The practice was different from the tryouts. More intense in some ways, less in others. The full team was there now, all the strings mixing together, running through sets and drills. Khalil and Darius were both running the point guard position, taking turns running the offense against the starting five and the second string.
Khalil moved with this natural fluidity that came from being taller, from having a better vantage point of the court. His passes were crisp. His reads were quick. When he attacked the rim, defenders had to respect his size, which opened up driving lanes he could exploit. By the end of the first practice, it was clear why he'd been chosen. Not just because of his height, but because of how that height translated to on-court advantages.
But Darius wasn't fazed by it. Not really. He'd spent the entire summer preparing for moments like this, for competition that demanded everything from him. When it was his turn to run the offense, he moved with a sharpness that made Coach Martinez nod from the sideline. His ball handling was tight. His vision was elite. His decision-making under pressure was exactly what a point guard needed to be.
Still, at the end of practice, Coach Martinez called them both over.
"Khalil, you're starting at point guard," he said simply. "Darius, you're backing him up. You'll get significant minutes off the bench, but he's the guy."
Khalil nodded like he'd expected it. Darius just listened, his face remaining neutral even though something inside him was shifting, recalibrating. Second string. Backup. Not the starter.
"It's not a slight," Coach continued, looking directly at Darius. "You're a freshman. You've got time to develop. Khalil's a junior and he's shown he can lead at this level. Use this time to learn. Get smarter. Get stronger. By next year, we'll see where you're at."
Darius nodded. He understood the logic. Height was an advantage in basketball. Khalil had three inches on him and two years of high school experience. Of course he got the nod.
But understanding something intellectually and accepting it emotionally were different things.
That night, Darius got home late. His mom had already eaten dinner. His dad was in the living room watching the news. Malik was in their room doing homework, barely looking up when Darius walked in.
"You made the team?" Malik asked, his tone neutral.
"Second string," Darius said, changing into his training clothes immediately. "I'm backup point guard."
"That's good, right?"
"It's not starting."
Darius grabbed his basketball from the corner of the room and headed back out without waiting for Malik's response. His cousin said something, but the words didn't penetrate. Darius was already thinking about the work that needed to happen.
Outside in the driveway, under the single light that illuminated the basketball court his uncle had set up years ago, Darius started working. Ball handling drills. Shooting from different spots. Defensive footwork exercises. Everything he'd been doing all summer, but now with a different intensity, a different purpose.
The Hustle System activated, sensing the focused energy.
OBSERVATION: Increased training intensity detected. Competitive motivation elevated.
SYSTEM LEVEL 26 APPROACHING
An hour passed. Then two. His legs were burning. His shoulders ached. His hands were starting to get numb from the repetitive motion of shooting, but he kept going. Shot after shot. Drill after drill.
His mom called him in around ten-thirty. "Darius, it's late. You have school tomorrow."
"Just a few more minutes," he called back, but twenty minutes passed before he actually came inside.
The next night was the same. And the night after that. By the end of the first week, Darius had fallen into a rhythm that was almost mechanical. School during the day. Practice with the team. Home to train alone until his body screamed at him to stop. Sleep. Repeat.
At practice, when he got minutes, he was phenomenal. He'd come off the bench and run the offense with a precision that made everyone around him better. His defense was suffocating. His decision-making was impeccable. But it didn't matter because Khalil was still the starter.
Two weeks into the season, Darius finally reached Level 26.
SYSTEM LEVEL 26 ACHIEVED
Unlocked: Advanced Competitive Analysis
New Ability: Opponent Weakness Detection in Real-Time
The new ability was exactly what he needed. Now when he was on the court, he could read defensive tendencies instantly. He could identify when a defender was tired, when they were overcommitting, when they were vulnerable. It translated to more steals, better decision-making, and an uncanny ability to exploit gaps in the offense.
One night, about three weeks into the season, Darius got home so late that his entire family was already asleep. It was past midnight. He'd stayed after practice to work with Coach Williams on some offensive reads, then gone to the gym on his way home to put in another hour of work.
His legs felt like they were moving through water. His eyes were heavy. But his mind was sharp in that way that came from pushing through exhaustion. He moved quietly through the house, trying not to wake anyone, and went straight to the backyard.
The basketball court was dark except for the moonlight and the streetlight filtering through the fence. He didn't turn on the external light. Just started working through his drills in the darkness, his body running on pure muscle memory now.
Malik appeared in the kitchen window, looking out at him. He watched his cousin shoot basketballs in the dark for a solid minute, then closed the curtain and went back inside without saying anything.
Darius shot until his shooting arm felt like it might fall off, then did defensive drills until his legs completely gave out. He came inside around one in the morning, collapsed into bed still partially in his clothes, and was asleep before his head really hit the pillow.
The next morning, he woke up to his alarm at five-thirty like always, his body aching in ways that suggested something needed to give. But he got up anyway. Put on his running clothes. Headed out into the early morning darkness.
Because second string wasn't going to keep him out of the conversation. Second string wasn't going to define him. Second string was just a starting point, just a moment in time when circumstances had aligned in a way that wasn't about his talent or his work ethic.
It was about height and experience and timing.
And Darius was going to spend however long it took proving that none of that mattered more than hunger.