Hello everyone,
Before we jump into the action-packed Tournant Arc, we need to take a detour into the Syndicate Arc. This arc is crucial because it directly ties into what happens later in the tournant, and understanding it will set up everything that cos next.
In this arc, we learn about Kairos Valen, the son of a powerful figure in the basketball world, who has been kidnapped. But this isn’t just any ordinary kidnapping. Kairos has been taken by a dangerous individual known only as Sheep. Sheep isn’t just a person; he’s soone who has been working with a secret organization that manipulates events behind the scenes.
What does this have to do with basketball? Sheep and his organization are involved in fixing gas and controlling the outco of major tournants. They use underground basketball leagues to train and test players, manipulating their abilities and turning them into powerful pawns. So of the players who will eventually appear in the tournant may have been influenced or even controlled by The Organization.
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Date: July 16, 2010 – Thursday
Ti: 7:00 PM
Location: The Young Residence, Sycamore Lane – Mouth of Wilson, VA
The door creaked open.
Gerald Young stepped into the house, shaking off the evening chill as if it were nothing. He loosened his tie — slow, casual, practiced.
Then he saw them.
Naia stood at the edge of the living room, arms crossed, face tense.
Brandon, just a few feet behind her, stood frozen at the base of the staircase, his hand still clutching the rail. His eyes locked on Gerald’s like a ghost had walked through the front door.
Gerald’s smile ca easily.
"Oh... what’s that look? Is this supposed to be a surprise?"
"I do live here, rember?"
His voice was light, but sothing in the air tightened the mont he stepped inside.
Naia didn’t move. Her eyes didn’t blink.
"Tell , she said coldly.
Gerald tilted his head. "Tell you what?"
Naia took a step forward. "Where were you last night?"
Gerald chuckled, hanging his coat like he hadn’t noticed the tension threading through every breath in the room.
"Working. As always."
Brandon’s voice cracked out.
"You were near the old tunnel. Near the river bend."
Gerald’s eyes narrowed slightly—just for a second. It passed.
"That so?" he said smoothly. "And where exactly were you that you’d know sothing like that?"
Brandon clenched his fists.
Naia turned to look at her son, startled by the detail. Then she turned back to her husband.
"Why would you be near there, Gerald?"
His smile twitched.
"There’s a facility there. Construction site. Boss asked to check on it. That’s all."
Naia’s voice lowered, colder now. "Construction...? Or sothing else?"
A long pause.
Brandon whispered, barely audible:
"You took them..."
Gerald’s smile finally cracked. His expression stiffened, lips flattening.
"Brandon," he said, tone firm, like he was scolding a child. "I think you’re letting your imagination run wild. It’s that internet, isn’t it?"
But Brandon wouldn’t look away. Wouldn’t blink.
"I saw you," Brandon muttered. "I saw what you were doing."
Naia took a breath—staggered, as if her knees had nearly buckled.
The living room was silent.
Gerald stared at his son, then at his wife. Then Gerald moved past them toward the kitchen, acting like nothing had been said. Like his son hadn’t just accused him of sothing unspeakable.
"You should’ve eaten by now," he said, opening the fridge. "Naia, did you cook anything?"
Naia didn’t answer. She stared at him like she didn’t recognize the man in front of her.
Brandon’s voice cut through the room, low but full of anger.
"Why aren’t you denying it?"
Gerald paused. His hand froze on the refrigerator handle. He didn’t turn around.
"Excuse ?"
"You didn’t say I was wrong. You didn’t call crazy. You just... moved on."
Gerald closed the fridge slowly. He turned around, his face unreadable.
"Because I don’t entertain nonsense," he said flatly. "Not in this house."
Naia stepped in then, quietly but firmly.
"Tell what you’re involved in, Gerald. Look in the eyes and tell nothing’s wrong."
He finally looked at her.
For the first ti... no smile.
"I provide for this family. Everything we have, everything you have, is because I do what I’m told. That’s how the world works."
Brandon’s voice cracked. "You kidnapped those kids..."
Gerald snapped.
"You don’t know what you saw!"
He slamd a fist against the countertop — the sound jolting through the room like a gunshot. The plates in the dish rack trembled.
Brandon flinched, but didn’t step back.
"You don’t understand what’s at stake," Gerald growled, stepping toward him. "You don’t understand what happens when you cross these people. I’ve kept you both safe."
Naia raised her voice—stronger now, her eyes filled with disbelief.
"By hurting children?! By working with them?! What the hell have you done, Gerald?!"
Gerald’s hands trembled slightly at his sides.
"Mind your words..." he warned again, but his voice was softer now—strained. He looked at Naia, at Brandon, then away, like he couldn’t bear to face either of them.
Brandon’s voice cracked, choked by emotion.
"Why, Dad? Why would you help people like them?"
Gerald shut his eyes for a long mont. When he opened them, they glistened—not with guilt, but with sothing like defeat.
"I’m doing this for us," he muttered, voice barely audible. "So we don’t end up like the rest... discarded. Forgotten. Left to starve while they feast."
Brandon took a step forward, fury boiling in his chest.
