Key Story (2) - Chapter 4
Sable's screen glowed again with the victory banner, but it didn't bring the usual rush. It had been weeks since she really felt anything after winning. The game had become her refuge, a place where she could drown out everything gnawing at her thoughts. Raxian, the tension, the weird distance between them—it weighed on her in a way she wasn't used to. He wasn't testing her anymore, wasn't playing along with her teasing. It was like she couldn't get a rise out of him at all lately, and it threw her off her game.
She sighed, leaning back in her chair, staring at the post-game stats. No matter how much she played, nothing felt the same. Another ping popped up—a friend request. Sable clicked it absently, expecting another random player from the match.
Lynx.
Her eyes narrowed. Lynx, from the tournament? Her mind flashed back to the match: his cocky attitude, his relentless aggression. He'd reminded her of Raxian in a way—that same spark of ego, that same drive to win at all costs. The only difference was, she hadn't minded when Raxian did it.
Was he looking for a rematch? She could use the distraction. Kicking Lynx's ass again sounded like just what she needed. She clicked "Accept."
Immediately, a message came through.
Lynx (NightProwl): "Hey. Got something you might be interested in."
Sable frowned, her fingers hesitating over the keyboard. What the hell was he talking about?
Sable (Akaris): "What's this about?"
There was a brief pause before his response came.
Lynx (NightProwl): "It's an opportunity. Something that could benefit you. Meet me online later. I'll explain."
Sable leaned back, the familiar sensation of distrust creeping in. Lynx had always been like this—vague, cocky, and unpredictable. In another world, she might have found it fun, like the way she used to spar with Raxian. But lately, the games weren't fun anymore. Especially not when they reminded her of him.
Her phone buzzed on the desk, pulling her from her thoughts.
Sable glanced down at the screen, expecting another message from Mira or Leah. They'd been trying to pull her out of her League marathon, coaxing her into some social event. But Sable couldn't bring herself to care about hanging out. She wasn't avoiding them, not on purpose anyway—she just didn't feel like socializing.
But this message wasn't from them. Milo's name flashed on her screen.
Sable blinked, surprised. Milo never texted her unless it was serious. She swiped open the notification, and her stomach twisted at the urgency of the words.
Milo: "We need to talk. It's important."
She sat up straight, her heart skipping a beat. What could Milo possibly need to talk to her about?
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The juice bar was buzzing with the sound of blenders whirring and quiet chatter filling the air, but it felt oddly detached from Sable as she sat in the booth, staring at her smoothie. Milo had insisted on meeting in person, which already set her on edge. He wasn't the type to leave his comfort zone, and the fact that he'd come all the way here, to her city, no less, made her uneasy. This wasn't normal for him—or for her, for that matter.
She absently swirled her drink, the straw making soft clinks against the sides of the glass as her eyes scanned the juice bar menu overhead. She wasn't reading it. Her mind kept circling back to Lynx's message. An opportunity? Vague. Annoyingly vague. She hated when people danced around the point.
Just as she was about to send Lynx another message, the bell over the door jingled, and Milo stepped in. He looked as out of place as she expected—his oversized hoodie pulled up, the strings loose like he was trying to make himself as invisible as possible. His usual calm demeanor seemed strained, and without so much as a glance around, he made a beeline for her booth, sliding into the seat across from her.
"Sable," he greeted, pulling back his hood slightly. There was no warmth in his voice, no time for pleasantries.
She raised an eyebrow. "Alright, Milo. You dragged me out here. What's going on?"
Milo didn't waste a second. "It's about Lynx."
Her fingers tightened around the cold cup. Lynx again? She hadn't mentioned his message to anyone yet, so how did Milo— "What about him?"
Milo leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if they were being watched. "He contacted me. Weeks ago."
Weeks? Sable frowned, irritation flickering in her eyes. "And you didn't think to tell me?"
Milo looked a little sheepish, but resolute. "I didn't think it was serious at first. Just some weird message. But now—it's not just me. He's reaching out to others. He's got a plan, Sable."
Sable's eyes narrowed. "A plan? For what? A rematch?"
Milo shook his head, his tone more urgent now. "No. It's bigger than just competition. It's not just about League. He's trying to pull in top players, like us, for something outside the game."
Sable stared at him, her mind racing to catch up. "Outside the game? What does that even mean?"
Milo hesitated, choosing his next words carefully. "Zenith's involved too. He contacted me first."
Zenith. The name dropped like a lead weight between them. Sable's mind flashed back to the tournament—Zenith, cold, calculating, relentless. He wasn't just another cocky player like Lynx. He was something else entirely. And now he was pulling strings?
