Before the Battle

He pulled up his NBA System in his mind, letting his eyes scan through the numbers.

Physical Attributes:

Height: 5'2" (157 cm)

Weight: 102 lbs (46 kg)

Strength: 27/100

Agility: 32/100

Stamina: 40/100

Vertical Jump: 25/100

Basketball Attributes:

Ball Handling: 31/100

Passing: 35/100

Defense: 21/100

Steal: 25/100

Block: 15/100

Rebounding: 20/100

Post Defense: 15/100

Perimeter Defense: 25/100

Shooting:

Free Throw: 45/100

Midrange Shot: 33/100

Layup: 41/100

Dunk: 0/100

3-Point Shot: 26/100

Shooting off the Dribble: 30/100

Badges:

Bronze Catch & Shoot

Bronze Clutch Shooter

Bronze Floor General

A week ago, these numbers felt like a joke. Too low. Too raw. But now? Now he understood what they meant. What they represented.

Every time he stepped on the court, he could feel himself getting sharper. His movement was more natural, his shots more fluid. The game was slowing down for him, even when the pressure was at its highest.

That Lakeview game? He had been in control. Maybe not all the time, but enough. Enough to lead, to adjust, to take over when it mattered.

And the system had recognized that.

His hand instinctively curled into a fist as he thought about the Floor General badge.

He had expected to improve as a shooter, maybe even as a ball handler first, but this? This badge changed everything.

It wasn't just about his own game anymore. It was about how he elevated everyone else.

The moment he stepped on the court, his teammates were sharper. More aware. More in sync. He wasn't just scoring buckets—he was orchestrating the entire game.

That was the next step. Becoming a true leader.

Because scoring was great, but leaders controlled the game. Leaders dictated tempo. Possession. Mentality.

And if he could get to that level? If he could reach a point where he was seeing plays before they even happened?

No middle schooler in Chicago would be able to stop him.

His grip tightened around the edge of the bleachers.

But he wasn't there yet.

Hyde Park Prep was next. A team that would test his ability to control the court under pressure. A team that would force him to make split-second decisions, to read defenses at a higher level than before.

If he wasn't careful, they could break him.

He wasn't going to let that happen.

Lucas exhaled, rolling his shoulders.

No slowing down. No shortcuts. No comfort.

He was going to outwork everyone.

Friday, September 7, 2018

The sound of an alarm buzzing snapped Lucas awake. His eyes opened immediately, no grogginess, no hesitation. Game day.

The feeling had already settled in his chest the night before. That familiar thrill of competition, the anticipation of stepping onto the court with something to prove. It didn't matter that they had already beaten Lakeview—Hyde Park Prep didn't care about that.

Lucas sat up and stretched, rolling his shoulders as he mentally prepared for the day ahead. If the first game was about proving they belonged, this one was about proving they could keep winning.

After a quick check of his NBA System, he noticed no immediate attribute boosts, which was fine. He knew his improvements weren't always going to come from the system alone—hard work mattered.

He changed into his school clothes and headed downstairs, the smell of eggs, toast, and coffee drifting from the kitchen. His mom, Maria, stood by the stove, flipping eggs onto a plate, while his dad, Steven, was already sipping his morning coffee.

Maria turned, smiling. "Mijo, you excited?"

Lucas smirked as he grabbed a seat at the table. "More like ready."

Steven chuckled. "That's what I like to hear." He leaned back in his chair. "Hyde Park's a fast team, right? They're gonna try to speed you up."

Lucas nodded between bites. "Yeah. They press heavy, force turnovers. If we panic, we're done."

Maria set another plate of eggs down, shaking her head. "I don't know how you handle all that pressure."

Lucas grinned. "It's kinda fun, actually."

Steven smirked. "That's how you know he's a hooper."

Maria gave a playful sigh before ruffling Lucas's hair. "Well, just don't forget to breathe."

Lucas chuckled, brushing her hand off. "Got it, Mom."

His dad set down his coffee. "Speaking of the game… you ever think about filming these?"

Lucas blinked. "Filming?"

Steven nodded. "You know, for game film analysis. Watching yourself play is a whole different way to improve."

Lucas sat back, thinking. That actually made a lot of sense. He had studied NBA players before, pausing and rewinding clips to see how they moved, how they read defenses.

But watching himself? That could be next level.

Maria chimed in. "Not to mention, you could post clips on social media."

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Social media?"

She shrugged. "That's how kids get noticed these days, right? Highlight videos, mixtapes—people love that stuff."

Lucas tapped his fingers on the table. He hadn't really thought about it before, but she wasn't wrong. A lot of young players were getting exposure through Instagram, YouTube, even Twitter.

Not that he was thinking about going viral or anything, but if he could build a presence early, it might help him in the long run.

Steven smirked. "Think about it. But for now, focus on winning."

Lucas grinned. "Oh, don't worry. That's already locked in."

The hallways of Lincoln Park Middle School were louder than usual. By now, everyone knew about the game. The Lakeview win had put them on the map, and students who barely cared about basketball were suddenly paying attention.

Miguel caught up with Lucas at his locker, tossing an arm over his shoulder. "Bro, you feel it? That energy? We're kinda famous now."

Lucas smirked. "Relax. It's one game."

Miguel scoffed. "Nah, man. We took out Lakeview. If we win tonight, we're officially a problem."

Jaylen walked up, nodding. "Yeah, but Hyde Park is different. They live off momentum. If we let them get a rhythm, it's gonna be a dogfight."

Lucas closed his locker and leaned against it. "That's why we don't let them. We control the tempo, don't let them speed us up."

Miguel grinned. "And if that fails, we just hit 'em with some deep threes."

Jaylen rolled his eyes. "If you take some wild heat-check shot, I swear—"

Miguel held up his hands. "Bro, have some faith."

Lucas chuckled. This was their dynamic—Miguel the confident sharpshooter, Jaylen the steady enforcer, and him? He was the one who kept them focused.

They made their way through the school day, but Lucas's mind was already in the game.

The team sat in the gym classroom, their jerseys already hanging in their lockers, the game just a few hours away. Coach Harrison stood at the front of the room, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

"Alright," he started, scanning the team. "Let's talk."

Silence fell over the room.

"We're 1-0, but that means nothing if we don't keep building." His voice was even, but there was an edge to it. "Hyde Park? They don't care that we beat Lakeview. They're coming for us hard."

He paced slightly. "They run a full-court press all game. They're fast. Relentless. The moment you hesitate? They take advantage."

He looked at Lucas. "Turner, you're going to have the ball in your hands a lot tonight. You can't just be strong—you have to be smart."

Lucas nodded. "I'll control the pace."

Coach turned to Jaylen and Evan. "Bennett gave you trouble last game, but Hyde Park's bigs aren't as strong. You two need to own the paint."

Jaylen cracked his knuckles. "We got it."

Coach turned to Miguel. "And Soto?"

Miguel grinned. "Yeah, yeah. Smart shots only."

Coach smirked slightly. "That'd be a first."

The team laughed, but the seriousness of the moment lingered.

Coach took a deep breath. "We win this game, we send a message. We show everyone that last week wasn't a fluke. But it's not gonna be easy."

He paused, then his voice lowered.

"So tell me—how bad do you want it?"

Silence.

Then Lucas spoke. "Bad enough to fight for it."

Miguel grinned. "Bad enough to light 'em up."

Jaylen nodded. "Bad enough to make 'em respect our name."

Coach's smirk returned. "Then let's go handle business."