In the middle of the shimmering court, Zion "Infinity Handles" McCloud stood, spinning a glowing basketball on his finger. His black-and-gold jersey seemed to ripple with starlight, reflecting the infinite possibilities he embodied. Across from him, his opponents sneered, their very presence warping reality around them.
The announcer's voice echoed across dimensions.
"WELCOME, LADIES, GENTLEMEN, AND NON-CORPOREAL ENTITIES! THE 83RD UBA TOURNAMENT IS HERE! TONIGHT'S GAME: THE NEWLY-ARRIVED EARTH REPRESENTATIVE, ZION MCCLOUD, FACES OFF AGAINST THE COSMIC TITANS, TEAM CHRONOCLASM!"
Zion wiped his hands on his jersey, squinting up at the scoreboard, which floated above the court and seemed to shift between languages and mathematical equations. He had no idea how he got here. One moment, he'd been crossing up a defender at his local rec center. The next, he'd unleashed a dribble so nasty it ripped a hole in the space-time continuum and landed him in a tournament where losing wasn't just embarrassing—it was existentially catastrophic.
"You're going down, Earthling," growled his matchup, a hulking figure named Gravitas. His voice pulled Zion's attention downward as if gravity itself had become a weapon. "You'll wish you never touched a basketball."
Zion smirked. "Big talk for someone about to get their ankles deleted."
The whistle blew, and the ball floated to center court, glowing brighter than the core of a dying star. Zion locked eyes with Gravitas, his fingers twitching. The tip-off was no ordinary jump. Gravitas leaped with the force of collapsing black holes, but Zion's reaction was quicker. He didn't jump—he flickered out of existence and reappeared mid-air, snatching the ball before reality had time to register his movement.
"FIRST POSSESSION GOES TO TEAM EARTH!" the announcer boomed.
Zion landed lightly on the court, his sneakers leaving faint ripples on the polished floor. Gravitas lunged at him, his gravitational field distorting the space around them. But Zion's hands were already a blur, dribbling the ball in patterns that bent light and sound.
"You think you can stop me?" Zion taunted, crossing over once. Twice. Each move sent shockwaves through the court, and Gravitas stumbled, his knees trembling as if they'd been hit by a cosmic tremor.
The crowd erupted.
"CROSSOVER ALERT! HE'S BROUGHT OUT THE DIMENSION SHUFFLE!"
Zion made his move. He shifted left, then right, then—without warning—vanished entirely. Gravitas's legs twisted in on themselves as he collapsed, his gravitational field imploding. The sound of his ankles snapping reverberated across the multiverse, shattering infinite realities in its wake.
"OH! AND GRAVITAS'S ANKLES HAVE BEEN OBLITERATED! THAT'S AN INSTANT PENALTY!"
Zion didn't stop. He soared down the court, the ball trailing a comet's tail behind him. The other defenders rushed to block him, each wielding powers that could rewrite existence itself. One hurled a spear of pure antimatter; another created a wall of unbreakable timelines. Zion, unfazed, unleashed a behind-the-back dribble so clean it erased their efforts from causality.
At the three-point line, he rose for a shot. Time seemed to slow as the ball left his fingertips, its trajectory bending reality. The shot was so precise that it not only defied the laws of physics but rewrote them entirely. The ball tore through the hoop, leaving a trail of golden light.
"AND IT'S GOOD! TEAM EARTH SCORES FIRST!"
The crowd's roar shook the heavens. Zion turned to Gravitas, who was still struggling to piece his ankles back together. He gave a casual shrug.
"Welcome to the court," Zion said. "Better keep up.