Time Remaining: 00:48
Two more possessions—maybe.
No room for hesitation.
Dirga inhaled through his nose.
GodFrame—Tempo Sight: Activated.
The world didn't slow down.
Dirga accelerated.
His consciousness detached, lifting—like a drone rising above the court.
He no longer saw the game from behind his eyes.
He hovered above it all—untouched, unseen, omniscient.
The court transformed.
Lines sharpened. Colors faded.
Everything—everyone—reduced to motion and intent.
layers became silhouettes of energy. Blue trails for Horizon—calm, synchronized, flowing like a current and Red trails for Toyonaka—erratic, reactive, faster but easier to read.
Each player dragged behind them a comet trail of movement.
Arcs of where they were—echoes of where they'd be.
No faces.
Only decisions.
Every breath, every shift in weight, every twitch of muscle—it was all data.
Predictable. Patterned. Beatable.
From above, Dirga spotted the moment.
Yuto's weight shifted—barely.
