Key Story (1) - Chapter 11
Raxian sat back in his chair, staring at the League client, a furrow in his brow. His mind raced as he went over the team's roster, feeling the pressure mounting as the tournament drew closer. They had come a long way—he, Fayne, and Raze had been grinding together for weeks, refining their synergy, learning each other's playstyles. But every practice match brought the same frustrating realization: they were still missing two crucial pieces—a jungler and a top laner.
He leaned forward, running a hand through his hair, the strands sticking up in frustration. He had reached out to a few players he knew from solo queue and discord channels, but nothing seemed to click. Some had decent skills, but lacked the drive to compete seriously. Others just didn't fit with their dynamic, clashing with the rhythm they had started to build. It felt like a setback he couldn't afford.
Raze's voice crackled through the headset, pulling Raxian out of his thoughts. "Yo, Rax, I've been thinking," he said between bites of what sounded like a burger. "What if we stopped looking for just another player and found someone with, you know, a brain for this stuff? Like, someone who knows how to analyze the game and strategize."
Raxian frowned, staring at the list of rejected candidates on his screen. "Yeah, but where are we gonna find someone like that? We need someone who can play and keep up with us."
There was a pause, and then Raze's casual tone came through again, "Fayne, didn't you say you knew someone who used to coach?"
Raxian glanced at the screen, raising an eyebrow. "You mean, like a coach coach?" He couldn't help but feel a twinge of skepticism. They needed someone who could actually perform in-game, not just talk strategy.
Fayne's voice joined the conversation, a little hesitant but firm. "Yeah, Milo. He's more laid-back, but he's been playing for ages and knows the game inside out. He's never been big on team play, but he's a good jungler... and he might be willing to help us out."
Raxian considered this, leaning back in his chair. The idea of bringing in a complete stranger made him uneasy. He didn't like the thought of relying on someone he didn't know, especially with so much on the line. "I don't know," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "What if he doesn't take it seriously?"
Fayne's response came quickly, her tone sincere. "He's not like that. If he says he'll help, he'll mean it. And I think he could be the missing piece we need. Plus, he's got this way of... grounding people. It could help balance us out."
There was a pause, and Raxian could hear the faint sound of Raze's chewing in the background. He sighed, drumming his fingers on the edge of the desk. It wasn't like they had a lot of options left, and if Fayne trusted this guy, maybe he should give it a shot.
"All right," Raxian said finally, though he still sounded uncertain. "Reach out to him. See if he's interested. But if he's gonna join, he needs to be all in. No half-measures."
Fayne's relief was palpable through the headset. "I'll talk to him. I think he might surprise you."
Raxian nodded, even though he knew she couldn't see it. He shut down the chat window, his thoughts churning as he considered what this new addition might mean for the team. It wasn't the straightforward solution he'd hoped for, but maybe... just maybe, it was the one they needed.
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Fayne sat on her bed, her phone resting in her hand, the screen glowing softly in the dim light of her room. She took a deep breath before opening her chat with Milo, trying to choose her words carefully. She knew that asking him to join their team was a long shot—Milo had always been the type to go it alone. But he was their best bet, and she believed he might actually be a good fit for what they needed.
Her thumbs moved over the screen, tapping out a message with a touch of hesitation:
Fayne:
Hey, Milo. Got a favor to ask.
She hit send and waited, her heart beating a little faster than usual. It wasn't long before the familiar typing dots appeared, and she could practically see Milo's puzzled expression on the other side of the screen.
Milo:
Oh? What's up?
Fayne:
So, there's this tournament coming up. Raxian, Raze, and I are planning to enter, but we still need a jungler. Thought you might be interested in joining us?
There was a pause. Fayne could almost hear the gears turning in Milo's head as he processed the request. Finally, his reply came through:
Milo:
Me? On a team with Raxian? I don't even know the guy, Fayne. Besides, I'm more of a solo grind kind of player. You know that.
Fayne chewed on her bottom lip, leaning back against her pillows. She expected that response, but she wasn't going to give up so easily. She started typing again, trying to convey just how much this meant to her—and to the team.
Fayne:
I know you are, but... hear me out, okay? I think this could be a good opportunity for you. Raxian's been improving a lot lately, and honestly, I think he could use someone like you to help keep him grounded. Plus, you'd bring a lot of experience to the team. It wouldn't be just about the tournament—it could be a chance to try something new. Maybe even teach Raxian a thing or two.
She hit send, hoping that she hadn't pushed too hard. A few moments passed, and then she saw the typing dots appear again, lingering longer this time. Milo's response finally popped up, and she could sense the reluctance in his words:
Milo:
I don't know, Fayne. I'm not really the "team player" type. And honestly, I'm not interested in playing just to win. If I do this, I need to see that everyone's serious—especially Raxian. I don't want to deal with any drama.
