Ego Check: The Game That Changes Everything Rewrite

Ever since meeting Sable and realizing they both attended the same school, Raxian couldn't help but wonder if they were in the same grade. The possibility gnawed at him over the days, each passing interaction with his classmates sparking idle curiosity. Were they really so different? He'd assumed that someone like her—cool, composed, and a rumored League prodigy—wouldn't be part of his orbit. But what if she already was?

The answer came during gym class one sunny afternoon. Their class had been merged with the parallel grade for the session, which Raxian thought would just mean a bigger crowd of people for the usual drills. That was, until he spotted her.

Dressed in the standard gym uniform of shorts and a t-shirt, her hair tied up in a loose side ponytail, Sable blended into the crowd just enough to not seem out of place—but not enough for him to miss her. The blue streaks in her hair gleamed in the sunlight, a detail so striking it practically confirmed her identity. It was her, alright. The girl whose existence had thrown his world into flux.

They were starting with a warm-up jog outside, looping around the school's track. Among the crowd, Raxian also caught sight of Fayne. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips—he knew Fayne wasn't the most athletic, and despite their minimal interaction lately, he felt a quiet urge to make sure she didn't overexert herself. The determined yet reserved way she ran was familiar, and in some way, it reminded him of the childhood days they once shared.

Sable, on the other hand, was a completely different story. While most students settled into a comfortable pace, she seemed to thrive on the challenge. As the faster kids surged ahead, she was right there with them, her expression sharp and focused. At one point, she overtook the group entirely, her strides steady and calculated, but there was an undeniable competitive energy to her movements.

"Bring it on!" she called back to the other runners with a confident grin, her voice cutting through the buzz of footsteps.

Raxian's eyes widened slightly. Was she really challenging them? He couldn't help but feel a flicker of amusement—and perhaps a bit of admiration. This was the kind of energy he hadn't expected from her, despite everything he'd heard. There was a spark in her that matched the determination she brought to the game.

As the group's paths intersected momentarily on the track, Sable's gaze shifted, locking onto him for a fleeting moment. Was it just his imagination, or had she made eye contact with him deliberately? The smirk that followed was subtle but unmistakable, as if she knew exactly who he was and what her presence meant to him.

Raxian's heart raced—not from the jog, but from the silent challenge that seemed to pass between them in that instant. Whatever this was, it wasn't just a coincidence. And for the first time, he felt like the game wasn't just confined to the screen.

—---------------------------------------------------------

The gym class stretched on for an hour, and by the time it finally ended, most students were drenched in sweat, their faces flushed and breathing heavy. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the schoolyard as the crowd dispersed, everyone eager for a break. Raxian wiped his brow with the back of his hand, his heart still pounding—not just from the exercise, but from the quiet resolve building within him.

He glanced around, his eyes searching for her. It didn't take long to spot Sable leaning casually against the wall of the school building, her figure partially obscured by the shadows. Her posture was relaxed, her arms crossed loosely over her chest as she caught her breath. She seemed completely unbothered by the grueling session, her cool demeanor intact despite the sheen of sweat on her brow.

Raxian hesitated for a moment, his feet rooted in place. He didn't know why he felt nervous—after all, this wasn't a big deal. Just a casual conversation, right? Yet, something about her aura, the effortless confidence she carried, made it feel like there was more at stake. Still, he couldn't deny the pull, the need to confirm what he already suspected.

Summoning his courage, he approached her. The closer he got, the clearer the details became—the subtle streaks of blue in her hair catching the light, the faint smirk playing on her lips as though she knew he was coming.

"So," he started, his tone casual as he stopped a few steps away. "We're in the same year?"

Sable turned her head slightly, her green eyes meeting his with an amused glint. "Looks like it," she replied, her voice steady but light as she leaned further against the wall. She adjusted her side ponytail, the motion casual but deliberate, as though she was perfectly comfortable with the attention.

Raxian nodded, unsure how to follow up. There was an unspoken ease in the way she stood, like she didn't have a care in the world. It made him feel self-conscious by comparison, his own confidence faltering under her gaze.

"You seem... pretty good at this stuff," he added, gesturing vaguely toward the track. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Sable's smirk widened just a fraction. "What, running? It's just cardio. Keeps me sharp."

