[3rd Person POV]
The second quarter was halfway over, and the gap was growing wider.
Lucas Graves stood at the top of the key, panting, sweat dripping down his face. His muscles burned, his breaths ca in short gasps.
He glanced at the scoreboard.
...
[Scoreboard:
Orlando Hoops – 44
Vorpal Basket – 27]
...
Lucas clenched his fists.
"(At this rate, we're not going to win...)"
His mind was racing. His Absolute Mimicry allowed him to replicate their moves, but Orlando had adapted. They were locking him down, forcing him into exhaustion.
Every ti he moved, Alec Storm shadowed him.
Every ti he looked for a pass, Mason Hayes and Julian Cross were there to cut it off.
"(They're zoning out...)"
Lucas lifted his head—his sharp, yellow eyes locked onto Evan Cooper.
Evan, Vorpal Basket's point guard and captain, had the ball at the top of the arc.
He looked at Lucas, his expression firm.
"Lucas!" Evan called out.
Lucas snapped out of his thoughts just as Evan fired a sharp pass toward him.
Lucas caught the ball.
But imdiately—the Orlando defense collapsed on him.
Alec Storm was in his face.
Mason Hayes was lurking nearby, ready to pounce.
Julian Cross shifted his stance, watching Lucas's every move.
Lucas gritted his teeth. "(They're really trying to force out of the play.)"
He scanned the court and saw Aiden White open on the wing.
Aiden White—Vorpal Basket's small forward.
Not the best option. But the only option.
Lucas fired a pass to Aiden.
Aiden caught it, pivoted, and searched for an opening.
He spotted Ryan Taylor, the power forward, near the baseline.
Aiden made the quick decision.
He passed it.
But—
Julian Cross jumped the lane.
Steal.
Aiden's eyes widened.
"Shit!!" he cursed as Julian snatched the ball with one hand and imdiately took off down the court.
Fast break.
Orlando Hoops was on the attack again.
The crowd roared as Julian drove toward the basket at full speed.
Lucas and Evan sprinted back, desperate to stop him.
But Julian was too fast.
With a smooth euro step, he cut past Ryan Taylor.
Then—
A powerful dunk.
Slam!!
The entire backboard rattled as Julian hung on the rim for a brief mont before landing.
The gym erupted.
....
[Scoreboard Update:
Orlando Hoops – 46
Vorpal Basket – 27]
...
Lucas exhaled sharply, clenching his fists.
This ga was slipping away.
And if sothing didn't change soon...
It would be over before they even reached the second half.
....
[Ethan Albarado POV]
I stared at the scoreboard.
..
Scoreboard:
Orlando Hoops – 46
Vorpal Basket – 27
2nd quarter (4 minutes left)
...
We were getting destroyed.
I knew from the novel that in the second quarter, soone from our team would get injured. And that soone...
Was Aiden White.
I tapped my fingers anxiously against my knee, watching the ga unfold.
"(Co on, co on... get injured... get injured...)"
I froze.
Wait.
"(Shit, did I just seriously wish for my own teammate to get hurt?)"
I shook my head.
"(Damn it, Ethan, that's ssed up...)"
I let out a nervous chuckle. "(Sorry, Aiden, nothing personal. But I need that substitution...)"
A part of felt bad, but this was my chance.
The mont Aiden went down, the coach would have to make a choice.
And I'd make sure he chose .
I took a deep breath, steadying myself.
"(This is it. My mont is coming.)"
I clenched my fists.
"(Wait for everyone.... I'll show you what I've got.)"
I watched as the ga continued, waiting for the inevitable mont that would change everything.
.........
[Aiden White POV]
I gripped the ball tightly, feeling the sweat trickle down my temple.
I needed this win.
I glanced up at the scoreboard.
....
Scoreboard:
Orlando Hoops – 46
Vorpal Basket – 27
Ti Left in the Second Quarter: 4:12
....
I looked towards the stands, searching for her.
There she was.
