Coach Martinez called for substitutions at the five-minute mark. "Khalil, take a breather. Davis, you're in at center. Henderson, Williams—you're in too."
Khalil walked to the bench, his body still humming with that flow state energy. He sat down, towel draped over his shoulders, and closed his eyes.
The noise of the gymnasium faded.
Everything faded.
Game Time: 4:47
In his mind, Khalil stood in the middle of a white space that stretched infinitely in all directions. No walls. No ceiling. No floor he could see. Just whiteness and himself, standing there with a basketball in his hands.
He dribbled once. The sound echoed through the emptiness.
In this space, there was no resistance. No defenders. No pressure. Just pure basketball in its most elemental form. He visualized every movement his body would make when he returned to the court. Every cut. Every screen. Every rotation on defense. His mind was rehearsing while his body rested, preparing for the final push.
He rose up for an imaginary shot. Perfect form. Perfect rotation. Perfect arc.
Swish.
Even in his mind, he could hear the net snap.
Game Time: 4:23
On the court, Crossline's rotation players were working hard, trying to maintain the twelve-point lead Khalil had built. But Riverside smelled blood. They sensed the absence of that dominant presence in the paint.
Jaylen Carter came off a screen and hit another mid-range jumper. His twentieth point of the game.
Crossline 96, Riverside Academy 86
Game Time: 3:58
Crossline's offense stagnated without Khalil's gravity pulling defenders. Their backup center missed a layup. Their spacing got congested. Riverside capitalized immediately.
Marcus Reid grabbed the rebound and immediately passed to Carter in transition. Carter drove coast to coast and finished with a layup.
Crossline 96, Riverside Academy 88
Game Time: 3:31
Eight-point game. The lead was evaporating.
Crossline tried to answer, but their shot selection was rushed. A contested three-pointer from their backup shooting guard clanged off the rim. Reid grabbed the rebound—his fifteenth of the game—and immediately looked up court.
Game Time: 3:09
Riverside pushed the pace. The ball moved quickly from Reid to their point guard to Carter on the wing. Carter caught it in rhythm and rose up for another mid-range jumper.
Nothing but net.
Crossline 96, Riverside Academy 90
Six-point game. The momentum had completely shifted.
Coach Martinez stood up from the bench, his arms no longer crossed. He was seeing it happen—the lead slipping away, the energy shifting, the crowd getting nervous.
Game Time: 2:44
Crossline's backup point guard brought it up, trying to steady the ship. He called for a set, but the execution was sloppy. A bad pass led to a turnover. Riverside grabbed it and attacked immediately.
Carter again. This time driving into the paint and finishing through contact.
And one. He made the free throw.
Crossline 96, Riverside Academy 93
Game Time: 2:19
Three-point game. The twelve-point lead had become three in less than three minutes.
Martinez looked down the bench. "Khalil! You're back in. Henderson, Williams—stay ready."
Khalil opened his eyes. The white space vanished, replaced by the chaos of the gymnasium. The noise rushed back in like a wave—crowd chanting, buzzers, sneakers squeaking, coaches shouting.
But he wasn't overwhelmed by it. He'd prepared for this moment in that white space. His body knew what to do.
Game Time: 2:06
In the stands, Darius leaned so far forward Connor thought he might fall over the railing. "Here we go," Darius muttered, his eyes locked on Khalil as he checked in at the scorer's table.
Khalil jogged onto the court, and something about his body language made every person in the gymnasium pay attention. Not just the home crowd. The Riverside fans too. Even the players on the court seemed to feel it—that presence returning, that dominance reasserting itself.
Game Time: 1:52
Crossline had possession. Jonathan brought the ball up and immediately looked inside. Khalil was posting up on the left block, Davis back on him, trying everything to deny position.
The entry pass came. Khalil caught it, backed Davis down with one powerful dribble, then spun baseline and rose up.
The hook shot was automatic.
Crossline 98, Riverside Academy 93
Game Time: 1:38
Five-point lead restored. The home crowd breathed a collective sigh of relief.
But Riverside wasn't done. Carter brought the ball up himself this time, his dribble controlled, his eyes scanning for an opening. He crossed half court and immediately attacked Jonathan off the dribble.