Her answer was nonchalant, but Raxian couldn't help but feel like there was more behind it. "Keeps you sharp, huh? For what?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She tilted her head slightly, as if considering whether to answer. "For whatever I need it for," she said finally, her tone cryptic but not dismissive.

Raxian raised an eyebrow. "You're not big on straightforward answers, are you?"

Sable chuckled softly, her gaze steady. "Where's the fun in that?"

Raxian found himself smiling despite himself. There was something magnetic about the way she carried herself, a mix of mystery and authenticity that made it hard to look away. For a brief moment, the tension from earlier—the hesitation, the nerves—seemed to fade, replaced by a strange sense of ease.

"Guess I'll just have to figure you out, then," he said, his tone half-joking but with a hint of sincerity.

Sable pushed off the wall, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Good luck with that," she said, starting to walk away. But before she got too far, she glanced over her shoulder, her smirk returning. "See you around, Raxian."

The way she said his name sent a jolt through him, like she'd known it all along. He watched her disappear around the corner, his mind racing with questions.

Whatever this was, it was only the beginning.

—---------------------------------------------------------

When Raxian got back home, he dropped his bag by the door and slumped onto his bed, ready to unwind after the day. As he powered up his PC, his phone buzzed on the desk. A message notification flashed across the screen.

It was from AkarisLite.

He raised an eyebrow, not entirely surprised. Their interactions had been more frequent lately, exchanging insights, strategies, and the occasional playful banter. But this message caught him off guard.

AkarisLite:

"Hey, TimeWrapped. The Clash tournament is coming up. Mid is open on my team. You in?"

Wait. Seriously?

Raxian blinked at the screen, re-reading the message to make sure he hadn't misinterpreted it. AkarisLite—someone he had admired and been humbled by not long ago—was inviting him to join their Clash team?

His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he processed the offer. Clash wasn't just any casual queue; it was competitive. Organized. It required synergy and communication, and the thought of playing alongside someone of AkarisLite's caliber was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

After a moment, he typed back.

Raxian:

"Wait, really? You sure?"

The reply came almost instantly.

AkarisLite:

"Yeah. You've improved a lot. I trust you in mid. So, are you in?"

Raxian couldn't help the small grin that crept onto his face. He paused, thinking for just a moment before typing out his response.

Raxian:

"I'm in."

He hit send and leaned back in his chair, still processing the reality of the situation. Then, an idea struck him. If mid was the only spot locked in, there might be room for one more.

Raxian:

"Hey, I noticed ADC is open. Mind if I bring someone along?"

The typing indicator popped up for a second before AkarisLite replied.

AkarisLite:

"Sure, as long as they can keep up. Who do you have in mind?"

A smirk played on Raxian's lips as he grabbed his phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Yo, Raze," he said when the line connected.

"Sup?" Raze's voice was laid-back as ever, but there was a hint of curiosity.

"You up for Clash this weekend? ADC's open."

There was a beat of silence before Raze let out a laugh. "You kidding me? Hell yeah, I'm in. Who's the team?"

Raxian hesitated, knowing the name would grab Raze's attention. "AkarisLite's team."

Raze's laugh turned into a sharp whistle. "Alright, now we're talking. Guess I'll lock in a proper adc for this one."

Raxian grinned. That was all he needed to hear.

—-------------------------------------------------------

The weekend came faster than expected, and the Clash tournament was finally here. As the team loaded into their first match, Raxian could feel the tension in the air. His nerves buzzed, but he kept them under control, knowing this was his moment to prove himself—not just to AkarisLite, but to himself.

AkarisLite took top lane, their consistent, dominating playstyle setting the tone for the team. Raxian, as mid, locked in Ekko, his signature pick, while Raze locked in Kai'Sa. Raxian knew Raze wasn't messing around when he picked her—Kai'Sa was one of his best champions, a force to be reckoned with when piloted by someone who knew her mechanics inside and out.

The game started, and the synergy between the team was palpable. AkarisLite's leadership shone through, directing plays and keeping the team's focus razor-sharp. Raze dominated the bot lane with his aggressive plays, making coordinated dives with their support.

