He's spent years climbing alone. One loss shouldn't matter—but this one won't leave his head.
The dryer hummed like soft static behind her, a steady pulse that filled the silence.
Lillian folded another warm shirt into the basket, smoothing the fabric flat with practiced care. Evening light stretched across the living room floor, golden against the cream rugs and polished wood.
Her reflection ghosted faintly in the window — warm brown hair falling in soft waves around her face, the lower strands kissed with a quiet blue. Her amber eyes caught the light like glass.
She wore a simple knit cardigan over a pale shirt, her usual softness, curated as carefully as the apartment around her.
The apartment always looked like a magazine photo — warm, curated, expensive in a way that never quite felt real.
Her husband had chosen it.Or rather, paid for it.
Something with finance, or networks, or numbers that lived in other people's clouds.Whatever it was, it kept him far away.
So most days, it was just her.And her son.
Sort of.
Down the hallway, the muffled patter of keys and faint electronic music thumped like a distant heartbeat.
Raxian had been in there all day again.Sometimes she caught a glimpse when he slipped past for snacks — hoodie, tired eyes, headphones glowing around his neck like a collar.
Then the door would shut again, and the silence would swallow the house whole.
It was always the same game.
It had started as League of Legends, years ago — but no one called it that anymore. Now, it was just EGO.A whole culture, with stadiums, sponsors, and kids who rose and fell like pop stars.
She had gone to a few of his school competitions, sitting in the back with the other parents as the screens flashed and the kids shouted over each other in glowing headsets.
Everyone seemed to understand what was happening except her.
It had looked like chaos.But he had smiled.
She hadn't seen him smile as much at anything else.
Her chest ached, just faintly — a small, secret ache she smoothed away like a wrinkle in the laundry.She pressed her palm gently to the warm fabric, almost smiling too.
For a moment, the house was still.
Then — a sharp crash from his room.Keys rattling like gunfire, a crackled shout.
Her smile vanished.She waited for footsteps.
None came.
Only silence.
And then, again, the tapping — faster now, fevered, like he was trying to fight the whole world from behind that door.
---
The glow from his monitor carved hard light into the dark.Raxian sat forward, shoulders taut, lips pressed thin as his fingers rattled the keys in frantic rhythm. His headset clamped tight over messy black hair streaked with platinum, muting the world beyond his screen. Amber eyes burned in the reflection — sharp, relentless, alive in a way the rest of him rarely was.
Late game. Elder was up. One fight to decide everything.
He'd been behind from the start.Normally, midlane was his kingdom — Ekko was his blade, his rhythm, his way of bending games to his tempo. But this Yasuo…
By minute five, he'd known.The way Yasuo threaded through minions like smoke, never wasting a dash, zoning him under tower without drawing aggro. He'd brought Teleport — which Raxian had taken as weakness when he locked Ignite for lane pressure. Instead, it only made him faster, freer. He'd crash a wave, vanish off the map, and appear bot before Raxian could even ping.
Every roam was perfect.Every dive, clean.Not greedy. Not flashy.Just… inevitable.
And now Elder burned in the pit, its health bar melting.Raxian's Ekko darted in from fog of war, catching Jinx out of position — a clean snap, Phase Dive, passive proc — and she was gone before she could flash.
Hope flared hot in his chest.They could win this.
Then Janna appeared.
A perfect tornado ripped through the river bush — the one where his whole team had been waiting to jump her. They staggered as the whirlwind lifted them, helpless, and Yasuo blinked from the fog like a blade through cloth.
Four-man Last Breath.
Steel exploded through the pit. Four health bars erased in two seconds.Quadra kill.
Raxian rewound, desperate, but they collapsed on him before he touched the ground.
ACE.ELDER SECURED.
All chat flared with blame.
Lucian (8/12/14):
mid diff lol
Nami (3/14/30):
should've roamed maybe??
Gwen (15/13/15):
could've at least pushed towers while yas was roaming
rep Ekko
Yi (20/17/10):
every time I invade you're shoved in and can't follow
so useless
Ekko (17/9/15):
MAYBE CHECK FOR WARDS BEFORE STACKING IN A BUSH!!