"You kidnapped that kid. The one from the gym... I saw him! He looked right at like he was begging to help—and you helped the people who took him?!"
Gerald’s breath caught.
He knew exactly which boy Brandon ant.
The boy the Sheep wanted.
"They noticed him," Gerald said quietly, not eting their eyes. "That boy... he’s the son of soone powerful.
Naia’s voice broke.
"Gerald... please. Why would you let this happen? Why would you let them take a child?"
Gerald looked up slowly, finally facing the mother of his child—the woman who once believed in him.
"Because they said if I didn’t help them... they’d take Brandon next."
The room went dead silent.
Brandon’s breath hitched.
Naia took a step back as if slapped.
Gerald’s eyes shimred.
"They knew everything. About us. About Brandon’s school. His routine. They even knew he stays after practice so days. They showed pictures."
His fists clenched.
"I begged them to leave him alone. I said I’d do anything. And they listened."
Brandon stood frozen.
Naia’s voice ca out like a whisper, haunted.
"So you gave them soone else’s child... to save your own."
Gerald looked down.
"Wouldn’t you?"
Brandon’s face twisted in anguish.
Naia looked at Gerald with serious eyes
"No... no, I wouldn’t." Naia wiped her face, her hands shaking. "We were supposed to protect people, Gerald. That’s what being a parent ans. You don’t sacrifice soone else’s child to save your own."
Gerald didn’t answer.
The weight of what he had done—what he had chosen—hung thick in the air.
Finally, Brandon whispered:
"I’m going to make this right."
Gerald looked up in alarm.
"What are you saying?"
Brandon turned toward the stairs.
"If no one else will stop them... I will."
Naia reached out but stopped herself. She let her son go towards upstairs.
Gerald stepped forward, panic in his voice now.
"Brandon, listen to —if you go looking for them, they’ll co for you. And next ti... I might not be able to stop them."
Brandon didn’t look back.
"Then I’ll stop them first."
And with that, he vanished up the stairs, leaving Gerald and Naia standing in a house that no longer felt like ho.
And for the first ti, Gerald Young realized — he wasn’t the protector anymore.
He was the danger.
..
Location: Albarado Residence, Mouth of Wilson, VA
Ethan sat at the edge of his bed, the soft hum of the ceiling fan doing little to quiet his thoughts. His basketball shoes were still on, scuffed from earlier practice, but he hadn’t moved since they ca back from Brandon’s house.
His mind was racing.
Brandon was acting off. Too off.
He rembered the concern in Naia’s eyes—not nervous motherly concern, but the kind of fear that ca from hiding sothing.
He opened the notes app on his phone. The screen was slightly cracked in the corner, but it still worked.
He began to type.
> Strategy: Reach Brandon Young
– Visit when his mom isn’t around?
– Loop Lucas in?
– Try a back route? Roof?
– Write a note and slide it under his door?
– Find soone Brandon would listen to...
He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.
"There’s gotta be a way."
Suddenly, his phone buzzed, vibrating sharply against his thigh.
Incoming Call: Unknown Number
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t recognize the number, but sothing in his gut told him this wasn’t spam.
He hesitated...
Then swiped Answer.
"Hello?"
There was silence for half a second. Then a voice—nervous, quiet, and shaky—broke through.
"E-Ethan...? It’s ..."
Ethan’s eyes widened.
"Brandon?"
Brandon’s voice crackled through the phone, sounding muffled, like he was hiding under sothing—maybe blankets or a vent, trying to stay quiet.
"I—I don’t have much ti," Brandon said, his words rushed, almost frantic. "My mom thinks I’m sleeping, but... listen. Sothing’s happening. They took soone..."
Ethan’s heart skipped a beat. "Brandon, slow down—what do you an ’they’?"
Brandon’s voice trembled with a mix of fear and urgency. "There’s a kid, Ethan. He’s not from around here. I saw him... Kidnapped" His voice was barely a whisper now, as if he feared even saying it out loud would make it more real.
Ethan’s pulse quickened, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. The static on the line made it harder to hear, but Brandon’s words were clear enough to send a chill down his spine.
"What? What do you an?" Ethan demanded, his mind spinning, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.
Brandon hesitated for a mont, taking a shaky breath before he continued, the urgency in his voice almost palpable. "Rember why I didn’t go to school those three days in a row? I couldn’t go, Ethan... because I saw sothing. I saw what my father did."
Ethan froze. His hand gripped the phone tighter, his stomach tightening with dread. "Yeah, I rember. But... what do you an? What did you see?"
Brandon’s voice was barely audible now, barely above a whisper. "I saw them... I saw my dad with those people. The ones who are doing this. They were... kidnapping kids. And that kid, Ethan. They—" Brandon broke off, his voice hitching as if the mory was too much to bear. "They’re hurting him, and my dad is involved. I saw it with my own eyes."
The words hung in the air like a nightmare coming to life. Ethan’s mind raced. Brandon’s father was involved in sothing horrific, sothing that made Ethan question everything he thought he knew about this novel.
"Brandon... where is the kid now? Do you know where they took him?" Ethan’s voice was steady, but inside, his heart raced.
To be continue
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