Location: Secret Meeting Room – Underground Vault, Zurich A long obsidian table sat under a chandelier of crystal daggers. Around it seven men. Silent. Powerful. Hidden in the shadows of the sports world. At the head sat Viktor Lorne, fingers steepled, venom in his voice.“Gentlemen… Andre Corbin has declared war on the system. Our system.” Next to him, Reznov nodded, his eyes cold.A glass of whiskey trembled in Viktor’s grip. “He’s not just playing basketball,” Viktor snarled. “He’s building a narrative. If it wins, we lose.” Someone across the table asked: “What do you suggest?” Viktor’s lips curled. “We don’t break him. We erase him.”Meanwhile – Titania Safe House, London Clive had bugged the Zurich room hours ago. Now, the audio streamed live through encrypted speakers.Andre listened in silence. Reznov’s voice crackled through. “We lure him into another scandal. A player attack. Paid. Fake. Viral. One hit, and he’s out again.”Another voice: “And his mother?” Viktor: “Make her

Titania HQ – 7:12 AM Clive burst into the war room holding a phone. “It’s out,” he said. “Malden’s confession. Every major sports outlet’s running it.”Andre was already at the board, marking the last thread connecting Teanna, Viktor, and Coach Malden. “They underestimated how loud the truth can be.”Clive nodded. “You’re trending worldwide again. This time, not just as a player. As a symbol.” Andre didn’t smile. “They’re going to panic.”Social Media Frenzy#CorbinExposedTheGame#BurnTheSystem#JusticeForAndreClips of the one-on-one with Malden go viral. Every network replays Malden’s admission. Andre was being called the "Whistleblower Athlete." Even politicians and journalists joined in, demanding league reform.But one post hit differently. @TeannaReal “We need to talk, Andre. You deserve the truth. Meet me tonight. No cameras. Just us.”Clive’s Office “She’s baiting you,” Clive said. “Don’t go.” Andre’s eyes were locked on the screen. “Let her talk,” he muttered. “Sometimes a sn

Titania Global Headquarters – Executive Boardroom Andre stood before a wall of glass, overlooking a skyline that once felt impossible to reach. Clive entered, holding a leather-bound portfolio. “It’s done,” he said. Andre didn’t turn. “Viktor?” “Interpol issued the Red Notice. He’s on every border list in Europe.” Andre finally faced him. “And the leagues?” Clive flipped open the folder. Viktor Lorne banned for life. Reznov suspended pending investigation. 14 club executives resigned. Over 30 rigged match results revoked. Andre Corbin cleared on all counts and reinstated with back pay, interest, and full image rights. Andre smiled faintly. “Good.”Midtown London – Lavish Sports Network Studio That same night, a rival agent, Max Geller, hosted a live segment on Corbin: “Andre Corbin’s story is no longer just an underdog tale. It’s a tectonic shift. Players are quitting agencies, clubs are demanding audits, and fans are pushing for transparency.” “He didn’t just fight for himself. He k

Location: Underground Titania Vault, 11:03 PMAndre sat alone in a freezing steel chamber beneath Titania HQ. The flash drive labeled “GENESIS” was now destroyed but its data lived on.Clive entered slowly, carrying an old briefcase. “You told me once,” Clive said, “that they could erase your stats, break your bones, but they’d never take your drive. You sure you’re ready for what’s in here?” Andre nodded once.Clive opened the briefcase. Inside: a military-grade tablet with a file named: EDEN_V1: SUBJECT PROTOCOLS – CLASSIFIED.Sasha joined them remotely on a secure screen. “We ran every trace. EDEN wasn’t just created by Viktor. It was funded by defense contractors. GENESIS was predictive. EDEN is controlling.”Andre scrolled. Lines of classified data were revealed: Neural implants, Muscle override systems, A.I. synced “performance personalities” Emotion suppression thresholds, and the list of test subjects.He leaned back, stunned. “They didn’t just want to influence me, they tried

The sun hung heavy above the Dust Court in Lagos. The rim creaked with every dunk, the backboard was scratched with years of battle scars, and the lines were barely visible but it was alive. And standing in the middle of it all was Andre Corbin.No guards. No entourage. No press. Just a worn-out whistle, a ball under his arm, and thirty teenagers staring at him like he was a myth.“I’m not here to show off,” Andre said. “I’m here because this court made me.”The crowd was silent. He pointed to a kid fumbling a dribble.“You miss, you fall, you cry good. That’s what makes you real. You don’t need perfection. You need flaws that bleed.” “Because that means you’re human.”Three hours later, Andre’s pickup game livestream had over 70 million views. Clips of him helping a limping kid tie his laces. Teaching a girl how to drive left. Losing and laughing about it.The world had never seen him like this. No polished arenas. No sponsors. Just Andre. And that made him unstoppable.Far beneath t