Michael Jordan: Rebound from Oblivion

The city forgot fast.

The game faded like a rumor. Just a playground myth about some half-breed girl cooking a pureblood on asphalt.

But the court didn't forget.

Neither did the system.

> [Court Link – Active]

[Sync Rate: 71%]

[Warning: Divine Attention Stabilized]

[Next Activation Trigger – 3 Days Remaining]

Three days. That was all the system gave her. And it didn't say what for.

Mike sat in the back row of a dusty community gym, hoodie pulled low, watching a junior training camp. She didn't belong here. Technically, she didn't belong anywhere. Bloodline families wouldn't recognize her. Normal teams wouldn't touch her. And she didn't have a single registration point in the national basketball system.

But she had one advantage.

The court was evolving with her.

Each movement felt more responsive. Each heartbeat closer to the rhythm.

Behind her, two recruiters whispered.

"She doesn't have school tags."

"Still… she reads the court better than half the Flame Gen kids."

"She's not in the registry. I already checked."

Mike stood before they could finish.

She didn't need rumors spreading.

---

Outside, a message hit her system hard.

> [New Mission Assigned: One-on-One Challenge – Opponent: Zeke Flarin]

[Class: D-tier Bloodline, School-Affiliated]

[Court Link Transfer: Remote Training Camp Court #009-B]

[Timer: 00:03:57]

"…You've gotta be kidding."

The world spun. The cracked street under her vanished. She was standing on polished wood.

> [Court Pressure: Low Tier – Stable]

She wasn't alone.

A boy with silver-streaked hair turned from the far end of the court, his eyes glowing faintly red.

"You're the one that beat Ramo?"

Mike cracked her knuckles.

"You his cousin or just another sore loser?"

He didn't laugh.

The ball floated from the rack between them and dropped with a click.

Zeke stepped forward. No flame this time.

Just density. Everything about his posture was heavier—more locked-in.

"Your score won't rise much from me. But… I'll enjoy breaking your sync."

> [System Analysis: Internal Energy Detected – Intermediate Level]

[Court Technique: Echo Cut – Defensive Style]

[Opponent Stance: High Guard – Pressure Field Engaged]

Mike took a breath.

Not to center herself.

Just to enjoy the silence before everything changed.

---

The match ignited with a blur of motion. No crowd. No coach. No ref.

Just the court… watching.

Zeke lunged. His footwork was sharp—practiced. His Echo Cut technique absorbed impact, feeding energy back into counter-moves. His court aura shimmered like mirrored water.

Mike was faster.

She didn't block him.

She let the move play.

> [Pulse Read Activated – Delay: 0.12 sec]

She slid through the gap before it even opened. Ghosted behind him, tapped the ball—twisted in midair.

A fake pass.

Zeke turned. She wasn't where he thought.

She was already scoring.

The rim snapped like a struck drum.

1–0.

---

He didn't fall back. Didn't scowl. Just… smiled.

"Now I see what they meant," Zeke muttered.

He reached into his chest. Not physically. Something deeper.

> [Domain Threshold Detected: Aura Distortion Incoming]

[TCD: Unstable – Partial Activation Blocked]

[Opponent Rule: Rebound Immunity – Ball will not bounce off the rim if rejected]

Mike blinked.

"…Wait, what?"

The next second, Zeke shot from half-court—fast, clean, perfect spiral. She leapt to block.

Missed.

The ball struck the rim—and stuck.

No bounce. No drop.

Zeke sprinted past her, snatched the ball mid-cling, and slammed it with one arm.

1–1.

> [Court Rule Absorption: Complete. TCD Signature Linked.]

[Warning: Opponent can enforce rule passives on low-level courts.]

Mike backed up. "Okay… that's a thing now?"

The system pulsed.

> [Recommendation: TCD Creation Unavailable. Begin Sync Acceleration.]

Mike's eyes narrowed. Her heart thudded once.

This was no street match.

This was her first real trap.

---

Back in the divine council, two gods watched the projection float in the air.

"She's accelerating again," said the one with molten veins crawling across his arms.

"Too early," said the one cloaked in feathers. "The system is testing her. It's preparing… something."

"She's going to break rank."

"Let her."

Their eyes locked on the image of a pale girl in a torn hoodie, spinning in midair above the court, light swirling at her feet.

"She will burn out eventually."

"Or break everything."