🐋 The Orcas Walk Into a Storm
The Komodo's opening day opponent was the Deep Water Kings — the Orcas.
A strong team.
Big bodies.
Physical defense.
Known for grinding games into ugly battles.
In the locker room, Orcas head coach Shen tried to fire his players up.
"Listen to me," he said firmly.
"People are saying Buffalo beat these guys in a tune-up. That means they are human. That means they can bleed."
He looked at his team.
"If Buffalo can crush them, then so can we."
The players nodded, fists pumping.
But none of them expected what was waiting outside.
From the Komodo bench, Coach Fran did not clap.
He did not shout.
He did not celebrate when the opening ceremony ended and the crowd roared for the champions.
He simply sat there, arms folded, eyes locked on the court — not on his own players, but across the floor.
On Buffalo.
Elias Moreno stood near the sideline, calm, unreadable. Victor spoke to AJ, pointing at imaginary angles on the floor. Tony rolled his shoulders, loosening up.
Fran knew those movements.
He had drilled them.
He had argued over them.
He had believed in them — once.
Williams leaned closer.
"You're quiet," he said.
Fran replied softly, "Because noise makes you miss things."
Williams smirked. "See anything useful?"
Fran's eyes followed Elias as he adjusted his knee brace, barely noticeable, but there.
"Plenty."
He leaned forward now, elbows on knees.
"Buffalo plays with emotion," Fran continued. "That's their strength. But emotion always leaves fingerprints."
Williams nodded, listening.
"Elias is their brain," Fran said. "When he's calm, they're dangerous. When he's forced to react instead of decide — that's when cracks appear."
Williams glanced toward Elias.
"And how do we force that?"
Fran didn't hesitate.
"Make him choose between being a scorer and a protector. Don't let him be both."
Williams' smile faded into something sharper.
Fran went on.
"Victor leads vocally, but he defers when Elias is on the floor. Separate their rhythm. Trap one, bait the other."
Williams exhaled slowly.
"And Tony?"
Fran's eyes narrowed.
"He's strong. Honest. But he bites on fakes when tired. Make him defend two actions in one possession."
Williams chuckled softly.
"So Buffalo still bleeds."
Fran looked down for a second.
"Everyone does."
Across the arena, Elias suddenly looked toward the Komodo bench.
For a brief moment, their eyes met.
Fran did not look away.
Not anymore.
🟢 First Quarter: Komodo Sends a Message
From the opening tip, the Komodo played like a team possessed.
Not just fast.
Not just strong.
But angry.
John Cruz touched the ball on the first possession.
No hesitation.
Pull-up three.
Swish.
The Orcas barely had time to react before George stole the next inbound pass and slammed it home.
Five-zero in less than twenty seconds.
Coach Shen shouted, "Settle down! Run the offense!"
But the Komodo defense was suffocating.
Double teams.
Passing lanes cut off.
Hands everywhere.
Jimmy blocked two shots in a row.
Then came John again.
Another three.
Then another.
He wasn't just shooting.
He was hunting.
Each time the ball left his hands, it felt like a dagger aimed straight at his former team's memory.
By the end of the first quarter:
Komodo: 22
Orcas: 6
The Orcas bench was silent.
Players stared at the floor.
They weren't just losing.
They were being dismantled.
😨 Second Quarter: Confidence Turns Into Panic
The Orcas tried to slow the game down.
Post plays.
Hard screens.
Physical drives.
But nothing worked.
Every miss turned into a Komodo fast break.
Every turnover became another highlight.
At one point, John Cruz hit a three so deep that even his own bench stood up in disbelief.
Coach Williams didn't even smile.
He just folded his arms.
Because he knew this wasn't about winning one game.
This was about sending a warning.
Halftime score:
Komodo: 41
Orcas: 13
In the Orcas locker room, Coach Shen slammed the whiteboard.
"This is not who we are!"
But the players couldn't even look at him.
They felt broken.
Outmatched.
Embarrassed.
🧨 Second Half: No Mercy
Most teams, up by nearly thirty, would slow down.
Komodo didn't.
They pressed harder.
They attacked faster.
They rotated deeper.
Coach Fran could be seen talking quietly to Coach Williams, pointing at defensive rotations, correcting small mistakes.
He wasn't celebrating.
He was teaching.
And that made it scarier.
John Cruz continued to torch the Orcas.
George took over playmaking.
Jimmy dominated inside.
By the middle of the fourth quarter, the crowd wasn't even cheering anymore.
They were just watching in stunned silence.
This wasn't competition.
This was execution.
Final score flashed on the big screen:
🟢 KOMODO DRAGONS — 75
🔵 ORCAS — 27
A forty-eight point destruction.
On opening day.
Against a respected team.
📸 Media Explosion
The moment the final buzzer sounded, reporters rushed the court.
Cameras surrounded Coach Williams.
"What was the key to this dominant win?"
"Is this the strongest Komodo lineup ever?"
"What about the new additions?"
Coach Williams answered calmly.
"We just played our game. We respected our opponent."
Then reporters turned to John Cruz.
"How did it feel playing against the league again?"
"Any message to your former team?"
John paused.
Then said quietly,
"I'm just here to win."
And walked away.
Outside the arena, headlines were already spreading:
KOMODO UNLEASHES MONSTER LINEUP — LEAGUE PUT ON NOTICE
FORMER BUFFALO COACH AND STAR JOIN CHAMPIONS — IS THIS A DYNASTY?
WHO CAN STOP KOMODO NOW?
And one question echoed louder than all the rest:
What will Buffalo do…
when they face this version of Komodo?
🦬 Somewhere Else… Buffalo Watches
Back at their own gym, the Buffalo players were watching the game on a large screen.
No one spoke.
They watched every three.
Every steal.
Every dunk.
Santino finally broke the silence.
"So… that's what we're up against."
Victor nodded slowly.
"And they know how we play."
Tony clenched his fists.
"They brought our past with them."
Coach Ed turned off the screen.
Then faced his team.
"They want to scare us," he said calmly.
"They want to remind us who they think they are."
He looked straight at Elias.
"But they also just showed the whole league… that they are afraid of something."
John Paul lifted his head.
"Afraid of what, Coach?"
Coach Ed answered,
"Afraid of being challenged."
Silence filled the gym.
Then Elias stood up.
"Good," he said quietly.
"Because we're not backing down."
And for the first time since opening day…
The Buffalo didn't look like underdogs anymore.
They looked like a team preparing for war.