The morning after the Iron Tide concert, the Flowstate gym felt like a sanctuary. The only sounds were the hum of the air circulators and the steady, rhythmic bounce of basketballs. They had agreed on a simple, quiet shootaround. No experiments, no pressure. Just the familiar comfort of their own court.
Renz worked on corner threes. Bornok practiced free throws. Drei took methodical mid-range jumpers. Riki focused on his handles at the top of the key.
Teo stood near the elbow, quietly stretching his shoulders. Then, without a word, he took three slow steps backward, placing his feet well beyond the three-point line.
Renz noticed first, pausing his routine. "Uh, Teo? You good?"
Teo didn't answer. He caught a pass from the machine, set his feet with a calm deliberation, and rose into a jumper. His form was not the picture-perfect release of a natural shooter; it was powerful, almost mechanical. The ball sailed in a high, deliberate arc.
It dropped through the net without touching the rim.
Swish.
The steady rhythm of the gym halted. Everyone stopped to look.
Drei lowered his ball, his analytical eyes wide. "That was not a post move."
"Again," Riki said, his voice low.
Teo obliged. He caught another pass from the same spot, repeated the motion, and released. The result was identical. A clean, silent swish.
Bornok stared, his mouth slightly agape. "Bro... since when?"
Teo simply looked at his hands, flexing his fingers slightly. "The grip feels different out here."
Riki walked over, his conductor's mind already whirring. "Teo. Do you know what you're holding?"
Teo met his gaze. "A basketball."
"No," Riki said, a slow grin spreading across his face. "You're holding a key. You just pulled a whole defender out of the paint without even moving."
Renz sprinted over, his exhaustion forgotten. "Do it again! I need to see it again!"
Teo took a third shot. Swish.
A stunned silence settled over the team. This wasn't a fluke. It was a pattern. It was a fact.
Their 7'1 center, their anchor in the paint, their silent Titan, could now shoot from the parking lot.
Riki picked up a ball and tossed it to Teo. "Don't stop," he said, his voice firm with newfound purpose. "We're changing the playlist."
The quiet shootaround was over. A new, more potent rhythm was being born.