DAY 6
By Saturday, Mico had stopped pretending he had full control.
His clipboard was filled not with instructions, but with coping mechanisms. At this point, "training" the Castillian was like trying to choreograph lightning.
He stood in the gym early that morning, watching his team drag themselves in.
Uno was still half-asleep, Lynx arrived skating again, Felix looked like he'd meditated for an hour already, and Jairo was doing warm-ups that looked more like exorcisms.
Mico sighed and muttered, "Alright, geniuses. Welcome to Experimental Saturday."
8:30 AM
The first drill of the day was simple—on paper.
Every sixty seconds, Mico would change the rules.
Dribbling reversed. Scoring by bounce. Talking penalized. Jumping encouraged.
He called it "Adaptive Challenge." Uno called it "Performance Art."
"Rule one," Mico began, "you can't shoot unless someone compliments you first."
Lynx grinned. "Easy. Compliment me."
Felix blinked. "No."
"Then I can't score," Lynx said dramatically.
After one minute, Mico blew the whistle. "New rule: Defense must dance before blocking."
Jairo immediately started body-rolling mid-guard. Uno stopped playing entirely just to film it.
By the fourth rule change, even Mico wasn't sure what the game was anymore.
Felix kept following the written logic, Lynx was improvising interpretive dunks, Uno was giving a mock commentary about "the philosophy of motion," and Jairo was screaming motivational quotes that no one understood.
10:00 AM
The next phase was something Mico had been testing for days, a "Clutch Simulation" that recreated the chaos of real-game endings.
They set up a scoreboard, a buzzer, and even fake crowd noises. Uno took charge of the speakers.
Which was the first mistake.
As soon as the drill began, the "crowd" started cheering like a K-pop concert. Then booing. Then chanting "LYNX! LYNX!" while he dramatically waved to imaginary fans.
"Uno!" Mico shouted.
"What? It's called atmosphere!"
Still, the exercise somehow worked.
They played short 5-second scenarios: down by two, clock ticking, ball in hand. Each member took turns taking the last shot.
Felix scored with military precision. Jairo charged in like a thunderstorm and missed by a fraction. Lynx dunked after the buzzer just to "prove a point." Uno hit a fading three—then paused to bow.
4:00 PM
By afternoon, the Castillian had regained enough energy to be dangerous again.
Mico's plan was simple: let them invent something. Their own move. Their own style. Something that reflected who they were.
He called it the Innovation Showcase. And because Lynx insisted, they livestreamed it on the university's intranet.
Felix went first.
He unveiled "The Anchor", a perfectly timed stop-step that stabilized any drive. It wasn't flashy, but it was solid. Classic Felix.
Jairo's turn: "Blitz Drive." A combination of pure speed, shoulder fake, and volume. He screamed "NOW!" every time he attacked, startling even the cameraman.
Uno strutted to center court with sunglasses on indoors. His move? "Mirror Step."
A dribble rhythm based on reflections. One step, one pose, one spin. It made no sense. But somehow, the crowd online loved it.
Then came Lynx. He stood still, eyes closed. "Presenting… the Air Dunk."
He sprinted, leapt—with no ball—and landed with a roar. The gym echoed in laughter.
"See?" he said. "You don't need the ball to feel greatness."
Mico stared at his clipboard, torn between pride and existential dread.
"Congratulations," he muttered. "You've reinvented performance basketball."
---
DAY 7
By the time Sunday arrived, Mico had one simple wis: silence.
No drills, no shouting, no cones breaking, no Lynx flying off the rim like a superhero who missed the audition.
Just peace. For one day.
He even wrote it on the group chat:
[ No training today. Rest. Review. Reflect. ]
He added a polite emoji. Then muted the chat... just in case.
8:00 AM
The Casa campus was unusually quiet that morning.
Felix was meditating by the court bleachers, perfectly still, while the rest of the world seemed to hold its breath. Across the field, Uno was wearing a hoodie, sunglasses, and holding a camera, looking suspiciously like someone not resting.
Then came Lynx. He was dribbling a basketball while balancing on his skateboard, grinning like mischief incarnate. The campus guards already looked nervous.
"Morning, gentlemen!" Lynx called out. "Friendly match? Winner gets bragging rights?"
The guards exchanged looks. They knew what happened last Sunday. And they still said yes.
Uno, of course, set up his phone and whispered to the lens, "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to 'Guards vs. Lynx: Redemption Arc.'"
By the time Lynx scored the third point, using a trick shot off a vending machine, students had started gathering. Felix sighed from a distance but didn't intervene.
Instead, he murmured, "Balance… is overrated."
10:00 AM
Inside the Castillian room, Mico sat with his laptop open, reviewing their training footage from the week.
Then his phone buzzed. It was a notification.
[ Lynx vs. Guards — Live Now (Campus Stream) ]
Mico froze. "…they didn't."
He clicked.
They did.
1:00 PM
By noon, the Castillian were gathered on the campus lawn—well, three of them were.
Felix led the session, calm as ever. "Breathe in, breathe out," he instructed.
Uno mimicked the movements halfway, checking his reflection on his phone that was put in front of him that is leaning back on his bag. Jairo tried but kept turning poses into stretches for dunking.
Lynx, still sweaty from his 1v1 match, joined halfway through, proudly declaring, "I achieved enlightenment through crossovers."
Mico arrived just in time to see Lynx doing a handstand while Uno filmed him in slow motion.
He stood there, expression unreadable, and said flatly, "This was supposed to be yoga."
Uno grinned. "It's performance yoga."
Felix opened one eye. "At least they're breathing."
Mico pinched the bridge of his nose. "Barely."