The text came at 6:17 AM on a Thursday.
Michael: The dynasty is over. Now the real work begins. Are you ready?
Alvin stared at the screen. His heart was heavy. His mind was clear.
The dynasty is over. But the work isn't. I'm not done yet.
He got dressed and walked to the gym. The building was quiet. The players were gone. The season was over.
But the work wasn't.
His phone buzzed.
Michael: You awake?
Alvin: Yeah.
Michael: Same time?
Alvin: The Cage. Don't be late.
---
The Cage was the same as always.
Cracked asphalt. Rusted rims. Chain-link fence. Motion sensor lights that flickered weakly.
Michael was already there, a bag of basketballs at his feet.
"You're early," Alvin said.
"So are you."
"How's State?"
"Good. We're building something."
"How's the rebuilding going?"
