Quezon City High School topped the National Science Achievement Tests this year.
Again.
It's the kind of headline you'll see plastered across campus banners or front and center in Parola and The Capitol—the Filipino and English school publications, respectively.
Physics gold medals. Chemistry Olympiad winners. Robotics trophies. Quiz bee champions. Here, students were groomed to become engineers, inventors, and scientists.
But for gamers like us? We didn't exist.
There was no eSports club. No VRMMORPG team. Not even a single teacher willing to support the idea. Gaming, to them, was a distraction. A stain on our spotless academic record. Mention eSports and you'd get laughed at—or worse, judged like you were wasting your future.
I'm Aiden. Third-year STEM. Top 5 in the batch. I don't talk much, but I notice everything—especially how people like me, the ones who actually care about gaming, are treated like basura.
Like most lunch breaks, I sat with Rei and Kenji.
Rei—the robotics queen—once stopped a lecture just to argue that analog systems were outdated in modern automation. She had a sharper mind than most of our teachers. And Kenji? He was our resident clown. Always pretending to sleep in class, yet somehow crushing both our academic leaderboards and the PvP ranks in Cyber World Online—under a secret burner account.
"Ugh," Rei groaned, chewing on her food while scrolling through her phone. "Our teacher keeps telling us to avoid digital systems because they're 'too expensive.' Like, seriously? Digital is faster, more accurate, and has none of analog's limitations. Isn't that basic logic?"
Kenji laughed mid-bite. "They always pull the budget card. 'Analog is cheaper.' 'We need to save funds.' But come on—we get major DepEd grants for our science wins. Where's all that money going? Manila paper and broken projectors?"
I stabbed at my rice. "Probably another trophy shelf," I muttered. Then glanced at them. "Hey… you two free later? Cyber World Online just dropped a new update. I was thinking of hitting the study café after class. Might be a good time to squad up."
"Sure," Rei said, eyes still on her phone, her thumb scrolling like muscle memory.
Kenji leaned in and gestured with his chin. "Yo. Something's going down." We looked across the canteen. A crowd had formed near the bulletin board—tight, restless, and growing.
"What's going on?" I asked.
We couldn't see who was in the middle, but we heard a voice cut through the buzz: "Hey, Jonas!"
"Wait... there's a teacher there too," I noted. "Shouldn't they break that up?"
Rei didn't even glance up. "Probably just some student getting grilled for gaming again. Teachers here only care if you're failing."
But then Rei's thumb stopped. Her eyes widened.
"Guys," she said, her voice sharp. "Look."
She shoved her phone between us. A screenshot: Pasig Science High vs. Marikina Tech. Regional VR tournament. Real-time stats, sponsorship banners, kill counts.
Big schools. Big names. Big wins.
"What about it?" I asked, though the bitterness in my voice was obvious. That could've been us. Should've been us.
We tried to start a VRMMORPG club last semester. No teacher would back it. Admin said it wasn't 'aligned with the school's core vision.'
Rei scoffed. "They're competing on a national level. Us? We can't even register. They still think VR gaming is for dropouts."
She wasn't wrong.
Even after DepEd officially recognized eSports as a sport, our school stayed silent. Ateneo had varsity gaming teams. La Salle had caster training programs.
We had none of that. Just tech fairs and poster-making contests.
I stood up and grabbed my tray. "See you in class."
I wasn't mad at them. I just didn't want to let the frustration fester. Not now.
As I walked the hallway, a group of students rushed past, whispering.
"You hear? That new eSports teacher's getting grilled by the quiz bee kids." I stopped in my tracks.
So that's who the crowd was surrounding?
It wasn't a student. It was a teacher.
I glanced back toward the canteen, but the crowd had only grown. I let out a quiet breath and muttered to myself,
"Even teachers aren't safe... just for believing gaming is worth teaching."
After class, we went to the Study Café.
Most students didn't know what went on inside that five-story building across from school. First floor: café. Second: study nooks. But the third and fourth? A VRMMORPG training ground. High-spec rigs. Simulators. Scrim zones.
And on the fifth floor—a tiny office with a simple framed quote: "Passion is a subject worth mastering."
People said the owner was just some dropout who "made it" outside the system.
Turns out—they were wrong.
It was Sir Jonas.
Yeah. That Sir Jonas. The same one swarmed by students earlier. The same one teaching eSports in the lower sections—classes most people ignored, or ridiculed.
He didn't act like a regular teacher. Always wore sneakers with slacks. Smiled like he knew something the rest of us didn't.
Talked about resilience, strategy, and digital careers—never once mentioned rubrics.
That afternoon, everything changed.
Kenji was getting wrecked in a 1v3. Rei was deep in her dual-class grind. I was reviewing our replay from last week's mock tourney. Both of them were fully immersed in their VR pods.
Sir Jonas pulled up a chair beside me.
"Still analyzing?" he asked, nodding toward the screen.
I smirked. "Trying to see where we messed up."
He leaned in slightly. "You three want to build something real?"
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I'm not offering cash," he said. "But I've got space. Gear. Time. The kind of support your school refuses to give.
And I'm not just offering the café. I'm still a teacher. I'll back your org personally. If you win—they will have to listen."
I looked at him.
He wasn't bluffing.
And it didn't take me long to answer.
We didn't have a name. No official recognition. No school seal.
But that afternoon, we didn't need one.
Because in that moment, I knew—We weren't just students anymore.
We were contenders.