Game Time: 1:21
Carter drove into the paint, where Khalil was waiting. Carter adjusted mid-air, releasing a floater that should have been impossible to make with Khalil's hand in his face.
It went in anyway. Carter was unconscious now, operating in his own kind of zone.
Crossline 98, Riverside Academy 95
Three-point game again. One minute left in the quarter.
Jonathan brought it back up, and immediately the offense ran through Khalil. The ball found him on the right block this time. Davis was fronting him desperately, trying to deny the entry pass.
Game Time: 1:04
Jonathan lobbed it over the top. Khalil caught it above his head, came down with it, took one dribble toward the basket—
Then stopped.
He was standing at the three-point line. Twenty-five feet from the basket. His positioning was perfect, his balance centered. Davis was still recovering from fronting him, now scrambling to close out.
Darius's breath caught in his throat. "No way. He's not—"
Khalil rose up and shot a three-pointer. From twenty-five feet. With a center's shooting form that somehow looked textbook perfect anyway.
The ball arced through the air, rotating backward, the entire gymnasium holding its breath.
It hit the back of the rim, bounced straight up, and dropped through.
Crossline 101, Riverside Academy 95
Game Time: 0:51
Six-point lead. The crowd exploded. Not just cheering. Shock and celebration mixed together.
In the stands, Connor grabbed Darius's shoulder. "Did he just—"
"Yeah," Darius said quietly, his eyes never leaving Khalil. "He did."
Khalil jogged back on defense with no celebration. No emotion. Just that same focus he'd carried all quarter. Like hitting three-pointers from twenty-five feet was just another thing he could do when necessary.
Game Time: 0:38
Riverside tried to respond. Carter brought it up, attacked immediately, got into the paint. He kicked it to Reid on the left block. Reid caught it, backed down Marcus Thompson, and went up for a power layup.
Khalil rotated from the weak side. His hand reached the ball at its apex.
Block. Clean. Emphatic.
The ball flew out of bounds, but the message was sent. Again.
Game Time: 0:24
Riverside inbounded with twenty-four seconds left in the quarter. They ran a set designed to get Carter an open look. The ball swung from side to side, forcing Crossline's defense to rotate constantly.
Finally, Carter got it on the left wing with his defender a step behind. He rose up for another mid-range jumper—the shot that had been falling all game.
But Khalil was there again, his defensive instincts putting him in perfect position. The contest was suffocating.
Carter's shot—which had looked good off his fingertips—clanged off the front of the rim.
Khalil grabbed his sixteenth rebound.
Game Time: 0:11
Jonathan brought it up with time winding down. The crowd was on its feet, sensing something special was about to happen. Jonathan crossed half court and immediately looked for Khalil.
Khalil caught the ball at the top of the key. Thirty-five feet from the basket. Absurd range for anyone, let alone a center.
Davis was closing out, his hand reaching toward the ball. But Khalil was already rising, his form perfect despite the distance, his confidence absolute.
Game Time: 0:04
The shot left his hands with three seconds on the clock. The ball arced through the air, impossibly high, rotating perfectly.
Every eye in the gymnasium tracked its flight.
It hit nothing but net as the buzzer sounded.
End of Third Quarter: Crossline High 104, Riverside Academy 95
The gymnasium exploded. Students were jumping on each other. Parents were screaming. Even some Riverside fans were shaking their heads in acknowledgment of what they'd just witnessed.
Khalil's third quarter statline: 16 points on perfect shooting, 6 rebounds, 3 blocks. Including two three-pointers from beyond NBA range.
As both teams walked to their benches, Darius sat back in his seat, his mind processing what he'd just watched. This wasn't just Elite Eight basketball. This was something else entirely.
In the white space of Khalil's mind, he'd visualized dominance. On the court, he'd executed it flawlessly. Every shot. Every block. Every decision. Everything had gone exactly as he'd prepared for in those moments of meditation.
And for Riverside Academy, watching their hopes evaporate with each impossibly difficult shot Khalil made, the message was clear:
There was no comeback. Not tonight. Not against this.
Khalil Thompson had entered a realm where basketball became art, and they were just witnesses to a masterpiece being painted in real-time.
The fourth quarter was about to start, but everyone in the building already knew how this story would end.