The voice on the other end was smooth, calm, and carried the weight of immutable fact, like a judge delivering a verdict. It was a voice Kyle knew from a hundred documentaries, from the signature swoosh on the shoes of every legend he'd ever idolized.
"Kyle? This is Phil Knight. We've been watching. Nike's been watching."
He froze mid-step. The sounds of the departing arena—the fading echo of the crowd, the distant, metallic clang of a janitor's cart, the squawk of a security radio—all dissolved into a high-pitched hum in his ears. The speculative whispers from his agent about a potential merger between his fledgling brand, Kyonic, and the global behemoth of Nike had just been given a face, a voice, and terrifying immediacy.
