Extra Basket-Chapter 203 - 190: Forest vs Vorpal (15)

Score: Vorpal 55 – Forest 52

3rd Quarter

Elijah Rainn walked the ball up.

No wasted movement.

No showmanship.

Just the silent rhythm of a player tuned into the court’s heartbeat.

(So that’s your tempo, Lucas Graves... fine. I’ll match it. And then I’ll bend it.)

His teammates flowed into formation not sprinting, not dragging.

Just drifting, like leaves on a wind he controlled.

Kael Moreno ghosted to the right wing.

Micah traced the baseline arc like a looping shadow.

Ayden Liu rooted in the short corner—baiting for a slip.

Thomas Webb floated to the high post for a phantom screen.

Vorpal shifted.

Anticipated.

Adjusted.

But Elijah wasn’t reacting.

He was composing.

He neared the arc—

Lucas switched onto him in rhythm.

No delay. No hesitation.

Low stance. Balanced feet. Eyes locked to Elijah’s hips.

The gym pulsed quiet.

Two maestros. One beat.

(He’s ignoring my hands... smart. Reads the core instead.)

Elijah bounced left—

Lucas slid with him.

Perfectly timed.

Jab right.

Lucas didn’t twitch.

Then

CRACK!

A lightning-fast behind-the-back crossover.

He split through the gap between the hedge and the help like liquid.

"SWITCH!" Evan barked.

Brandon rotated from the weak side—

Too late.

Elijah leapt inside the paint

.

Mid-air, he twisted

Not a shot.

A sudden torque.

A slingshot bullet angled mid-spin

"KAEL!!"

Corner. Left side.

Kael Moreno’s feet were already set.

Elbow tucked. Fingers spread.

Textbook form.

Release.

Rotation.

Splash.

55 – 55.

Lucas spun, a half-beat behind the pass.

Jaw tight.

(He’s not just predicting us anymore... he’s orchestrating around us.)

Brandon pounded his fist on his thigh.

Evan shouted, "We gotta COMMUNICATE!"

Ryan clapped, rallying: "Let’s go! One play at a time!"

Ayumi stood, eyes wide. "Don’t panic!"

Coach Fred called, "Close that weak side early! Keep talking!"

Elijah jogged back on defense.

Calm. Cool.

Kael slapped his hand.

Micah leaned in, whispered—

Elijah didn’t answer at first.

Then:

"Let’s keep them chasing ghosts."

Vorpal Ball.

Lucas bounced the ball to Evan.

The hardwood echoed louder than usual. Each bounce rang like a heartbeat, loud and hollow. The air felt thinner, like they were playing ten feet underwater.

Evan Cooper #9, stood just behind half-court, eyes locked on the forest of defenders ahead. Five shadows in green and grey. A shifting zone.

No gaps. No anchors.

Only movement.

And behind it all, standing still... Elijah Rainn.

Cool. Quiet. Calculating.

Watching everything.

Evan hesitated.

(We can’t win this...)

(Not like this... not without Ethan...)

He stepped forward barely. His hands shook. The ball came up, but his fingers weren’t sure. The bounce wavered.

Tap. Tap. Ba-dump.

Off-beat.

Micah Vale floated to the edge of the zone, a quiet predator, waiting.

(They’re reading me already...)

Evan’s dribble slowed. He picked it up too early.

His eyes darted to Lucas.

And Lucas... just nodded.

No words.

No play-call.

Just that look.

A quiet, steady spark. One Evan felt but couldn’t grasp.

(I’m not Ethan...)

(I don’t see like him...)

(I don’t have his mind... or his instincts...)

(All I have is—)

A flash.

A memory, sharp and sudden, like a lightning bolt ripping across a dark sky.

Locker room.

Ethan had pulled him aside, towel over his shoulders, sweat still dripping down his face.

"If you doubt your eyes," Ethan had said, voice firm but kind, "then trust your teammates."

Evan remembered blinking at him, confused.

And Ethan had grinned.

"And if you doubt your teammates... trust your legs. Move. Move until the court bends to you."

The court isn’t broken.

You are the movement.

Evan’s grip tightened.

And he dropped the ball into a fresh rhythm.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Controlled. Confident.

Then he exploded off the bounce not straight in, but around.

A loop. A spiral. Pulling defenders with him.

Lucas rotated out to the left wing, a silent predator lurking behind the arc.

Brandon stepped up for a screen at the top. Ryan floated wide to the right.

And for the first time in the entire game...

The Forest had to adjust to him.

To Evan Cooper.

He felt it.

Their eyes flicked. Their feet shuffled. Their line

tilted. Subtly, but undeniably.

The defenders weren’t reacting to Lucas, or Ethan, or anyone else.

They were reacting to him.

Evan gritted his teeth, his fingers tightening on the leather.

He pounded the ball into the hardwood—one dribble. Two.

Low. Sharp. Clean.

Every breath came easier now.

The haze in his chest gone.

The fog in his mind clearing.

(No... I’m not Ethan.)

(But I’m still Evan Cooper.)

He shifted left.

The Forest moved with him.

Fluid. Disciplined. Sliding like liquid green shields.

