LeBron’s Worst Nightmare.

The day before the NBA Finals tipped off, the Cavaliers landed in Los Angeles. Coach Michael Malone gave the team the day off—no practice, no film study, just a chance to relax. Of course, he warned them not to get reckless.

This was L.A.—a city built for distractions.

Han Sen tried to rest at the hotel but found himself wide awake. So instead, he grabbed Cunningham and headed to the Staples Center practice facility.

What he didn't expect—was to already hear the sound of a basketball bouncing inside.

When they stepped in, they saw Kobe Bryant and his trainer, soaked in sweat, locked in a shooting drill. He'd clearly been at it for a while.

So it wasn't just Han Sen who couldn't sleep tonight.

Han didn't walk over to greet him. Instead, he silently started shooting on his own. Eventually, after a few drills, Han sat down to rest—and that's when Kobe approached him.

After a brief greeting, Kobe sat beside him, talking as if they were old friends catching up.

It felt strange to Han Sen.

They weren't that close.

In fact, as someone who had built his name by stirring controversy, he had slandered Kobe countless times—second only to LeBron.

But he understood. When a player's career is winding down, they tend to soften up.

Kobe's career was in its final moments. And deep down, Han Sen knew he had helped Kobe a little during this year's All-Star Game.

Han wiped his face with a towel, glancing at Kobe. "Can't sleep either?"

Kobe smirked. "You think I got this far by sleeping?"

Han chuckled. "Fair enough."

For a moment, neither spoke. Just the sound of bouncing basketballs filled the empty gym.

Then Han broke the silence.

"You know, Kobe… you might wanna keep an eye on LeBron."

Kobe raised an eyebrow. "That right?"

Han leaned back, resting his arms on the bench behind him. "Wade thought they were brothers. Then one day, he woke up and found out he wasn't the guy anymore. Just saying—LeBron's history with 'brothers' isn't exactly great."

Kobe nodded slowly, processing the words. "You trying to start some shit, or is this friendly advice?"

Han grinned. "Little bit of both."

Kobe shook his head. "You really are a piece of work."

"I try."

Kobe took a sip from his water bottle. "You better be ready, though. I'm locking your ass up."

Han laughed. "That's cool. I'll be busy locking up LeBron. And trust me, if he ain't getting his stats, he's not playing defense."

Kobe just stared at him for a second, then sighed, shaking his head. "I don't even know why I'm talking to you."

Han shrugged. "Because deep down, you like the bullshit."

Kobe stood up, draping his towel over his shoulder. "See you on the court, Han."

Han watched him leave, then picked up a ball and went right back to work.

Because if there was one thing he knew for sure—

this Finals was going to be war.

---

Not long after, Han Sen heard footsteps.

More people had arrived.

To his surprise, it was Mo Williams and Delonte West.

With Cunningham already here, that meant…

The old Cavaliers had assembled.

Han smirked. "Couldn't sleep either?"

Both nodded.

LeBron's recent comments had basically erased everything they fought for in Cleveland—like none of it mattered.

Of course, they couldn't sleep.

Han tossed a ball to Mo. "Alright, no point just shooting around. Let's run it—2-on-2."

And just like that, the intensity ramped up.

Then—more footsteps.

Han turned toward the entrance.

To his absolute shock…

Nikola Jokić walked in.

Han blinked. "Hold up—you're putting in extra work?"

Jokić shrugged. "Big games mean big moments."

Han couldn't believe it.

Jokić? Working overtime? This had to be some kind of cosmic sign.

Then he remembered—Jokić had a reason.

The championship meant a horse.

That was all the motivation he needed.

Before Han could process it, another player walked in.

Kyrie Irving.

Han sighed. "Let me guess. Can't sleep?"

Kyrie grinned. "Nah, man. I've been waiting years for this."

LeBron.

This wasn't just another Finals to him.

And just like that—Malone's entire plan to keep the team loose and relaxed was officially ruined.

---

By the time Game 1 arrived, the NBA's hype machine was running at full throttle.

The Warriors' unexpected elimination had shut the door on another chapter of the Cavs-Warriors saga, but in its place, something even bigger had taken shape—a battle for power.

