It was already three a.m, in a neighborhood of houses; only one still had a dim light coming out of it. It was Nathaniel's room, with dark underbags and teary red eyes—yes, he was staring at the dimly lit monitor.
The greatest: "IDIOTE, IDIOTE, THE GATES; THEY ARE AT THE GATES! WHERE ARE YOU!?"
Nathaniel screamed out as he was leading a cavalry charge, looking at the mini-map, though he had second thoughts about turning around to defend.
The greatest: "SHOULD I TURN AROUND?"
La Idiote: "WAIT—SIX SIX SIX IS HEALING ME, JUST CONTINUE THE CHARGE!"
Idiote answered, being healed in a tower beside the gate. Quick heal, then a casual stroll down the stairs, and there it was, he thought: easy game.
Alas, he was too slow. The enemies had already barged through the gates.
The greatest: "IDIOTE!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? LOLI221, RUN! JUST RUN TO THE BA—"
Loli221 fell. DEFEAT!! The screen flickered those words like a badge of honor—you tried at least, vibes.
It was an important tournament he was playing in, the defense battle game between the Iron Empire and the northern tribes.
Suddenly, on the side of the monitor, a mic flickered on; someone tried saying in a hushed voice:
La Idiote: "So—"
Nathaniel slammed his hand against the keyboard, making the mic turn on automatically as he accidentally clicked the V button. He was filled with rage, as the tournament could have been a game-changer—the total prize for first place was one million dollars, after all.
The greatest: "FUCKING USELESS PIGS!" he yelled, raising a hand with one finger straightened. "CAN'T EVEN DEFEND ONE TOWER WHILE I WAS CHARGING WITH THE CAVALRY!?" He slammed against something again—this time it was the table as he stood up. "USELESS, USELESS—I SHOULD'VE PLAYED ALONE IF I KNEW YOU GUYS WERE THIS FUCKING RETARDED. HELL, NPCS WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER TEAMMATES!"
He spat onto his monitor, thinking no one could hear him anyway.
He breathed in and out, feeling his chest heaving, the anger still hot in his veins.
Sweat dripped from his brow, and his fingers twitched as if itching for the next command. He wanted to throw something, smash the desk, curse the game itself—but he stopped.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was his ragged breathing and the faint hum of the computer.
Suddenly, someone spoke by name:
Loli221: "That's going too far. Useless—you mean us?" His voice grew louder as Nathaniel realized what he had done.
The greatest: "YEAH, USELESS! YOU WERE THE KING; WHY WEREN'T YOU RUNNING? I COULD HAVE TURNED AROUND AND TAKEN BACK THE GATES!"
Loli221: "We carried YOUR SHITTY ARROGANT ASS TO THIS LEAGUE, NATHANIEL! HAS IT NOT BEEN FOR ME, YOU WOULD'VE FALLEN OUT LONG AGO. THIS IS A DEFENSE GAME, YOU KNOW!? ALL YOU DO IS SCREAM, RAGE, AND GIVE ORDERS. PLAYING AS A FUCKING TYRANT CHARACTER DOESN'T GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO BE ONE IRL…"
He turned to his monitor, still dripping with anger. He didn't give in but instead doubled down just as the priestess, Mistress Lovely 666, tried something: "G-Guy—"
Without much success, he leaned in, took a breath, then spit over his monitor as he yelled:
The greatest: "HAAA? YOU? CARRYING ME!? HAH! SURE, RIGHT, RIGHT. WELL THEN HAVE AT IT, I'M LEAVING. FUCK YOU, ALL OF YOU. I'M OUT. BETTER BE ALONE THAN WITH A BUNCH OF GOOD-FOR-NOTHINGS' PUSSIES!"
Picking up his keyboard from the ground, he threw it onto the table, ready to leave the party and close in for the night.
Loli221: "THAT'S RIGHT, LEAVE! YOU ALWAYS DO, THEN BEG TO JOIN BACK IN. WELL, THIS—" His voice disappeared as the monitor turned black; he had turned it off.
Looking at his keyboard, he realized more letters had fallen out—this time the N and G. Two very important letters he used daily. He sighed as he dropped back onto his chair, leaning against it. "Ahhh. ARRRRGH…" He glanced around, picking up a pack of cigarettes—empty.
He leaned in to open the mini-fridge, hoping for an energy drink… empty.
"GREAT, GREAT, JUST GREAT. MY LUCK!" he breathed in and out a few more times, trying to relax. Won't do… I need them.
He thought, glancing between the empty pack and mini-fridge. He stood up, put on a light jacket, and left his house. His path was toward the nearby convenience store, which was open 24/7; its bright lights lit half the street.
Ting.
