Scene: Pre-Game
The gym buzzed with noise — sneakers squeaking, speakers hissing out a distorted national anthem.
The Governor's Cup semifinals had drawn a small crowd; mostly students, alumni, and gamblers who knew which teams played with blood.
Flowstate warmed up in their white-and-pink uniforms — crisp, clean, new.
The Steel Vipers stood across the court, taller, heavier, silent. Their black and green jerseys gleamed under the lights like armor.
Venom Lao dribbled once, looking straight at Drei. "You ready, star boy?"
Drei smirked. "You first."
Riki bounced beside Teo, tying his shoelaces tighter. "Remember — no hero stuff early. Read me before you roll."
Teo nodded. "Got it."
From the bleachers, Thea scanned both teams, pencil tapping nervously. "Just keep the rhythm," she muttered. "Don't get baited into their pace."
The whistle blew.
First Quarter
Flowstate started flat.
The Vipers moved like a machine — clean rotations, hard screens, bodies crashing inside.
Ramon "Brick" Delos Reyes bullied through the paint, throwing elbows like they were part of the game plan.
Venom Lao hit the first jumper. Then another.
Score: 10–2.
Riki tried to cut through the zone, but every time he slipped past one defender, two more closed in.
Bong's shots rattled out. Jax drove once, lost the handle. Drei's fadeaway got smothered.
Coach Alvarez shouted, "Focus! Move the ball!"
Riki growled under his breath. "We are moving it — just into their hands."
Teo grabbed a rebound, but when he turned, the ball got stripped. The crowd roared as Venom slammed it in.
"Too slow, big man!" Venom barked.
Teo gritted his teeth. He could feel every pair of eyes on him — judging, measuring, waiting.
Second Quarter
Flowstate adjusted. Drei hit a jumper from the corner. Riki danced through traffic for a floater.
But every time they closed the gap, Vipers answered back.
Venom hit threes with mechanical precision. Their center, Tower Tan, set screens like walls.
Riki looked to Teo mid-possession. "Pick and roll."
Teo moved — one step late, still not reading the help side fast enough.
Riki's pass hit his foot and bounced out of bounds.
The crowd laughed.
Bong yelled, "It's fine, reset!"
But the energy slipped.
Halftime buzzer.
Score: 41–28, Steel Vipers.
Thea crouched beside them on the bench, clipboard in hand.
"They're trapping the wings," she said. "If Riki can't find space, Drei's cuts won't open."
Riki wiped his face with his jersey. "Then we use Teo."
Teo looked up. "Me?"
Riki nodded. "You're the middle link. You see it all from the paint — so start seeing it."
Third Quarter
Something changed.
Teo started talking.
"Left corner," he called as he boxed out Brick.
"Screen high," to Kio.
"Switch!" when Jax got beat.
Riki's grin returned. "That's it. Now we're cooking."
The next play was smooth.
Riki drove, pulled two defenders.
Teo didn't force the shot — he faked, then kicked it to Drei at the wing.
Bang. Three-pointer.
Flowstate tightened up. Niko and Kio crashed every rebound. Jax stole two passes in a row.
For the first time all night, the crowd started chanting, "Flow-state! Flow-state!"
Venom frowned. "You think you're in control now?"
He drove straight at Teo — strong, fast, confident.
But Teo didn't move early this time.
He waited. Watched. Measured.
Then, perfectly timed, he rose — one hand stretched high.
Smack.
The block echoed through the gym like thunder.
Riki caught the loose ball and shouted, "Run!"
Fast break.
Three passes.
Drei to Riki.
Riki to Teo.
Teo back to Drei.
Layup.
The gym shook.
Fourth Quarter
Score: 57–56, Vipers by one.
Every possession mattered now.
Venom switched his defense — face-guarding Drei, cutting off every passing lane.
Riki signaled. Triangle.
Teo caught the inbound, set his feet at the elbow. Riki drifted baseline, Drei ghosted along the arc.
The triangle formed naturally — silent, unspoken.
Thea stood halfway up in the stands, whispering to herself. "That's it… that's flow."
Riki faked inside. The defenders bit.
Teo turned, saw the whole floor — the angles, the rotations, the space opening like it was meant to be there.
He passed behind his back to Drei. Drei pump-faked, kicked it to Riki in the corner.
Riki launched it.
Swish.
Flowstate up two.
But the Vipers weren't done.
Venom came back with a fadeaway jumper — tied again, 64–64.
Thirty seconds left.
Timeout.
Everyone breathing heavy, drenched in sweat.
Riki leaned on his knees, panting. "We're not losing this."
Teo looked up at him, calm now. "Then let's close it."
Final Possession
Riki brought the ball up, faked the crossover, slipped past one defender.
Venom closed in, forcing him left.
Riki dumped it to Teo — double-team instantly.
Teo didn't panic.
He glanced once — Drei cutting baseline, Riki fading to the wing, Kio ready near the arc.
A second of silence.
Then motion.
He pivoted, no look, swung the pass to Drei.
Venom lunged — too late.
Drei passed back — Riki open.
Fake shot. Pass back inside.
Teo took one power dribble, rose — and hammered it down.
Buzzer.
66–64.
The crowd erupted.
Riki fell backward, laughing. "You finally see it, big guy."
Teo just nodded, breathing hard. "Yeah."
Drei patted his back. "Now we're dangerous."
Scene: Aftermath
The Steel Vipers huddled by their bench, silent but respectful.
Venom approached, nodding at Teo. "Didn't think you had that kind of court sense."
Teo smiled slightly. "Didn't think I did either."
Across the court, Thea scribbled the final score on her clipboard, smiling for the first time that night.
From the stands, a figure in white warm-ups clapped slowly — Rafael Alcantara, Governor's son, captain of Imperium Eagles.
He said nothing. Just smiled, then turned to leave.
Riki noticed. "You see that?"
Thea nodded. "He's watching."
Riki stretched, grinning. "Good. Let him."
The scoreboard hummed.
Flowstate — 66. Steel Vipers — 64.
End of Chapter 13 — Triangle Under Pressure