Sable's grip on her drink tightened. "Zenith? What does he have to do with Lynx?"
"He's behind it," Milo replied, his eyes scanning the juice bar for any sign of prying eyes. "Zenith reached out to me first, right after the tournament. Said he'd been watching me. And now, it seems like he's doing the same thing to you, through Lynx."
The irritation shifted into something colder. Sable wasn't used to being toyed with, and if Zenith was trying to drag her into some convoluted scheme, she wasn't about to sit back and let it happen. "And you think Lynx is his puppet?"
Milo nodded. "It's not a coincidence, Sable. They're targeting high-ranking players—you, me, even Raxian."
At the mention of Raxian, her stomach twisted. Raxian was involved too? She hadn't even considered that possibility. She'd been so wrapped up in her own thoughts, in the weird distance between them, that the idea of him being pulled into something bigger hadn't crossed her mind.
Milo's eyes flickered with frustration. "If they've contacted you, they're already deep in their plan. We have to figure out what they're doing before we get dragged into something we can't walk away from."
Sable took a slow sip of her smoothie, her mind racing. Lynx wasn't like Raxian, though she had tried to compare them before. Lynx was more aggressive, more calculating. But this wasn't about a rematch. It was something else—something darker.
"So," she began, her voice steady but sharp, "what do we do?"
Milo glanced around the juice bar, ensuring they weren't overheard, then leaned in further. "We play along, but we don't let them know we're onto them. Zenith is dangerous, and Lynx is just the face of whatever they're planning. We can't trust either of them."
Sable considered that for a moment. It wasn't in her nature to play games on someone else's terms, but Milo wasn't one to sound alarms unless there was a real fire. If Zenith was pulling the strings, that changed everything. Zenith wasn't just another cocky player like Lynx. He was methodical, relentless. And that made this much bigger than she'd initially thought.
She locked eyes with Milo. "Fine. I'll play along. But I'm not letting them get the upper hand."
Milo nodded, though his expression remained tense. "Just be careful. This isn't just about winning games anymore. They're pulling us into something bigger, and we don't know what it is yet."
Sable leaned back in the booth, the weight of the situation sinking in. Zenith, Lynx, Raxian. They were all connected in ways she hadn't seen coming. And now, she was part of it too. Whatever this was, it was more than just a game.
She picked up her phone, opening Lynx's message again. "An opportunity," he had said. But now, knowing what she did, it felt less like an opportunity and more like a trap.
Akaris: "I'm in. Let's see what you've got."
As she hit send, she glanced at Milo, her mind already whirling with possibilities. They were going to figure this out, one way or another.
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The juice bar hummed with the low, comforting sounds of blenders and quiet chatter, but it felt distant to Sable as she swirled her drink absentmindedly. Milo sat across from her in the booth, nursing his own smoothie, which mirrored his calm and practical nature—something with earthy greens, likely chosen for its simplicity. Sable's drink was more vibrant, tropical, full of bold flavors she barely tasted. It was out of character for her to be distracted like this, and she knew it.
After their discussion about Lynx had settled into the background noise, a silence lingered between them. Milo took a slow sip, his gaze occasionally drifting out the window, but it was clear he was waiting for her to speak.
Sable shifted in her seat, eyes cast downward as she tried to figure out how to put her thoughts into words. This wasn't her usual territory. Being open, being vulnerable—it wasn't easy. But something about Milo's quiet, non-judgmental presence made her feel like she could at least try.
Her fingers tightened around the cup. "Do you think… things between people change for a reason? Or do they just change because we let them?"
Milo, having sensed her tension from the moment they sat down, set his drink down carefully. He didn't rush to answer, instead giving her the space she needed. "It depends," he said softly, his voice steady. "Sometimes it's both."
Sable's lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze flicking toward Milo before quickly looking away. "Raxian…" She hesitated, unsure of how to say what was really on her mind. "He doesn't push me like he used to. We used to—well, I guess we used to challenge each other. It felt… normal. But now…" Her voice trailed off as she struggled to describe the unsettling shift between them.
Milo tilted his head slightly, understanding the weight of what she wasn't saying. He'd felt the same thing with Fayne—not quite the same situation, but close enough to resonate. "Things feel different, huh?" he asked gently.
"Yeah," Sable murmured, a touch of frustration in her tone. "He's different around Fayne too. Like, he's calmer. And I know she's not doing anything wrong, but it's like he's not even trying with me anymore." She let out a quiet, bitter laugh. "I don't even know why I care."
