NS's mansion had many rooms that most people would never see.
One of them was the esports room.
It sat on the west wing of the house, isolated from the rest of the living space by soundproof walls and heavy doors. The room had been designed by professionals, commissioned by NS's father as a gift when NS first showed interest in competitive gaming. The lighting was adjustable, soft white strips along the ceiling and faint blue illumination beneath each desk. Five high-end gaming setups lined the wall in a perfect arc, each chair molded for long sessions, each monitor mounted at the exact height for comfort and focus.
Posters from international esports tournaments hung framed and evenly spaced. A glass cabinet displayed old peripherals, signed mousepads, worn controllers, and a small plaque that read:
Focus is a habit.
The boys had been sitting there for hours.
XH leaned forward in his chair, fingers steady on the keyboard, eyes locked on the screen. His posture was relaxed but intent, the kind that only came when his mind slipped fully into the game. The exhaustion in his body faded whenever the match loaded. Strategy replaced fatigue.
NS sat at the center station, headset on, voice calm but sharp. "Smoke mid. Don't show."
JP cracked his knuckles loudly. "I'm ready."
TZ adjusted his mouse sensitivity for the third time. "I swear it changed."
HS said nothing, already moving his hero into position.
Andrew stood behind them, arms crossed, watching the minimap like a coach instead of a spectator.
They were not messing around tonight.
They had queued as a full five-man ranked team. No solo chaos. No distractions. Clean drafts. Clean calls. Everyone on roles they trusted.
The first match ended in a clean win.
The second was harder, but they adapted.
By the third game, adrenaline had replaced every thought of sleep.
"Queue again," JP said.
NS hesitated for half a second. Then nodded. "One more."
The matchmaking timer ticked longer than usual.
XH frowned. "Why is it taking so long?"
Andrew checked the screen. "High MMR pool this hour."
TZ laughed. "Who's even awake right now?"
The match found.
The loading screen appeared.
Team names faded in.
XH froze.
"Wait," he said.
JP squinted. "No way."
NS leaned closer to his monitor. "You've got to be kidding me."
The opposing team name appeared clearly.
"Bad Dragons."
The room erupted instantly.
"You're joking," TZ said.
JP laughed loud and sharp. "These guys again?"
HS swallowed. "This late?"
Andrew's expression tightened. "They're five-man too."
Bad Dragons were an old name. A rivalry from months back. Loud players. Aggressive drafts. Endless trash talk. They had crossed paths before in tournaments and scrims, wins traded back and forth.
But tonight was different.
Tonight, none of them were locked in.
JP typed immediately.
JP: Didn't expect to see you crawling this late.
A response came instantly.
BadDragons: Still chasing wins you can't hold?
TZ smirked. "They remember us."
NS exhaled. "Focus. Play it straight."
But they didn't.
Their draft was messy. Comfort heroes were banned. Someone missed a call. Someone rotated late.
Within ten minutes, the scoreboard looked ugly.
Bad Dragons played like predators. Clean ganks. Perfect vision. Relentless pressure.
JP slammed his desk lightly. "What the hell are they on tonight?"
XH knew the answer.
They were prepared.
And he was not.
His hands felt slower. His reactions half a second late. His mind wandered between lanes, between thoughts.
By the twenty-minute mark, the game was already slipping.
Bad Dragons typed again.
BadDragons: Thought you guys were better.
TZ muttered, "Mute them."
The throne fell shortly after.
Defeat.
No dramatic final fight. No heroic hold. Just clean execution from the other side.
The room went quiet.
JP leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "That was embarrassing."
NS removed his headset slowly. "We weren't ready."
Andrew nodded. "They were."
XH rubbed his eyes. "That's on us."
HS checked the time.
"Guys," he said softly.
No one looked at him.
"It's six forty."
The silence this time felt heavier.
XH's chest tightened. "Queen Selection."
TZ groaned and dropped his head back against the chair. "You're kidding."
JP sat up straight. "No. No, no."
NS stood immediately. "We leave now."
They did not argue.
Showers were quick and inefficient. Clothes were chosen without thought. Hair dried halfway. Jackets grabbed.
JP slipped into the study without saying anything.
Inside, a glass cabinet stood against the wall. NS's father's private collection. Bottles arranged by year, region, rarity.
JP hesitated for exactly one second.
Then took a small, dark bottle.
Triple distilled. Aged.
He slid it into his jacket.
When they regrouped near the entrance, TZ smelled it instantly.
"That better not be what I think it is."
JP smiled. "Liquid confidence."
NS stared at him. "That belongs to my father."
JP shrugged. "He won't miss one."
NS sighed. "You're impossible."
The family driver was already waiting outside.
A black luxury van, engine running.
They piled in, exhausted, restless, quiet.
The driver glanced back. "Nevermore Palace?"
"Yes," NS replied. "And please don't stop."
The city was awake now. Morning traffic. Sunlight reflecting off buildings. People starting their days like nothing important was happening.
Inside the van, no one spoke for a while.
JP finally broke the silence. "We lost to them."
XH nodded. "We weren't locked in."
TZ stared out the window. "Doesn't count."
Andrew added quietly, "It still stings tho."
They arrived at Nevermore Palace just before 8 AM.
The building stood tall and bright, banners moving gently in the morning air. Staff guided students inside. Music played softly. Cameras flashed.
They stepped out, straightened their jackets, and walked in together.
Inside, the entrance ceremony was moments from beginning.
XH scanned the room.
He saw Kitty near the refreshment table, calm, composed. Her eyes met his and softened.
June stood farther inside, posture perfect, expression focused. When she noticed them, something in her shoulders relaxed.
They had made it.
Barely.
JP grabbed a soda and discreetly poured a small amount of whisky into it.
TZ elbowed him. "Easy."
JP smirked. "I know right."
The headmaster's voice rose through the ballroom, welcoming everyone to the one-day festival.
Eight AM entrance ceremony.Nine AM breakfast and networking.Ten AM medical track speeches.Eleven engineering.Noon business.One computing.Then talent shows.Then registrations.Then dance.Then king.Then queen.
XH took a slow breath.
They had lost a game they cared about.
They had almost missed a day that mattered more.
The night built for winning had turned into a reminder.
Timing mattered.
Focus mattered.
And today would demand both.
The festival had begun.