THE GOD OF NBA

Days blurred into nights as Brooks pushed himself harder than ever. Every practice with the team felt like a proving ground, but the Trials of Olympus weighed heavier with each passing day.

The memory of Nyx's cold stare lingered. "The Trials only grow harder from here." Those words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder that the Court System was no simple game.

Brooks wasn't sure when the next Trial would come—but he knew it was coming. He couldn't afford to be unprepared.

Late one night, while the rest of the world slept, Brooks returned to the gym. The court was silent except for the rhythmic sound of his dribble. He worked on his Phantom Crossover, pushing the new skill to its limits.

Each movement grew sharper, faster. He could feel the power coursing through his legs, the precision becoming second nature. But it still wasn't enough.

His father's words haunted him. Wanting ain't the same as being. Brooks wanted to be the best—but if he couldn't survive the next Trial, wanting wouldn't matter.

A metallic hum cut through the stillness. Brooks froze, the ball bouncing to a stop at his feet. The air grew heavy. A silver light split the court.

"Player Brooks—do you accept the Third Trial of Olympus?" His heart pounded. It was sooner than he expected. But there was no hesitation." I accept."

The gym vanished.

When his vision cleared, Brooks stood on a floating court suspended over an endless void. The surface gleamed as polished gold and jagged cliffs floated in the distance, crackling with arcs of lightning.

A figure awaited him at center court.

"I am Zephyrus, Guardian of the Third Trial," the figure declared, his voice like a rushing wind. His silver hair whipped around his face, and his emerald eyes gleamed with challenge.

Zephyrus twirled a basketball in his hand as if it weighed nothing. "This is the Trial of the Gale. Speed alone will not save you."

The Court System flared to life before Brooks' eyes.

"Trial of the Gale: Outmaneuver the Wind Spirits and Score 15 Gale Shots. Reward: Skill Upgrade – Stormstep (Level 1)."

Brooks inhaled sharply. Stormstep. He could feel the challenge thrumming through the air. No easy shots. No room for error.

"Let's do this." Zephyrus smiled. "Begin."

A sudden gust nearly knocked Brooks off his feet. Wind Spirits materialized around the court—translucent figures with razor-sharp edges. They moved fast, circling him like a predators.

Brooks pushed forward, activating Lightning Step to break through the wind barrier. He danced between the spirits, each movement a delicate balance of speed and control.

At the three-point line, he rose for his first shot.

The wind howled around him, threatening to twist the ball off course.

But his focus held.

"Gale Shot. +30 XP."

One down. Fourteen to go.

The Wind Spirits grew faster, their movements more erratic. Twice they brushed his arm, sending sharp stings through his body. Each contact came with a penalty, draining his stamina.

"Come on, Brooks," he muttered. "Stay sharp."

By the eighth shot, his legs felt like lead. Every step grew harder, but he refused to stop.

He thought of his father—the nights spent watching game tape together, the quiet determination in the face of impossible odds. Brooks wouldn't fail him.

A Wind Spirit lunged, but Brooks twisted mid-air, releasing the ball with perfect precision.

"Gale Shot. +30 XP."

Twelve.

The Court System pulsed with an alert.

"Skill Awakening: Phantom Crossover (Level 3) + Lightning Step (Level 2) = Stormstep (Level 1) Activated."

A surge of raw energy flooded his muscles. Brooks felt lighter, faster—unstoppable.

With Stormstep active, he wove through the wind like a shadow. Each movement blurred with supernatural speed. The Wind Spirits couldn't keep up.

Thirteen.

Fourteen.

One more.

Zephyrus raised a hand, and a cyclone erupted across the court. The final Wind Spirit was massive—an avatar of the storm itself.

Brooks tightened his grip on the ball. No turning back.

Stormstep burned in his veins. He surged forward, phasing through the wind's grasp. Every instinct screamed to move faster, to push beyond his limits.

He spun past the final spirit and launched the ball toward the hoop.

It swished through the net just as the cyclone exploded in a flash of silver light.

"Trial Complete. Skill Upgrade – Stormstep (Level 1) Acquired."

As the winds died down, Zephyrus stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "You have the heart of a true player, Brooks. But the storm you face is far from over."

Brooks wiped the sweat from his brow. "I'll be ready."

Zephyrus smiled faintly before dissolving into the wind. The golden court faded, and Brooks found himself back in the gym.

His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor, heart pounding in his chest.

He had won again. But each Trial pushed him closer to the edge.

And something told him the Fourth Trial would be unlike anything he had faced before.