Chapter Two: The Practice Room in the Low Tide

Harbor Wolves’ training room was smaller than North Ridge Titans’ old facility. It looked like a warehouse office that had been emptied in a hurry and repurposed for five people and a whiteboard. Draft structures, lane assignments, Power Rune timings, Roshan windows, and one line that had been crossed out so many times the marker had carved a groove into the board: do not rush, do not gamble, do not solo feed. When Caleb arrived, four people were already there. Nick Sanchez, the carry player, was last-hitting with a mechanical calm that made every mouse click sound expensive. Isaiah King, the offlaner, had headphones on and an energy drink sweating on the desk.