GODS — 40 | RAPTORS — 15. The second quarter began before the crowd could exhale. The scoreboard flashed like an omen above the court while the lights washed everything in a clinical glare that left no shadow safe. Commentators' microphones squeaked, then tried to stitch words together, but even their practiced cadence fractured like the rest of the arena. You could hear it in the broadcast feed a tremor under the announcer's voice that the camera could not hide.
"This, this is not just a game anymore," one voice said, too quickly, too thin. "I—uh, folks, I don't know how to explain what we're seeing."
Another voice, deeper, tried to anchor the signal. "They're elite athletes, sure, but this — something about the way they move, the way the Raptors are… pausing. It's like they're being edited out of the playbook in real time."
