"Man, I really think you have the chance to accomplish what we brothers couldn't back then."
Harden's words stunned Durant. He froze for a moment, his eyes turning complicated as he looked at the man he once regarded as his own younger brother.
For an instant, it felt like he'd slipped into another lifetime.
Ever since that Seattle SuperSonics plane had landed, Durant had been forced to pack up and move to Oklahoma.
How many times had he dreamed of chasing basketball's highest glory alongside his mentor and his brothers?
But fate had scattered that young, fiery squad to the winds long ago.
Durant thought he had already buried the reckless dreams of his youth.
Yet, with just one sentence, Harden made him realize—he had never truly forgotten those years.
"Don't worry, man."
Durant nodded firmly.
"It might still be early to say this, but I'll carry all your hopes with me. I'll keep moving forward until we win that championship we dreamed of."
Hearing that, a faint, relieved smile spread across Harden's face.
"That's all I needed to hear, big bro!"
It was the first time in ages he'd called him that again—"big bro."
"Then keep moving forward," Harden said, his tone shifting, "by any means necessary."
"Step over my corpse if you have to—use it as your stepping stone to grab that damn championship for us!"
"I will."
Durant's eyes stung. He couldn't hold it in any longer and pulled his brother into a tight hug.
"But don't get too comfortable," Harden whispered softly in Durant's ear, savoring the long-lost familiarity of that embrace.
"In the next game, I'm not holding back. If you can't handle it, I won't hesitate to take that ring for myself."
"Hahahaha!"
Durant burst out laughing—loud and genuine, the kind of laugh he hadn't let out in years.
"You? Beat me? Not a chance!"
After chatting for a while longer, Durant said goodbye to his once-beloved brother and headed toward the players' tunnel.
"I saw you and Harden hugging and chatting forever. What were you two doing out there?"
Butler, who had been standing by the tunnel entrance, couldn't hold back his curiosity.
Durant shot him a teasing look.
"Didn't know you were the gossipy type, Jimmy."
"Hey, just curious!" Butler shrugged, unfazed by the jab.
"I'm really interested in all that brotherhood drama between you guys. Come on, give me the details."
"Get out of here."
Durant chuckled, pushing Butler's head away.
"Just catching up, that's all. What else do you think we'd talk about?"
Seeing Butler's disappointed face, Durant brushed it off and walked toward the locker room without looking back.
"Tch, boring."
Butler clicked his tongue, signing a jersey a fan handed him by the tunnel before jogging to catch up.
Malone was already waiting at the locker room door, smiling.
"Well, look who finally decided to come back."
He stepped aside, letting them pass. "Alright, let's get this post-game meeting done so everyone can rest early."
Post-game meetings had become a Kings tradition—time to review what went wrong and set the tone for the next matchup.
"You guys played really well tonight," Malone said, pacing slowly across the locker room.
"Even if we didn't completely shut down Harden, our defensive effort was enough to seal the win."
"As for the next game's plan…"
Before he could finish, Durant silently raised his right hand.
"Coach."
After hesitating for a moment, Durant spoke.
"I'd like to request my full green light again—unlimited shooting privileges starting next game."
As soon as he said it, the locker room fell silent.
"What's happening?"
Ben, sitting at the far end, swallowed nervously.
At a time like this, Durant's words sounded… risky. Like something bigger was brewing.
"What do you mean by that?"
Malone looked at Durant, caught off guard.
"I don't mean anything else," Durant said quickly, realizing how it might have sounded.
He stood up and waved his hands slightly.
"It's just—I can tell Harden isn't going to give in that easily."
His tone hardened.
"If we're going to take them down, I need to face him head-on and beat him myself. One on one."
Malone's tense expression finally eased.
"In that case, no problem. I approve it. Next game, you have unlimited shooting rights."
"CJ, Booker!"
Meanwhile, on another court, things were far from as calm…
...
"Attack him! Hit that mid-range!"
Popovich's hair was a mess as he barked orders, waving the clipboard in frustration.
Across from him, Leonard stood drenched in sweat, his face expressionless but his eyes sharp, nodding firmly.
This showdown between the Spurs and the Warriors was nothing short of a clash of titans.
Four quarters had come and gone, and neither side had managed to pull ahead. It was now in overtime.
"Green, push up! I don't care how you do it—just get Curry an open shot!"
Steve Kerr's neck flushed red as he shouted across the court.
Just like last year's Spurs vs. Kings duel, both sides were burning with intensity now.
Neither team wanted to yield—each was determined to claw out the win, no matter what it took.
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser