Arc 1: League of the Ancient and The Dream of VR
The alarm's shrill beeping sliced through Aiden's dreamless sleep like a digital knife. His hand moved automatically, fingers fumbling to silence the device before it could disturb the apartment's paper-thin walls.
4:30 AM, October 12, 2037. Another day, another grind.
Aiden sat up and ran his fingers through his disheveled dark hair, blinking away the exhaustion that clung to him like a second skin. Moonlight filtered through the worn curtains, casting long shadows across his cramped bedroom. Three hours of sleep—a luxury he couldn't afford yet somehow couldn't avoid.
"Three hours," he muttered, calculating the hours until his next shift as if solving an equation with too many variables. "It'll have to do."
The cold water from the bathroom faucet shocked his system, a poor substitute for proper rest but effective enough to momentarily banish the fog of fatigue. The mirror reflected a face too weathered for twenty-three: sharp cheekbones, perpetually tired eyes that had seen too much, and the ghost of a smile that rarely materialized these days.
Engineering student to convenience store clerk to professional gamer.
Not exactly the career trajectory the guidance counselors had mapped out for him. But life had its own algorithms, ones that cared nothing for carefully plotted paths.
Aiden moved with practiced stealth down the narrow hallway, avoiding the third floorboard that always betrayed movement with its telltale creak. His sister's door opened with a whisper, revealing fourteen-year-old Lily curled beneath a worn comforter, textbooks scattered across her bed like fallen leaves. Even in sleep, her expression remained serious—so much like their mother's that it sent a pang through his chest.
She'd fallen asleep studying again. Advanced biology, from the looks of it. Aiden carefully gathered the books, noting how the margins were filled with her neat handwriting. Dreams of medical school were etched in those notes, spelled out in chemical formulas and anatomical terms. He adjusted the blanket over her shoulders, a small gesture of protection in a world that had already asked too much of her.
"Sleep well, Lily," he whispered. "I'll be back before you wake up for school."
On her desk lay a permission slip for a science program—one that could open doors for her future. The $75 fee might as well have been $7,500 given their situation. Aiden committed the number to memory, adding it to his mental spreadsheet of expenses: $100 for rent, $25 for utilities, $50 for groceries, and the ever-growing medical bills now at $1,240 for this month alone.
The refrigerator's light cast a harsh glow on their meager provisions. He left Lily's portion of leftovers on the counter with a note: "Eat before school. Buy your dinner, I'll be coming home late. Don't forget your science homework. –A"
Grabbing an energy bar for himself, Aiden checked his phone. No messages from the hospital—no news was good news when it came to their mother's condition. His gaze drifted to the family photo still hanging in the entryway: his parents smiling, Lily missing her front teeth, and himself holding a science fair trophy. His chest tightened at the sight.
A lifetime ago.
The pre-dawn air hit him with an October chill as he stepped outside, pulling his worn jacket tighter around his shoulders. The walk to the bus stop would take fifteen minutes—time he used to plan his day with the precision he once applied to engineering problems.
Minimum wage meant $7.25 an hour. Four hours at the convenience store would net him $29 before taxes—just enough for a sandwich and a bottle of water with maybe something small for Lily. Every dollar had a name, every hour a cost.
As the bus rumbled along its route, Aiden's gaze drifted to the sprawling hospital complex coming into view. Room 412. The numbers flashed in his mind unbidden, bringing with them a wave of guilt that threatened to drown him.
Seven years.
Seven years since the call that changed everything. The memory hovered at the edges of his consciousness, a shadow he couldn't fully confront now—not when he needed to focus on the day ahead.
He forced his thoughts back to the present as the bus approached the convenience store. The SuprMart sign flickered weakly in the early morning darkness, the 'e' permanently burnt out. His kingdom for the next four hours.
...
"I need to speak to a manager. This is unacceptable," the woman hissed, her perfectly manicured nails tapping an impatient rhythm on the counter. Her designer bag probably cost more than his monthly rent. "The price on the shelf clearly said $32.99, not $39.99."
Aiden maintained his professional smile, the one that never quite reached his eyes. Five hours into his shift with only a ten-minute break, he had perfected the art of customer service autopilot.
"I apologize for the confusion, ma'am. Those labels were changed yesterday, but it seems one was missed. I'd be happy to adjust the price for you."
The woman sniffed, her expression suggesting she'd found something unpleasant beneath her shoe. "Well, I should hope so. Some of us have important places to be."
As he processed the adjustment, Aiden's mind continued its background calculations. Three extra shifts would cover Lily's science program, but that meant less time for the betting games at night, which brought in better money. The equation never balanced the way he needed it to.
"There you go, ma'am. Again, I apologize for the inconvenience," he said, handing over the receipt with the same practiced smile.
She left without acknowledgment, the bell chiming her departure. Aiden's manager, Mr. Park, emerged from the back room with a knowing look.
"Tough customer?"
"Nothing I couldn't handle," Aiden replied, already restocking the display the woman had knocked over during her complaints.
Mr. Park lowered his voice, his eyes showing a rare moment of genuine concern. "Listen, Kim, I know you've been picking up extra shifts. If you need more hours, I can see what I can do. My nephew was supposed to work Saturday, but he's flaking again."