Fayne's lips twitched into a small smile. It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no, either. She quickly typed back, her fingers moving with renewed hope:
Fayne:
I promise, we're all taking it seriously. Raxian's been putting in the work, and I think you'll be surprised if you give him a chance. Just try one game with us. If you don't feel it's a good fit, no pressure.
There was another pause, longer this time, and Fayne held her breath as she waited for his reply. Finally, the message came through:
Milo:
Fine. I'll give it a shot. But only because you asked.
Fayne:
Thank you, Milo. You have no idea how much this means to me. I'll set up a time for us to play together, and you can meet Raxian then.
Milo:
Yeah, yeah. Just don't expect any miracles.
Fayne let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, a grin spreading across her face as she clutched her phone. She had managed to convince him, and now all that was left was to see how he'd mesh with the team. Part of her worried that Raxian and Milo might clash, but she had to believe that things would work out. At the very least, it was a step forward, and they were running out of time before the tournament began.
She sent a quick message to Raxian, letting him know that Milo had agreed to join them for a practice game. As she put her phone down, a sense of cautious optimism bubbled up inside her. Maybe this crazy idea would actually work out.
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Sable sat at her desk, the glow of her monitors casting sharp shadows across her room. Her fingers tapped idly against her keyboard as she scanned through the latest tournament announcements, her mind drifting back to the deadline looming just a few days away. She knew this tournament could be her chance—a step closer to going pro and making something more of her passion. But there was still one major problem: she didn't have a team.
She leaned back, crossing her arms as she watched her own recorded matches play out on one of the screens. Her smurf account, AkarisLite, had been fun to mess around on, but it was time to take things more seriously. Yet, finding the right people to play with was proving to be harder than she'd imagined.
Her thoughts turned to Raxian, and a small smirk tugged at her lips. He'd improved since their first encounter, and though she hadn't revealed herself to him yet, she'd kept a close eye on his progress. She watched as he played consistently with two familiar names—Serene and RyzeFlicker. Though she didn't know them personally, she could tell they were working together, their plays becoming more coordinated with each passing game. It was a far cry from the headstrong, solo-minded player she had met before.
Maybe I should reach out, she thought, her finger hovering over the keyboard. Or... maybe I'll let him come to me. There was a challenge in that thought, a game she couldn't help but play. Making things easy wasn't her style, and she wanted to see just how far Raxian was willing to go.
She clicked over to a stream of one of their practice matches—a normal draft game, but the way they moved together showed that they were starting to form a real synergy. Sable leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand as she watched Raxian's Ekko dart around the map, coordinating with the other players.
Then, her gaze lingered on the unfamiliar jungler, Pathfinder. Sable's green eyes narrowed with interest as she watched him navigate the jungle with quiet precision. Even in a practice match, the way Pathfinder positioned himself, setting up vision and keeping control of the objectives, spoke of experience.
Interesting, she thought, tilting her head. She clicked open the player profile, scanning the stats, and saw what she expected—Milo. She recognized the name almost immediately. He had a quiet presence in the League community, known not so much for flashy plays but for his depth of game knowledge. Players often spoke of his strategic insight, his ability to break down complex plays and teach others.
So, he's joined up with them, huh? Sable mused, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. It made sense now—their teamwork had a sharper edge, a touch of the discipline that only came with someone who understood the game's deeper layers. She could tell Milo wasn't just another casual player; he brought a different energy, one that made even practice games more meaningful.
Sable smirked, a new idea taking root. So, they've probably formed a team already, huh? She wasn't entirely sure—Raxian hadn't made any announcements, and there were no official rosters yet. But the way he played alongside these two, it was easy to piece together that they were preparing for something bigger.
She logged out of her smurf account and leaned back in her chair, her thoughts racing. Maybe it's time to take action. See if they're really up to the challenge. The smirk softened into a more thoughtful smile as she considered her next move.
If she wanted to join a team, she needed one that wouldn't just go through the motions, but one that would push themselves—and her—to the next level. And maybe, just maybe, Raxian's team was worth that gamble.
Sable closed the stream and powered down her monitors, the idea of reaching out directly to Raxian still lingering in her mind. But for now, she decided to keep her cards close to her chest, watching and waiting for the right moment to make her move. She wasn't done playing the game just yet.
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Raxian stared at his screen, his eyes flickering over the messages from AkarisLite. Their challenge was clear: "One last test before the tournament. 1v1 me if you're serious about this. If you can put up a real fight, maybe we'll talk about teaming up."
Raxian's pulse quickened. He had been wondering about AkarisLite's identity for weeks, feeling the tug of familiarity every time they exchanged words. But the challenge in their message brought his curiosity back into sharp focus. Who are you, really? he wondered, but he pushed the thought aside, smirking as he typed back: "You're on. Let's settle this."
