The next morning, Casa de Imperium was alive again — the air filled with the steady rhythm of footsteps, chatter, and the occasional drone of announcements from the digital bulletin boards. Students in sleek uniforms moved like gears in a well-oiled machine, every second accounted for.
Amid that order, Uno Perez stood out like a flare.
With his rolled-up sleeves, loose tie, and bright grin, he looked more like a celebrity who accidentally wandered into a university than a student. A few girls waved at him as he passed; Uno winked back, of course, because why not?
In his hand was a freshly printed poster — bold crimson letters that read:
CASTILLIAN TRYOUTS — CASA DE IMPERIUM BASKETBALL TEAM REFORMATION
"Greatness isn't born — it's built."
Sign-ups: Court 3, South Gym.
He stepped up to the bulletin board, humming a tune, and began to pin it up.
"Perfect," he said to himself, brushing the corners flat. "Let's build an empire."
He barely had time to take a step back when —
Snatch.
The poster was gone.
Uno froze mid-motion, staring at his now-empty hand. "...huh?"
Behind him came a voice — loud, sharp, brimming with self-assurance.
"I'll join this team!" The voice declared, full of energy and zero hesitation. "If it's Casa's next big thing, then you're looking at its star right now!"
Uno blinked, slowly turning around. The culprit was still holding the poster, waving it like a victory flag as he spoke to someone beside him.
The voice didn't stop — it filled the entire hallway, confident to the point of arrogance. Every word was punctuated with a grin you could practically hear.
"Basketball's nothing without showmanship! If you're going to make a team here, you need someone who knows how to make the crowd roar!"
Uno sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He could already hear Mico's calm, cutting tone in his head:
"Too confident."
"Egoistic."
"Prideful."
Yup. Mico would definitely say that.
Uno exhaled, trying to calm himself before things got messy. "Alright, alright, let's not start the drama before breakfast—" he muttered, turning around to retrieve the poster.
But he stopped.
Because when he finally looked up at who the loud stranger was talking to, the words caught in his throat.
His grin faded. His expression shifted — from annoyed, to curious, to something between surprise and disbelief.
The crowd noise around them seemed to fade for a moment.
Uno just stood there, eyes fixed ahead.
Whoever that person was — the one the loud stranger was speaking to — wasn't just anybody.
---
"Bro, look at this!"
Jairo Roman laughed as his friend waved the crumpled poster in front of him. They were standing just outside the South Hall, surrounded by the buzz of students changing classes. The morning light spilled through the glass walls, catching the gold tint of Jairo's hair and the easy smile that never seemed to leave his face.
"Basketball team, huh?" Jairo said, tilting his head to read the poster. "Casa de Imperium's bringing it back?"
"Yeah!" Hus friend said, puffing his chest. "And I'm joining. They need new blood — someone loud, someone flashy. Basically, me."
Jairo laughed, shaking his head. "You mean someone who can't even dribble straight when the cafeteria floor's wet?"
"Hey! That was one time!"
Their voices carried across the hall, light and carefree. Jairo had that kind of warmth that drew people in — his laughter was contagious, the kind that turned heads without trying. He leaned against the wall, listening as his friend continued bragging about how he'd "carry the team."
Then, suddenly —
A firm hand landed on his shoulder.
Not a tap. A grip.
Jairo blinked and turned his head. The man who grabbed him wasn't angry — far from it. His expression was focused, eyes sharp and oddly bright, studying Jairo from head to toe like he was trying to solve an equation.
Jairo didn't know him, but Uno looked at him the way a treasure hunter looks at a long-lost relic.
"Uh…" Jairo said, confused but still half-smiling. "Can I help you?"
Uno didn't answer right away. He just took a slow step back, his grin slowly spreading — wide and knowing.
Then, with the same sudden energy his friend had shown earlier, Uno reached out and snatched the poster right out of the friend's hand.
"Hey! What the—"
Uno ignored him completely, waving the poster in front of Jairo's face instead. The words CASTILLIAN TRYOUTS flapped with the breeze as Uno's grin deepened.
"I found you," Uno said, voice brimming with excitement. "The final piece."
Jairo blinked, pointing at himself. "Me?"
"Yeah, you." Uno gave a satisfied nod, eyes glinting. "You're joining the team."
The friend gawked. Jairo froze.
Jairo blinked, still half-smiling but clearly lost. "Wait— hold on. You want me to what?"
"I said," Uno repeated, grinning as he waved the poster again, "you're joining the team."
"Team?" Jairo echoed, pointing at the paper like it was written in another language. "That team? The one Daniel just—"
"Snatched from my hand," Uno finished smoothly, turning his head to Daniel with a mock glare. "Yeah. That one."
Daniel crossed his arms, puffing out his chest defensively. "Hey, I was gonna join too! You can't just pick him and skip me!"
Uno smirked. "Trust me, man. You don't want to hear what my Captain would say if you did."
Daniel raised a brow. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
Uno leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as if quoting scripture. "Too confident. Egoistic. Prideful."
Daniel froze for a moment, then frowned, offended. "That's harsh! He hasn't even met me yet!"
