Ethan lay sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The faint glow of his computer screen illuminated the room, the Rebirth Online logo still lingering in his mind. He replayed the events of the night: the exhilarating combat, the crowd's cheers, the tension of being cornered by opportunistic players.
It had been years since he felt like this—excited, challenged, alive.
His hands, now steady, flexed against the covers. There was something special about Rebirth Online, something that reignited the spark he thought he'd lost forever. The game wasn't just a grind of rankings or a cycle of fame and sponsorships; it felt unpredictable and raw. Every step into its world carried a sense of discovery.
I had fun, Ethan thought, the realization hitting him harder than expected.
For so long, gaming had become mechanical—a means to an end. His victories were expected, his losses scrutinized. Even in his downtime, his management team had filtered his access to forums, fan commentary, and streams. They said it was to protect him from the mental strain, but it left him feeling disconnected from the people he was playing for.
Tonight was different. He wasn't Phoenix, the celebrity gamer. He was just Ethan—a newbie figuring out a game, making mistakes, and succeeding on his own terms.
But even as excitement buzzed in his chest, a shadow of guilt crept in. He'd left behind the world of competitive gaming for a reason: to escape the pressure, the fame, the endless scrutiny. Yet, here he was, drawn back in. And worse, he hadn't told anyone—his family, his old teammates, his former manager.
Am I really ready to dive back in?
Ethan sighed, closing his eyes. The questions could wait. For now, he needed sleep. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges.
______
The next morning, Ethan trudged into school, his bag slung lazily over one shoulder. The halls were bustling with students chatting and rushing to their classes. He moved through the crowd like a ghost, invisible and unnoticed as usual.
But something caught his attention—a group of students clustered near the lockers, their voices animated.
"Did you hear about that rookie in Rebirth Online last night?" one of them said, their voice brimming with excitement.
"Yeah! He called himself Phoenix! Can you believe the nerve?"
Ethan froze mid-step, his pulse quickening.
"Shameless, right?" another said. "But he's crazy good at Blitz Tactics. Took down a bunch of people in a row, even some well-known casuals. I heard he won a ton of gold, too."
"Still, pretending to be the Phoenix? Total disrespect. No way it's actually him."
Ethan's throat felt dry. It was surreal, hearing people talk about him like this. He'd heard rumors about himself before, back when he was a pro. But his management team had always controlled how much he could see, filtering out toxic comments and anything that might hurt his focus.
Now, there was no filter, no barrier between him and the raw opinions of the gaming community. He felt… liberated.
But there was also a pang of guilt. By using his old alias, he had unintentionally stirred the pot. Phoenix wasn't just a name to him; it was a legacy, one he had walked away from. Hearing these students criticize the rookie version of himself for tarnishing that name stung in a way he hadn't expected.
Ethan shook his head, deciding not to intervene. It wasn't like he could just walk up to them and say, Actually, that was me.
As Ethan stood there, caught in his thoughts about his classmates' conversation, a sharp voice cut through the chatter.
"Enough gossip," the voice said, firm yet melodic. "Get back to class."
The group of students scattered like startled birds, their expressions shifting from smug to sheepish. Standing behind them was Rena Anderson, the school's resident queen bee. With her sleek black hair, flawless complexion, and poised demeanor, Rena commanded attention wherever she went.
"Sorry, Rena!" one of them stammered, gathering their things.
"We were just talking about something important," another said, attempting to defend themselves.
"Important enough to make you late to class?" Rena asked, raising an eyebrow.
That shut them up. They tripped over their words before mumbling apologies and hurrying off.
Ethan watched from the sidelines, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It was almost funny how quickly his classmates turned docile in her presence. They didn't even try to argue.
Once the hallway cleared, Rena lingered for a moment, her gaze distant. Then, as if remembering something, she muttered to herself, her tone shifting to irritation.
"Some shameless rookie, pretending to be Phoenix… Unbelievable."
Ethan stiffened.
