The countdown timer ticked away.
3... 2... 1... FIGHT.
Ethan "Phoenix" Carter's fingers rested lightly on the controller. He didn't even need to focus anymore; his body moved as if the game had become an extension of his mind. The screen in front of him came alive with the dramatic clash of two avatars: his sleek, flame-themed warrior against RogueKing's imposing, heavily armored knight.
Ethan already knew how this was going to play out.
He had studied RogueKing's gameplay in the days leading up to the match, watching replays of his tactics, noticing how he leaned heavily on his character's shield mechanics and aggressive burst damage. It was a solid strategy—against anyone else. But Ethan had broken down those moves in his head a dozen times already. It would take him about four minutes to completely dismantle the so-called "rising star."
The first clash came quickly. RogueKing lunged forward, shield raised, his weapon glowing with an ultimate skill charge. Ethan sidestepped, spinning out of the way with a fluidity that left his opponent flailing. The crowd watching the livestream roared in excitement, but Ethan barely registered the sound. His focus was clinical, detached.
A parry here, a dodge there. RogueKing's attacks became more frantic, each swing growing sloppier as Ethan whittled down his health with pinpoint counterattacks. Ethan could almost hear the desperation through the digital silence—RogueKing was trying to keep up, but the gap between them was a chasm too wide to cross.
Combo—Counter—Execute.
The finishing move came with a burst of golden light. RogueKing's avatar collapsed to the ground as the words "VICTORY" exploded across the screen. A fanfare of digital trumpets echoed through Ethan's headset.
The announcer's voice boomed over the livestream: "Unbelievable! Phoenix wins again! That makes ten consecutive championship titles for the living legend!"
Ethan leaned back in his chair, dropping his controller onto the desk. The chat feed on his second monitor scrolled by at lightning speed:
"GOAT! Phoenix is unstoppable!"
"RogueKing got destroyed lol."
"This guy's unbeatable. Is there even a point anymore?"
______
Ethan removed his headset, running a hand through his messy black hair. The room around him was quiet—too quiet, compared to the roaring crowds and fireworks of the virtual arena. He glanced at the shelf across from his desk, lined with trophies, medals, and plaques commemorating his victories. Each one sparkled under the dim light, a testament to years of dominance in the competitive gaming world.
But looking at them didn't fill him with pride anymore. If anything, they felt like weights pulling him down.
"Another flawless performance, Ethan." Alex's voice came from the video call on his monitor. His manager's face beamed with excitement. "The sponsors are ecstatic. The audience numbers broke records again. You're killing it, man."
"Thanks," Ethan said, his voice flat.
Alex hesitated, his enthusiasm faltering. "You... don't sound thrilled. You good?"
Ethan stared at the screen for a moment before replying. "I'm fine. Just... tired."
Alex frowned but didn't press further. "Okay. Take a break, then. You deserve it."
Ethan ended the call and sat in silence. Tired. That was the easiest excuse, wasn't it? But it wasn't the truth. The truth was harder to put into words. He wasn't tired. He was... bored.
When he had started gaming as a kid, every match felt like an adventure. Each win had been hard-fought, each loss a lesson. But now, after years of being at the top, everything felt hollow. The thrill was gone, replaced by an endless grind of proving himself over and over again to an audience that would cheer just as loudly for his downfall.
What's the point anymore? he thought, leaning back in his chair.
Not wanting to think much about it, he went to sleep and wash off the blow of the day.
The sunlight streaming through Ethan's window was blinding as he pulled himself out of his chair the next morning. He squinted at the clock on his desk: 7:48 AM.
"Great," he muttered, shoving on his jacket and grabbing his backpack. He barely had time to grab his phone and wallet before bolting out the door, skipping breakfast entirely.
By the time he reached the school gates, the warning bell had already rung. Students were scattered across the courtyard, chatting and laughing in groups. Ethan weaved through them, keeping his head down. The last thing he wanted was attention.
He slipped into his classroom just as the final bell rang. His teacher, Mr. Grayson, glanced up from his desk, raising an eyebrow.
"Cutting it close, Mr. Carter," Grayson said, marking something on his clipboard.
"Sorry," Ethan mumbled, sliding into his seat at the back of the room.
"You don't sound too sorry to me. That's detention for you."
With those words spoke, Ethan's fate had been decided for the day.
The rest of the class barely noticed him. Ethan had always been something of a ghost at school. While other kids joined sports teams or hung out in the cafeteria after class, he had spent his time at home, grinding in games and streaming to an audience of millions. In the virtual world, he was a celebrity. In the real world, he was invisible.
