Two days after tryouts, Michael's name was already being whispered in the hallways.
Not loudly. Not with awe—yet.
But with curiosity.
"Is he new?" "He doesn't talk much, huh?" "Yo, he made Jamal look stupid at tryouts."
Michael didn't care. He was too locked in.
Before school, he was on the court. After school, he trained. In between, he hit the library to watch old Jordan film and handwrite breakdowns.
His phone was trash—a brick with no camera—but one of the JV kids had filmed part of the tryout scrimmage. That clip made its way to a local high school basketball forum by Friday.
Title: "WHO IS THIS 6'9 MONSTER?"
The clip showed Michael faking a spin, stepping back into a fadeaway, and swishing it over a smaller defender.
Comments trickled in.
"That footwork is wild." "Kid's huge. Is he 17?" "Looks like a young T-Mac or some sh*t." "MJ fade? Damn."
Michael's system pinged quietly while he worked on mid-post footwork that afternoon.
[Progress: 2.12%][Skill Refinement: Turnaround Fade Consistency +1%]
He'd felt it too—his balance was cleaner. The rhythm smoother. His body no longer needed to think about foot placement. It just did it.
That night, he stood in front of the mirror shirtless, flexing his arms.
More definition. Less fat. Still 14. Still growing.
"I could've had this the first time around," he muttered.
A wave of grief swept through him, uninvited. His parents. The hospital visits. The games he couldn't finish. The pills. The noise of monitors during sleep.
All gone.
He stared at his reflection.
"Don't waste it."
Next Monday, the team list went up.
Michael's name was dead center. #23 – Schmidt
Jamal—the buzzcut guard—stood nearby, arms folded. His jaw flexed.
Michael gave him a nod. "You gonna pass the ball this time?"
Jamal scoffed, but walked off.
Coach Alvarez posted a note below the list:
"First scrimmage in two weeks. Roster locked. Get ready."
That weekend, a second clip surfaced.
This one showed Michael swiping a steal, euro-stepping around two defenders, and finishing with a finger roll.
By Sunday, a small Instagram page reposted it with the caption:
"This kid is DIFFERENT."
And for the first time, Michael's name started spreading beyond campus.
Not viral. Not famous.
But noticed.
Just enough to let the world know:
Something was coming.
[Progress: 2.31%][Attribute Gain: Lateral Quickness +1]
The grind didn't stop.
But the whispers were growing louder.