Raxian, meanwhile, held his own in mid, keeping the enemy laner on their toes. As the game progressed, he started landing crucial flanks in team fights, his Ekko wreaking havoc in the backline.

Even Raze, known for his laid-back personality, was dialed in. He called out plays, coordinated with the jungler, and cleaned up fights with surgical precision.

With each passing match, the team's synergy grew stronger. By the final game of the night, they were a well-oiled machine. The victory screen flashed, signaling their win.

AkarisLite:

"We did it"

"Hell yeah!", Raze typed back . "GG, boys."

"Raxian, you were solid in mid."

Raxian leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin on his face. "Thanks, man. You owned botlane as usual."

The team exchanged their final words before signing off for the night, leaving Raxian staring at his screen, the thrill of the tournament still coursing through him. This wasn't just a victory—it was a milestone, a moment that reminded him of how far he'd come.

And maybe, just maybe, this was only the beginning.

—---------------------------------------------------------

Raxian leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen as the victory screen faded into the post-game stats. The night had been a success, no doubt about it, but his thoughts kept circling back to one thing: AkarisLite.

If this was a smurf account, what could their actual main account be? What rank did they really hold? Someone as skilled as AkarisLite had to be playing in the upper echelons of League's competitive ladder. Challenger, maybe? Or at least Grandmaster. But why hide behind a smurf account? Was it to avoid the pressure? To play without expectations?

Would they ever reveal their true identity to him? Or would they remain an enigma, someone whose influence was growing in his circle but whose true form was shrouded in mystery? Only time would tell.

—---------------------------------------------------------

Even Milo was starting to take notice of AkarisLite. Their summoner name had been cropping up far too often in his circle to ignore. Pro players weren't exactly rare in Milo's line of work—he'd seen his fair share of them rise through the ranks with the right mix of skill, dedication, and a solid team. Still, Milo made a habit of keeping tabs on the gaming sphere, especially when a name started generating buzz.

AkarisLite... The name struck him as oddly familiar. Digging a little deeper, he uncovered a connection to another account: Akaris. It wasn't just a similarity; the two were clearly linked. If his hunch was correct, that would mean AkarisLite was an alternate account for the grandmaster-tier Akaris. Impressive, no doubt, but Milo wasn't easily impressed. After all, anyone could make it to the top with enough dedication—or so he liked to believe.

Still, he decided to do some additional digging, and what he found intrigued him. Akaris had been a member of the now-defunct e-sports team Ascendant Force, a team once renowned for its flawless coordination and calculated plays. The reason for the team's disbandment remained a mystery, though Akaris's match history suggested that ties with certain members hadn't been severed completely. In particular, their former jungler and support appeared frequently in Akaris's games, hinting at a continued friendship—or perhaps something more.

But what caught Milo's attention was how little activity there had been on the Akaris account recently. Instead, AkarisLite had been the focus, consistently grinding games and even participating in Clash tournaments. Milo noted a recurring name among AkarisLite's Clash teammates: TimeWrapped.

TimeWrapped stood out. After being stuck in Emerald for what seemed like forever, they'd climbed to Diamond II in a remarkably short span of time. It was a leap that Milo couldn't ignore, and he suspected AkarisLite might have had a hand in it. Whether it was mentorship, coaching, or sheer inspiration, the connection between the two was undeniable.

Then there was another name: RyzeFlicker. Unlike TimeWrapped, RyzeFlicker appeared to be holding steady at Diamond I, with no clear intention of climbing further. Their match history suggested they spent most of their time in normals, rarely touching ranked. Milo couldn't help but wonder—were they waiting for TimeWrapped to catch up? It was a curious dynamic, and one that piqued his interest further.

He jotted the names down in his notebook—AkarisLite, TimeWrapped, RyzeFlicker—and made a mental note to keep an eye on their progress. The connections between them were too intriguing to ignore, especially with TimeWrapped showing signs of untapped potential.

For now, Milo leaned back in his chair, staring at the faint glow of his monitor. "Let's see where this goes," he muttered, curiosity driving him to keep digging.