My little sister, Lily White, sitting in the audience, her small hands gripping the railing. She was watching , eyes filled with admiration.
She had always believed in . Even when others doubted .
And right now—
I wanted to prove to her that her big brother was cool.
"(Just one win... just one damn win...)"
I started dribbling, my heart pounding in sync with the ball hitting the court.
I knew I wasn't the best player on the team. I knew Lucas was playing out of his mind right now.
But I wanted to be more than just a supporting player.
I wanted this mont.
.....
Julian Cross – Starting Small Forward (#3)
Height: 6'2"
Personality: Calm, highly athletic, defensive-minded.
Specialty: Lockdown Defender
...
Julian stood in front of , eyes locked in.
He wasn't just standing there.
He was waiting.
Smirking.
He knew.
He could see it.
I wasn't going to pass.
And I could tell—
He was daring to go for it.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Lucas Graves calling for the ball.
"Pass!" Lucas's voice rang out.
I hesitated.
For a second—just a second—I thought about giving it to him.
But then I looked back at Lily.
I clenched my teeth.
"(No... I can do this!)"
I crossed over hard, shifting the ball from right to left.
Julian didn't bite.
He barely moved.
He just watched.
I felt my chest tighten.
"(Shit, he's reading —)"
Before I could react—
Julian lunged.
His hands moved like lightning—
Swipe!
The ball was gone.
"Shit!!" I yelled as Julian stole the ball clean.
The next second, he was already sprinting down the court on a fast break.
I turned, desperately chasing after him—
But he was too fast.
One step. Two steps. Slam.
Julian dunked it hard, the rim rattling as the crowd erupted.
"JULIAN CROSS WITH THE STEAL AND SLAM!!!"
The announcer's voice bood through the gym.
The Orlando Hoops bench exploded with cheers.
I froze.
I turned back toward the stands.
Lily was still watching.
But she wasn't smiling.
She just looked... disappointed.
I felt a weight press down on my chest.
I blew it.
I wanted to prove to her that I was cool.
But instead, I just looked like an idiot.
Evan ran up to . His expression was serious.
"Aiden."
I didn't answer.
"Look, I get it. You wanted to score."
I clenched my fists.
"But basketball isn't about one person proving themselves."
I looked away, sha crawling up my spine.
Evan exhaled, then patted my shoulder.
"You're still her big brother, Aiden. She's proud of you no matter what."
I bit my lip.
Lucas jogged back down the court, getting back into position.
I took a deep breath.
I wasn't going to get another chance.
But maybe...
Just maybe—
...
[3rd POV]
Evan Cooper dribbled the ball at the top of the key, his eyes locked onto Alec Storm.
Alec stood in a low defensive stance, his eyes analyzing every twitch of Evan's movents. His presence alone felt suffocating.
Evan gritted his teeth.
"Tsk."
He knew he couldn't break past Alec—not without risking a turnover.
Instead, he made the smart choice.
He passed the ball to Josh Turner, who imdiately took over.
....
Josh Turner – Starting Shooting Guard (#8)
Height: 6'0"
Abilities: Mid-range specialist, quick first step.
Weakness: Struggles under heavy defensive pressure.
....
Josh caught the ball smoothly.
Mason Hayes was on him in an instant.
"You're not getting past ," Mason muttered, his stance widening.
Josh dribbled behind his back, shifting from his right hand to his left in one fluid motion.
Mason's eyes narrowed, focused on the ball.
Josh suddenly rose up for a shot.
Mason, reacting instinctively, jumped up to contest.
But it was a fake.
Josh never intended to shoot.
The mont Mason left his feet, Josh whipped the ball to Lucas Graves.
....
Lucas Graves – Bench Player (#10)
Height: 5'11"
Abilities: Absolute Mimicry – can perfectly copy and refine skills.
Weakness: High stamina drain, struggles with consistency.
....
Lucas saw the opportunity.
The second the ball hit his hands, his brain processed everything.
His eyes snapped to Julian Cross, the best slasher on Orlando Hoops.
