The crowd was still recovering from the dimensional chaos of Zion's first bucket when Team Chronoclasm called a timeout. On their sideline, Gravitas sat with his ankles propped up on a pulsating med-tech orb, glaring at Zion as though sheer anger could reverse the humiliation he'd just suffered.
"We can't let that Earthling clown us like this," Gravitas growled. "He's fast, but he's reckless. Let's teach him what happens when you mess with Chronoclasm."
From behind Gravitas, a figure stepped forward—Kronos Dunklord, their captain. His eyes glowed with a golden light as he raised a hand, freezing the flow of time around them. Only his teammates could move within the suspended moment.
"Enough," Kronos said, his voice carrying the weight of eons. "This Earthling isn't just fast. He's dangerous. But no one—and I mean no one—can outplay the Dunklord of Time."
Gravitas nodded, but there was unease in his expression. Kronos didn't just talk big. His dunks were legendary, powerful enough to collapse timelines and rewrite causality. If anyone could counter Zion, it was him.
Back on the Court
Zion jogged toward his bench, grinning at the cheers of the crowd. His teammate, Destiny Hooper, tossed him a towel.
"Nice shot, Infinity Handles," Destiny said, her voice tinged with amusement. "But don't get too cocky. Kronos is subbing in."
Zion's grin faltered. He'd heard the stories. Kronos Dunklord's name was whispered in fear even in dimensions that didn't play basketball. This guy had dunked so hard once that an entire galaxy had been permanently stuck in slow motion.
"Relax," Zion said, more to himself than to Destiny. "He puts on his sneakers one foot at a time, just like the rest of us. Right?"
Destiny raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, except his sneakers are made from the essence of collapsing stars."
The whistle blew, signaling the end of the timeout. Kronos stepped onto the court, his golden jersey shimmering as if woven from threads of pure time. The moment his sneaker hit the hardwood, the air seemed to thrum with temporal energy.
"Infinity Handles," Kronos said, his voice resonating across dimensions. "Your tricks are amusing, but playtime is over."
"Cool story," Zion shot back. "Let's see if you can back it up."
The Matchup
The ball was inbounded, and Kronos immediately took control. His movements were impossibly fluid, each step precise and deliberate. Zion shadowed him, staying low and keeping his hands active. But guarding Kronos wasn't like guarding anyone else. Every step the Dunklord took seemed to echo, like ripples in a pond spreading through time itself.
Kronos made his move. He spun past Zion, and for a brief moment, time froze. Zion saw himself standing still, helpless as Kronos rose for a dunk. The crowd gasped as the ball left Kronos's hand, hurtling toward the hoop with the force of an exploding star.
"NOPE," Zion growled.
Summoning every ounce of his power, Zion shattered the temporal freeze, reappearing mid-air to meet Kronos at the rim. Their clash sent shockwaves through the arena, distorting the court and briefly flipping the entire multiverse inside out. Spectators gasped as alternate versions of themselves flickered in and out of existence.
The ball ricocheted off the rim, and Zion landed gracefully. Kronos, unfazed, smirked.
"Impressive," Kronos said. "But you can't keep up forever."
Zion didn't respond. Instead, he clapped his hands, signaling for the ball. Destiny passed it to him, and Zion sprinted down the court. Kronos was already in front of him, arms outstretched. Zion hesitated for a split second, then grinned.
"Time to break more than ankles," he said.
With a series of lightning-fast crossovers, Zion began building momentum. The court shimmered as he moved, his dribbles creating a kaleidoscope of possibilities. Kronos tried to keep up, but for the first time in eons, he faltered. Zion's final crossover sent Kronos stumbling backward, his sneakers leaving skid marks on the fabric of time itself.
Zion took off from the free-throw line, soaring high above the rim. The crowd held its collective breath as he cocked the ball back, ready to unleash a dunk so devastating it would ripple through the multiverse.
"HERE COMES THE INFINITY SLAM!" the announcer bellowed.
The moment Zion's dunk connected, the arena erupted in a blinding flash of light. The force of the slam created a black hole at the center of the court, sucking in stray particles of reality and spitting them back out as confetti.
When the dust settled, Zion stood at center court, the rim still vibrating from the impact. Kronos stared at him, a look of pure disbelief on his face.
"Guess time's up," Zion said, tossing the ball to the ref.
The crowd exploded into cheers. Zion jogged back to his bench, where Destiny was waiting with a smirk.
"Okay," she said. "That was ridiculous."
Zion shrugged. "What can I say? I'm just built different."