Lucas's family gym smelled faintly of sweat, leather, and determination. The echoes of bouncing balls from earlier practice still clung to the air, though now the court was silent.

The Vorpal players sat in a half-circle on the bleachers, sweatshirts pulled on, water bottles scattered at their feet.

Ethan stood in the middle, arms crossed, sharp blue eyes scanning the circle. His hair was messy, sticking to his forehead from practice, but his aura was steady unshakable.

Beside him, Lucas leaned against the wall, arms folded, golden eyes like a torch in the dim light. Ayumi sat at the edge with her clipboard, chewing her lip nervously. Charlotte Graves leaned casually against the railing, towel around her neck, observing quietly.

Coonie Smith shifted in his seat, his broad frame hunched forward. His usual sarcasm was gone, replaced by a heavy silence.

Ethan broke it first.

"Alright. You all know why I called this meeting." His voice was calm, but there was steel in it. "It's not about basketball. Not this time."

The room stilled.

Coonie swallowed hard. His fists tightened on his knees.

"It's… about me," he muttered, voice lower than usual.

Ryan tilted his head, frowning. "The cult thing, right? The pastor?"

Louie, ever the loud one, hissed through his teeth. "Yeah tell us what did you see..!"

"Louie," Brandon said quietly, his deep voice cutting through. "Let him talk."

Coonie exhaled, staring at the hardwood floor.

"This is shit... She…" His jaw clenched. "It wasn't her. Not really. She… she belongs to them now."

The silence was thick.

Aiden rubbed his neck, muttering. "So, when you went with her yesterday… What did you see..."

Coonie nodded slowly.

"I was there to watch. To listen. To figure out what the hell they've done to her. And I swear, he's planning something. I don't know what, but I could see it in his eyes."

Josh leaned forward, serious. "Then we're not just talking about your mom anymore. We're talking about all the people following him."

"Well... yeah a cult so," Evan said sharply, his analytical tone making the word sting. "A manipulator preying on grief. That's dangerous."

Ethan finally moved, stepping closer, his gaze cutting through the dim gym like a blade.

"That's why we're here. This isn't just Coonie's fight anymore. This is ours."

Coonie looked up sharply. His usual sass was gone, replaced by something raw.

"Ethan, you all can back out …I… I don't want you all dragged into this. It's my mess."

Ethan's eyes softened just a fraction, but his voice remained firm.

"I told you over and over again…We're a team, Coonie. That doesn't stop when the buzzer sounds. You bleed, we bleed. You fight, we fight."

Lucas pushed off the wall, stepping beside Ethan. His golden eyes glinted like fire.

"And you're not alone. Not anymore. That's what Vorpal means."

Kai, calm and sharp, leaned forward with his hands steepled. "So what's the plan?"

That was Ethan's cue. He took a deep breath, then crouched down, drawing invisible lines across the wooden floor with his finger.

"First, information. Coonie, you'll keep going with your mom, acting like you're warming up to it. Don't push too hard. Gain their trust."

Coonie grimaced. "You want me to play along with those freaks?"

"Yes," Ethan said bluntly. "Play the game until the final buzzer. That's how we win."

He looked at Evan next. "You're detail-oriented. I need you to build a map of this cult. Find out where they meet, who attends, what patterns they have."

Evan nodded without hesitation. "Got it."

"Louie," Ethan said, turning. "Your mouth gets you in trouble, but it also gets people talking. You'll dig for rumors. Anyone in town connected to Delrio, I want to know."

Louie smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Finally, a mission for my big mouth."

"Ryan, Brandon," Ethan continued. "You're our anchors. If anything goes south, if Coonie's in danger—you're the wall we hide behind."

Ryan smirked, tapping his chest. "Hell yeah. Let's see Delrio's goons try to push through me."

Brandon just nodded, steady as ever.

"Josh, Aiden, Kai, backline support. Quiet eyes. You see something, you report it. No moves without me calling it."

Josh adjusted his sleeve, nodding. Aiden's grey eyes sharpened, while Kai gave a subtle smirk.

Jeremy Park raised a tentative hand. "And me?"

Ethan's gaze softened slightly. "You've carried more than enough already, Jeremy. Just stay close. Your loyalty is enough."

The evening air in Virginia was heavy with moisture, the kind that clung to skin and made silence feel thicker. Coonie Smith adjusted his jacket as he walked up the narrow path to the church. The cross at the top loomed against the night sky, its shadow stretching like claws across the gravel.

