Score: Vorpal 54 – Roanoke 44
1:41 remaining – 3rd Quarter
Possession: Roanoke Storm
The ball zipped from Marcus "Flash" Daniels to Tyrese Caldwell, then back to Flash—who immediately launched forward.
Evan Cooper tried to stick with him, but Flash bent low, hugging the ball like a magnet to his hip.
One move. One blur. One sidestep.
He split the defense.
Kagetsu Renjiro exploded.
"THUNDERCLAP STYLE: PHASE TWO—SKY LANCE!"
He cut from the weak side, rising like lightning ripping the clouds.
Two-handed alley-oop slam.
The backboard trembled.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? THE HUMAN THUNDERCLAP JUST DETONATED IN THE SKY!!"
"I’ve seen Kagetsu play a dozen times... but this? He’s not playing basketball—he’s conducting a storm!"
Score: Vorpal 54 – Roanoke 46
Ethan turned slowly as the roar echoed around him.
Sweat rolled down his temple.
But his eyes stayed calm.
Kagetsu landed gently. Walked backward.
He pointed directly at Ethan.
Kagetsu said with a grin
"Let’s go again. I’m not done flying."
(This guy... he doesn’t slow down. He surges harder with every blow.)
(But that’s fine. Because I’m still standing.)
The gym was shaking from the roar. Fans were on their feet.
But the Vorpal bench?
Eyes were locked in. Focused.
Lucas Graves, seated forward with his elbows on his knees, didn’t flinch.
He watched Kagetsu retreat after that slam.
(A full-speed, full-torque vertical route off a no-look pass. And still clean in the air. Damn.)
Next to him, Louie Gee Davas cracked his knuckles.
He didn’t clap. He didn’t yell.
Just leaned back and muttered:
"He thinks that’s scary? Wait till Ethan really turns up."
Kai Mendoza rubbed his arms as goosebumps tingled down them.
"He flew, man. Like an eagle with a jetpack..."
Jeremy Park, more serious than ever, added:
"That wasn’t just athleticism. That was chemistry. Daniels knew exactly where he’d be."
Josh glanced over at Lucas.
"Think Ethan can match that?"
Lucas didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he stood, walked to the baseline to stretch, and smiled slightly.
"He’s not trying to match him."
"He’s trying to surpass him."
Score: Vorpal 54 – Roanoke 46
Possession: Vorpal Basket
The crowd was still buzzing from Kagetsu’s dunk, but Ethan wasn’t rattled.
He raised a hand. One subtle signal — and the court shifted.
"Motion!" he called out.
Evan Cooper inbounded quickly to Ethan Albarado, who caught it at the wing.
Aiden White zipped to the opposite corner. Ryan Taylor and Brandon Young screened simultaneously, creating a double stagger for Ethan.
But Ethan didn’t hesitate.
Dribble right. Crossover. Behind the back. Spin—
Swoosh. He slipped between defenders.
"HE’S DANCING! ALBARADO IS THREADING THROUGH LIKE NEEDLEWORK!"
"He’s reading two defenders ahead. That’s Playmaker’s Vision on full display."
As Ethan cut toward the paint, Malik Okafor, Roanoke’s towering center, stepped up.
Didn’t stop. Didn’t fear.
"JORDAN SHOOTING FORM—FLOAT."
A smooth mid-air release. One-handed. High arc.
Vorpal 56 – Roanoke 46
The gym snapped back from the echo.
Ayumi Brooke, on the bench, fist-pumped without realizing.
"That’s our Ethan," she whispered.
On the court, Ethan jogged back, brushing his nose with his thumb.
Kagetsu, eyes narrowing, thought:
(So that’s what you’re doing. You’re not fighting back... you’re flowing through the chaos. Like water... no—)
The crowd’s echo was still ringing. Not just from the swish—but from the way Ethan moved.
Like rhythm itself. Like chaos set to a beat.
On the bench, even the Thunderhawks were stunned into silence.
Charlotte Graves blinked once, gripping the edge of her seat as Ethan Albarado made his move cutting through the defense with razor-sharp precision.
The gym lights gleamed off his sweat. His expression was cool. Focused. Intense.
Beside her, Isabella Moreno leaned in and nudged her shoulder with a sly grin.
"Hey, hey... about Ethan."
Charlotte didn’t even look at her. "Yeah?"
"...He’s kinda hot when he’s serious."
Charlotte choked on her Gatorade. She coughed once—twice—and sat up straighter, cheeks warming.
"He’s taken." Her voice was a little too quick.
Isabella raised a brow. "Really?"
Charlotte hesitated. Then folded her arms, muttering under her breath.
"Well... I mean... he’s not. But he will be."
"So which is it?" Isabella teased, eyes sparkling now. "Taken? Or just ’taken in your head?’"
Charlotte turned to her sharply, lips pressed into a thin line. "Just—just don’t date Ethan, okay!?"
Isabella blinked, caught off guard—then burst into giggles.
"Okaaaay~ someone’s jealous."
Charlotte groaned and buried her face in her hands.
From behind them, Lena leaned over and whispered, "Is this the part where we cheer or where we watch Charlotte self-destruct?"
Carmen smirked. "Both."
Kagetsu caught the inbounds pass like a predator receiving a blade.
Then, with a flick of his hand, signaled a new play.
Roanoke formed a diamond.
Marcus "Flash" Daniels swung around in a flare cut.
Tyrese Caldwell shifted to the corner.
Malone and Okafor set a stagger screen.
But Kagetsu didn’t use it.
He reversed, blitzing back into isolation straight at Ethan.
"Uh-oh. It’s Kagetsu vs. Ethan again! Somebody get the thunder umbrellas!"
"KAGETSU STYLE — PHASE THREE: LATERAL DISRUPTION."
Left leg kicked forward. Torso twisted. Right shoulder dipped.
Ethan blinked. He hesitated—just a frame.
Kagetsu vanished from center view.
"That’s not speed. That’s deception. Thunderclap-level."
"No... he slipped behind the lens."
PHASE FOUR: CROSS-CRASH LATERAL.
Kagetsu reappeared at a 45-degree angle — behind Ethan’s peripheral, attacking not the space, but the blind zone.
Kagetsu flew past, soared into the air—
A reverse layup kissed the glass.
Vorpal 56 – Roanoke 48
The buzzer blared. End of the third quarter.
Kagetsu landed light, rolled his shoulder once, and glanced at Ethan.
"Fourth quarter now, Albarado. Let’s see how long you can dance before the thunder drowns the music."
"Then try to catch the wind."