Milo could see the hurt beneath her words, even if she didn't want to admit it. He knew that feeling all too well—the sense of drifting away from someone, unsure if you could ever get back to what you had before. The way she spoke of Raxian reminded him so much of his own thoughts about Fayne, how her calmness seemed to ground him, but also made him long for something more.
"You care because it matters," Milo said simply. "It's okay to admit that. Things change between people, but that doesn't mean you have to lose your connection with him."
Sable's eyes narrowed slightly, her fingers tightening around the cup again. "But what if it's already gone? What if we've both moved on without even realizing it?"
Milo leaned forward, his tone quieter but firm. "It doesn't have to be gone. Sometimes people get caught up in their own stuff—Raxian included. But it doesn't mean he's stopped caring about you." He paused, his eyes softening as he added, "I've felt that way about Fayne too."
Sable blinked, her guard lowering slightly at the mention of Fayne. "Fayne?" she echoed, her curiosity piqued. "You mean… you and her?"
Milo gave a faint nod, a small, rueful smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. We're close, but… I don't know where I stand with her sometimes. After the winter break, things felt different. She's been there for me in ways I didn't expect, and I guess… I've been hoping it's more than just that."
Sable stared at him, surprised to hear him open up like this. She hadn't realized just how much Milo was feeling the same kind of uncertainty she was. It was strange, but also comforting, to know that someone else was navigating this uncharted territory too.
Milo met her gaze, his expression thoughtful. "I get the feeling, Sable. Wondering where you fit in, if they still see you the same way. But I don't think Fayne and Raxian are as far ahead of us as we think. Maybe they're just as confused."
Sable frowned slightly, processing his words. "You really think so?"
"I do," Milo replied. "Raxian's been distant, sure, but that doesn't mean he's forgotten what you two have. Maybe it's just a phase, or maybe he's trying to figure himself out, the way we are."
Sable mulled over his words, biting the inside of her cheek. She hated feeling like she was waiting for something—waiting for Raxian to come back to her, to be the way he used to be. But hearing Milo's perspective helped, even if it didn't completely take the weight off her chest.
"And Fayne?" Sable asked, her voice quieter now. "Do you think… do you think she and Raxian…?"
Milo shook his head, a mix of certainty and hope in his voice. "No. I don't think it's like that between them. Fayne's a good friend to him, but…" He hesitated for a second, then continued, "She's not the type to jump into something like that. And trust me, if she had, I think I'd know."
There was a flicker of relief in Sable's expression, though she tried to hide it. She still didn't know what to make of all this, but Milo's reassurance helped her find some grounding in the chaos of her thoughts.
After a beat of silence, Sable exhaled slowly. "It's weird, isn't it? Both of us sitting here, talking about people who don't even realize how much they matter to us."
Milo smiled, a small but genuine smile that spoke of understanding. "Yeah. But maybe that's the point. They don't know, so it's up to us to figure out what we want—and how to deal with it."
Sable met his gaze, the weight of their shared experience hanging between them like an unspoken truth. They were both in the same place—waiting, hoping, unsure. But maybe that was enough, for now.
As the conversation lulled, Sable took a slow sip of her drink, feeling a little lighter than before. It wasn't a solution, not yet, but at least she didn't feel so alone in it.
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Milo, feeling the weight of recent revelations and unsure of how to unwind, took an unfamiliar turn down the quieter streets of the city. The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden hues over the pavement, but it did little to soothe the turmoil inside him. After his conversation with Sable, he needed something different. Something to take his mind off the complexities that had been swirling inside him all day.
His feet carried him to a local bookstore, its cozy glow spilling out onto the sidewalk, inviting and serene. He rarely ventured into places like this, preferring the solitude of his room or the comfort of reading strategy guides. But today, after everything, he craved a change of pace—a distraction. The bell above the door jingled softly as he stepped inside, the quiet hum of the store immediately welcoming him.
The air inside was warm, filled with the scent of paper and coffee from a small café nestled in the corner. Shelves stretched high around him, packed with stories and worlds far removed from his own. For a moment, Milo hesitated, feeling a little out of place in this quiet sanctuary of words. Still, the idea of finding something new—a different perspective, perhaps—compelled him to wander through the aisles.
His fingers brushed against the spines of books, though none caught his interest at first. Until he reached the back of the store, where the shelves were filled with novels about philosophy, strategy, and history. He picked up a title that seemed promising but then paused, his attention drawn to a quiet corner of the store.