Nike vs. Under Armour.

Kobe's Last Dance.

LeBron's shot at his first ring.

Han Sen, ready to seize his legacy.

With the league pushing every possible storyline and viewership already shattering records before tip-off, the intensity in Los Angeles had reached an unreal level.

Even Lakers season ticket holders—normally laid-back, Hollywood-casual—were on their feet, buzzing with anticipation.

---

NBA Finals Pregame Show – TNT Broadcast

Inside Staples Center, the TNT crew sat courtside, soaking in the energy of an arena packed to the brim with celebrities, legends, and anxious fans.

On the court, the Lakers and Cavaliers warmed up, finalizing their game-day routines before stepping into the fight for basketball immortality.

The cameras panned to Ernie Johnson, sitting alongside Shaquille O'Neal, Charles Barkley, and Kenny Smith at the TNT panel.

"Welcome, everyone, to the NBA Finals on TNT! The stage is set—Han Sen and the Cleveland Cavaliers take on Kobe Bryant, LeBron James, and the Los Angeles Lakers in what promises to be an unforgettable championship series."

"Fellas, we've got storylines on top of storylines. Kobe's Last Dance. LeBron's shot at his first ring. Han Sen looking to cement his legacy. What are y'all thinking heading into this matchup?"

Shaq leaned forward, rubbing his hands together.

"Ernie, let me tell you right now—this series ain't about LeBron. It ain't even about Kobe. It's about Han Sen. The man is built for these moments. You saw what he did to Miami? That Game 6 logo shot? He's the most dangerous player on this court."

Kenny nodded but wasn't ready to dismiss the Lakers that easily.

"You're not wrong, Shaq, but let's not act like this is gonna be easy. Han Sen is facing two guys who were both the face of the league at one point. The Lakers have more star power, more championship experience. And let's be real, this is Kobe's house. You think he's letting anyone walk in and take this from him?"

Chuck scoffed, shaking his head.

"Lemme stop you right there, Jet. I love Kobe—he's one of the greatest competitors ever. But I don't know if his legs can hold up for a seven-game series. And LeBron? Man, I don't trust him in these moments! Every time it gets tough, he shrinks!"

The screen flashed to highlight LeBron's biggest postseason failures—2010 vs. the Celtics, 2011 vs. the Mavericks, 2012 vs. Grizzlies.

Chuck pointed at the clips.

"Look at this—2011 against Dallas? Shrunk. 2012 against Han's Grizzlies? Swept. 2010 against Boston? He checked out! LeBron gotta prove he can win before I believe it."

Shaq sighed, rubbing his temples.

"C'mon, Chuck, you just hatin' now. Look, I got my issues with LeBron too, but this is the best team he's ever had. Kobe and Love can space the floor. He's got a real big man in Mozgov. And Deron Williams—well, okay, maybe not Deron—but the rest of the squad is legit!"

Ernie glanced at the panel.

"Alright, let's break it down. Biggest key to this series—what's the one thing that'll decide who wins the championship?"

Kenny tapped his pen on the desk.

"Han Sen's ability to control the pace. The Cavs play through him, and he dictates everything. If the Lakers can throw him off—make him work for everything—then they have a shot."

Chuck waved him off.

"Nope. The key is LeBron. If LeBron plays like a real number one guy, the Lakers win. If he plays passive? Lakers are toast."

Shaq wasn't convinced.

"The key is the paint. If the Lakers dominate inside, Han's gonna have to shoot his way to a title. And yeah, he can shoot from anywhere—but can he keep it up for seven games?"

With tip-off approaching, Ernie posed the final question.

"Alright, quick picks before we get this started. Who wins Game 1?"

Kenny: "Lakers. Han's gonna have a big game, but I think LeBron and Kobe set the tone early."

Chuck: "Cavs. Han Sen's the best player in the world right now, and best player wins Game 1."

Shaq: "I got the Cavs too. Han's been in these Finals moments before. The Lakers? They still gotta prove it."

As the TNT crew wrapped up, the camera zoomed in on Han Sen, locked in during warmups, draining threes effortlessly.