Entering, the doorbell welcomed him. Behind the counter was a red-haired teen girl chewing gum. "Welcome—"
He approached and nodded. "Pack of Green Brewies, and… wait a second." He left the counter, approached the fridge, opened it, and took out two cans of a cheap energy drink.
Enough for now… I'm tight on the wallet… AH, damn you, Loli, if only…
Approaching the counter again, he tried to gently drop the cans on it.
"That's all?" she asked.
"Yeah, sure."
Click.
She glanced at him as she scanned the cigarettes, grinning as she saw him nervous and a bit sweaty. She already knew him, after all—a regular night owl like her, coming for a pack of cigs every night without fail, at precisely four a.m., dead in the morning in other words. "Again?" she asked quietly.
Click.
"Ah yeah, you know, huh? I tried to appear less—"
"Nervous?"
"Yeah."
"It's noticeable. Eyes don't lie, you know."
He nodded. "I guess…"
She had already finished scanning everything, even putting it in a bag. "That'll be twelve ninety-nine."
"That… much?"
"Yeah, prices rose again. What can I say? Stop smoking? Haha…"
He took out his wallet and clutched a ten-dollar bill; he didn't have more. "As if… Put the can back for me, will ya?"
She sighed and leaned in, looking at his wallet as he stepped back. "H-Hey! Privacy?"
Leaning back, she smiled and took one out. "Then how about we drink one together, hm?"
"Is it fine..? I mean, you're on the clock—"
"Ehh, it's fine, it's fine. No one's gonna come, and even if they do, I can just follow them right back on."
"I guess…"
He handed the ten-dollar bill over, and she put it in the cashier. Then she went around the counter and nodded her head toward the doors. "C'mon."
As they stood in front of the store, the morning sun just barely peeked over the horizon.
He took out a cigar and patted his pockets down, then closed his eyes in frustration again, making a slight grimace. Suddenly…
Click.
His cigar was lit; smoke hit his face. He took one big drag, then smiled.
"You fucking addict," she teased.
"Ah, shut up."
She leaned in and puffed her lips. "Fwohh me?"
He shook his head. "Addict…" Then he took one out and handed it to her.
"Seventeen-year-olds shouldn't be smoking…"
"You tell me, Nathaniel…"
"I know… I'm saying it for both of us."
As they smoked, halfway through, she leaned in closer. "Sooo, got in a fight again?"
He laughed a bit. "You sure know how to interrogate…"
"Hehe."
"Yeah, pretty big one actually… It's their fault anyway. The tournament was… important."
"More important than friends?"
"Definitely…"
She shook her head a bit as she opened her energy drink. "Hmm, I wouldn't say so. I mean, just yesterday around this time, you were all smiling and cheerful, telling me what La Idiote did, and how Miss—what an embarrassing name—Six Six Six was trying to stop him."
He smiled, remembering. "Yeah, well, yesterday was yesterday. Today is today… and it sucks. Like the rest of my life anyway," he muttered, so she couldn't hear him.
"And if it weren't for them, would you have come this far in the first place?"
He stopped for a bit as he thought. "Or something like that…" She blushed as he laughed a bit. "Forget it, who am I to lecture you anyway… Ahaha."
She was right. If not for them, he'd never get so far; after all, it was a tower defense game, and he was an extremely offensive, arrogant prick—not contributing to the team in the least.
He shook his head. "No… you're right."
She stopped smiling. "Huh?"
He continued as he stepped forward. "Sorry, I gotta go now… Thanks for the drink."
She nodded and smiled. "Sure, see you tomorrow then."
As he started running a bit, he turned around and smiled. "Yeah! See you tomorrow!"
It was time to apologize and beg to be back in again. That happened almost every week—so it was a common occurrence for their team, and the cashier more or less.
But as he stepped through his house doors, he noticed a white glimmer coming from his room.
Didn't I… turn off the computer?
Then a chill ran down his spine. His vision blurred for a second, the room seeming to fold in on itself. The screen flashed white, the words "DEFEAT" vanishing into nothing.
A voice, calm but unfamiliar, whispered from the mic:
Unknown ???: "Perhaps… you're meant to play a different kind of game, Nathaniel."
He froze, staring at the monitor. The cursor moved on its own, scrolling through options he hadn't touched. One word glowed in red: REINCARNATE.
Nathaniel blinked. He rubbed his eyes. "What the—?"
Before he could react, the world lurched. Light tore through his room, pulling him toward the screen, the smell of burnt circuits and ink filling his nose. His body felt weightless, untethered, as if reality itself was unraveling. And then—darkness.
When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer in his room. The smell of damp earth, the clamor of soldiers, and the sharp tang of steel filled his senses. Towering banners of clashing swords below a crown flapped in the wind, emblazoned with colors he recognized from the game: the Iron Empire and the northern tribes.
"What the… actual…?"
He was thrown into the very game from which he had rage-quit.