it's over."
But Jasmine, as usual, had a sly smile. "Nah. It won't be over. You saw how Emberlight pushed them. If they can bleed, we can make them bleed worse. All we gotta do is stay tighter than they did."
AJ, who had been strangely quiet, finally spoke. His eyes hadn't left Drift once. "That last shot. The way he sized Jayden up. He wasn't even rushed. No fear, no nerves. That's what scares me. He plays like… like he already knows he's supposed to win."
The words hung in the air. Everyone felt it.
King finally stood. "Then we prove him wrong." His voice was steady, almost defiant. "They might think they're unstoppable, but they haven't faced us. We've been underestimated before. Hell, no one thought Royal Court would even see the semis. And yet, here we are."
Treasure stood too, slapping King's hand. "Yessir. Let's show them what legends look like."
The group rose together, filing out of the stands. But in each of their hearts, something had shifted. This wasn't just another game. This was the test of everything they'd built.
That Night – Team Meeting at Coach's Office
Coach Tunde sat behind his desk, tie loosened, a cup of coffee steaming in front of him. When the players arrived, he didn't speak right away. He just studied them, their faces still raw with adrenaline from what they'd witnessed.
Finally, he leaned forward. "You saw it with your own eyes. Phantom Vortex doesn't play like normal teams. They bend the game. They speed it up, then somehow stay sharp in the chaos. That's why they win."
Dan raised a hand. "Coach, how do you even prepare for that pace? Emberlight scored five hundred points and still lost."
Coach Tunde gave a thin smile. "Simple. We don't try to match their storm. We anchor ourselves. We slow them when we can, and when we can't—we hit back harder. We'll use our depth. We'll use our power. And most of all, we'll use our unity."
He stood, voice rising. "They have Drift. We have each other. That's how we win."
The room pulsed with energy. The players nodded, some fists clenched, others whispering words of hype to each other.
King's eyes burned. He remembered the nights of doubt, the early losses, the grind to get here. "Coach is right. They're one captain. We're a family. That's the difference."
Training Days – Sharpening the Edge
The next week became a blur of sweat, drills, and intensity.
Defense: Cadel and Draco (invited for scrimmages) became sparring partners, testing each other in one-on-one lockdown drills. Ebun and Omot worked on communication, shouting out switches, pushing each other to stay focused.
Offense: Treasure drilled late-game threes, Jasmine feeding him pass after pass, laughing but also making him reset until his form was perfect. "Again. Drift would've blocked that. Faster, cleaner. Again."
Conditioning: Coach ran them through insane stamina drills. Suicide runs, resistance bands, push-ups mid-practice. If Phantom wanted chaos, Royal Court would match it breath for breath.
Chemistry: At night, the team gathered at King's house or the dorm common room. No phones, no distractions. Just talking plays, talking life, learning how each other thought. Kiisi even dropped by once, sitting beside AJ. The small smiles they shared didn't go unnoticed by the others.
Mia noticed King spacing out one night after a brutal training session. She nudged him gently. "You're thinking about Drift again, aren't you?"
King nodded. "Yeah. The way he controls the floor. I've never seen anything like it."
Mia leaned closer, her voice soft but steady. "Then don't copy him. Be better than him. You don't need to be Drift, King. You need to be you. The King that carries Royal Court."
Her words sank deep. King looked at her, then at his teammates, and something clicked. He didn't need to fear Drift. He needed to define himself against him.
The Weight of the Semifinal
The night before the game, Royal Court gathered in the empty gym. The court was dimly lit, the silence heavy. Coach let them sit in the circle, just them and the ball at center.
Treasure was the first to speak. "Yoo… win or lose tomorrow, I just wanna say I'm proud we even made it here. But damn it, I don't want this to end yet. I want the finals."
Ebun nodded. "Same. Phantom Vortex ain't about to write our ending. Not now."
Jasmine smirked at her. "Spoken like a true Royal. Guess we finally agree on something, huh?"
Everyone chuckled, the tension breaking for just a moment.
Then King stood, picking up the ball. He spun it in his hands, staring at the worn leather. "Tomorrow… everything changes. For us. For this school. For our story. Drift might be a legend already. But legends fall." He raised the ball high. "And when the buzzer sounds, it won't be his name the world remembers. It'll be ours."
The ball thudded once against the court, echoing like a promise.
Dawn of the Battle
As the sun rose the next morning, the city buzzed with anticipation. Posters plastered the streets: ROYAL COURT vs PHANTOM VORTEX – SEMIFINAL SHOWDOWN. Broadcasters hyped it as the "true final before the final."
In the locker room, jerseys hung crisp, sneakers gleamed, and the air was thick with nerves and determination. King laced up slowly, breathing deep. Treasure bounced a ball rhythmically, focused. Mia tied her ponytail, eyes sharp. AJ stretched quietly beside Kiisi, who had been allowed to sit in the locker room for moral support.
Coach Tunde walked in, gaze steady. "This is it. All the sweat, all the work—it comes down to today. Don't think about Drift. Don't think about their chaos. Think about us. Our unity. Our fire. Our dream. Now get out there and show the world who the real legends are."
The players rose as one, hands stacked in the center.
"ROYAL COURT!" they roared.
And as they marched toward the tunnel, the crowd's roar hit them like thunder. Phantom Vortex waited on the other side, black and silver uniforms already glinting under the lights. Drift stood at the front, calm as ever, eyes locking with King's for the first time.
Two leaders. Two paths. One destiny.
The semifinal had arrived.