Uno shrugged casually, folding the poster under his arm. "He doesn't need to. That's just how he is. My Captain doesn't choose players by how loud they are— he reads people like a system. One look, and he knows."
Daniel groaned dramatically. "That's unfair! You can't judge someone just by looking!"
Uno chuckled, stepping back beside Jairo. "Welcome to Casa de Imperium, bud. That's exactly how he works."
Jairo scratched his head, caught between laughing and being concerned. "So… this captain of yours just knows?"
Uno gave him a confident grin. "Exactly."
Jairo exchanged a look with Daniel, who was still sulking under his breath. Whatever kind of team this was, it clearly wasn't going to be normal.
And yet, something in Uno's tone — that mix of certainty and charm — made Jairo curious.
Jairo crossed his arms and leaned slightly forward, a mischievous grin forming on his lips. "Alright then, if your Captain's that confident— how about we prove him wrong?"
Uno blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Jairo said, gesturing between himself and Daniel, "me and Daniel here will try out first. It's unfair if you just randomly pick people based on how they look. You can't call that scouting."
Daniel nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! We'll show your Captain that he's not the only one who knows talent when he sees it."
Uno chuckled at their energy, pocketing the folded poster. "You really don't know what you're asking for."
"Then take us to him," Jairo challenged, hands on his hips. "Let's see how this so-called 'Captain' judges people in person."
Uno gave them a long, amused look before sighing and turning toward the hallway. "Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."
---
The Engineering Department was quiet — the kind of quiet that hummed with concentration and the faint buzz of machinery. When Uno opened one of the workshop doors, the two newcomers peered inside… and froze.
There, seated before a drafting table surrounded by holographic schematics and metal blueprints, was a young man in a half-zipped Engineering jacket. His dark hair was tousled in a way that looked effortlessly deliberate, and his sharp eyes glowed faintly under the white light of his tablet screen. Every motion of his hand was clean, precise, and calculated — like a machine designed to create perfection.
Mico Cein Esguerra.
The heartthrob genius of the Engineering Department. The rumored prodigy who built drones for Imperium projects before turning twenty. The face that dominated every campus gossip forum — from academic debates to anonymous crush lists.
Jairo's jaw dropped. Daniel's wasn't far behind.
"Wait— him?!" Daniel hissed, gripping Jairo's shoulder like he'd just spotted a celebrity. "That's Mico Cein Esguerra?!"
"The Mico Cein Esguerra," Jairo whispered back, eyes wide. "The Iron Scholar of Casa de Imperium… and you're saying he's forming a basketball team?!"
Uno just smirked, leaning on the doorway. "Told you he wasn't someone you can just 'prove wrong.'"
Mico finally looked up from his drafting table, his sharp gaze cutting straight toward them. For a second, Jairo swore he felt the air shift.
The room went still.
Uno's voice broke the quiet, almost teasing, "They said they want to have a tryout."
Mico's eyes, sharp and unreadable, lifted from his tablet. The single glance was enough to silence the two. Jairo felt his spine straighten on instinct while Daniel's confidence visibly deflated. Mico didn't say anything at first; he just looked — studied — with that calm, dissecting stare of his that made people feel like they were made of glass.
Then he stood, sliding his pen behind his ear and crossing his arms.
"Tryout?" He said simply, his tone level but heavy.
Uno smirked quietly. "Yeah. They said it's unfair for you to pick without testing them first."
Mico's gaze swept over Jairo from head to toe — his stance, his shoulders, even the way he breathed. "You." He pointed at Jairo. "Accepted."
Jairo blinked, taken aback. "Wait— what?"
Daniel's mouth fell open. "What do you mean accepted?! We didn't even start yet!"
Mico turned his head toward Daniel, still calm. "Because there's no need to."
"That's not fair!" Daniel snapped, crossing his arms.
Mico tilted his head slightly. "Fair? You want me to be fair?" He walked closer, stopping just a few steps from Daniel. His gaze was direct, dissecting. "You're clumsy. All bark, no bite. You talk big, but I can already tell — the ball will fall from your hand before you can even bounce it."
Daniel froze, mouth open, then turned red in the face. "That's— that's not true!"
Uno chuckled under his breath, whispering, "He's doing it again."
Mico didn't bother defending his claim. He just returned to his table, calmly picking up his pen. "If you really want to join the Castillian, train your confidence and your grip. Otherwise, you'll just warm the bench."
Daniel clenched his jaw. "So you're saying I can't even try?"
"I'm saying," Mico replied without looking up, "that if you keep insisting with that attitude, the bench will be your only place."
Silence hung heavy in the room. Jairo looked at Daniel, then back at Mico, unsure what to say.
Daniel's hands curled into fists. "Forget it," he muttered, his pride stinging more than his temper. "I don't need a team that judges people before seeing them play."
And with that, he turned and stormed out of the room.
The door shut behind him with a hard thud.
Mico finally looked at Jairo again. "Welcome to Castillian." He said plainly, then went back to sketching his plans as if nothing happened.