The lights of the gas station buzzed overhead, casting a pale glow on the rows of candy bars and magazines. Liam leaned against the counter, half-heartedly rearranging a rack of gum.
Another slow morning.
The front door swung open with a faint jingle, and in walked his manager, Mr. Patel - a short man with a neat mustache, pressed shirts, and the perpetually tired look of someone who had long accepted the routine of his life.
"Liam" Mr. Patel called out, balancing a box of supplies. "Give me a hand with this?"
Liam jogged over and grabbed the box before it could topple.
As they stocked shelves together, Mr. Patel gave him a sideways glance.
"You seem... different today."
"Different?" Liam asked, puzzled.
"Less zombie, more..." Mr. Patel waved vaguely. "Alive."
Liam chuckled. "Didn't think you'd notice."
"I notice everything. Comes with running this place for twenty years."
For a moment, they worked in silence, the soft thud of cans hitting shelves filling the space.
Then Mr. Patel asked, casually, "Got something new going on?"
Liam hesitated.
Should he say it?
Would he sound ridiculous?
"I've been... playing this game. Vanguard. Thinking about getting better at it. Maybe competing someday."
Mr. Patel raised an eyebrow. "Competing? Like... tournaments?"
"Yeah" Liam said, scratching the back of his neck. "I know it sounds dumb. I'm still bad. But... it's the first thing that's made me feel like I'm actually good at something."
Mr. Patel considered that for a long moment.
"You know" he said finally, "I used to want to be a musician. Played guitar in a band back in Mumbai. Thought we'd be famous one day."
He smiled wistfully.
"Life happens. Dreams change. But chasing them... that's not a waste."
Liam blinked, surprised.
"I'm not saying quit your job and run off tomorrow" Mr. Patel said, patting him on the shoulder. "But don't bury it either. See where it goes."
For the first time, Liam felt a strange warmth toward the gruff man who yelled at him for stocking sodas wrong.
"Thanks" he said quietly.
That Afternoon: Back at Home
The computer whirred awake again, an old, comforting sound now.
Liam pulled up Vanguard, his heart a little lighter after the conversation.
The Ranked tab blinked invitingly.
He hesitated.
Maybe it was time to understand this world properly.
He opened the "Information" tab.
Vanguard: Ranking System
- Bronze (Low tier, learning basics)
- Silver (Average player base)
- Gold (Solid understanding, consistent skills)
- Platinum (Good mechanics, smart decision-making)
- Diamond (Semi-pro level skills)
- Master (Top 1% of the server)
- Legend (Elite few — tournament players)
He stared at it for a long time.
Bronze felt... tiny.
But now he knew.
Now he could climb.
He also browsed the Operators list:
Popular Operators in Vanguard:
1. Sora (Recon Specialist) - Quick movements, drones, info gathering. (His main.)
2. Grimm (Tank) - Absorbs damage, shields allies.
3. Nyx (Stealth Assassin) - Cloaks, silent kills.
4. Valor (Duelist) - Explosive entry fragger, heavy damage.
5. Seraph (Healer) - Team support, revival abilities.
6. Aegis (Engineer) - Deploys turrets, traps zones.
7. Zenith (Sniper) - Long-range control, high risk-high reward.
Every Operator had their own identity.
Their own rhythm.
And Liam realized Vanguard wasn't just a "shooter."
It was chess at 200 miles per hour.
Evening: Family Dinner
Liam barely touched his plate.
His parents noticed.
They always noticed.
His father, a stocky man with graying hair and permanent frown lines, set down his fork.
"Something on your mind, son?"
His mother, a gentle woman with tired eyes and an apron that read Bless This Mess, leaned forward.
Liam swallowed.
"I... wanted to talk to you both about something."
They waited.
"I've been playing this game. Vanguard. It's competitive. And... I think I want to get serious about it."
Silence.
The clock ticked loudly in the background.
His father broke it first.
"You want to waste your time on video games?"
Liam flinched but forced himself not to shrink.
"It's not just games" he said. "There are tournaments. Money. Careers. I know I'm not there yet, but... it's something I actually want to fight for."
His mother's brow furrowed with concern.
"But... is it stable? You need a real plan, Liam."
"I'm not quitting work. Not yet" Liam said. "I'm just asking for your support. To give me a chance."
Another heavy silence.
Finally, his father sighed deeply.
"I don't understand it" he said. "But I'll say this you want respect? You have to earn it. You chase this dream, you better do it right. Not half-hearted."
Liam nodded, pulse hammering in his ears.
His mother smiled weakly. "We just want you to be happy. And... safe."
"I know" Liam said, his throat tight.
And for the first time in a long time, despite the doubt lingering in the air, he felt a bridge being built instead of burned.
Late Night Grind
Energy drink in hand, headset on, Liam queued another Ranked match.
The nerves were still there jittery, anxious.
But now they sat next to something else:
Determination.
He picked Sora again.
The match began.
Round 1
"Yo, Haze" Grade1Noob's voice crackled over comms the same dude from yesterday. "You made it to Bronze, right? Ready to carry?"
Liam laughed. "Maybe don't put too much faith in me."
Seresa was on their team again too her calm leadership already helping coordinate attacks.
They pushed a site together, clearing angles methodically.
Liam's recon detected an enemy hiding behind cover and the team wiped them instantly.
Information wins battles, he reminded himself.
They won the first two rounds.
Third round, he got cocky.
Peaked too wide.
Forgot to wait for backup.
Downed immediately.
He groaned as his screen grayed out.
"Chill, Haze" Seresa said in that steady tone. "Don't sweat it. Regroup."
Small mistakes.
Small lessons.
He scribbled a mental note:
Patience.
It was a close match.
10-11.
They were losing.
Everyone was tense.
In the final clutch round, Liam's hands shook slightly on the mouse.
One enemy left.
He remembered Seresa's words:
Hold angles. Wait.
He crouched behind cover, heart hammering.
The enemy rushed through.
Liam clicked.
Headshot.
Victory.
The team erupted into cheers.
[Rank Progress: +45 Points]
He wasn't just surviving anymore.
He was winning.
Post-Game Lobby
Grad1Noob sent him a friend invite.
Seresa messaged him:
"Good clutch. You've got potential. Keep grinding."
Liam leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen with a goofy grin.
Not bad for a gas station guy nobody expected anything from.
Final Thoughts Before Sleep
Liam lay in bed staring at the cracked ceiling.
Mr. Patel's words.
His parents cautious support.
The match today.
Maybe just maybe he was building something real here.
No shortcuts.
No instant glory.
Just one good decision at a time.
One small step closer to his dream.
And tomorrow?
Tomorrow was another day to fight.