As the "Stream Ended" graphic flashed across the monitors, the silence of the empty broadcast booth felt heavy. Leo took off his headset, his ears ringing. "Not bad for a Broadcast 3 game," he grinned.

The ball rattled the rim, looped twice, and dropped through the net. The Eastern New Mexico bench cleared in a frenzy of grey and silver. In the booth, Leo punched the air, realized he was still on camera, and quickly sat back down to cue the highlights.

High in the rafters, tucked into a cramped technical booth labeled sat Leo. While the primary and secondary crews had the fancy crane cameras and sideline reporters, Broadcast 3 was the "scrappy" feed—the one meant for the die-hard fans and the international streamers.

The desert heat usually settled into a quiet, blue hum by twilight in Phoenix, but tonight the air around the arena felt electric. Inside, the lights were blindingly bright, reflecting off the polished hardwood where the Antelopes were warming up.

The arena went dead silent for a heartbeat as the ball arched through the air.

In the final ten seconds, the score was locked. The ball was in the hands of that small-town guard from ENMU. He drove the lane, the GCU defense closing in like a purple tide. He pivoted, faded back, and let the ball fly just as the buzzer screamed.