A few minutes later, they were both in a custom game, the map loading up for their one-on-one. It was Summoner's Rift, but with just the two of them, the sprawling lanes felt eerily quiet, like the calm before a storm. Raxian chose his usual pick—Ekko—while AkarisLite locked in Akali. He wasn't surprised; their playstyle always had that deadly, precise edge.
The game began, and Raxian focused all his attention on the screen. Every movement, every cooldown, every positioning mistake could tip the scales in this match. His Ekko darted forward, weaving through minions, while Akali danced around him, both champions clashing in the center of the lane.
The first few exchanges were tentative, both players feeling each other out, but then the pace quickened. Raxian found himself pushed to the limit, AkarisLite's Akali diving in with pinpoint precision, testing his reactions. But Raxian wasn't the same player he had been weeks ago. He held his ground, landing stuns with his Timewinder and slipping away with Phase Dive before Akali's shurikens could connect.
Their health bars danced dangerously low, and for a moment, it felt like the outcome could swing either way. But just as Raxian went for a final all-in, AkarisLite pulled off a clean sidestep, dodging his Chronobreak and securing the kill with a burst of damage.
The screen flashed Defeat, but Raxian couldn't help but smile as he leaned back in his chair, his hands still buzzing with adrenaline. He had lost, but he had never felt more in control during a match against AkarisLite. And he knew he had earned their respect—he could feel it in the way the game had played out, how they had taken him seriously from start to finish.
A message popped up in chat as they both returned to the lobby.
AkarisLite: "Not bad, TimeWarped. You've come a long way."
Raxian grinned, typing back. "Guess that means you're joining us, then?"
There was a pause before the next message came through, and Raxian's heart skipped a beat when he saw the words:
AkarisLite: "Turn on your camera. Let's talk face to face."
Raxian blinked, the request catching him off guard. He hesitated for a moment, then reached for his webcam, adjusting it as he turned it on. The small window popped up on the side of his screen, showing his own image—and then, a second window appeared, revealing AkarisLite's face.
But it wasn't just a random player staring back at him. It was Sable.
She leaned back in her chair, a small, knowing smile playing at her lips. Her dark hair, streaked with subtle blue hues, caught the glow of her monitor, and her green eyes glinted with amusement. "Hey there, TimeWarped," she said, her voice smooth and calm, the same voice that had been taunting him in chat for weeks.
Raxian's jaw dropped, the realization crashing into him like a tidal wave. "Wait, you're AkarisLite?" he blurted out, staring at the screen, half expecting this to be some kind of elaborate joke.
Sable's smile widened slightly, but her tone remained casual, almost teasing. "What, you didn't guess? I thought I left enough hints."
Raxian ran a hand through his hair, letting out a short, incredulous laugh. "I had a feeling, but... damn. You really had me second-guessing myself."
Sable shrugged, her expression softening a touch as she studied him through the screen. "I needed to see if you were serious. About the game, about improving. I didn't want to waste my time with someone who wasn't willing to put in the effort."
Raxian's grin faded, replaced by something more genuine, more determined. "And? What do you think?"
For a moment, Sable just looked at him, her eyes assessing. Then she nodded. "I think you're ready. And I think you'll push me just as much as I'll push you."
Raxian felt a weight lift from his shoulders—a sense of validation he hadn't realized he was searching for. He smirked, leaning closer to the screen. "So, are you joining us because you think we're good, or just because you're curious about what we can do together?"
Sable chuckled softly, the sound warm through the speakers. "Maybe a bit of both. Just don't make me regret it."
Raxian shook his head, a fire sparking in his eyes. "Trust me, I won't."
There was a pause, a beat of silence where Raxian could see the wheels turning in Sable's mind. Then, with a click, a new notification popped up on his League client—a friend request. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the username: Akaris. Not AkarisLite, but her main account, the one that had built a reputation in the League community.
Raxian's breath caught as he hovered over the accept button. It was a small gesture, but he knew what it meant. She was opening the door to something more—trust, mutual respect, and maybe even a shot at something greater. He clicked "Accept," a grin spreading across his face as the notification disappeared.
Sable's voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the moment. "You'd better keep up, Raxian. I don't take things easy on my main."
Raxian's grin turned into a smirk, the challenge in her tone igniting something within him. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
With that, they both logged off for the night, but there was a new energy between them—one that wasn't just about rivalry anymore. It was about a shared goal, a mutual push toward something bigger than either of them alone. And as Raxian shut down his computer, he couldn't help but feel that, for the first time in a long while, he wasn't facing the climb alone.
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Raxian sat in his chair, hands hovering over his keyboard as the League client loaded up. The roster was finally complete: Raze, Fayne, Milo, and now, Sable. It was hard to believe that after weeks of uncertainty, frustration, and a few surprising turns, they had an actual team. For the first time in a long while, he didn't feel like he was chasing something alone.