Someone was sitting there, entirely absorbed in a book. At first, Milo didn't think much of it—just another customer. But something about her presence tugged at the back of his mind. The way she sat so calmly, her dark green hair cascading over her shoulders with a few strands braided and adorned with delicate floral clips. Her entire demeanor was both serene and focused, much like her playstyle in the game.
Solace.
It took a second for the realization to fully register. Solace—ThornBlossom, the strategist of Zenith's crew. Milo had barely noticed her during the tournament, as she tended to stay in the background, rarely drawing attention to herself. But now, seeing her in this intimate, quiet moment, she stood out. The earth-toned, floral-patterned dress she wore seemed to mirror her calm but methodical presence, just like her gameplay with Zyra—controlling, calculating, and strategic.
Milo's mind raced, the brief messages from Lynx and Zenith echoing in his head. Was it possible that Solace was connected to whatever scheme they were planning? She was known for being a strategist, after all. Could she be the brain behind the operation? The thought made him instinctively more guarded, but his curiosity won out.
Without fully realizing what he was doing, Milo found himself moving toward her. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to approach—maybe it was the lingering suspicion, or perhaps it was the fact that, like him, she seemed to be looking for something in the stillness of this bookstore. A quiet escape.
"Solace?" His voice was soft, but it carried enough weight to pull her from the pages of her book.
She looked up, her deep forest-green eyes meeting his with a mixture of curiosity and surprise. For a brief moment, she didn't say anything, as if trying to place him. Then recognition flickered across her face.
"Milo, right? From the tournament," she said, her voice calm, carrying the same quiet strength that defined her presence in the game.
He nodded, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Yeah, that's me. I didn't expect to see you here."
Solace closed her book gently, marking her place with a delicate touch. "Same goes for you. I didn't know you were into books."
Milo chuckled lightly, feeling a little exposed. "I'm not, really. Just… needed a change of scenery, I guess."
She gave a small smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes but was genuine nonetheless. "I get that. Sometimes, we all need a break from the usual routine."
Milo glanced at the book in her hands, noticing the intricate floral design on the cover. It seemed fitting, almost too fitting. "What are you reading?"
"Something light," she replied, a hint of amusement in her tone. "A novel about nature and philosophy. It's more relaxing than dealing with people who don't know how to play their lanes properly."
Milo smirked at that, feeling a bit of the tension ease. "Yeah, I can imagine."
An awkward silence followed as they both stood there, neither quite knowing how to proceed. Milo's mind kept drifting back to Lynx and Zenith, the weight of their involvement lingering in the air between them. But Solace didn't seem like she was involved in anything shady—at least, not from what he could gather. She appeared… normal, in her own way. Calm. Thoughtful. Strategic.
"I'm guessing you're not here just to talk about books," she said, tilting her head slightly as if reading his mind. "You seem… preoccupied."
Milo hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "I've been hearing things. From Lynx. And Zenith. It's… complicated."
Solace's eyes darkened slightly, her expression growing more serious. "I've heard the same. They've been reaching out to people. But if you're worried about me… I'm not involved in whatever they're planning."
Milo blinked, surprised by her bluntness. "You're not?"
She shook her head. "No. I have my own path to follow. Whatever they're doing, it doesn't concern me."
Relief washed over Milo, though a part of him still remained cautious. "Good to know."
Another pause stretched between them, but this time it was less uncomfortable. Solace seemed to regard him with a quiet understanding, as if sensing the weight he carried. "You don't have to be involved either, you know," she said softly, her voice almost a whisper.
Milo looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time, he felt like he was seeing someone who understood the complexities of strategy both in and out of the game. "I know," he replied, his voice steadier than before. "But sometimes, it's hard to stay out of it."
Solace nodded, her eyes reflecting a quiet wisdom. "Just… make sure you don't lose yourself in the process."
Milo didn't know how to respond to that, so he simply nodded. The weight on his shoulders felt a little lighter, though the path ahead was still unclear. But for now, standing in the quiet bookstore, talking to someone who understood the balance between control and chaos, he felt a little less alone.
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The familiar hum of Raxian's computer filled his room, but tonight it felt more like background noise, a dull echo compared to the chaos that had been swirling in his mind for weeks now. He sat back in his chair, staring at the screen, his fingers resting idly on the keyboard. The loading screen for yet another ranked match blinked back at him, but for the first time in a long while, he didn't feel the usual rush of adrenaline.
Things had changed.
Raxian shifted in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck as tension knotted his muscles. It wasn't just the game—though that was part of it. It was everything. Sable's distant behavior, the pressure of the tournament, the gnawing feeling that something was shifting around him, just out of his control.
