"Fucking dogshit game!" Elias roared, his voice full of raw, boiling anger.
He looked like he was in his early thirties—maybe thirty-two—and probably weighed close to six hundred pounds. His eyes burned with rage as he stared at the monitor, where the laggy game screen kept flickering and glitching.
Then, without warning, the screen froze and went completely dark. The system had forcefully kicked him out of the game.
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" he shouted, slamming his thick palm against the desk. The impact sent an empty coffee cup and a bunch of snack wrappers tumbling to the floor, joining the mountain of trash already piled around him.
'Why is my luck always complete dogshit?'
As far back as he could remember, life had been one long, cruel joke.
Abandoned at birth. Passed from one foster home to another, where daily abuse—both physical and emotional—was just normal.
Then came adulthood. No proper job. No girlfriend. Still a virgin at thirty. A loser by every possible standard.
And now, even the one thing he had left—this goddamn game—was turning its back on him too.
That's when it began.
Ding.
The chat lit up.
> xXNoScopeJesusXx: LMAOOOO ragequit incoming 😂
SlenderSimp420: someone check if the desk's okay 💀
TunaTank23: how does someone even get that bigass build IRL??
Cereal4Dinner: bro's sweating more than his GPU
LilGoblinz: i swear i smell the room through my screen
CleanFreak202: @LilGoblinz yeah fr, imagine the stench 💀 how's this fatass even sitting in that trash pile?
iFrameDaddy: man's playing on a potato powered PC 😂😂
Isuckballz: @iFrameDaddy lmfaooo
ChubbyChokes: the chair's the only one with a valid reason to crashout 💀
DripOrDie69: rage harder fatty, i need new clip for TittyTok
Gaylord200: keep your mouth open big guy, am almost finished 😏💦
Elias's eyes twitched as he read the flood of comments. His rage was only growing.
Yes, he was a streamer.
After losing his last job a few months back, he turned to gaming. It was the only thing he could remember ever giving him comfort—or at least a little escape from his mess of a life.
With no income coming in, and his savings gone, he decided to try his luck at streaming.
Well… it kind of worked out. But not in the way he'd hoped.
He did manage to get attention online—but not for his skill. He sucked at gaming, and people loved watching it.
Take the game he was playing now: Emperor's Dominion, a kingdom-building game he'd been grinding for about two months.
While others had already ranked up their kingdoms to high levels, he had barely managed to get his territory from F-Rank to E-Rank after weeks of playing. And now, with the game crashing before he could save his progress, he'd have to start from his last checkpoint.
The truth was simple—he was terrible at the game. But people didn't come to see him win. They came to laugh at his failures, at his rages, at his constant crashouts.
It wasn't great for him, but he couldn't complain—not really.
He had no other choice.
The viewers paid the bills. The insults were the currency that kept his lights on, his internet running, and his food delivery orders coming. So even if it was painful, there was nothing he could really do.
Elias clenched his fists and ground his teeth as more and more comments poured in.
Then, in a burst of frustration, he slammed his hand on the desk again—so hard this time that the monitor wobbled dangerously, like it might fall over.
"You think this is funny?!" he shouted at the screen, spit flying from his mouth. His voice cracked with anger. "Is this why you're here?! To mock me?! To laugh every time life decides to shit on me again?!"
But his words didn't change anything. The chat kept rolling, full of laughing emojis, jokes, and cruel comments.
Nothing he said could stop them.
He leaned in closer, his angry, sweaty face now just inches from the camera. His breathing was heavy—labored.
"Say something now, huh?! Say it to my face, you miserable—"
He stopped mid-sentence. His chest tightened—hard.
His face twisted in confusion, then pain. A sharp, burning pressure clutched his ribs and spread down his left arm.
"...the fuck...?" he mumbled, reaching to grab his chest. "N-not... now..."
He staggered back in his chair, making it creak loudly, as he wheezed in pain, both hands clutching his chest.
The pain got worse. His vision blurred. The room started spinning.
Even his heart...
Of course.
Of course it was giving up too.
Just like everything else had.
He wanted to scream again—but all he managed was a dry cough and a half-choked grunt before collapsing to the side. The camera tilted, following his heavy body as it collapsed.
The chat was silent for a moment, everyone watching his bloated form go still in the chair. Then, suddenly, it exploded with comments.
> xXNoScopeJesusXx: yo wtf??
SlenderSimp420: wait chat, is he actually dead??
TunaTank23: ayo someone call an ambulance 💀
CleanFreak202: did we just see a real heart attack live??
ChubbyChokes: i mean... man was a walking cardiac event
Gaylord200: i think i just nutted to a man dying wtf is wrong with me 😭
DripOrDie69: CLIP IT. THIS SHIT'S GONNA BLOW UP
GrimReaper: Rip Fatty 🥀🥀
More and more comments flooded in, but to Elias, they were just noise now. His mind was slipping away, unaware that his stream had hit a new record—over 5,000 viewers and still climbing.
But it didn't matter anymore.
They were right about one thing though...
He was a walking heart attack.
That was the last thought that passed through his mind before his vision gave way to total darkness.
He died.
---
Strangely, death wasn't as bad as Elias had always imagined.
There wasn't any cold, evil darkness pulling at him. It was just... silent. Still. Peaceful.
His mind drifted in that endless dark space. No angry boss yelling about deadlines. No girls laughing at him behind his back. No stress about bills, life, or the world.
Just silence.
He kept drifting, like a leaf on water, floating through what felt like forever in that calm, dark void.
Then—slowly—he heard something.
At first, it was soft. A rushing sound, like wind blowing through trees. But it grew louder... calming, steady. Water. Maybe a waterfall?
Then came light.
It started faint—warm, golden. Then brighter, stronger. The darkness faded until it was gone completely.
Elias opened his eyes.
He was standing at the base of a massive waterfall—easily the most beautiful one he had ever seen.
Clear, sparkling water fell from a cliff high above, glowing under a bright beam of sunlight cutting through the trees above like a spotlight from heaven. Mist floated around him like glittering dust, and the pool at the bottom was so calm and clear it looked like glass.
He blinked, eyes wide.
"Woah..." he whispered, stunned.
The sound, the light, the breeze—everything felt too peaceful, too perfect.
Was this... Heaven?
It had to be. A place this beautiful couldn't be real.
But him? In Heaven?
"No way," he said with a dry laugh.
No way someone like him would make the cut. He wasn't a good person—not even close. On his best days, he was just... average.
Every preacher or book had always made Heaven sound like it was only for the pure-hearted. That wasn't him.
Then he looked down.
And froze.
He was barefoot, standing on soft grass that felt like velvet under his feet. A loose white shirt hung from his now normal-looking body, matched with simple black trousers. He lifted his arms and stared.
His arms were... lean. Strong. Healthy.
He looked fit.
Carefully, as if afraid to break it all, he stepped forward and leaned over the water.
The reflection staring back made his chest tighten.
It looked like him—same black hair, same sharp green eyes—but somehow, better. Stronger. His face was defined, clean, alive.
"Is this... really me?" he whispered, reaching out to touch the water.
Just then, a voice spoke—gentle and clear, cutting through the sound of the waterfall like a whisper in the breeze.
"Enjoying the view, Elias?"