Chapter 18: Power Moves

Wilt PoV

As the players took a quick water break, the coach gathered them at center court. Wilt, Drew, and Loxus stood at the front, their bodies still humming with the rush of the sprinting drill. The coach's gaze swept over the group, his eyes holding a glint of anticipation. 

"Alright, now that we've gotten the warm-ups out of the way," the coach began, his voice echoing in the silent gym, "I want to see your power moves."

A collective gasp echoed through the gym. Power moves? They were something of a myth in the world of sports, a blend of raw talent, heightened emotion, and adrenaline that manifested as near-superhuman feats on the court or field. Some believed they were remnants of a forgotten age, a time when their species wielded power beyond comprehension. Others argued they were nothing more than illusions, the result of intense focus and willpower. The pros tended to use them. They were rarer at the high school level, but a bit more common at the high school level.

The coach nodded at the stunned silence. "Yes, you heard me right. I want to see what you've got. If you have a power move, now is the time to show it."

Wilt exchanged a glance with Drew and Loxus. Did they have power moves? He wasn't sure about himself. There were times during a game when everything seemed to align perfectly, when he could make a shot from an impossible angle or outrun a faster opponent. Was that a power move, or just luck?

Loxus was the first to step forward, a determined look on his face. With a ball in his grip, he took a position at one end of the court. A hush fell over the gymnasium as he began his move. Suddenly, he seemed to fade into the shadows, his figure becoming a blur. The gym lights didn't flicker, but it was as if he was swallowed by the darkness. 

And then, just as suddenly, Loxus reappeared behind Wilt, sending shivers down his back. The gym erupted in cheers and gasps of astonishment. 

Wilt's eyes widened. That move... The memory of being blindsided, the surprise attack that had injured his leg came rushing back. He had been so focused on the thugs in front of him that he hadn't noticed Loxus sneaking up behind him. Had Loxus used his power move when mugging him?

The coach clapped his hands, a look of approval on his face. "Excellent! Well done, Loxus."

With realization dawning on him, Wilt felt a renewed surge of adrenaline. If Loxus could pull off a power move, so could he. He picked up a ball and took a deep breath. He thought back to those perfect moments on the court, the times when he'd felt invincible. He let that feeling wash over him, fueling his determination.

Wilt walked to the three-point line, his focus solely on the hoop. The court fell into silence as he planted his feet firmly on the ground, the ball held high above his head. Time seemed to slow as he initiated his shot, the world around him fading into a blur. 

As he released the ball, a burst of white light enveloped it, transforming it into a comet streaking across the court. The gymnasium was awash with gasps and murmurs, the players and spectators alike captivated by the ethereal sight. It was a power move unlike any they had seen before, a perfect blend of skill, emotion, and adrenaline that left them in awe.

The ball sailed through the air, the trail of white light painting a path directly to the hoop. It swished through the net, the resulting cheer from the crowd drowned out by the echoing sound of success. Wilt landed softly, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and exhilaration. He had done it. He had manifested a power move.

A round of applause broke out, the coach's clapping the loudest among them. "Outstanding, Wilt!" he praised, a proud smile on his face.

Wilt couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. He had done it, he had shown them his power move. As he rejoined his fellow players, he felt a newfound confidence in his abilities. He had always loved the game of basketball, but now, it felt as though he had unlocked a new level of play, a new connection to the sport.

He smiled and glanced at Drew, expecting him to step up next, but instead it was Sylvester.

The seafoam green haired young man took a deep breath. The ball trembled in his hands.

Drew scoffed. "He's gonna choke."

Wilt shot Drew a stern look. "Give him a chance," he said, his gaze shifting back to Sylvester.

Sylvester's seafoam green hair stood out starkly against the dull colors of the gym, his pale fingers trembling slightly as they gripped the basketball. He looked nervous, his eyes darting across the court, landing on each of his competitors before finally settling on the coach.

"Hey, Wilt," Sylvester called out, his voice trembling slightly with anticipation. "Can you receive?"

Wilt was taken aback. Receive? That was unexpected. But he nodded, moving to stand near the hoop. He watched as Sylvester took a deep breath, steadying himself.

The gym was silent, the anticipation palpable as everyone watched Sylvester. He took a few shaky steps forward before launching into a run, his eyes locked on Wilt.

As he neared the three-point line, Sylvester suddenly pivoted, his body twisting in a swift, fluid motion as he launched the ball into the air. The basketball soared in a high arc, cutting across the court towards Wilt. As it flew, a shimmering wave of light trailed behind it, a beautiful spectrum of colors that reflected off the gym walls.

Wilt was momentarily transfixed by the spectacle, but he remembered Sylvester's request just in time. He leapt, reaching out to catch the ball. As his fingers made contact, he felt a surge of energy, as if the ball was alive. He landed smoothly, the ball now securely in his grip.

His hands burned. That kind of pass was dangerous. 

The gym erupted into murmurs.

Sylvester landed lightly on his feet, a look of relief spreading across his face. He had done it. He had executed a power move.

The coach clapped his hands, a wide grin on his face. "Spectacular, Sylvester! That's what I call a power move!"

Drew looked on in stunned silence, his earlier scoff forgotten. Wilt patted his shoulder, a knowing smile on his face. "Never underestimate the underdog," he said, his eyes still on Sylvester.

Wilt glanced down at his hands, still tingling from the energy of Sylvester's pass. Using that pass in a game would be risky. They would need to find someone who could withstand the recoil.

Drew was next, a smirk playing on his lips as he picked up a ball. "Mine's a bit different," he warned, his blue eyes glinting. His confident demeanor was a stark contrast to Sylvester's nervousness.

Wilt watched, his curiosity piqued. He remembered their high school nationals final, the match that had pitted his team against Drew's. He remembered how, at crucial moments, his teammates had seemed to freeze on the court, their eyes wide with an inexplicable fear. He had always wondered what had happened, and now, he was beginning to suspect he was about to find out.

Drew positioned himself at the center of the court, his eyes scanning his surroundings. Then, he dribbled the ball, the rhythmic bounce echoing in the silent gym. As he moved, he seemed to exude an aura that was almost palpable, a force that seemed to press down on everyone present.

Suddenly, he stopped, his gaze sweeping over the other players. Then, he extended his hand, fingers spread wide, and a wave of energy seemed to ripple out from him. It was like a gust of wind, invisible yet undeniably present. Wilt felt a chill run down his spine, a sense of dread settling in his gut. It was the same feeling he had experienced during the high school final.

The gym was silent, everyone seemingly holding their breath. The coach smiled. "Well, Drew," he said after a moment, "That is certainly... different."

Drew's smirk widened into a full-blown grin. "Told you," he said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. He looked towards the coach, who was nodding with a knowing smile, "That's why you recruited me back in high school, isn't it?"

The coach merely chuckled, "I always recognize potential when I see it."

Wilt shook off the lingering feeling of dread, his mind working to comprehend what had just happened. This was Drew's power move, a psychological attack that instilled fear in his opponents. It was a clever strategy, and Wilt had to admit, a highly effective one. But, unlike his high school teammates, Wilt found that he could withstand it, his determination stronger than the fear. It must've been why he wasn't really affected by it during the actual final.

As the tryouts continued, Wilt found his mind drifting back to Drew's power move. It wasn't flashy like his or as stealthy as Loxus's, or even as physically powerful as Sylvester's, but it was powerful in its own right. It was a reminder that power moves, like the players themselves, came in all forms.

As he left the gym that day, Wilt couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of excitement. This season was going to be unlike any other, he was sure of it. With a team of players each boasting their own unique power move, they were gonna be force to be reckoned with.