Chapter 108: Chapter 108
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Two more possessions—maybe.
No room for hesitation.
Dirga inhaled through his nose.
GodFrame—Tempo Sight: Activated.
The world didn’t slow down.
His consciousness detached, lifting—like a drone rising above the court.
He no longer saw the game from behind his eyes.
He hovered above it all—untouched, unseen, omniscient.
The court transformed.
Lines sharpened. Colors faded.
Everything—everyone—reduced to motion and intent.
layers became silhouettes of energy. Blue trails for Horizon—calm, synchronized, flowing like a current and Red trails for Toyonaka—erratic, reactive, faster but easier to read.
Each player dragged behind them a comet trail of movement.
Arcs of where they were—echoes of where they’d be.
Every breath, every shift in weight, every twitch of muscle—it was all data.
Predictable. Patterned. Beatable.
From above, Dirga spotted the moment.
Yuto’s weight shifted—barely.
A hint of overcommitment to the right wing.
He’s reading me. Good.
Now let him believe he’s winning.
Dirga’s body—still in real time—exploded off the dribble.
One step left. Two dribbles. Hesitation.
Yuto mirrored. Tight defense. Posture perfect.
But he didn’t know what Dirga already saw.
Rikuya rotated into high-post.
Aizawa looped off a down screen, dragging Daichi.
Rei circled baseline, then popped up weak side.
Toyonaka’s zone shifted in perfect sync...
They’d been drawn into the script.
He no-looked the pass behind his back to Rei, who caught it with clean space on the arc.
Red trails collapsed inward—too late.
Rei pulled the trigger.
Dirga was still above it.
Watching. Calculating. Breathing outside of time.
From this aerial vantage, Toyonaka’s offense wasn’t a threat.
It was a puzzle—one he’d solved before the pieces finished moving.
Masaki received the inbound from Yuto.
His body—a supernova of red light.
Traillines of acceleration, hesitation, explosion—flaring in all directions.
But Dirga had seen it.
He knew the beat before the song dropped.
Masaki started right.
Taiga bit for half a second—but Rikuya was already collapsing.
His blue aura formed a wall.
But Masaki wasn’t attacking.
Dirga saw it before Masaki even made the eye flick.
Daichi was the real threat—flaring out to the corner.
His motion arc flared clean red—no obstruction.
Dirga snapped into action.
In the real world, it was a blur.
But from above—it was like chess.
He broke from his assignment and lunged to the corner.
Masaki rifled the pass to Daichi.
But Dirga was already there.
The ball ricocheted off his hand. A scramble.
Taiga dove. Shunpei dove.
Loose ball. Transition.
"Go!" he barked. Rei took off down the left lane. Aizawa filled right.
The play was already forming in his head.
GodFrame still humming.
They didn’t push it this time.
Not every moment needed to be a hammer.
Sometimes, the scalpel was deadlier.
Dirga slowed. Called the set.
Yuto pressed up—relentless.
Masaki looked over his shoulder, sweat dripping off his jawline.
But this wasn’t just a game of scoring anymore.
And Dirga was the one holding the strings.
He turned back to face the play.
Still 19 seconds left on the God Frame clock.
It means 22 more second before the game end
So it is the last possession
Dirga try to slow down the game
To make sure this is the last posesion
The world didn’t move in seconds.
It moved in beats. Frames.
Yuto pressed up, aggressive.
But Dirga didn’t see a defender.
He saw a red flame trying to devour space.
Overheat it, and it flickers.
Yuto mirrored—hips still square. Impressive. But not flawless.
Dirga didn’t attack the man.
He attacked the rhythm.
A feint—inside. A jab—high.
Yuto’s foot lifted a half-inch too far.
Dirga pulled back, called a horns set.
Rikuya and Taiga stepped up for a double screen.
Aizawa on the weak-side corner.
Rei trailing the top arc.
The GodFrame showed all:
Masaki, already inching toward the strong side. Predictable.
Shunpei, eyes flickering toward Rei. Vulnerable.
Haruto, slow to hedge the screen. Heavy.
Dirga slipped through the screen.
Yuto fought over it—but a second too late.
Haruto stepped up—but not far enough.
Dirga turned his body mid-step.
His eyes locked on Aizawa—but it was bait.
Rei, curling from the back, caught the ball in perfect rhythm.
In Dirga’s GodFrame vision—it was already done.
Ayaka stood high in the cheer zone, arms lifted like a conductor.
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Masaki caught the inbound.
End of 1st Quarter – Horizon 19, Toyonaka 12
Dirga exhaled sharply, chest rising and falling like waves crashing after a storm.
The vivid overlays of motion trails and glowing auras dissolved into sweat, sneaker squeaks, and the blinding light of the arena.
The real world snapped back in.
Heat. Noise. Pressure.
But the rhythm he carved into the court—it was still there. Still pulsing.
In the corner of his vision, Masaki stared at him across the hardwood.
His eyes weren’t wide with surprise.
They were calm. Calculating. Daring.
On the other end, Yuto crouched low, hands on his knees, chest rising like a piston engine.
Still breathing. Still burning.
Toyonaka wasn’t broken.
But they were off tempo—dragged out of their beat, chasing Horizon’s rhythm.
He was just getting warmed up.
"OHHHHH!! What a first quarter! That wasn’t just basketball—that was war on the hardwood!"
"Like a hurricane! Tempo swinging back and forth—offense to defense, defense to mind games!"
"Dirga versus Yuto... the court generals clashing head-to-head! Dirga running the tempo like a composer, and Yuto—man, locking him down like he had the key to the whole gym!"
"But Dirga showed us something else today. Defense too. Especially against Toyonaka... like he’s seen their whole playbook."
"Yeah, and on the other side? Masaki going at Rikuya and Taiga like a demon. That crossover, that step-back—he’s making his statement."
"A true rivalry—feels like they’ve played together for years. Like watching brothers fight... but this time? They’re on opposite sides."
"I’m telling you, if that’s how the first quarter went down... we’re in for something legendary."