How will the Sooners pull off their final attack? Coach Jeff Capel stood frozen on the sideline, watching his team. This was one of the most nerve-wracking moments he'd faced since taking over the Oklahoma Sooners. Capel didn't make his message complicated. Get the rock to Blake. All he could do now was trust his best player. Fourteen seconds left. The Sooners inbounded cleanly. Taylor Griffin threw a bruising screen to give his brother space at the top of the arc. For original chapters go to novel_fіre.net The crowd roared, a messy mix of voices from fans, players, and coaches. Blake didn't wait. Didn't hesitate. Twelve seconds left—he attacked. Lowered his shoulder and drove straight in. Lin Yi slid into position, fast. Bodies collided—hard. The refs didn't blow the whistle. In March Madness, you earn your buckets. No freebies. Blake didn't care. The rim was the only thing in his vision now. He powered through, cradling the ball tight in one hand. One step. Two. But Lin Yi had seen this before. He jumped, timing it just right. Blake was explosive—but Lin had the wingspan. If it came to a dunk contest mid-air? Lin was winning that one. But then—Blake did something no one expected. Mid-air. In the clutch. Smartest move he made all game. Just seconds ago, his eyes were red. He wanted blood. But now? He adjusted. Trusted. Taylor Griffin was trailing the play—perfect timing. Wildcats' forward Anthony Beasley lost him for just a split second. Taylor hammered it home. Sooners up. The crowd went dead silent. Blake and Taylor chest-bumped. But even as the buzzer-loving crowd held their breath, Coach Capel was already screaming. "GET BACK! GET BACK! THE GAME'S NOT OVER!" That snapped the Wildcats fans back into it too. He wasn't standing around. He'd already inbounded. Steph Curry caught it deep in the backcourt. Baby-faced but locked in. The Sooners team flew toward him. Steph sprinted across halfcourt, defender all over him. They trapped him near the logo. No space. No shot. Steph didn't even look. He just knew. He fired the pass backward to Lin Yi, who had just crossed halfcourt. Lin caught it in stride. There was no space left. Blake had dropped back, cutting off his drive. No time to dribble. No time to think. He planted. Leaned forward. Let it fly. Not a clean form. Not picture-perfect. Just raw, desperate, and pure. The court went silent as the ball arced high. The form was awkward—but the spin was clean. The strength? Perfect. "OH. MY. GOD!" Reggie Miller practically leapt out of his chair. "LIN JUST HIT A FREAKING HALF-COURT GAME WINNER!" Wildcats win. A half-court clutch moment. It was madness. It was magic. Davidson's gym erupted. The roof nearly came off. Steph sprinted to Lin and leapt up for a hug, screaming. "BRO! BRO! YOU KILLED IT! WE WON! WE FREAKING WON!" Lin's face was a mix of shock, joy, and utter disbelief. He hugged Steph tight. Is this what it feels like? To hit the game-winner? To silence the world? "I love this game!" Lin shouted, tears in his eyes. Teammates swarmed them—chaos, joy, disbelief. McKillop was still shaking his head, laughing. "This kid… unreal." Coach Jennings blinked. "I've imagined a hundred endings. Not this. Never this." Last March, Steph passed up a game-winner. This March? He passed again. But this time, he had Lin. A teammate he trusted. "A star's born tonight," said Javier Stanford, fist in the air. Already writing headlines in his mind. The crowd was chanting, crying, filming, celebrating. Blake Griffin walked slowly toward Lin and Steph. He stuck out his hand. "Congrats, man," Blake said, calm, composed. "You earned it." Lin took it, nodding. "Respect. You guys balled out." Blake smiled. "See you in the regional finals." Yeah. We'll be there. The road to the championship only gets harder from here. This game is going down in history.