First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess

Ever since the instructor announced that students had to participate in at least one sport activity, Xavier had been worried. He considered paying the instructor to get out of it, but he’d already used up his daily $10,000 limit by transferring it to the hacker.

In the end, Xavier decided to participate in a team sport that wouldn’t require much movement. Individual sports were out of the question - they required too much effort. He scanned the options: baseball, volleyball, football - all too physically demanding. But when basketball was announced, Xavier found himself intrigued.

’Maybe I could participate in that’, he thought. The instructor had said they just needed to join one activity - performance didn’t matter. As long as he pretended to play, he’d be fine.

Two teams of eight were formed - red and yellow. Xavier ended up on the red team, and to his shock, Lucas and Leonardo were on the yellow team.

’If I’d known they were playing, I never would have joined,’ Xavier thought, his stomach twisting with anxiety.

The match began, and immediately the yellow team dominated. Lucas and Leonardo moved with predatory grace, their enhanced bodies making them nearly unstoppable. The red team struggled to keep up, their passes intercepted, their shots blocked with ease.

As Xavier watched, he wondered if the yellow team’s dominance was due to skill or fear. The other students seemed hesitant to challenge Lucas and Leonardo directly.

The scoreboard glowed with holographic numbers: 21-0 in favor of the yellow team. Xavier stood on the court, barely moving, pretending to be engaged in the game. He made no real effort to catch the ball or score points. All he wanted was for the match to end as quickly as possible.

The ball came his way, bouncing toward him. Xavier froze, his mind racing. ’Should I pick it up? What if I mess up? What if they target me?’

Before he could decide, Leonardo swooped in, snatching the ball away with a smirk. ”Watch where you’re standing, village rat,” he sneered, dribbling past Xavier with ease.

Xavier’s face burned with humiliation, but he said nothing. He just wanted this ordeal to be over.

The first round ended in complete annihilation for the red team. The scoreboard glowed with the humiliating result: 37-0 in favor of the yellow team. Xavier had enjoyed the five-minute rest period more than anything else, but all too soon, the second round began.

Once again, Lucas and Leonardo dominated the court, their enhanced bodies moving with predatory grace. The ball seemed magnetically drawn to them, their team maintaining complete control.

Then, as always, the ball came bouncing toward Xavier. He prepared to pretend to go for it, expecting someone else to swoop in and take it at the last moment. But this time, no one came. The ball rolled right into his hands.

Xavier froze, the leather texture of the ball strange against his palms. He didn’t know what to do with it, so in a panic, he tossed it toward the net. To his shock, the ball sailed through with a perfect arc - three points.

Silence fell over the court. All eyes turned to Xavier, not in celebration, but in stunned disbelief. The real shock wasn’t that he’d scored - it was that he’d taken the ball from Lucas himself.

Lucas stalked past Xavier, his voice a low growl. ”You’re dead after this match, village rat. Be ready to die today.”

Normally, such threats would have sent Xavier scrambling for safety. But this time was different. A spark of defiance ignited in his chest. This was his chance.

From that moment on, whenever the ball came near Xavier, he snatched it. And to everyone’s astonishment, every shot he took scored three points. His aim was uncannily perfect, as if guided by some unseen force.

The red team began to catch up. The other students, emboldened by Xavier’s sudden skill, started playing with new energy. Cheers erupted from the sidelines, most of them directed at Xavier. The scoreboard ticked upward - 37-3, then 37-6, then 37-9.

Lucas’s face darkened with each successful shot. His movements became more aggressive, his passes sharper, his defense more brutal. But Xavier kept scoring, his confidence growing with each basket.

The crowd’s cheers grew louder. Some students even started chanting Xavier’s name. The red team’s morale soared. The gap narrowed - 37-12, then 37-15.

Xavier could feel the shift in the air. For the first time since arriving at the academy, he wasn’t the victim. He wasn’t the weak link. He was the underdog making a comeback, and the crowd was behind him.

As the score reached 37-18, Lucas’s frustration boiled over.

Lucas’s face twisted with rage as the scoreboard showed 37-21. His movements became more aggressive, his passes sharper, his defense more brutal. He stopped passing to his teammates entirely, determined to humiliate Xavier personally.

But Xavier was ready. He watched Lucas’s every move with intense focus, anticipating the ball’s trajectory. When Lucas tried to dribble past him, Xavier snatched the ball with surprising ease, his reflexes perfectly timed. He scored another three-pointer, the crowd erupting in cheers.

The red team’s morale soared. They began playing with new energy, their passes becoming more coordinated. The score ticked upward - 37-24, then 37-27. The gap was closing.

Lucas’s frustration boiled over. He charged at Xavier, his shoulder slamming into Xavier’s chest. Xavier went down hard, the wind knocked from his lungs. The referee’s whistle blew sharply, but Lucas just sneered down at Xavier.

”Lucky shots won’t save you,” he hissed.

Xavier pushed himself up, his body aching but his spirit unbroken. He met Lucas’s glare with new determination. The game wasn’t over yet.