A few feet away, LeBron was going through his pregame ritual, tossing chalk into the air, while Kobe adjusted the tape on his fingers.

The crowd roared as the players took their final warm-up shots, the battle seconds away from beginning.

Ernie's voice carried over the scene:

"Alright, we'll see how it plays out. When we come back—tip-off from Staples Center! It's the NBA Finals on TNT!"

---

Starting Lineups

Cleveland Cavaliers:

- Kyrie Irving

- Han Sen

- P.J. Tucker

- Tristan Thompson

- Nikola Jokić

Los Angeles Lakers:

- Deron Williams

- Kobe Bryant

- LeBron James

- Kevin Love

- Timofey Mozgov

This Lakers lineup?

It was basically a supercharged version of the Cavaliers team LeBron once led.

Now it made sense why the Warriors lost.

---

Mozgov won the tip, giving the Lakers first possession.

Right out the gate, LeBron and Mozgov ran a pick-and-roll, leading to a powerful dunk.

2-0, Lakers.

But on the very next play—

Kyrie dusted Deron Williams off the dribble, forcing Mozgov to help, then dropped it off for TT, who finished at the rim.

2-2.

Five minutes in, the score was tied at 10.

Jokić's rim protection had improved over the playoffs, but against a prime, enhanced LeBron, it was clear—he was struggling.

But the real problem for the Lakers?

Deron Williams.

---

This Lakers roster reminded people of the infamous 2004 Lakers superteam—the one built around Shaquille O'Neal, Kobe Bryant, Karl Malone, and Gary Payton.

And just like that team, Deron Williams was in the same awkward role as Gary Payton.

On paper, this was a juggernaut.

But in reality?

It wasn't as smooth as it looked.

Back in 2004, the Lakers ran the Triangle Offense—a system that didn't demand much from its point guard beyond three simple tasks:

1. Move the ball.

2. Feed the stars.

3. Space the floor.

Derek Fisher thrived in that role.

Gary Payton? Not so much.

He was a ball-dominant playmaker, not a catch-and-shoot guard. The fit was clunky, but because of his name and reputation, he had to start anyway.

And now?

Deron Williams was in the exact same predicament.

This Lakers team revolved around LeBron and Kobe—especially LeBron.

The ideal point guard next to him?

A 3&D specialist like Dellavedova.

But Deron?

He was another ball-dominant, pick-and-roll guard—bad off the ball, worse on defense, and with his knee issues, his lateral quickness was practically nonexistent.

And the worst part?

Kyrie didn't even need a screen to blow past him.

---

Everything Han Sen told Kobe last night was just mind games. But Kobe? He meant every word.

From the opening tip, he locked in on Han Sen defensively, giving him everything he had.

But now, he had no choice but to switch onto Kyrie.

Because there was no way in hell Deron Williams could guard Han Sen—he could barely stay in front of Kyrie, let alone Han.

And as soon as LeBron switched onto him, Han's excitement shot through the roof.

Malone had assigned him to guard Kobe tonight. In his eyes, letting Kobe get into rhythm was a bigger threat than LeBron scoring.

So he couldn't battle LeBron on defense.

But now, on offense?

Oh, this was gonna be fun.

Han palmed the ball in one hand and motioned for everyone to clear out, flashing LeBron a friendly smile—one only a former teammate would understand.

A pump fake.

A hard dribble into a crossover.

A sudden pull-up fake.

A spin move, followed by an up-and-under step-through.

LeBron's reaction time was elite—enhanced by his ridiculous athleticism. But physics was physics, and Han's every movement could have seamlessly turned into a real shot.

LeBron had no choice but to react to all of them.

And to the crowd? It looked like he was just getting played.

Like a puppet on strings.

Staples Center erupted.

LeBron turned his head, throwing a desperate look at Kobe.

Help me.

He thought he could handle Han after that Christmas game.

Reality had slapped him in the face again.

But Kobe? He just ignored him.

What, you think guarding Kyrie is any easier?

LeBron had the size, but Kyrie was faster. He'd just get cooked even quicker.

