Score: GODS — 63 | RAPTORS — 29

The whistle never came. The court shuddered as if something enormous had inhaled. Every banner above the rafters trembled, and the noise of the crowd fell into a single, trembling hum.

Jalen blinked through the glare. The edges of his vision rippled, but he refused to lower his eyes.

"You're not the only one who can make the world listen," he muttered.

He crouched, the ball touching hardwood once, twice each bounce carrying a faint echo that shouldn't exist. Then he burst forward. Lines of white heat traced the path of his drive; even the cameramen couldn't follow.

Commentators shouted over one another.

"He's moving again, how is he still…"

"That's Carter! That's pure will!"

Zeus took a step. Just one. The sound was soft, but the court groaned as if a plate of steel had bent. His aura flared gold, the air around him swirling into fine dust.

Jalen crossed left, disappeared behind a shimmer of motion, reappeared at the arc. The moment froze. The ball rose from his fingers, a comet cutting through a world that was trying to erase it.

The shot met the rim hesitated then fell.

GODS — 63 | RAPTORS — 32

For a second, no one moved. Then the crowd erupted. Hands flew into the air, strangers shouting each other's names. Every heartbeat in the building seemed to join the same rhythm.

…

Bleachers

Lucas exhaled, almost laughing.

"He bent it back. Just a little, but he did."

Ethan nodded, eyes locked on the floor.

"That's how it starts. A single frame where belief wins."

Louie was already on his feet, shouting until his throat cracked.

"Heh… THAT'S OUR Ethan … Our CAPTAIN!"

On the Floor

Zeus watched the ball roll away, expression unreadable. His teammates waited for command, but he only raised his head to Jalen.

"Interesting," he said quietly. "So even mortals can tilt the axis."

Jalen met his gaze, sweat streaking down his face.

"Call me mortal again," he rasped, "and I'll show you what dying to win looks like."

Zeus almost smiled almost.

"Then show me."

He advanced, every step heavy but measured. Jalen dropped into stance, ready for the next exchange, the next impossible second.

The scoreboard ticked forward; the crowd roared again. Somewhere high in the stands, Ethan's system display flickered, recording data in gold script. The line between the ordinary and the divine had blurred, and everyone in the arena could feel it.

The quarter clock drained toward zero, light and noise folding together into one steady, endless sound part heartbeat, part thunder while on the court, two figures stood alone in that brightness: one wrapped in gold, one burning red, both refusing to yield.

Time: 1:00 Remaining | Score: GODS — 63 | RAPTORS — 32

The court gleamed beneath the lights — polished hardwood reflecting the clash of exhaustion and defiance. The Raptors had one minute left in the quarter, and somehow… Jalen was still moving.

He dribbled at half-court, breath shallow but eyes alive.

The ball slapped the floor in rhythm: thump… thump… thump…

Each bounce carried weight not just leather, but resistance, as though the air itself tried to hold him back.

Zeus waited beyond the arc, calm, centered. His aura pulsed faintly blue lightning crawling across the floor like veins. The space between them wasn't distance; it was dominance.

"One minute," Jalen muttered. "One more message."

He shifted his grip.

Step 1: Low dribble, double tap between the legs.

Step 2: Cross — lightning-fast — baiting Zeus's left foot.

Step 3: Burst right, shoulder in, eyes on the rim.

But the world tilted.

Zeus didn't chase. He anticipated.

Before Jalen could complete his second step, Zeus's shadow was already where he would land. A whisper of thunder cracked beneath his soles a predictive step.

Jalen spun tight, quick slipping under Zeus's arm. His sneakers screeched against the floor, pivoting like a blade. He jumped off one foot, body tilting back, shooting over his shoulder.

"FLASH FADE!"

The ball kissed the air smooth, spiraling then hit the rim, rolling once… twice…

SWISH.

GODS — 63 | RAPTORS — 34

The crowd erupted.

Commentators screamed over one another:

"HE GOT IT OVER ZEUS!"

"JALEN CARTER IS DEFYING THE LAWS OF SPACE AND SANITY!"

"That's the first clean look in almost four minutes!"

Even Ares smirked.

"He's still standing, huh?"

Poseidon exhaled impressed.

"For someone drowning, he's still swimming."

Zeus, though… only blinked once. Then the air changed again.

The static thickened.

45 seconds.

The ball crossed into the Gods' hands; Poseidon inbounded to Hades.

Smooth. Effortless.

Hades dribbled once, twice then vanished into a blur of shadow step. Malik lunged to cut him off, but his hand hit air.

Hades reappeared mid-lane, body twisting as he released a Phantom Shot, a flick that looked like a pass until it curved midair.

Chronos caught it, already rising.

"Time Lock."

He dunked no wind-up, no delay, a perfect execution of prediction.

GODS — 65 | RAPTORS — 34

The rim rattled. The crowd gasped.

Kobe clenched his jaw, hands shaking.

"He's not jumping high… he's jumping when."

30 seconds.

Zion grabbed the inbound, yelling:

"Set! Set! Stack double screen! Jalen top!"

Tyrese and Kobe moved in sync one high, one low.

Jalen cut through, curling around the screen, catching the ball at the elbow.

Poseidon lunged waterlike speed but Jalen pump-faked.

Split second.

Jalen pivoted midair, passing behind his back to Malik cutting baseline.

Malik catches up, reverse layup

SWAT!

Ares's hand exploded upward like a cannon.

The block wasn't just power, it was timing born of fury.

The ball ricocheted high, nearly hitting the scoreboard.

15 seconds.

Hades scooped it midair, tossed a long pass downcourt, a lightning beam to Zeus.

The arena held its breath.

Zeus didn't rush. He walked into the paint.

Kobe braced both feet down.

BOOM.

One step Zeus's aura flashed gold. The floor cracked.

He didn't jump.

He just rose.

The dunk was silent like gravity itself yielded.

GODS — 67 | RAPTORS — 34

5 seconds left.

Jalen caught the inbound, sprinting the length of the court — the world blurring, the crowd's voices fading.

He rose at the buzzer, releasing a desperate arc from half-court.

BZZZT!

The ball sailed a burning streak and fell just short, grazing the rim.

To be continue

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