Extra Basket-Chapter 101 - 88: Syndicate Arc (11)

Ethan stirred from the floor, groaning. Blood ran down the side of his face, but he pushed himself upright with trembling arms. The effort alone was painful to watch.

"They’re not the next generation," Ethan said, voice ragged. "They’re shackled by your delusions."

Lucas ran to him, dropping beside him and gripping his shoulder. "Don’t move. You’re hurt."

Ethan shook his head, eyes fierce despite the damage. "Don’t let him win."

Lucas didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

Because at that moment, the command came.

Freeman didn’t speak it aloud. He didn’t need to. A flick of his wrist. A glance. And the children responded.

Their bodies moved with uncanny precision, like dancers in a dark ballet. No hesitation. No confusion. Just instinctive unity. Four of them charged.

Lucas stood first, arms wide, stepping in front of Ethan. His heart pounded like a war drum, but his stance was solid. Louie and Evan flanked him instantly, shoulder to shoulder.

"This is wrong," Brandon whispered. "They’re kids, Louie."

"I know," Louie said. "But right now, they’re going to hurt people. We stop them. And then we save them."

The first impact came fast—a blur of movement, a child lunging low at Evan. He spun aside, barely dodging the strike, and countered with a sweep of his leg that sent the attacker tumbling. The child hit the ground but rolled to their feet in an instant, eerily silent.

Another closed in on Lucas, arms snapping out in sharp, unnatural angles. Lucas blocked the first blow, but the force rattled up his arm. This wasn’t a normal fight. These kids had strength—reflexes—that far outstripped their size.

"They’re enhanced..." he hissed, bracing himself. "Just like Freeman said."

"But they’re not invincible," Evan growled, catching a punch from the smallest girl in the group. He grunted as the impact jolted through him. "We hold them back! Don’t hurt them more than we have to!"

The fight turned brutal fast—close quarters, no time to breathe. The children fought in silence, with mechanical precision. It wasn’t like any basketball game they’d ever played. This wasn’t about speed or skill.

It was survival.

Lucas ducked a kick, rolled, and came up behind one of the kids, pinning him gently but firmly to the ground. "Stop!" he pleaded. "Please, just stop!"

The boy didn’t cry out. Didn’t fight back. He just stared up at Lucas with those strange, altered eyes. It was like looking into a mirror that reflected only what had been lost.

"Come back..." Lucas whispered. "Please come back."

Behind him, Brandon deflected another strike, barely staying on his feet. He turned and shouted, "Lucas!"

Lucas looked up just in time to see two more children rushing in. Ethan met them first, slamming into them with his full weight, taking the hit meant for Lucas. They all went down in a heap.

"Ethan!" Lucas cried.

"I’m fine!" Ethan shouted, coughing. "Focus!"

Freeman stood above it all, hands folded behind his back, smiling.

"You see now?" he called. "This is progress. This is evolution. You can’t stop what’s already begun."

Lucas’s fists trembled as he pushed himself to his feet. He looked at the children, at Freeman, at Ethan barely holding on, and at his friends bleeding for something they didn’t even fully understand.

"No," he said quietly.

Then louder, stronger: "No. You think this is basketball? You think this is what it’s supposed to become?"

He took a step forward. Then another.

"Basketball is choice. It’s passion. It’s falling in love with the game, not being turned into it. These kids aren’t players. They’re prisoners. And we’re gonna free them."

The children hesitated. Something about his voice made them stop. Not fully, not for long. But something in Lucas’s conviction shook the algorithm. Broke the rhythm.

Then a sudden, sharp snap echoed through the lab as one of the children—a boy no older than ten—launched forward. His movement was clean, unnaturally fluid, like a piston being fired from a machine. His feet barely touched the ground before he was upon Lucas.

But Lucas was now ready.

He pivoted, ducked low, and drove his shoulder into the boy’s torso, throwing him sideways. The kid hit the wall and bounced back up without a sound, face still blank, like pain meant nothing.

"Lucas! Louie! Evan!" Brandon shouted, not taking his eyes off the child. "Stay sharp—they’re fast!"

A second child moved—this one a girl, long black hair falling over her face. She went for Louie, limbs slicing through the air like blades. Louie barely managed to block, stumbling backward as her fists hammered against his arms.

Evan caught another before the boy could reach Brandon. With a shout, he swept the kid’s legs from under him and shoved him back with both palms. "Come back!! What are these things... Brandon"

"They’re not things!" Brandon yelled from where he’d slumped against the wall, his voice rough with fury. "They’re kids! That’s what makes it worse!"

