SEATTLE — They had survived the rain, pouring in sheets in the second quarter on slick turf. They had survived the bitter winds, threatening to turn fingers the shade of purple that adorned Husky Stadium. They had survived the tremors from Washington faithful, conjuring a wall of noise that shook the very concrete infrastructure of their home off Union Bay.

USC had survived, again, down just a score and fighting another fourth-quarter day in waning minutes. They controlled their own destiny, again, against a Washington program where they’d flipped their own script and been the team to recapture second-half momentum. And quarterback Miller Moss, shrugging off the three interceptions and a day struggling to move the ball through the air, pushed USC downfield in a two-minute drill.

But in the red zone, second down passed. Third down passed. Time slipped away. And on a fourth-and-4 Moss took a snap from the shotgun for a play that never had a chance.

Seconds later, he laid on the turf, the weight of a blitzing heap of Huskies crushing him and USC as a feeble pass to nowhere hit the turf to seal a 26-21 loss. As the offense came on, an oncoming Huskies player accidentally kicked Moss. A USC receiver barked at a handful of Washington players. Some light shoving ensued.

Perhaps USC won that battle. After a gruesome first half resulted in a 20-7 deficit at the break, they won plenty of second-half battles, certainly. Coordinator D’Anton Lynn’s defense was nails, and coach Lincoln Riley suddenly flipped his Air Raid into smashmouth football, and Woody Marks freewheeled his way to 123 yards on 22 carries.

But they lost the war. And Moss, this program’s man in the arena and a man who called for critics to “keep that same energy” a couple weeks earlier, was nowhere to be found at his program’s postgame presser.

“Obviously, didn’t make the plays in the end to do it,” Riley said postgame, “and came up one play short.”

The pattern repeats. The clock resets. USC didn’t close. One play short. A few plays away. There has been no different story in this USC season, a maddening similarity tying nearly every single loss together, a maddening similarity tying Riley’s postgame comments together as his ship continues to sink.

“I watch a team, like – it’s not like we’re getting our ass kicked, you know?” Riley said, postgame. “So, it’s not like I go back to the drawing board and it’s just, like, ‘Gah, we’re just doing this terrible, and people are just wearing us out on this or that.’ I mean, like, it’s not, it’s not that.”

What it is, at the moment, is a losing season. USC is 4-5, and 2-4 in the Big Ten. Yes, they were one play short on Saturday -- but one play short several times.

There was a back-breaking Moss interception in the third quarter, stalling all momentum he’d built in piloting USC to a third-quarter lead and two touchdown drives, firing a ball over the middle into the hands of Washington’s Carson Bruener and clapping his hands in disgust on the sidelines.

There was a fourth-and-1 play from the goal line down a score with five minutes remaining, Riley entrusting his offense in the hands of Marks and Quinten Joyner and suddenly running the ball 10 times in 11 plays, only for Marks to be stuffed for a three-yard loss and emerge with no points.

There was Moss’s final spinning heave to nowhere as he was dragged down by an avalanche of Huskies, no Hollywood magic he could summon on this frigid night in Seattle.

And there was a USC team that could not escape the narrative, again, of a team that could not separate, an identity that only heightens scrutiny on Riley as his third season wearing a Trojans visor crumples.

“I don’t handle losing very well,” he said postgame. “Hasn’t happened much in my career. Our team – that part of it is unacceptable. Now, through that, when you really look at it – is there progress, is there push, have we had a chance to win every game? The answer to all those is undoubtedly yes.”

“But at the end of the day, whether you separate, or whether it comes down to the end, we expect to win,” he continued. “And we haven’t done that enough.”