He hadn't spoken much to Sable recently. Not since their last awkward conversation where neither of them really knew how to navigate the strange space that had grown between them. She had always been his anchor, the one person who could challenge him, push him in ways no one else did. But lately, it felt like that challenge wasn't there. And it left him feeling unmoored, drifting through the game and his life without direction.
Then there was Fayne.
A small, bitter laugh escaped him as he thought about her. Fayne had been a surprise—a calm amidst the storm, someone who brought a sense of balance when everything else felt off-kilter. But even with her, he felt the distance. She was different—more in tune with Milo than she ever was with him. And Raxian couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he was losing something, even if he couldn't quite put his finger on what.
The champion select screen popped up, and his fingers moved instinctively, locking in his champion. But tonight, Ekko didn't feel like the safe choice he always was. Raxian hovered over the icon for a moment before shaking his head and locking in a different champion—Yasuo. He wasn't sure why, but something inside him craved change. Craved unpredictability. Maybe it was his way of proving to himself that he could adapt. That he wasn't stuck in the same patterns.
As the game loaded, Raxian found his mind wandering back to the tournament and to the strange messages from Lynx and Zenith. There was something unsettling about the way they had reached out to him and others. The offer they had hinted at wasn't just about competition. It was bigger—something that lingered at the edge of his thoughts but refused to come into focus.
His phone buzzed on the desk beside him, dragging his attention away from the screen. He glanced at it, expecting another message from Raze about some casual plans, but his eyes narrowed as he saw Milo's name instead.
Milo rarely messaged him outside of the game, and when he did, it was usually all business.
Raxian picked up the phone, his thumb swiping over the screen as he read Milo's message:
Milo: We need to talk. It's about Lynx and Zenith. Something's up, and I don't think it's just about another match.
Raxian frowned, his heart sinking a little. Milo was not the type to overreact or jump to conclusions. If he was bringing this up, it meant there was something serious going on. And Raxian knew Milo well enough to recognize when he was keeping emotions out of the equation.
This wasn't about their personal lives. This was about the game.
Raxian tapped out a quick response:
Raxian: What do you mean?
The reply came almost instantly.
Milo: Lynx has been contacting me too. And Sable. Not sure if you've noticed, but they're reaching out to top players—trying to recruit us for something. It's not just about competition. Feels off.
Raxian's grip on his phone tightened. He hadn't told Milo about Lynx's message yet, but this confirmed that something larger was in play. He leaned forward in his chair, staring at the words on the screen, his mind racing. He hadn't expected Milo to be dragged into this, and the fact that Sable was involved too made it even more complicated.
Raxian: You think Solace is part of this?
There was a pause, and Raxian could practically hear Milo weighing his words before he responded.
Milo: Maybe. I saw her recently—ran into her at a bookstore of all places. Didn't seem like a coincidence. She didn't say much, but she's too smart not to know what's going on. Keep your guard up.
Raxian's stomach twisted. Solace. He hadn't thought much of her during the tournament—she had been quiet, methodical, blending into the background while Zenith and Lynx took the spotlight. But now that Milo had mentioned her, something clicked. Solace wasn't the kind of player to sit idle while others made moves. If she was involved, then she could very well be the mastermind behind whatever Lynx and Zenith were planning.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he thought about how to respond. A part of him wanted to confront Zenith directly, since he obviously was the leader of their group, demand to know what he was up to, but another part of him knew that wasn't the way to handle this. Milo had always been better at strategy, at thinking things through before acting. And if he was telling Raxian to be cautious, then there was more at stake here than just a rivalry.
Raxian: So what do we do?
Milo: We need more information. Let's not make any moves until we know exactly what they're planning. I'll keep an eye on Solace, see if I can find out more. In the meantime, stay sharp. If they're trying to recruit us, they're playing a long game.
Raxian sighed, running a hand through his hair as the weight of the situation settled over him. Milo was right—this wasn't something they could rush into. Whatever Lynx and Zenith were planning, it was bigger than just a few messages or tournament matches.
The game on his screen had already begun, but Raxian couldn't bring himself to care. His mind was too caught up in the pieces of the puzzle he hadn't even realized he was part of.
Raxian: Got it. Keep me posted.
He set his phone down, his eyes drifting back to the game in front of him. But now, even the usual comfort of the match felt distant. The real game was happening behind the scenes, and Raxian had a feeling that whatever came next would be more than he had bargained for.
For the first time in a long while, the game felt like a distraction. And Raxian knew that if he wasn't careful, it could cost him more than just a match.