The Following Day:
Liam sat in the corner of the cafe, nursing a cup of bitter black coffee. The hum of conversation around him blurred, his mind focused only on the one thing that mattered now. Tusk.
The team was gathered at a round table in the back, sprawled out in mismatched chairs. They were only a day away from their showdown with Tusk, the quarterfinals. A game that could change everything for them. A game that could catapult them to the semi-finals or send them home with nothing but bruised egos.
Daniel was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, staring out the window. His face was unreadable, but Liam knew what was going on in his head. The pressure. It was a lot to carry.
"Alright" Coach Nolan's voice cut through the chatter, dragging everyone's attention to him. "We've got one day. Tomorrow, we've got a scrim against Evil5, and after that, we face Tusk. Let's figure out how we're going to make this work."
The table went quiet.
Matt leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his eyes sharp. "We know Tusk. We've studied their playstyle for weeks. They're strong, methodical, but they've got weaknesses. We can exploit those."
Ava was twirling a pen between her fingers. "Their mid-control is too dominant. If we shut them down early, they lose their rhythm. We've seen it happen in their games."
Clara nodded. "We can't let them set up their tempo. The moment we give them space, they'll take it. We need to force them out of their comfort zone."
"Right" Coach Nolan said, tapping his fingers on the table. "We've got to disrupt their flow. Keep them off balance. But we also need to be more aggressive. Tusk thrives on methodical pacing. We've got to throw that out the window."
Liam shifted in his seat. "We've got the firepower. We've got the synergy. What we need now is the confidence to go in and take it from them. If we hesitate... that's when they'll punish us."
"I agree" Daniel said, still looking out the window. "But we've got to have a plan. We can't just go in there and hope for the best. We need a strategy that will make them sweat."
"We'll start by attacking their weak points" Matt suggested. "Their bottom lane is always left vulnerable in the early rounds. If we can push hard from the get-go, we can force them into uncomfortable positions."
Liam glanced at the rest of the team. "So, we're going for early aggression?"
"Exactly" Coach Nolan said. "We'll apply pressure right from the start. If we can force them into a defensive stance early, we'll control the tempo. They'll struggle to adapt."
Ava leaned in. "And when they do adapt, we keep them guessing. Misdirection, fast rotations, mixed strategies. Don't let them predict our moves."
Liam felt the tension in the air, the weight of what was about to happen. A single mistake could send them spiraling. But for the first time in a while, he felt the nerves settle. This was the plan. This was the strategy. This was what they needed.
"We've been playing well together" Clara said, breaking the silence. "Our comms are good. Our rotations are tight. We just need to stay focused and execute."
Liam took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. "Tomorrow, during the scrim, we practice everything. Get the timing right. Clean up the execution. This is our shot."
Coach Nolan stood up, pacing the small space behind the table. "And after the scrim? We'll review the footage, tweak the weak spots. We'll refine it. Then, we go into the quarterfinals with full confidence."
Liam nodded, his grip tightening around his coffee cup. It was time to take the next step. He could feel the team's resolve building, each word strengthening their bond.
"Let's get to work then" Daniel said, his usual cocky grin making an appearance. "Tomorrow's just a scrim, but we make it count. Show Tusk what they're up against."
"Exactly" Coach Nolan said. "One day left. But we've got this."
The next day, the scrim with Evil5 began.
Liam sat at his desk, headphones on, staring at the screen as the countdown ticked down. His fingers hovered over his keyboard, ready to execute the plan they'd laid out. One day. That was all they had.
As the match started, everything felt... off.
The first round, Evil5 stormed in. They were aggressive. Their rotations were fast, and their aim was sharp. Liam felt the pressure immediately. He missed a few shots that he knew he should've hit, and his team struggled to hold their ground.
It was chaos.
Daniel was yelling into the mic. "We're giving them too much space! Push! Don't let them breathe!"
Matt was already calling out positioning, but it wasn't enough. Clara's timing on the rotations was a hair off, and Ava was caught in an awkward position, out of sync with the rest of the team.
Liam could feel it too. They were choking. The tension from the night before, the pressure of facing Tusk... it was all coming to a head.
They lost the first round. The second round, they were better. More focused. They adjusted their strategy slightly, tightening up their defense and pushing more aggressively.
And yet, they still lost.
It wasn't until the third round that something clicked. Liam's hands stopped shaking. His mind cleared. He focused. His aim was true, and the team's rotations started to fall into place.
The rounds began to feel less like a struggle and more like a flow. They were executing the plan. The confidence was slowly returning, each round building on the last.
By the end of the scrim, the team had won two matches and one loss as it was a Bo3. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't clean. But it was enough.
Coach Nolan gathered them after the game, nodding in approval. "You got the rhythm back. Now, we just need to fine-tune it. We've got one more day. Rest up. Tomorrow, we hit Tusk."
Liam leaned back in his chair, exhaustion setting in. But there was something else there too. A sense of readiness. They weren't perfect. But they were prepared. And that was all they needed.
The next day, the team met early, gathering in their usual spot to run through final strategies and talk about their plan for Tusk.
The pressure was heavier now, but they had come a long way.
"Alright" Coach Nolan began, his voice calm but firm. "This is it. No more second chances. Execute the plan, and we win. Let's get in there."
Liam's heart pounded in his chest as they entered the match lobby. His fingers twitched on the keyboard, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.
They were ready.
And just as the match was about to begin, Liam's phone buzzed.
He didn't look at it. Not yet.
The final match started, and the first round was tense. They pushed Tusk hard, taking control early. They shut down their mid-lane, just as they had planned.
Then, the second round. Tusk fought back, but Liam could feel the flow. They had the upper hand.
But as they entered the third round, something strange happened.
Liam's phone buzzed again.
And this time, he glanced at the screen.
It was a message from Coach Nolan. A short, simple text: "Evil5's coach just called. Tusk knows. Be careful."
Liam's blood ran cold.