—---------------------------------------------------------

Even Fayne was catching on, making steady progress. Milo had been carving out an hour each week for practice sessions with her, and the results were starting to show. In just a short span of time, Fayne had climbed to Gold IV—a commendable achievement considering how new she was to the game. Milo was impressed by her growth, even if he didn't always say it outright.

Her support skills were particularly sharp, and it was clear she had a natural understanding of the role. Her champion pool was small but focused, consisting of Seraphine, Janna, and Soraka—a reliable trio for any support main. While some might have criticized the limited roster, Milo saw the wisdom in it. With three situational picks, she could adapt to different team comps while still maintaining consistency in her playstyle.

"Better to perfect a few champions than spread yourself too thin," Milo had advised during one of their sessions. Fayne had taken the advice to heart, pouring her energy into mastering the mechanics and nuances of her chosen champions. Her Seraphine play, in particular, was becoming second nature—her ultimates hitting clutch moments, her shields saving teammates from certain doom.

Of course, Milo could handle any champion in any role with ease, but that came with years of experience. Fayne didn't have to take on the world just yet. For now, the most important thing was that she enjoyed herself. Her love for the champions she played and her enthusiasm for the support role were what mattered most.

As their weekly sessions continued, Milo couldn't help but notice how quickly Fayne picked up on his advice. She had a sharp mind for strategy, and her calm, measured approach to the game contrasted with the chaotic nature of many players. He was starting to see real potential in her, and while she still had a lot to learn, the progress she'd made in such a short time was undeniable.

"You're getting there," Milo said after one particularly clean game, where Fayne's Janna had completely turned the tide of a teamfight. "Keep this up, and you might just surprise a few people."

Fayne smiled at the compliment, her confidence growing with each session. She still had a long way to go, but for the first time, she felt like she was truly part of the game's intricate world. And with Milo's guidance, she was determined to keep climbing.

—---------------------------------------------------------

Fayne wanted to find a way to show her gratitude to Milo for all the time and support he'd given her during her League journey. So, she asked him if he'd be open to hanging out for an afternoon—a rare occasion that would actually get him to leave his home. Milo wasn't opposed to the idea; after all, a change of pace might be refreshing. With that, Fayne hopped on the first train available, ready to make her way to his city.

Leaving behind the bustling, neon-lit metropolis she called home—a city that could easily have been pulled from a True Damage, Heartsteel, or K/DA music video—Fayne found herself traveling to a much smaller city closer to the countryside. Her home city was a vibrant sprawl of towering skyscrapers with glowing billboards that lit up the streets even during the day. The air was always alive with the hum of traffic, street performers blasting music, and chatter from bustling crowds. Here, every corner seemed to tell a story of modern chaos and creative energy.

In contrast, Milo's city was calmer, quieter, and lined with quaint shops and open parks. The atmosphere shifted dramatically as Fayne stepped off the train, greeted by the sound of birdsong rather than the mechanical hum of subway trains. The streets were less crowded, the air fresher, and the surrounding greenery hinted at its proximity to the countryside. It felt like a world apart from the ever-moving pulse of her home.

She was a little early, but Fayne didn't mind. The summer sun hung high in the sky, its warmth creating a golden hue that danced across the park she wandered into. Dressed casually in her outfit—a beige off-shoulder cropped sweater layered over a black tank top, paired with high-waisted dark shorts—she looked effortlessly stylish. Her silver bob, accented by her signature black hairpins, gleamed under the sunlight. Finding a spot by the fountain, she sat down on the ledge, letting the cool spray of water bring some relief from the heat. While waiting, she pulled out her notebook and began to doodle absentmindedly, the sounds of the gentle fountain mixing with the distant murmur of families and couples enjoying the park.

Milo arrived shortly after. Usually, his attire didn't deviate much from his signature hoodie and casual style, but today was different. The hot weather had finally convinced him to adapt his wardrobe. He wore—a loose, lightweight white shirt paired with pastel-brown shorts and sandals. His ever-present glasses rested on his face, giving him a relaxed and approachable look that was somewhat unusual for him. He carried himself with his typical quiet confidence, though there was a slight awkwardness as he adjusted to being out and about in public for once.

As he approached, Fayne looked up, her face lighting up with a smile. She quickly tucked her notebook into her bag and stood, brushing off her shorts. "You actually made it out of the house. I'm impressed."