Rena didn't notice him standing nearby as she continued venting under her breath. "Do they think they can just throw around that name without consequences? Phoenix deserves better than this."
Ethan's hands clenched into fists at his sides. Her words, though not directed at him, struck a nerve. The way she spoke of Phoenix, as though he were an untouchable figure, made him feel like a stranger in his own story.
She turned on her heel and walked away, her footsteps echoing down the now-empty hallway.
Ethan let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the lockers.
She has no idea it's me.
Rena's frustration mirrored the sentiments of the crowd from last night. They saw Phoenix as some kind of legend, a perfect figure who inspired awe and respect. But Ethan knew the truth. He wasn't that different from who he was back then. He had the same habits, the same skills, the same drive.
So why did it feel like he was two different people?
He thought about Rena's words: "Phoenix deserves better." It wasn't the first time he'd heard something like that. When he was still competing, his management team had often talked about protecting his image—keeping him untouchable, above criticism. They had controlled how he interacted with the world, deciding what he could see, say, and do.
Now, without that barrier, he was free. But freedom came with its own complications. The world didn't see Ethan. They saw Phoenix—the legend, the idol, the impossible standard.
Ethan sighed, pushing off the locker. He didn't blame Rena or the others for their perceptions. They were reacting to an idea, a version of him that had been carefully curated and polished.
For now, he would let them believe what they wanted. He wasn't ready to reveal the truth, and maybe it was better this way. If they didn't know, he could continue playing the game on his own terms—no expectations, no pressure.
But as he headed to class, one thought lingered in his mind.
How different was I really?
Ethan shuffled into his classroom, sliding into his usual seat at the back corner. The noise of his classmates chatting, laughing, and swapping stories faded into the background as he stared out the window.
The teacher's voice carried on about equations or literary analysis—he wasn't sure which. The words were nothing more than a dull buzz in his ears. His mind was elsewhere, tethered to the world of Rebirth Online.
I can't stop thinking about it.
The vibrant landscapes, the feeling of the game's artificial breeze against his skin, the weight of a virtual blade in his hand. It had been so real, so alive. And for the first time in years, it hadn't been about rankings or sponsorships. It was just him and the game.
But now, sitting in this dimly lit classroom, the world felt muted. The walls seemed to close in on him, the ticking clock dragging the minutes into hours. He glanced up at the board but couldn't bring himself to care about the notes scrawled across it.
This place… it's suffocating.
He tried to focus, but every few minutes, his mind wandered back to the game. He thought about the people he'd met—those who had doubted him and the ones who had cheered him on. A small smile tugged at his lips when he remembered their shock during the mini-game.
"Ethan," the teacher called, snapping him out of his daydream.
He straightened, feeling the weight of the room's attention shift toward him.
"Pay attention," the teacher said firmly, before returning to the lesson.
He nodded, his cheeks burning as a few students snickered.
Lunch didn't help. Neither did the other classes. Every moment felt like a slow crawl toward freedom. He fiddled with his pencil, tapped his foot against the floor, and doodled nonsense in the margins of his notebook.
When the final bell rang, it was like a dam breaking.
Ethan was out of his seat before the echo of the bell faded, ignoring the chatter around him as he headed straight for the school gates.
______
By the time he got home, Ethan had already planned his evening. Dropping his bag unceremoniously on the floor, he grabbed a quick snack and headed straight to his room.
The VR headset sat on his desk, practically calling to him. He powered it on, his heart pounding with anticipation as the familiar interface booted up. With a quick command, he logged back into Rebirth Online.
The vibrant world of the game enveloped him, and for a moment, all the stress of the day melted away. The sounds of birds chirping, the faint rustle of trees, and the bustling chatter of NPCs greeted him.
But before he could take a step, a flood of notifications bombarded him. His inbox was overflowing with messages and DMs.
"Who is this rookie?"
"You're good, but don't get cocky!"
"Phoenix wannabe, huh? Let's see if you're as good as the real deal."
Ethan scrolled through the messages, his eyes scanning the mix of compliments, taunts, and challenges. Most of it was noise, but one notification caught his eye.
