In a cozy room where silence reigned like an old friend, the morning sunlight poured in through wide windows, too bright to ignore. A sudden gust of wind yanked the curtains upward, as if impatient. Low-volume murmurs spilled from a TV left running—its presence casual, maybe even accidental. On screen, a well-dressed woman smiled brightly as she spoke, while a cat lay fast asleep on the sofa, unbothered by the world's attempt at noise.
No one was watching. And yet, the voices kept going.
The cold in the room wasn't bitter. It was the kind of quiet chill that seeps in during foggy winter mornings—nostalgic, even soothing, if you're into that kind of mood. Beyond the glass, a sky thick with mist loomed, blurring everything into greys. The TV flickered from scene to scene, chasing meaning it would never catch.
If you got close enough to the screen, the background noise became coherent—some sort of morning news segment, glossy and prepackaged. The anchorwoman, too chipper for this hour, jumped between curated headlines.
"E-sports have been gaining notable traction lately," she announced, "with over 10 million young viewers—mostly between 15 and 35—carving out time in their day to watch their favorite players stream."
A statistic. A sentence. A pause. And then—
"This year alone, our country has seen a 200% rise in those numbers. Professional competitions now pull in nearly 30 million in-person attendees, with untold others watching through live-streaming apps. Our neighboring countries have taken notice of our booming gaming industry."
A graph blinked onto the screen—something colorful and dramatic with lines shooting past expected limits, bleeding red, blue, green. Upwards, always upwards. Success looks prettier in gradients.
Then the background changed, snapping into a new reality: a massive arena, the camera now in the hands of a second woman reporting live. She stood outside the venue, where fog and excitement clashed in the air. People buzzed around her like well-dressed bees, all seemingly sure of why they were here.
"This is the Country M E-Sports Arena, where in just a few minutes, teams YIQX and CKE will face off for this year's Winter Tournament crown. The venue seats about 100,000 people," she said, then added with a faint chuckle, "and yet, outside here, the crowd overflows. The stands sold out hours ago."
Four giant screens loomed above each entrance, set to stream the finals in high-definition. The hype was obvious. CKE, the talented new kids on the block; YIQX, the seasoned veterans with the weight of a nation's expectation strapped to their mousepads.
The reporter approached a cluster of screaming fans.
"Young man, which team are you rooting for today?"
The boy, maybe in his early twenties, practically exploded.
"YIQX! They're the GOATs. No one's beating them, not today, not ever!"
More cheers erupted behind him. The herd had spoken.
The anchorwoman smiled politely, backed away from the chaos, and retreated to a quieter spot.
"As you can see, YIQX remains the fan favorite. Final results will be posted soon on the official Winter Tournament page, hosted by the Country M E-Sports Association on X. I'm signing off. Now over to my colleague, Pulia. Have a good morning."
The broadcast cut back to the studio. Bottom right corner: 10:23 a.m.
But now, new sounds emerged—this time, not from the TV, but from within the room.
A young woman entered from another space. Long auburn hair falling down her back, one hand clutching a small chocolate milk with a straw, the other gripping her phone.
She knelt beside the couch, placed the drink on the glass coffee table, and gently stroked the sleeping cat. It purred in response, and for a moment, her lips curled into a rare, soft smile.
Then she sat. Ignored the still-chattering television. Unlocked her phone. One tap took her straight to her profile on X, and from there to the infamous E-Sports gossip community page.
Hundreds of new comments in mere minutes. Notifications pinged like machine-gun fire.
She scrolled without focus, eyes glazing over absurd gossip until she landed on a post by someone called "Gossip Girl."
She raised an eyebrow. That name. Really?
Still, the post was long—long enough to pass as a college essay, if not for the overfamiliar tone. Gossip Girl wrote like someone talking to their besties: fast, funny, and two seconds away from oversharing. A well-informed child hyped on sugar.
But then, one specific comment froze her attention:
| Rumors say YIQX signed a new female AD! Following in the footsteps of Country Z, which tried to promote female talent in gaming and flopped miserably, YIQX might be next in line for the rat race straight to hell. Do they stand a chance? Is this sexism or realism? Drop your thoughts below ↓
That was it. The final line.
Posted exactly 47 minutes ago.
She locked her phone. Stared at the screen. The lock wallpaper: a photo of her younger self beside an older boy, both caught mid-laugh.
She whispered, teeth clenched:
"Brother… I'll finish your dream. Just a little longer. And I'll make them pay. That, I swear."
Her eyes drifted toward the TV, but the images didn't register anymore. Her focus had already moved on.