He had watched Julian move—studied him—mimicked his steps.
Now, it was ti to use them.
Lucas planted his foot hard.
Then—
He exploded forward.
A lightning-fast first step.
Julian's own move.
The exact footwork, the perfect balance, the subtle shift of weight—
All copied perfectly.
Lucas drove into the paint, his speed shocking everyone.
"What the—?!" Julian Cross, the original user of the move, imdiately reacted—too late.
Lucas was already past him.
Two steps.
A quick gather.
A defender in front—Ethan Blake, the Power Forward.
Lucas adjusted mid-air.
He had seen Julian do this move before.
He knew what to do.
Lucas twisted his body, adjusting his shooting angle mid-air, completely avoiding Ethan Blake's outstretched arms.
A perfect mid-air adjustnt.
A move only an elite slasher could pull off.
The ball left Lucas's fingertips—
Swish.
Bucket.
The gym fell into silence for half a second—
Then exploded.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
The crowd roared.
Orlando Hoops players froze.
Even Alec Storm was stunned.
Lucas landed and turned back, breathing heavily, his eyes sharp.
Julian Cross, the man whose move had just been stolen—stood there, dumbfounded.
"He... copied that move...?"
Mason Hayes turned to Alec, his voice filled with disbelief.
"Yo, what the hell is this guy?"
Alec didn't answer.
He just stared at Lucas.
For the first ti—
Alec Storm felt irritated
Lucas smile at him due to him being passionate at basketball
.....
anwhile, Aiden White watched Lucas and gritted his teeth.
He had been on this team for months.
Lucas had just stepped on the court, and he was already making plays like that.
(I wish I could do that...)
But Aiden knew his limits.
He wasn't an offensive player.
If he couldn't score, then he would defend.
If he couldn't shine, then he would support.
Even if it wasn't much—he would do his job.
Back on the court, Alec Storm suddenly smirked.
"You think you're the only one who can put on a show?"
Lucas, still panting, wiped the sweat off his forehead.
"Okay..." he said, his breath heavy but his resolve strong.
.... After 1 minute of playing
Ethan Albarado watched intently from the bench.
He could feel it.
That mont.
The turning point.
(This is it... this is when Aiden White gets injured.)
He wasn't sure when it would happen.
The novel barely ntioned it.
Aiden was just an extra in Turning Point, a na that barely mattered in the story.
Lucas, Evan, and the other main players got all the attention.
But now, watching Aiden move—watching how he forced himself to keep up—Ethan knew.
It was close.
Aiden was pushing himself harder than ever.
His defense had stepped up, his footwork was sharp, and he wasn't backing down.
But Ethan could see it.
Aiden's movents were getting sloppy.
His legs were slow to react.
His balance was shaky.
(If he doesn't sub out soon, he's gonna get hurt.)
Lucas, still catching his breath, glanced at Aiden.
(Sothing's off.)
Orlando Hoops ran their offense.
Julian Cross had the ball at the top of the key.
He faked right—then drove left.
Aiden reacted—too late.
Julian blasted past him toward the rim.
Lucas rotated to help, but Ethan Blake set a hard screen—BAM!
Lucas was cut off.
Julian leapt toward the basket—
Aiden lunged to block him—
SNAP.
The sound cut through the noise of the crowd.
Aiden's face twisted in pain.
His ankle rolled awkwardly.
He collapsed.
The whistle blew.
The gym fell silent.
Evan rushed over, kneeling beside Aiden.
"Shit, Aiden! Are you okay?"
Aiden gritted his teeth, trying to sit up.
His sister in the stands covered her mouth, eyes wide with worry.
The referee signaled the dical staff.
Aiden's hands clenched into fists.
He knew.
He wasn't playing the rest of this ga.
The realization hit him like a truck.
"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath.
The crowd murmured, Orlando's players backed up, waiting for the inevitable substitution.
Ethan Albarado slowly stood up from the bench.
He cracked his knuckles.
(Finally... my turn.)
To be continue
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