And he liked it that way. Or at least, he used to.
Detention was uneventful, as always. Ethan sat at a desk near the window, doodling absentmindedly in the corner of his notebook. The room was mostly empty, save for a couple of other students who had also been late that morning.
Outside in the hallway, he could hear snippets of conversation as students passed by. Most of it was the usual chatter, but one phrase caught his attention:
"Have you tried it yet? Rebirth Online?"
Ethan perked up, listening more closely.
"It's insane," someone said. "The graphics, the mechanics—it's like you're really inside the game. Totally next level."
"Yeah, but it's brutal," another voice replied. "Starting as a no-stat is rough. And good luck surviving without a guild."
Ethan frowned, leaning back in his chair. Rebirth Online. He had heard about it before—an MMO that claimed to be the most immersive gaming experience ever created. It had been hyped for months in the gaming community, but Ethan hadn't paid much attention. He'd assumed it was just another fad.
But now...
That night, curiosity got the better of him. So naturally, he had to give into it and load the game he had ignored in favor of cultivating his pro-career
Ethan downloaded Rebirth Online as soon as he got home. The installation process was surprisingly quick, considering the size of the game. He unboxed the sleek VR headset that came with it—a neural-feedback device designed to make the virtual world feel as real as the physical one.
He adjusted the straps and lay back on his bed, the device snug against his temples.
"Log in," he said.
The world dissolved into darkness, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, a voice echoed in his mind:
"Welcome to Rebirth Online. Your journey begins now."
The darkness gave way to a kaleidoscope of colors, and Ethan found himself standing in a blank white space. His real-world body was gone, replaced by a placeholder avatar. A glowing menu floated in front of him, prompting him to customize his character.
Ethan hesitated for a moment. He could have recreated his old persona—Phoenix, the legend. But something held him back.
"Let's keep it simple," he muttered, choosing the default settings. His avatar was plain and unremarkable, with generic features and standard equipment. His stats were all set to zero.
"Character creation complete. Welcome, Player One."
The whiteness faded, replaced by a sprawling world. Ethan blinked, momentarily stunned by the sheer realism. The wind ruffled his avatar's hair, the sun cast warm light across the landscape, and the distant sound of a bustling marketplace reached his ears.
He took a tentative step forward. Then another. The sensation was uncanny—it didn't feel like he was controlling an avatar; it felt like he was actually there.
"This... is incredible," he murmured.
Ethan wandered through the beginner's area, taking in the sights. NPCs and players mingled in the streets, some chatting, others bartering for gear. The atmosphere was alive with energy, unlike anything he'd experienced in other games.
As he passed a group of players, he overheard a familiar name.
"Did you hear? Phoenix retired today."
Ethan stopped in his tracks.
"Yeah," another player replied. "The guy was a legend. It's weird to think he's done, huh?"
Ethan hesitated for a moment before approaching them.
"You're talking about Phoenix?" he asked.
The players—a mage and a swordsman—nodded.
"Yeah, man," the mage said. "Best player in the world. Kind of sucks he's done, though."
Ethan smiled faintly. "Actually... I am Phoenix."
The players stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter.
"Yeah, right," the swordsman said. "If you're Phoenix, I'm the king of Rebirth Online."
The mage snickered. "Good one, though. You almost had us."
As they walked away, Ethan stood there, feeling a strange mix of irritation and amusement. For the first time in years, no one believed he was the best.
And for some reason, that made him grin.
"Let's see what this world has to offer," he muttered, stepping forward into the unknown.
Ethan watched the two players walk away, their laughter fading into the ambient noise of the bustling market square. He stood there for a moment, staring at their retreating figures.
They didn't believe me.
The realization hit him harder than he expected. Back in his glory days, all he had to do was log into a game, and his name alone commanded respect. People would line up for a chance to play with or against him, and fan forums were littered with guides dissecting his every move. Here, though, he was just another nameless, faceless player.
He clenched his fists, feeling a flicker of irritation. Fine. If they won't believe me, I'll make them.
Determined, Ethan jogged after them. The mage and swordsman were still chatting, standing near a stall selling basic potions and gear.
"Wait," Ethan said, catching up.
The mage glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, it's you again. Look, man, we're not interested in your cosplay act. Go bother someone else."
"I'm not pretending," Ethan insisted. "I really am Phoenix. I just retired today. You must've seen the announcement."
The swordsman snorted. "Yeah, sure. And I'm the creator of this game. Look, buddy, just because you played a few matches doesn't mean you get to call yourself a legend."