Milo smirked faintly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Well, I couldn't exactly say no, could I? Besides, it's not every day someone gets me out of my cave."

Fayne laughed. "Fair enough. Ready to explore? Or is this going to be a 'sit and talk about League' kind of hangout?"

Milo raised an eyebrow. "Depends. Are you ready to hear more about rune optimization, or do you actually want to enjoy the day?"

With that, the two set off, their banter light and easy, blending seamlessly into the tranquility of the city around them. The day promised to be a rare and refreshing break for them both—a reminder that even with their shared passion for gaming, life outside the screen could be just as rewarding.

—---------------------------------------------------------

Milo had almost forgotten how enchanting the outdoors could be under the right circumstances. Clear skies, a soft summer breeze, and the rising sun cast a warm glow over the city streets, making everything feel a little more vibrant than usual. He thought to himself that maybe he could skip the vitamin D pills today—this dose of sunlight was doing the trick.

As they wandered through the quaint streets of the smaller city, Fayne suggested stopping by a local ice cream stand. The brightly colored stall caught her eye, and Milo didn't protest, figuring a cold treat might help with the heat. Fayne studied the options carefully, finally settling on a peach and plum combo, the pastel swirls of orange and purple perfectly suiting her light, airy aesthetic. Milo, on the other hand, chose hazelnut chocolate—rich, earthy tones that, unironically, matched his warm brown eyes.

They strolled together, ice creams in hand, taking in the gentle hum of the city. Birds chirped in the trees lining the streets, and the occasional cyclist or dog walker passed by. Fayne couldn't help but notice that Milo seemed more relaxed than she'd ever seen him. His usual focused, analytical demeanor had softened into something lighter, almost content.

"This is nice," he admitted after a few moments of silence, his voice quiet but sincere. "I could... use this once in a while."

Fayne turned to him with a teasing smile, licking the edge of her ice cream cone to stop it from dripping. "Wow, high praise from you. Guess that means I've done the impossible—dragging you out of your natural habitat and actually getting you to enjoy it."

Milo let out a short laugh, his lips curling into a small smirk. "Don't let it go to your head. This is a one-time thing."

"Sure, sure," Fayne said with a grin. "I'll take what I can get."

As they walked, Fayne hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "So... how's work?" The question left her lips before she could fully think it through, and almost immediately, she regretted it. Of all things to bring up during what was supposed to be a relaxing day, she'd gone and mentioned work.

Milo raised an eyebrow, glancing at her sideways. "Work?" he echoed, his tone carrying a mix of curiosity and mild exasperation. "You mean the endless grind of managing egos, babysitting teams, and trying to keep people from rage-quitting mid-scrim?"

Fayne winced, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I—uh—sorry. I didn't mean to ruin the mood. Forget I asked."

But Milo shook his head, his smirk returning as he took another bite of his ice cream. "Relax, it's fine. Honestly... it's not so bad. Stressful, sure, but it's what I signed up for. And... there's something satisfying about seeing people improve, you know? When they actually listen to what I'm saying, anyway."

Fayne smiled softly, relieved that he wasn't upset by her question. "Sounds like you're good at what you do."

"I try," Milo said simply, his tone humble but genuine. "It's not perfect, but it works for now."

They continued walking, the conversation flowing easily between them as the city unfolded around them. Fayne couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in having brought Milo out into the world for a day. Seeing him this relaxed, this open, was a rare sight—and she silently vowed to make these outings a more regular occurrence, no matter how much he pretended to resist.

—---------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, Fayne," Milo began, breaking the comfortable silence between them. He glanced at her with a curious expression, his hazelnut-colored eyes glinting in the sunlight. "Since you brought it up, I'm genuinely curious. What made you pick up League in the first place?"

Fayne nearly stumbled mid-step, her cheeks flushing slightly at the unexpected question. Her grip tightened on her ice cream cone as her thoughts raced. There was no way she could tell Milo the truth—that League felt like a gateway into Raxian's world, a way to bridge the quiet distance between them. That would be way too revealing. Instead, she plastered on a casual smile, her voice light as she pulled together a white lie.

