An unmoving, unclothed body lay sprawled on the marble floor. For some time, it continued to lie there, but the passage of this time was meaningless, for, in that place, the causality which served as the foundation of all existence was divorced from the flow of time. Then, the man awoke, and, in confusion, got to his feet.
Marcus Smart looked around him. Wherever he was, it was very quiet. Sturdy stone walls extended away from him in both directions. Below him was a floor made of smooth marble, the gently waving striations of the polished rock giving it an almost ocean-like appearance. Above, silvery clouds served as a ceiling, letting through diffuse rays of light that could have been from the sun, but the telltale disc of the Earth’s companion star was absent.
Thinking that he was in some kind of dream-state, Marcus began to walk, thinking that he should at least try to explore while he waited to wake up. He walked and walked, but the hall seemed to be infinite, with only the occasional bench or fountain breaking up the monotony. Occasionally, he would stop to peer out of one of the cathedral-esque arched windows, but there was nothing beyond any of them except a gray void filled with the same sort of gentle, dispersed golden light.
Marcus found himself unperturbed by his situation. Even though the place had the potential to be nightmarish, with its infinite nature that could quite easily be a loop that he was stuck in forever, he found it to be extremely peaceful.
When Marcus noticed a distant figure sitting on one of the benches, he approached it with faint curiosity, but not much urgency. There had previously been no indication that anybody was present in the hall other than himself.
The white-robed man looked up when he saw Marcus’ approach. “Oh, hello. I was not expecting a visitor today, otherwise I would have been on my patrol.”
“Your patrol?” Marcus asked. The man’s comment had made no sense to him.
“Yes,” the man replied. As the appointed guardian of the Hall of the Thirty Point Scorers, it is one of my duties to ensure that visitors are greeted in a timely fashion.” He had gotten another robe from somewhere and handed it to Marcus.
“The Hall of the Thirty Point Scorers…” Marcus whispered while he donned the garment. The fantastic, yet isolated, nature of the place was all at once becoming clearer to him. “But who are you? Couldn’t they have gotten, like, Kareem to be the guardian?”
“Watch your tone,” the man warned. “I am Carlos Delfino, and I was appointed for a reason which only the Overseers will know. I get the feeling that Kareem’s got obligations elsewhere.”
This cryptic comment didn’t answer Marcus’ question to his satisfaction. He was about to press for more information, but Carlos started talking again. “Hey, you’re Marcus Smart, aren’t you? There has been much discussion of you among the Overseers.”
“I am,” Marcus replied. “Why were y’all talking about me?”
Carlos sighed, but Marcus didn’t know why the man should be annoyed with him. “If you must know, we had put together a list of players who must be banished from the Hall at first sight, for their scoring abilities were known to be so woeful that their appearance in the Hall of the Thirty Point scorers could be nothing but a mistake.”
“You can’t kick me out, I scored thirty for real,” Marcus replied. The prospect of being banished from a place that was so serene was upsetting to him.
“That’s what they all say,” Carlos said dismissively. “There are no exceptions here, Marcus. You must leave at once.”
Now Marcus was really upset. “Screw you man. I’m not going anywhere.” He spotted a scroll of paper sticking out of Carlos’ pocket and correctly guessed its purpose. “Check your list there. My name’s on it, guaranteed.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence with your feeble lies,” Carlos said. “Get out!”
“How about YOU get out?” Marcus retorted, and then he did something that had never happened before in the history of the Hall: he punched the guardian. When Marcus’ fist contacted Carlos’ face, he didn’t actually feel the force of the contact: pain must not have been a thing in the Hall. Carlos reacted with anger, not pain, and grabbed Marcus by the shoulders. Marcus, likewise, grabbed Carlos around the waist, and they fell to the floor, rolling around. In the process of this, the scroll fell from Carlos’ robe.
“Aha!” Marcus shouted triumphantly, unrolling the scroll and finding his name listed at the bottom of it. “Vindication!”
“Gimme that!” Carlos snapped, grabbing the scroll out of Marcus’ grip, causing it to tear slightly. “If the Overseers find out that you’ve been looking at these secret documents, they’ll demote me for sure. I’ll allow you to stay, but know that it is the official opinion of Hall leadership that your thirty point game was a fluke.”
Marcus was already striding away from the man. “Whatever. I’m gonna chill out somewhere far away from you.”