Coonie thought "(Alright… one wrong move, and I'm fucked. But Ethan's right. If I don't take the shot, we'll never know what they're planning. Time to play my role.)"

Behind him, far enough to remain unseen but close enough to strike if needed, the Vorpal boys had spread out like shadows on a chessboard.

Lucas crouched near the old fence line, hood pulled up, eyes glinting sharp yellow as he whispered to Evan, "Any weird movements, I copy it. No hesitation."

Evan, calm and measured, traced the floor plan of the church from memory, muttering, "Back exit. Windows on the left. Guard rotation every fifteen minutes. If he's not out in thirty, we move."

Ryan cracked his knuckles, smirking under his breath, "Man, this feels like some spy movie shit. Can't believe we're doing this for real."

Brandon gave him a side-eye, voice low but firm, "It's not a movie, Ryan. It's Coonie's life. Shut up and focus."

Louie, restless as always, tapped his foot, whispering, "Yo Ethan, you sure about letting him go in alone?"

Ethan didn't answer right away. His blue eyes were locked on Coonie's figure, watching every step like a coach studying tape. Finally, he said, voice low but steady:

Ethan said seriously "This is his mission. No, my gut tells me this. If we step in too early, we lose everything. We're his cover, not his leash."

Louie nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Inside the church, the air smelled of incense and old wood. The lights flickered faintly, casting uneven shadows across the pews. Coonie slipped into a seat near the back, his eyes sweeping the room. The choir wasn't here tonight. Instead, about two dozen people sat scattered, murmuring prayers under their breath.

At the altar, Pastor Delrio stood, his voice calm, almost hypnotic.

Pastor Delrio said "Brothers and sisters, the world beyond these walls crumbles in sin and chaos. But here, here, we build truth. And tonight… we welcome a soul ready to embrace the light. Stand, Coonie Smith."

All eyes turned. Coonie felt his stomach twist, but he forced himself to rise.

Coonie thought ("(Shit. They planned this. They knew I'd show up. Calm down, play along… just like Ethan said.)"

The congregation began clapping softly, murmuring his name. Pastor Delrio smiled warmly, but those eyes they weren't warm. They were dissecting him, layer by layer.

Pastor Delrio "This young man has been tested by grief, by anger, by despair. And yet, he has come. Tell us, Coonie, why have you returned to us tonight?"

Coonie swallowed hard, his palms slick with sweat. He forced a half-smile.

Coonie  "...Because I want to see what my mom sees. I want to understand."

The church erupted in approving nods and soft amens. Delrio stepped closer, placing a hand on Coonie's shoulder.

Pastor Delrio (softly, so only Coonie could hear) "Good. Then let us show you the path. And when the time comes… you will not resist."

Outside, Ethan tensed. His system interface pulsed faintly in his vision.

Ethan scribbled notes quickly in his journal, his mind running plays as if this were the final quarter of a tied game.

Ethan thought: "He's inside the paint now. But Delrio's running the offense. We can't just foul our way out. We need a steal."

Lucas's whisper cut through: "You see that? The way the pastor touched his shoulder? That wasn't just a welcome. He's staking a claim."

Ethan's jaw tightened. "Yeah. Which means we move sooner than I thought."

Ryan cracked his neck, a grin twitching. "About damn time. Just say the word."

But Ethan shook his head. "Not yet. If we jump now, they'll bury the truth deeper. We need Coonie to dig it up first."

Brandon muttered, "Then pray he doesn't get buried with it."

The team fell silent, each heartbeat syncing with Coonie's steps inside the lion's den.

Back in the church, Coonie sat again as the sermon rolled on. His mother, Korre, was in the front row, eyes closed, lips moving in silent prayer. She looked so peaceful, so convinced that for a split second, his resolve wavered.

Coonie thought: "Is it really brainwashing? Or did she just find something I couldn't give her?"

Then he remembered Ethan's words again:

Ethan's voice (in his head): "Stay sharp, Coonie. Play the game until the final buzzer."

Coonie clenched his fists, pushing the doubt away. No, this wasn't salvation. This was a cult. And tonight, he'd prove it.

The choir wasn't singing, but in his head, the echoes of the court roared louder than any hymn.

The mission had begun.

And outside, a brotherhood waited, ready to move.

To be continue

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