Name It

The gym lights buzzed overhead, casting long shadows across the court. Peitra, Diego, Luka, and Ammon stood in a semi-circle around Berg, their expressions unreadable.

"So," Peitra started, arms crossed, "what exactly is your deal?"

Berg raised an eyebrow. "My deal?"

Diego smirked. "Yeah, man. We've seen what you can do, but no one plays like that naturally. You pull off passes that shouldn't be possible. It's like—"

"—like you see things before they happen," Luka finished, his voice steady.

Berg remained silent.

Ammon's gaze was sharp, analyzing him. "How does it work?"

Berg exhaled, spinning the ball in his hands. "I just… see the court differently."

Diego scoffed. "That doesn't explain anything."

Berg sighed, looking toward the hoop. "It's hard to put into words. When I play, I don't just see where people are—I see where they're going to be. Every movement, every shift in weight, the way someone positions their feet… it all tells me what they'll do next. I don't think about it—it just happens."

Peitra's eyes narrowed. "So you predict everything?"

Berg shook his head. "Not everything. But enough."

Diego ran a hand through his hair. "That's insane. It's like… precognition or some anime bullshit."

Luka, silent up until now, finally spoke. "Test it."

Peitra smirked. "Yeah. Let's see it in action."

Diego grinned. "Three of us will guard you. Your only job is to pass the ball to Ammon. No dribbling past us, no fancy footwork—just passing. If you get it to him five times in thirty minutes, you win."

Berg looked at them, then at Ammon. "That's it?"

Peitra's smirk widened. "That's it. Show us how you see the court."

Berg sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Fine."

The ball hit his palm.

The game began.

The moment Berg held the ball, Peitra, Diego, and Luka closed in instantly. Peitra's long arms stretched out, cutting off the direct pass. Diego, quick on his feet, moved aggressively to intercept any openings. Luka stayed low, watching Berg's every muscle twitch, waiting for him to make a mistake.

But Berg's eyes remained calm.

A split second later, he moved.

The ball left his hands before any of them reacted. It bounced once, then shot past Luka's ankle at an impossible angle.

Ammon caught it.

"One," Berg said flatly.

Luka frowned. "Tch. Lucky."

Peitra passed the ball back. "Do it again, then."

Berg didn't answer. He just waited.

This time, the defense tightened.

Diego stepped closer. "Let's see if you can get past me now."

Berg took a deep breath.

Then, with a quick flick of his wrist, the ball shot straight toward Diego's face.

"Shi—!" Diego flinched, throwing his hands up, but the ball was never meant for him. At the last moment, it curved mid-air—right into Ammon's hands.

Two.

Diego turned around, stunned. "What the hell?! That… shouldn't be possible!"

Berg just smirked.

The next play was even worse for them.

Peitra swung his arm to steal the ball—only for it to somehow vanish.

The next thing he knew, Ammon was dunking.

Three.

Luka's brows furrowed. He wasn't the type to be easily impressed, but even he had to admit—this wasn't just good passing.

Berg wasn't just seeing the game.

He was predicting it.

Peitra clenched his jaw. "Alright, no more games."

They locked down Berg completely.

Luka went full lockdown mode, cutting off every passing angle. Diego was practically breathing down Berg's neck. Peitra moved in sync with Luka, covering every possible opening.

There was no way a pass could get through.

But Berg didn't look worried.

He simply turned his back—then flicked the ball backward, over his head.

A blind pass.

It spun perfectly, hitting the ground at an angle no one expected—except for Ammon, who was already moving before the ball even reached him.

Four.

Luka's hands twitched.

Peitra wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

Diego muttered, "This is some Shadow Slave-level bullshit."

The final play was the worst.

Peitra and Luka both jumped at the same time, expecting Berg to pass forward.

He didn't.

Instead, he threw the ball straight at the rim from full court.

For a second, everyone thought he had just chucked it away—until the ball hit the backboard and bounced off—straight to Ammon.

Five.

Berg dusted his hands off. "Done."

The three defenders stood there, breathing hard.

Diego, still bent over, ran a hand through his hair. "Dude… that's not normal."

Ammon stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "It's not just passing."

Luka grunted. "Yeah. It's like you already know where we'll move before we do."

Berg simply picked up the ball and spun it on his finger. "I just see things."

Peitra, still catching his breath, scoffed. "Hmph. We'll see if it works in an actual game."

Diego, however, grinned. "Damn, this team is actually dangerous."

Luka crossed his arms, thinking. "If Berg can do this in a real match…" He glanced at Peitra. "You still think he's just some passer?"

Peitra remained silent for a moment.

Then, he smirked. "We'll find out tomorrow."

Berg sighed. "You guys are overhyping it."

But Ammon simply nodded, his golden-brown eyes calm. "No. You're different."

Berg met his gaze. Something about Ammon's tone made it sound less like a compliment—and more like a statement of fact.

As they left the court, a figure leaned against the doorway, having watched the entire thing.

A grin spread across their lips.

"Interesting…"

Their fingers tapped against their arm.

"Let's see how far you guys can go."

Diego asked before putting in his jacket. "Predicting the future is some next level stuff, basically magic. So, you should name it!'

Berg looked at him in an awkward stance. "You're to over you know? And besides this isn't actual magic, it's simple luck with my predictions"

"You know what, naming your abilities is fun" Luka said with a grinning face while caressing his chin.

"Even you, huh?" Pietra sighed. "To be honest it is fun, I have a name recommendation"

"Berg don't listen to him I have a better name for it!" Diego shouted at him.

"Hes the one who has the ability, he should be the one to name it" Luka suggested.

"Well I'll think about it then.."

'Naming my ability? There over reacting, it's just simple predictions' Berg thought 'But, it doesn't hurt to name it though! Let's see... Future sight? Nah too over used, Future fracture? Too unique! I'll have to think this through!'