The National Middle School Championship Arena
It was the cathedral of youth basketball.
A shimmering dome of lights and noise, alive with electric energy. Nearly twenty thousand fans filled the stands, their chants crashing together like ocean waves. Cameras flashed from every corner, catching every nervous grin and every drop of sweat.
The court itself gleamed beneath the spotlights waxed to perfection, painted in gold and blue, like the stage of a legend's tale. Every sound, the echo of sneakers, the thump of basketballs, the heartbeat of the crowd fused into one pulsing rhythm.
This wasn't just a game.
This was the National Middle School Championship.
And for the Vorpal Basket, this was the moment every bruise, every early morning, every drop of sweat had been preparing them for.
Inside the Locker Room
The smell of fresh jerseys and sports tape filled the air.
The room was tense, quiet but it wasn't the silence of fear. It was the silence before thunder.