Freeman watched with eerie calm, hands folded behind his back, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Do you see now? Look at what they can do. That’s not training. That’s pure instinct, wired into them at the core."

"SHUT UP!" Lucas roared, launching forward again, this time not at a child—but at Freeman.

But a wall of limbs met him.

Two more children intercepted, moving in terrifying sync. One swept his leg in a low arc, aiming to take Lucas’s feet from under him, while the other struck for his temple with the precision of a boxer. Lucas dodged the first, blocked the second, and retaliated with a palm strike to the taller boy’s jaw. It connected—but the boy didn’t even flinch.

Lucas staggered back, shaking out his hand.

"They can’t feel pain... not like us," he muttered, sweat beading his brow.

"They’re programmed," Ethan growled, pushing himself upright. "Conditioned to suppress pain. They’re not even conscious of it. Just... acting."

Louie ducked under a wild swing from the girl with black hair. His lip was split, and his breath came fast, but he stood tall. "How do we stop them without hurting them?!"

"That’s the point," Freeman said from behind the chaos. "You can’t."

Evan gritted his teeth and surged forward. He tackled one of the smaller boys to the ground, pinning his arms. "I don’t want to hurt you," he said to the boy, whose blank eyes flicked up at him with no emotion. "Snap out of it, man! You’re not a machine!"

The boy snarled—actually snarled—and headbutted Evan so hard the older boy was knocked backward, dazed.

Freeman stepped toward Ethan, who now stood leaning against a control panel. "And you... you could’ve joined them, you know," Freeman said, voice almost sad. "You had the potential. You still do. I saw it in your performance. The anger. The fire."

"I’m not yours to control," Ethan spat, lifting his head. "I’ll never be one of your freaks."

Freeman sighed. "A shame. You would’ve been perfect."

Then—something shifted.

Ethan pushed off the console with a grunt, standing taller despite the pain. His legs trembled, but his voice didn’t.

"Lucas," he called, loud enough for the room to hear. "Go for the control node. Upper right panel—it’s marked in red. I think that’s what’s syncing them. This bastard thought anyone won’t notice it."

Lucas spun toward the corner of the lab. A glowing red panel pulsed faintly in the shadows. It was built into the containment console. As if responding to the attention, one of the children broke formation and charged to intercept.

"I got it!" Lucas shouted, breaking into a sprint.

Freeman’s smile faltered.

"Stop him," he said.

Three children moved at once.

Brandon threw himself in their path. "NO!"

The collision was brutal. Brandon slammed into one of them mid-stride, grabbing the child in a bear hug and taking the hit. The momentum carried them both into the wall. "GO!" Brandon screamed through gritted teeth as the other two children advanced.

Lucas didn’t stop. His shoes screeched against the blood-slicked tile as he lunged for the panel. A sharp cry behind him told him Evan had jumped into the fray, grappling with one of the two remaining blockers. That left one more.

Lucas gritted his teeth and jumped, rolling across the console top as the last child reached for his throat. His hand slammed into the red panel—

—and a pulse of light rippled through the room.

The children froze.

One by one, their heads tilted—jerky, confused. Their glowing eyes flickered. Then dimmed.

They swayed in place like puppets with their strings cut.

Silence fell.

Freeman’s calm expression shattered into something twisted and raw. "No... no. You don’t get to stop progress! You’re children! You don’t know what this means!"

Lucas stood tall, chest heaving, his voice ice-cold. "I know exactly what it means."

Freeman snarled and lunged at him.

But this time, it wasn’t a child who intercepted him—it was Ethan.

He slammed his shoulder into Freeman, sending the man sprawling to the ground.

Ethan loomed above him, battered but unbroken.

"You’re done," he said.

Freeman shocked then just laughed and said, "Oh, am I?"

Suddenly, the lights in the lab flickered. The ground trembled under heavy footsteps. From the shattered entry corridor, a dozen armed mercenaries stormed in, heads reflecting the overhead lights, assault rifles raised and aimed squarely at Ethan and the others.

Their leader, a massive man with a scar down his cheek, stepped forward. "Orders were clear. Secure Freeman. Eliminate any interference."

"Great," Louie muttered, wiping blood from his brow as he stumbled to Lucas’s side. "Because robot kids weren’t enough."

Lucas glanced at Ethan. "We’re too beat up for this."

Freeman rose to his feet, blood running from the corner of his mouth, eyes alight with triumph. "You think you’ve won something? That stopping the children was the end? Your fucking wrong!!"

To be continue