He slashed back to the right.

They shadowed again.

Zone defense. Organized chaos. Flowing like water.

(Then drown me.)

(And I’ll pull you down with me.)

His heel struck, he launched forward.

Right through the seam.

Between Ayden. Between Kael.

Split them like a blade.

One heartbeat then another.

Kael’s eyes widened. His foot shifted.

Ayden’s hands raised.

Too late.

Lucas darted into open space cutting backdoor.

Evan saw it.

And ignored it.

Instead, he leapt—

Mid-air—

The Forest defense rose like a wave.

Arms. Eyes. Pressure.

He didn’t flinch.

His body twisted sideways

His left hand scooped under the ball

A reverse spin—

Soft.

Perfect.

The ball kissed the glass.

Rolled—

Dropped.

Swish.

The crowd gasped, then roared.

57 – 55.

Evan landed light.

Didn’t celebrate.

Just stared ahead.

The Forest, for a second, had no answer.

Behind him, Lucas let out a low whistle.

Brandon clapped his hands once, hard.

Ryan pointed at Evan with a grin.

Coach Fred raised an eyebrow.

And on the bench, Ayumi leaned forward, whispering—

"That’s the real Evan Cooper."

Kai leapt to his feet, fists pumping as he shouted:

"Let’s gooooo!"

Coonie cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed:

"THAT’S OUR PG!! THAT’S OUR POINT GUARD!!"

Louie launched his towel like a grenade into the air, yelling with wild eyes:

"THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKIN’ ABOUT, COOP!"

Ayumi stood slowly.

Hand over her chest.

Eyes wide, yet glistening.

A smile tugged at the edge of her lips.

Soft. Proud. Unshakable.

"He did it..." she whispered.

Even Coach Fred didn’t hide his approval.

He crossed his arms, nodding with a deep exhale.

"That’s real growth, right there."

On the court, Evan jogged back on defense.

His heart pounded not from the play, but from something deeper.

He glanced at the scoreboard.

57 – 55.

They were still behind.

But something shifted.

Momentum.

Then, his eyes lowered—

To the white band still wrapped tight around his left wrist.

His hospital tag.

Smudged ink.

The name fading.

But the weight of it never left.

He stared at it for a beat too long.

And under his breath, barely audible over the crowd, he murmured:

"Ethan... I hope you’re watching."

The moment passed.

But the fire didn’t.

The Forest brought the ball in.

And Evan Cooper

Was finally here.

The ball was inbounded.

Elijah Rainn The Forest Watcher took it in stride.

No rush.

No signal.

Just rhythm.

The kind of rhythm that didn’t need drums.

He dribbled... tap-tap... tap.

Shoulders loose. Posture relaxed.

But behind that mask of calm...

A thousand branches twisted inside his mind.

(Evan Cooper... you’ve grown. That last play...)

He glanced at Evan, who was now squared up in front of him.

(...was unpredictable. That was improvisation. Emotion.)

Elijah’s grip on the ball tightened just a bit.

He took two steps left.

Evan followed.

Lucas rotated early to cut the angle.

Kael flared out to the corner.

Micah ran baseline.

(They’re reading motion cues...) Elijah’s mind ticked like a clock. (So then... I’ll strip the motion altogether.)

He stopped.

Dead stop.

Right at the arc.

Both Lucas and Evan froze for a beat.

"Zone read?" Evan asked aloud, confused.

But Elijah hadn’t moved.

Then

BOOM.

He accelerated.

Not like water anymore.

Like wind ripping through pine.

He crossed left, caught Lucas’s foot late then spun right

Micah timed it perfectly, a ghost cut from the baseline.

But Elijah faked the pass.

Lucas bit.

Evan turned to recover

Too late.

Elijah jumped.

In mid-air, arms split wide, defenders trailing

(No pass. No delay. Just trust.)

He flicked his wrist mid-hang

A perfect floater over Ryan’s fingertips.

The ball spun...

kissed the front of the rim

Rolled...

Dropped.

57 – 57.

Forest’s bench stood in unison.

Tobias slammed both fists against his chest.

Ayden nodded, whispering, "Sky knows its rhythm."

Micah exhaled, eyes still burning.

Kael just pointed at Elijah and grinned.

Meanwhile—

Lucas clenched his fists.

He turned to Evan.

"Stay ready. He’s not even trying to win yet."

Evan nodded, heart pounding.

"Yeah... I know"

Ayumi stepped forward no longer just observing.

This time, her voice cut through the roaring gym, sharp and electric with command.

"LUCAS! MIRROR MODE!" she yelled, hands cupped around her mouth.

"ETHAN STRAT! LET’S CLOSE THIS QUARTER OUR WAY!"

Lucas’s head snapped toward her.

Their eyes met for a fraction of a second.

That was enough.

(You got it, Ayumi.)

He tapped his chest twice, then pointed forward.

Brandon saw it.So did Ryan.

They didn’t need words.They remembered the drills. The chaos strat. The way Ethan once made a team dance to his rhythm.

Lucas spread his stance.

His eyes flickered across the Forest’s positioning—just once.

And then—

He moved.

To be continue