A private message.
Sender: EPGames.
Subject: Account Termination Notice.
His stomach dropped as he opened it.
The message was brief but coldly formal:
"Dear Player,
Your account, under the username 'Ash,' has been flagged and terminated due to statements and actions falsely associating yourself with our legendary player, Phoenix. This behavior is a violation of our community standards. Effective immediately, your access to Rebirth Online is revoked.
Thank you for understanding.
The EPGames Team"
Ethan barely had time to process the words before the world around him glitched and froze. He was unceremoniously kicked out, the VR interface returning to a black screen with a notification: Access Denied.
He ripped the headset off, tossing it onto his desk as anger bubbled in his chest.
What the hell just happened?
He grabbed his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the number he was looking for: Alex Harper, his former manager.
"Ethan?" Alex's voice was cheerful, almost too much so. "Long time, no talk! I was starting to think you'd disappeared off the face of the earth."
Ethan didn't bother with pleasantries. "Alex, what's going on with EPGames? Why did they block my account?"
Alex chuckled, clearly misunderstanding the urgency in Ethan's voice. "Oh, this is great news. You're coming back, aren't you? Finally decided to leave retirement behind? Look, if you're ready to rejoin the team, I can start scheduling practice sessions and—"
"Alex," Ethan interrupted, his voice sharp. "I'm not coming back. I called because EPGames just terminated my account for supposedly using Phoenix's name."
There was a pause on the other end. "Wait, what?"
"They banned me," Ethan said, his frustration seeping into his tone. "They said I was impersonating Phoenix."
"Ah," Alex said slowly. "That… might be my fault."
Ethan's eyebrows shot up. "Your fault? Care to explain?"
Alex sighed, and Ethan could practically hear him running a hand through his hair. "Look, EPGames has been cracking down on players who use your name. Ever since you retired, there's been a surge in fake accounts—wannabes trying to ride on your legacy. We've been working with the devs to ban anyone who disrespects your reputation."
Ethan's grip on his phone tightened. "So, you're telling me I got banned because you flagged my account?"
"Well, not directly," Alex said, sounding defensive. "But yeah, I did report a player last night who was calling himself Phoenix and bragging about soloing a dungeon."
Ethan's heart sank. "And what was the name of that player?"
"Ash," Alex admitted. "But don't worry about it. We dealt with him."
Ethan closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alex, Ash was me."
The line went silent for a moment.
"What?" Alex finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I created a rookie account last night to check out Rebirth Online," Ethan explained. "I didn't think using my old alias would cause this much trouble."
Alex groaned, clearly piecing everything together. "You mean to tell me… you're the one who soloed that dungeon?"
"Yes."
"And dominated in Blitz Tactics?"
"Yes."
"And now your account is banned because I flagged it?"
"Yes!"
"Damn," Alex muttered. "Okay, this is bad. Look, I'll fix it. I'll call EPGames and tell them what happened. They can reinstate your account. But, uh, there's a catch."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "What kind of catch?"
Alex hesitated. "They'll restore the account, but since it's tied to Phoenix's name, they'll have to wipe it clean. Any progress you made as Ash will be gone."
Ethan sighed, slumping back in his chair. "Fine. I didn't make much progress anyway. Just… get it done."
"I will," Alex promised. "And, Ethan?"
"What?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't know. Honestly, I thought you were still done with all this."
Ethan's expression softened, though his voice remained firm. "Just fix it, Alex. I'll deal with the rest."
As Ethan hung up, he leaned back in his chair, staring at the dark screen of his VR headset.
Rebirth Online had been a breath of fresh air, but now it felt like a harsh reminder of the world he'd left behind. The game might have been new, but the shadows of his past were already creeping in.
Still, part of him felt relieved. He'd get his account back, and this time, he'd be more careful.
If I'm going to make a name for myself again, I'll do it on my own terms.
With that thought in mind, Ethan turned his attention to the rest of the night, wondering what awaited him in his next venture into the game.