The familiar ping of the League chat pulled him out of his thoughts, and his eyes flicked to the screen. One by one, the names appeared in the party lobby: RyzeFlicker, Serene, Pathfinder, and finally... Akaris.
His fingers twitched with excitement. This was it—their first official practice as a team.
"Alright," Raxian typed in the chat, his heart thudding in his chest. "Everyone here?"
A series of affirmatives followed, but there was an edge to the responses. He could sense the mixture of excitement and tension in each of them. They were ready, but there was still that unspoken pressure: Could they make this work?
Milo, ever the analyst, typed first. "Let's go over comps. Sable, what do you think for top?"
Sable, true to form, didn't hesitate. "I'm thinking Camille for split-push, or Ornn if we want to play front-to-back." She was direct and confident, and it struck Raxian how quickly she had shifted from rival to teammate. Her voice carried the weight of someone who knew exactly what she was doing.
Raze chimed in next. "I'll stick with Jhin or Kai'Sa. Safe picks. We can flex depending on what we're up against."
Fayne, quieter than the others but no less focused, added, "I've been practicing Janna and Seraphine. I'll play whichever suits the comp."
Raxian nodded to himself. He appreciated how everyone was bringing their strengths to the table, but he couldn't help but feel a weight on his shoulders. He was the one pulling them all together, and he needed to make sure he didn't let them down.
Milo's voice cut through his thoughts again. "Raxian, you've improved a lot in the past weeks, but we need to focus on synergy. Solo talent is great, but the key to winning is how we work as a team."
Raxian let out a slow breath, leaning back in his chair. "I know. We've got the individual talent. Now we just need to make it click."
Sable's message appeared next. "This isn't about carrying solo anymore, Raxian. We win as five, or we don't win at all."
It was the same lesson she'd been drilling into him since their first encounter, but now it felt different. She wasn't just telling him what to do—she was a part of it. A part of something bigger than any one of them alone.
He smiled, fingers hovering over the keys. "Let's do this."
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The game started with the usual tension that comes with high-stakes practice. Each player fell into their role quickly, but the synergy wasn't perfect yet. There were moments where communication felt off—Pathfinder setting up a gank that Raxian wasn't ready for, Akaris initiating a fight that RyzeFlicker couldn't follow up on.
But they adapted fast. Every time something went wrong, they recalibrated. Milo's analytical approach began to shine through as he kept them steady, calling out timers, suggesting rotations, and keeping the tempo of the game. His jungle presence gave them control over objectives in a way Raxian had never experienced before.
Raze and Fayne, who had already built a quiet rapport, held down the bot lane with calm precision. Serene's shields and heals kept RyzeFlicker's Jhin alive through close fights, while Akaris roamed from the top lane, setting up plays and flanking with her signature aggressive style.
Sable's voice crackled through the chat. "Raxian, let's dive mid together. Milo, you coming?"
"On my way," Pathfinder replied, his voice steady, and Raxian felt the pressure build. He had to time it perfectly—Chronobreak and Camille's Hextech Ultimatum could lock down the enemy carry if they played it right.
"Now!" Sable's voice cut through, and Raxian dove in. The screen lit up with spells, the map exploding in a flurry of stuns and flashes. For a moment, everything blurred—his Ekko diving in, rewinding time just as the enemy focused him, only for Akaris' Camille to finish them off with a clean execution.
The enemy Nexus exploded minutes later.
Victory.
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As the victory screen flashed, the tension in the call broke with quiet celebration. They weren't cheering loudly, but there was a mutual understanding that they were onto something.
"Not bad," Sable said, her voice steady but with a hint of satisfaction. "We still need to clean up our comms, but that was solid."
Milo chimed in. "Yeah, I agree. Let's work on rotations next game. That dragon fight was messy."
Raze, ever the laid-back one, laughed. "Just means we're warming up. We'll get it."
Raxian exhaled, a deep sense of accomplishment filling his chest. They were far from perfect, but they had something—a foundation, a team that could actually go somewhere.
"I told you guys," Raxian said, leaning back with a grin. "We've got this."
The others didn't respond immediately, but the silence wasn't awkward—it was charged with anticipation. There was no need to say it out loud. They all knew.
They had a shot.
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As the team logs off, Raxian sits alone in the dim glow of his monitor, the chat window still open. He scans the names—Fayne, Raze, Sable, Milo—each representing a piece of the puzzle that he never thought he'd have. He takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of what's ahead but also a strange, unfamiliar sense of hope.
He types one last message into the chat:
Raxian: "Let's make this count."
With a click, he shuts down his computer, plunging his room into darkness. For the first time in a while, he feels a sense of calm settle over him. The tournament is coming, and for once, he's not facing it alone.