Aiden's mental calculator immediately adjusted. Saturday would mean missing a local tournament at the internet cafe, but the stable income was tempting. Certainty versus possibility—an engineering problem with human variables.
"I appreciate it, Mr. Park. I'll take it."
"Good man," his boss nodded. "Finish your shift and get some rest. You look dead on your feet."
Rest was a luxury Aiden couldn't afford, but he nodded anyway. In six hours, he'd be at the internet cafe, fingers flying across a keyboard, turning virtual gold into real money.
...
The Golden Mouse Internet Cafe hummed with activity despite the late hour. Rows of monitors cast a blue glow over the faces of gamers lost in digital worlds. The air smelled of instant ramen, energy drinks, and the faint tang of sweat—the familiar perfume of competitive gaming.
"Cutting it close, Kim," Old Man Jo called from behind the counter, his weathered face creasing into something between a smile and a grimace. "Your usual station's open. You've got challengers waiting."
Aiden nodded gratefully, slipping into seat 23—his lucky spot. The worn chair molded to his form, the keyboard positioned exactly how he liked it. He logged into League of the Ancient, the familiar loading screen washing over him like a homecoming.
This wasn't just a game—it was a battlefield where skill translated directly to currency. Win matches, collect gold, sell items to players willing to pay real money for virtual advantage. More importantly, accept betting challenges from other players.
His character loaded—a mid-level battlemage with stats that belied its capabilities in the right hands. Not flashy enough to attract attention, but effective enough to secure wins. Aiden had mapped every skill progression, memorized every cooldown timer, and developed strategies that compensated for the character's weaknesses.
Messages immediately pinged his inbox:
[KnightFury]: Back for more punishment, Architect? 100 gold says you can't take me in Battlefield Arena.
[BladeMaster88]: Yo Architect, 2v2? My partner and I vs. you and random. 200g wager.
The nickname had stuck after his first week at the café. While other players focused on flashy combat moves, Aiden approached games like engineering problems—analyzing patterns, identifying structural weaknesses, building foundations for victory. The "Architect" built pathways to wins that others couldn't even see.
He checked his current balance: 1,240 gold. Converted to real money at current rates, just $124—barely enough to scratch the surface of their monthly expenses. Not even half the rent.
Not enough. Never enough.
But tonight could change that. Tonight had to change that.
Aiden cracked his knuckles and typed a response to KnightFury:
[Architect]: Terms accepted. Arena 7. 5 minutes.
Then, anticipating the next match, he opened a private chat with Old Man Jo:
[Architect]: Got a 2v2 lined up after this. Anyone solid online who can tank?
[GoldenMouse]: Marcus is at station 17. Boy's built like a tank in real life too. Solid player, doesn't take risks.
Perfect. Marcus had backed him before, turning Aiden's strategic plays into defensive walls. He'd need that stability against BladeMaster's team, known for aggressive early strikes.
As the first match loaded, the system flashed a briefing across his screen:
[LEAGUE OF THE ANCIENT]
[MAP: BATTLEFIELD ARENA - ARENA 7]
[MODE: PVP MODE - WAGER]
[COMBATANTS: ARCHITECT VS KNIGHTFURY]
[WAGER: 100 GOLD]
Aiden settled into his chair, his exhaustion falling away as his mind shifted into the focused state that made him formidable. Here, in this digital arena, his precise calculations and pattern recognition transformed into power. Here, he wasn't just surviving—he was winning.
KnightFury's character appeared across the arena—a high-level knight with premium equipment that sparkled with rare enchantments. Money buying advantage, as usual. But equipment couldn't purchase skill or foresight.
"Let's see what you've got," Aiden murmured, fingers poised over the keyboard as the countdown began.
The arena bell sounded, and the real world faded away. Hospital bills, rent due next month, Lily's school program—all of it receded into background noise as Aiden's mind calculated trajectories, cooldown timers, and the predictable patterns of human behavior under pressure.
For the next twelve minutes, he wasn't a dropout working minimum wage. He wasn't the older brother struggling to hold his family together. He wasn't the son who—
He was simply the Architect, building a victory one strategic move at a time.
When the victory notification flashed across his screen, a small crowd had gathered behind him:
[System]:KnightFury has been defeated! Architect wins! 100 gold transferred. Current Balance: 1340
Aiden rolled his shoulders, allowing himself a small smile that, for once, reached his eyes. One down.
He opened a new tab and pinged Marcus at station 17:
[Architect]: Up for making some gold? Got a 2v2 challenge—200g wager. 50-50 split your way if we win.
The reply came instantly:
[FortressWall]: I'm in. Those BladeMaster guys talk too much anyway.
Aiden checked the time. Three hours before he needed to be home to get Lily ready for school. Three hours to make rent, cover their mom's prescriptions and bills, and—maybe—find a way to keep moving forward.
[LEAGUE OF THE ANCIENT]
[MAP: CRESCENT VALLEY]
[MODE: PVP MODE - WAGER]
[COMBATANTS: BLADEMASTER88 & DEATHDANCER VS ARCHITECT & FORTRESSWALL]
[WAGER: 400 GOLD TOTAL POOL]
He glanced back at the screen as the next match began to load, his fatigue swept away by the rising tide of resolve. Tonight, he would win.
He had no other choice.