Frustrated but keeping it inside, LeBron took it out on offense instead. He barreled into the paint off a pick-and-roll, forcing Tristan Thompson into a foul and heading to the free-throw line.

Malone had already adjusted, switching TT onto Mozgov after seeing Jokić struggle.

But this version of LeBron—this high-speed, downhill battering ram?

Unless you had prime Dwight Howard waiting at the rim, it was nearly impossible to stop.

As LeBron lined up for his free throws, Malone pulled Han aside.

Han nodded, jogged back to his spot, and—once again—flashed that former teammate smile at LeBron.

LeBron felt a chill run down his spine.

This dude was definitely up to something.

LeBron made one free throw, keeping the game tight.

Han went right back at him. Before the Lakers' help defense could collapse, he hit a sharp crossover into a mid-range pull-up.

LeBron lunged for the block—missed by an inch.

The shot hit the front rim.

LeBron exhaled in relief.

Finally, a stop.

But then—his eyes went wide.

Because suddenly—Han was back in his vision.

Wait—wasn't he just shooting?!

How the hell—?!

Before LeBron could react, Han had already grabbed his own rebound, putting it back up before the defense could recover.

Bucket.

LeBron's superhuman reflexes had saved him from getting completely cooked on that first shot.

But against Han Sen?

That only meant Han already knew it was off and was one step ahead for the rebound.

"Stay locked in, LeBron," Kobe muttered, walking past him.

Against Han, you couldn't lose focus for even a second.

LeBron clenched his jaw.

He didn't respond, but his frustration was building.

So he took it out on offense again.

He called for the ball.

But wait—why the hell was Han Sen guarding him now?!

That uneasy feeling from the free-throw line?

Confirmed.

Han had baited him into thinking they'd keep their defensive matchups normal.

Now, he was on him.

LeBron didn't even hesitate.

He tossed the ball straight to Kobe and moved to the weak side, standing there with his hands on his hips.

Nah.

Not dealing with this.

He wasn't about to get into some mind game battle with Han.

Kobe, meanwhile, had no idea what was going through LeBron's mind. All he saw was Han switching onto him, which meant—it was time to score.

LeBron, however, was about to hear it.

"Kobe really got you working overtime, huh?" Han teased.

"You're guarding the toughest guy on defense… and he's making you create on offense too."

"Man, I thought y'all were teammates."

LeBron stayed quiet.

But his expression said everything.

Kobe attacked P.J. Tucker, driving into the lane, absorbing contact, and finishing the and-one.

Staples Center exploded as Kobe pumped his fist in celebration.

He meant what he said—he was leaving everything on the court for this title.

Han just smirked.

"Man, he makes you guard the toughest guy and puts all the scoring pressure on you," Han said, shaking his head.

"He's the real smart one here."

LeBron's brow furrowed.

Kobe sank the free throw.

14-14.

Han brought the ball up.

This time, he called Jokić for a screen.

But before the big man could even set it—Han was gone.

A lightning-quick crossover.

LeBron froze.

Just for a split second.

And that was enough.

By the time he recovered, Han was already in full acceleration mode, driving straight to the rim.

LeBron sighed—he wasn't catching him.

Jokić, meanwhile, had stopped mid-screen, blocking off Mozgov completely.

Elite basketball IQ.

And now?

Nothing but open air between Han Sen and the rim.

BOOM!

A thunderous tomahawk slam.

The crowd went wild.

In just a few possessions, Han had put up six straight points on LeBron.

And this dunk?

LeBron didn't even react.

He had already given up on the play before Han even took off.

Han didn't even flex.

Didn't even turn to the crowd.

Instead, he turned his head—right at Kobe, who had been trying to rotate over.

And grinned.

"I told you, Kobe!" Han called out.

"When LeBron ain't scoring, he stops playing defense!"

His voice echoed across the arena.

LeBron froze.

Wait—what?!

I WAS DEFENDING!

Han was just too damn fast!

But before he could even argue—he saw it.

The look Kobe was giving him.

That legendary Kobe Death Stare.

LeBron gulped.

He could feel it.

Kobe wanted to kill him.

-End of Chapter-