(Quezon Sports Complex — Late Afternoon)
The sun was still up when they arrived, but the air inside the gym was thin.
Hot, dry, echoing.
The crowd wasn't as loud as Araneta — smaller bleachers, older lights — but every clap bounced off the walls like it wanted to last.
On one side, the Baguio Northern Peaks were already jogging in circles, shirts drenched before the whistle even blew.
They looked wiry, lean, lungs built for mountains.
Their captain, Luis "Summit" Alvarez, tapped the ball against the floor in perfect rhythm — not for noise, but for heartbeat.
Renz watched them stretch.
"Bro, they don't stop moving."
Bornok wiped his neck. "They run like tricycles downhill."
Riki cracked a faint smile. "Then we make them turn uphill."
The opening buzzer screamed, sharp and short.
Flowstate took possession first.
Riki to Renz — cross, pull-up three — clang.
The Peaks rebounded and ran.
Their guards didn't even glance at the rim before the halfcourt line.
Three passes.
Layup.
2–0, Peaks.
Flowstate hustled back, but the next play looked the same.
Run, swing, cut, layup.
4–0.
6–0.
8–0.
By the time Teo touched the ball inside, they were already down double digits.
Thea shouted from the bench, "Settle down! Breathe!"
But it wasn't panic; it was air.
Even breathing felt heavy in this gym.
Renz bent over, hands on knees, second quarter barely starting.
Bornok's jersey clung to his back like a towel.
Drei's shots hit front rim — every one just short.
Timeout.
No words. Just the sound of sneakers squeaking as they shuffled to the bench.
Riki sat down, towel on his head, chest heaving.
"They're playing on air. We're playing on gravity."
Lars leaned in from the end of the bench. "Then stop chasing. Control the climb."
Thea nodded once. "You're in."
When Lars checked in, the pace changed instantly.
He didn't speed them up — he slowed them down on purpose.
He dribbled in place, waiting for the Peaks' guards to twitch.
When they lunged, he slid by like smoke.
Teo stepped up to screen — slow, deliberate — sealing one, then two defenders.
Bornok rolled in behind.
Renz cut through the middle, caught a bounce pass, and finished with a twisting layup.
Finally. Points.
The crowd started to lean forward again.
Next possession — Lars to Riki, Riki to Drei, corner three.
Splash.
The Peaks still ran, but now Flowstate didn't follow — they guided.
They turned pace into patience.
By halftime, it was Baguio 42 – Flowstate 37.
Still down, but breathing again.
Renz sat with a bottle of water pressed to his forehead.
"Feels like my lungs are shrinking."
Bornok laughed between gasps. "Bro, I think my soul's sweating."
Thea looked at them both. "Good. Means you're alive."
Riki tapped the clipboard once. "We're not beating them with speed. We beat them with timing."
He looked at Lars.
"You take lead third quarter."
Lars just nodded.
Third quarter.
Lars opened with a slow dribble, pulling defenders out of their rhythm.
Every bounce had weight now.
Teo caught a high pass inside, faked once, dropped step — bucket.
Next play, Renz hit a fadeaway jumper from the elbow.
Then Drei's three rattled in.
For the first time all game, the Peaks hesitated.
Their cardio didn't matter when the floor started tilting against them.
The rhythm had changed.
Renz stole a pass mid-air, spun, and hammered it down with a one-hand reverse.
The crowd erupted.
The scoreboard flickered: Flowstate 68 – Peaks 66.
Timeout, Baguio.
Their coach yelled, waving his arms, but Flowstate had already tuned out the noise.
Final two minutes.
Tie game.
Everyone running on fumes.
Luis "Summit" Alvarez drove baseline — bumped by Bornok — banked it in.
Peaks up two.
Flowstate answered.
Riki called for space, dribbled twice, found Renz curling off a screen.
Catch. Spin. Pull-up. Net.
Tied again.
Fifteen seconds left.
Baguio ball.
They ran a flare screen, but Lars read it mid-motion — stole it clean.
He sprinted past halfcourt, slowing just before the rim.
Renz called for it, but Lars waved him off.
He waited.
Three... two...
Then dropped it back to Riki.
Riki caught, rose, and floated it high — soft as breath.
Buzzer.
Swish.
The gym exploded.
Renz tackled Riki before the shot even fell.
Bornok yelled something no one could understand.
Lars just stood there, smiling through exhaustion, hands on his hips.
Final score: Flowstate 84 – Baguio Northern Peaks 79.
Thea didn't cheer.
She just exhaled — long, quiet, proud.
Her clipboard was trembling a little.
On their way to the locker room, Riki stopped to look at the scoreboard one last time.
He wiped sweat from his chin.
"First mountain's done."
Renz grinned. "How many left?"
Riki chuckled. "Just the ones worth climbing."
They walked off the court as the lights dimmed, the noise still echoing behind them —
a small gym that suddenly felt like the world.
End of Chapter 4 — "The Peaks"