His hands hovered over the keys, trembling. His jaw locked, fury hot in his chest. But they weren't listening. They never did.
The enemy Nexus shattered in a blossom of blue shards. DEFEAT seared across the screen like a wound.
Raxian ripped off his headset and slammed his fists into the desk. The sound cracked through the room, loud and sharp, then vanished into the hum of the city outside. The headset spun once on its edge before clattering still.
He slumped back in his chair, hoodie hanging loose off one shoulder, breath jagged, heart hammering like the match was still going. His jaw was locked, hands trembling faintly with leftover adrenaline.
That Yasuo had erased his shot at Diamond.His perfect, polished Ekko hadn't even made a dent.
And somehow, they all still blamed him.
His phone buzzed on the desk.He grabbed it without thinking.
Raze:
that tornado into last breath was brutalshame — thought you had it after deleting the jinx
Raxian exhaled sharply through his nose, thumbs flying.
Raxian:
SHUT UP!!
don't you have anything better to do?!?!
The dots danced for a moment.
Raze:
and miss your big promo game?
no chance
Rax's brows knit, heat still buzzing under his skin.
Raxian:
there's no way he's emerald
smurf yas 100%
who even plays that clean here
Raze:
good players
looked clean from here
Rax groaned, dragging a hand down his face.Raze was six years older, calm as stone, and somehow always exactly where he didn't want him to be.
Raze:
what was his tag
Raxian's gaze slid back to the match history.The name glowed like a taunt: AkarisLite.
Raxian:
why
Raze:
add him
watch replays
learn something
Raxian:
you're insane
i'm not adding the guy who ruined my promos
Raze:
you wanna stay stuck
or you wanna get better
Rax stared at the screen. His pride twisted tight in his chest.This was stupid. Absolutely, irredeemably stupid.
Raxian:
you're the worst
Raze:
and still higher elo
Rax let his head thunk back against the chair.Raze always did this — slipped past his fire without getting burned.It annoyed the hell out of him.And… sometimes kept him alive.
His fingers were already moving.
Friend Request → AkarisLite.
The chat opened faster than expected.Barely a minute.
Raxian blinked at the green dot beside the name.
AkarisLite: Online.
Before he could second-guess himself, a message popped up.
AkarisLite:
hey.
good match
your ekko's solid.
unlucky ending tho
Rax stared at the words.No gloating. No "mid diff lol." No laughing emojis.
Just calm. Casual.Like the match hadn't even scratched him.
TimeWrapped:
you stomped me
AkarisLite:
i didn't stomp you
i stomped your squad hiding in a bush trying to delete my support
you played it fine — i just got tempo early
Rax frowned, leaning closer.The words were simple, almost clinical… but warm somehow. Detached. Unbothered.
Like this was just another rhythm to him — no ego, no high, no crash.
TimeWrapped:
are you…
a smurf?
AkarisLite:
does it matter?
That made something twist in Rax's chest. People didn't talk like this after ranked. They didn't talk at all unless it was to gloat or flame.
And yet here he was —calm, cool, like he'd just walked through Rax's Diamond promos without even breaking stride.
AkarisLite:
if you want a rematch sometime
lose the hard edge
you've got rhythm
just not control yet
let the game breathe
Raxian stared at the text, unsure if he wanted to punch something or laugh. Let the game breathe. Who even talks like that?
The room felt suddenly too quiet.
His hands hovered over the keyboard, frozen.It was such a strange thing to say — airy, almost poetic — and somehow it lodged under his skin.
No control yet.
The words scraped at him.Sure, he couldn't control his team — they'd thrown the whole fight — but what was that supposed to mean? That he didn't have control of Ekko? Not just a champion, but his role model, his idol — the True Damage star he'd dreamed of meeting since he was a kid.
His Ekko wasn't sloppy. He knew that.
He leaned back, staring at the glow of their words in the dark.His heart was still beating fast… but not from anger anymore.
Who was this person? Who plays like a machine and talks like they're floating?
Rax clenched his jaw and shut the chat window, but the words stayed —burning against the inside of his skull like afterimages.
Whoever this AkarisLite was… they were wrong.
And he was going to prove it.