Ethan frowned. "Then what do I need to do to prove it?"
The mage crossed his arms, looking Ethan up and down with a skeptical smirk. "You want us to believe you're the Phoenix? The guy who soloed entire guilds and pulled off impossible raids? Sure, we'll believe you… if you can actually do something impressive."
"Like what?" Ethan asked.
The mage leaned forward, grinning. "There's a dungeon on the outskirts of this area—Shadowfang Hollow. It's meant for parties of level ten players. You, however, are…" He glanced at Ethan's character panel, visible to nearby players. "…level one, with zero stats and no gear."
Ethan looked at his own panel. It was embarrassingly bare. Just the default equipment: a wooden sword, a tattered tunic, and no skills unlocked. His health bar was laughably short.
"And you want me to solo it?" he asked.
"Exactly," the swordsman said, chuckling. "If you're really Phoenix, that should be no problem for you, right?"
The mage smirked. "Of course, if you're too scared, you can just admit you're not him and save yourself the embarrassment."
Ethan narrowed his eyes. A small part of him knew this was a trap, a way to humiliate him in front of others. But another part—the part that had once thrived on challenges—felt a spark of excitement. It had been too long since something seemed impossible.
"Fine," Ethan said, his voice steady. "I'll do it."
Both players blinked, clearly not expecting him to accept so easily.
"Wait, seriously?" the swordsman asked. "You're going to try?"
Ethan smirked. "Why not? If it gets you to believe me, I'll clear that dungeon. Solo."
Shadowfang Hollow loomed on the edge of the beginner's area, its entrance a jagged cave mouth shrouded in darkness. A faint mist curled out from within, and eerie growls echoed from the depths. A warning sign outside the entrance read:
DUNGEON: SHADOWFANG HOLLOW
Recommended Level: 10+
Parties of 3-5 players advised.
Ethan stood at the threshold, his wooden sword hanging limply at his side. Behind him, the mage and swordsman had followed, joined by a few other curious players who had heard about the challenge.
"This is going to be hilarious," someone muttered.
"No way he makes it past the first room," another said.
Ethan ignored them. His focus was on the task ahead. He stepped into the dungeon, and the world outside faded away. The interior was dimly lit, the walls slick with moisture. The air smelled faintly of decay, and the sound of dripping water echoed in the cavern.
Warning: Dungeon scaling active. Enemy levels adjusted to Level 10 minimum.
His health bar glowed faintly in the corner of his vision, pitifully small compared to the hulking creatures that awaited him inside.
The first chamber of the dungeon was crawling with Shadow Wolves—sleek, black-furred beasts with glowing red eyes and razor-sharp teeth. Ethan counted five of them, prowling near the center of the room.
He tightened his grip on his wooden sword. The weapon felt flimsy, like it would snap in half the moment he tried to use it. He didn't even have a shield.
All right. Think.
Charging in headfirst would be suicide. The wolves were fast, and even a single bite would probably take off half his health. He needed a strategy.
He glanced around the room, noticing the uneven terrain. There were clusters of stalagmites near the edges of the chamber and a raised platform in one corner.
Perfect.
Ethan darted forward, drawing the attention of the wolves. They snarled and gave chase, their claws skittering against the stone floor. He sprinted toward the stalagmites, weaving between them as the wolves lunged after him. One wolf slammed into a rock formation, stunning itself temporarily. Another got caught trying to squeeze through a narrow gap.
Ethan climbed onto the raised platform, positioning himself above the remaining wolves. From this vantage point, he could predict their movements more easily. As the first wolf leaped at him, he swung his sword in a precise arc, striking its exposed throat. The blow was weak, but it was enough to kill the low-level creature.
"Two down," he muttered, glancing at the remaining three.
The fight continued, Ethan relying on hit-and-run tactics to wear down the wolves. By the time the last one fell, his health bar was dangerously low, and his hands were shaking.
When Ethan emerged from the dungeon's first chamber, bruised but victorious, the small crowd outside was stunned into silence. The mage and swordsman stared at him, their jaws practically on the floor.
"You… actually did it," the mage said.
"Not bad for a no-stat player," Ethan replied, smirking despite his exhaustion.
"Okay," the swordsman admitted reluctantly. "Maybe you're not just some random wannabe. But the first room's the easy part. The real boss is deeper in. Let's see if you can handle that."
Ethan's grin widened. For the first time in ages, he felt alive.
"Don't worry," he said. "I'm just getting started."