Michael Jordan: Rebound from Oblivion

The echo of the rim still rang in Mike's ears as she walked off the court, sneakers whispering against the cement. The boy she'd just destroyed—a god in disguise—was still lying half-conscious. The whispers had started already. She didn't care. Her heart was pounding not from effort, but revelation.

> "System."

> "Yes, host."

> "That guy… what the hell was he?"

> "A god, suppressed to your level by my override function. You fought an immortal, Mike. And you won."

Her face didn't change. But her body slowed.

> "That was a death match. Either you kill the assigned target or you die. I chose to assist you. Do you want to live? Then defeat all targets sent your way."

Mike's eyes narrowed. "You mean to tell me I'm out here playin' one-on-one with straight-up gods?"

> "Affirmative. This is the Game of Elimination."

She didn't speak for a while. The streets around her continued like nothing happened. People cheered, cursed, tossed snacks. But in her head, silence.

> "...Damn."

Then she smiled.

> "Michael Jordan's back on air."

---

Far away, beyond mortal reach, the god realm stirred. The Council of Nine had gathered, golden thrones floating over a court the size of continents. They watched the replay of Mike's game. But the one who truly caught their attention wasn't Mike.

It was the pressure. The suppression.

"This can't be."

"A sealed being? Active?"

"The pressure... it's the same as His. But twisted."

The God King stood silent, his fingers tapping on invisible screens. No emotion on his flawless face. But in the corner of his eye, a single word blinked red:

> Override Detected.

---

Meanwhile, Mike sat on the court railings. Her legs dangled, her fingers dribbled a half-flat ball. She could feel it now. The whispers of something beyond her control—deep in her head, in the rhythm of her bounce.

> "Sync Progress: 74%. Circuit Link Strength: Unstable."

She rubbed her temples.

"System, why me?"

> "Because you're built for it. Your instincts. Your obsession. Your mind and body align perfectly with Court Pressure. Your legacy echoes through dimensions. Even death couldn't erase it."

Mike chuckled. "Flattery? From you?"

> "Survival protocol. You respond to ego stimulation."

She laughed harder.

"Damn right I do."

---

Training Ground Zeta – Hidden Circuit Hub

System-created. Undetectable. Nestled in the fold between dimensions. This was where Mike landed the next day.

The court here pulsed. The lines shifted. Every bounce of the ball created a ripple of feedback.

> "Welcome to the Grid. This is where Court Technique training begins. Choose your Circuit."

The interface glowed before her:

Ghost Step (Agility / Illusion / Phantom Movement)

Pulse Zone (Court Awareness / Internal Energy Enhancement)

Breaker Drive (Force Acceleration / Impact Techniques)

Anchor Vision (Strategic Lockdown / Defensive Control)

Mike blinked.

"All this for one person?"

> "For now. You'll gather others. But you are the core. You decide what style your future team will bend around. Choose wisely."

She scrolled, reading descriptions. Her fingers hovered, her eyes sharp.

> "Ghost Step."

> "Confirmed. Downloading Level 1 Circuit. Initializing Neural-Limb Sync Protocol."

Her legs trembled. Pressure built in her spine. Then her feet touched the ground again—lighter.

> "System... did I just get faster?"

> "You entered Layer One of Ghost Circuit. Welcome to true speed."

---

Back in the real world…

Kids were talking. Coaches whispered. Cameras had caught her last dunk. Some said it was fake. Others called it divine.

One man, a former coach of a now-disbanded elite academy, rewound the footage for the hundredth time.

"She's already syncing," he muttered. "And she hasn't even awakened her Internal Energy yet."

He rose. For the first time in ten years, he picked up his whistle.

"Looks like the court's callin' me back."

---

Later That Night

Mike stood on a rooftop. The stars above felt... close. Her system pinged again.

> "Assigned target incoming."

> "Wait. Right now?"

> "Confirmed. Your presence has triggered a god's detection. You will face 'Thalor, Guardian of Static Motion.'"

> "Can I at least get dinner first?"

> "No."

Lightning split the sky. A figure stepped through the air. Cloaked in threads of motionless thunder. A god. Again.

Mike spat her gum.

"Alright then. Let's ball."