"Everyone else is playing it, aren't they?" she said, shrugging as if it was no big deal. "I just finally wanted to see what it's about. That's all. To see if it's worth my time."

Milo raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical but amused. "And? Was it?"

Fayne let out a small laugh, using the moment to regain her composure. "Debatable," she admitted with a playful smirk. "But at least I'm enjoying our coaching sessions. It feels like... I'm connecting a bit more with your world now, doesn't it?"

Milo paused, his lips curling into a faint smile. "Huh. Guess I hadn't thought of it that way," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, for what it's worth, I think you're doing great. And hey, if it helps bridge the gap between our worlds, then maybe League's not so bad after all."

Fayne's smile softened at his words, and she felt a quiet sense of relief wash over her. He didn't press further, didn't question her motives—and she was grateful for it. For now, her secret was safe, tucked away beneath the surface of their lighthearted conversation.

"And also," Milo continued, his voice quieter, more thoughtful, "how's your mom? How's the flower shop going? It's been so long since I visited, you know... Remember back when we were kids? We used to spend so much time together, our parents scheduling regular playdates and all that." He paused, his gaze drifting off as if caught in a wave of nostalgia. "I miss those times, before life became so... complicated."

Fayne's expression softened, but she knew exactly what he was referring to. That complicated moment in time—the fracture that changed everything. She didn't want to spark any bad memories for him, didn't want to bring up the things they both knew but never spoke about. Instead, she kept her tone light, brushing aside the heaviness in his words.

"Hey," she said gently, her eyes meeting his, "let's not think about that right now, alright? Let's just... enjoy the moment." She gave him a small smile, trying to ease the tension. "But for what it's worth, Milo, our door is always open for you if you ever feel like stopping by. You know that. And hey, I'm sure my mom would be delighted to bake those—"

"Banana cupcakes?" Milo interrupted with a grin, his eyes lighting up. "Those really were my favorite back then!"

"Yup, exactly," Fayne laughed, the warmth in her voice undeniable. "Just like when we were kids. You know, I miss that time too. Sometimes I wish I could go back."

She hesitated for a moment, the words lingering on the edge of her lips before she finally added, "I especially miss you, Milo. We were so tight back then. Nowadays, we're mostly just... connecting online."

Milo let out a breath, his smile softening into something bittersweet. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of regret. "I miss that too, Fayne. You're the one person who's always felt like home, no matter how far apart we are."

Fayne's heart gave a small, unexpected ache at his words, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she nudged him lightly with her elbow, her smile growing. "Well, hey, maybe this is the start of something new. Who knows? Maybe you'll get out of your cave a little more often and we can make some new memories."

Milo chuckled, his usual guarded demeanor cracking just a little. "Don't push your luck," he said teasingly, but there was warmth in his tone, a quiet acknowledgment that, just maybe, he wouldn't mind trying.

—---------------------------------------------------------

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in soft hues of orange and pink, their day slowly came to an end. Milo and Fayne's steps grew slower, their conversation easing into a comfortable silence as they approached the train station.

The cool evening breeze tugged gently at Fayne's hair as she turned to face Milo. "Thanks for today," she said, her smile genuine. "It was nice to hang out again. It's been way too long."

Milo adjusted his glasses, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, it was. I'll admit, it was a good change of pace." He paused, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before adding, "Thanks for dragging me out. I needed this."

Fayne laughed lightly. "I wouldn't call it dragging. You came willingly, remember?"

"Fair enough," Milo replied with a small chuckle, his usual stoic tone softening.

As the train pulled into the station, the faint hum of its arrival filled the air. Fayne turned to step onto the platform, but not before giving Milo one last glance. "Don't be a stranger, okay? And don't forget what I said—our door's always open."

Milo nodded, his expression briefly thoughtful. "I'll keep that in mind. Take care, Fayne."

"You too," she replied warmly, waving as she boarded the train.

Milo stood there for a moment, watching as the train pulled away, the rhythmic sound of its wheels fading into the distance. As he turned to head home, he couldn't help but feel a faint sense of warmth, something he hadn't felt in a long time. Today had been good. Maybe he'd let himself have more days like this. Maybe.