Ever since I started playing League, I've dreamed of becoming a pro.
The pure excitement I got from this game meant everything to me.
And when I say everything, I mean it.

Back then, I didn't even care about the money, but obviously was aware that someday I'd have to make some.
Anyway, doing what you love for a living sounded like a great idea—I would never ever have to work in my life, right?

Sadly, I didn't realize I wasn't made for this.
The e-sports scene is a cold-blooded battlefield of modern world and our society doesn't care about those who've tried; it only cares about the one's basking in glorious success.
So either you make it, or you fall into a deep hole of utter despair.
That's the cruel reality of giving your everything to something you love.

It's the year 2042, I'm 18 years old and League of Legends has thrived to become the greatest franchise in the world.
With over 1 billion monthly players worldwide, it's a true phenomenon of humanity.
Many legends like Faker, Chovy, and Caps have retired by now, but their stories won't ever be forgotten.
Now, it's time for a new generation; new upcoming talents who will rule the world of e-sports.

As soft glowing illuminated my face, casting a familiar hue across my room, I delved into the virtual realms. My rank—a testament to thousands of hours I had spent determinedly improving myself, climbing the SoloQ ladder.
As I finally managed to escape the elo-hell of diamond, getting into Master-tier for the first time, my aspirations reached for the stars. Dreaming of joining a top-tier team, battling it out in the arenas of professional play with millions of people watching me was within grasp—or so I thought.

All of my applications sent out to the big teams competing at the top of League of Legends' competitive hierarchy were met with indifference.
My comparatively low rank acted as an insurmountable barrier—not even being able to get into a single tryout.
Despite all the disappointment I persevered, turning my room into both a refuge and a training ground.
No way I'm gonna play in the 3rd or 4th division again...

Then, a notification caught my attention. Skepticism lingered as I clicked to open it, revealing an unexpected opportunity.
An unknown sender had a request—their team, in the midst of an offline tournament, faced a crisis.
Their mid-laner fell ill, unable to make it to the semi-finals of the 'Red Bull Super-Cup' in Berlin this weekend, which they had qualified for.
They needed a substitute, and were reaching out to me.

"Why me?" I muttered, scrutinizing the message, besides all the hope that had sparked inside me.
Surely, there were far more skilled players out there they could have asked instead.
Yet, tournament constraints provided the answer.
Five German players were needed, and they couldn't be participating in the 1st or 2nd league—criteria that narrowed the options significantly.

A mix of excitement and uncertainty swirled within me. This was my chance to step onto the grand stage, to prove myself where others had doubted.
Many important people were going to watch this tournament, and if I managed to leave an impression... Maybe, just maybe some big team would reach out to me afterward!

Suddenly, long forgotten anxiety rushed through my body as I looked outside the window. Frozen in fear, memories of long passed times pierced my mind, aching deeply in my soul.
It was as if the spark of hope had been extinguished—drowned in the tears streaming down my face, tracing the deep scars carved into my very being.

No way... I can't do it...

A muffled thud resonated as I slammed my fist onto the table, flooded with a sense of powerlessness that had aroused an indescribable anger inside of me.

"DAMN IT!"

These fucking bastards...

I had always known that it would be hard, but in that moment it felt impossible—conquering my biggest fears when there were just too many of them.
The only thing I felt was a sorrow emptiness that had taken over my heart ever since that day.

As dark shadows of loneliness surrounded me, I gave into crying, questioning every decision—every move I had made.
What's even the point of living anymore at this point?!
Too many times had I asked that question with answers nowhere to be found.
Gazing into the nothingness of an abyss, I was left without any will to continue this miserable existence.

So that's it, huh?
I'm gonna die just like that; a pesky loser who locked himself away from reality because he was too weak to handle it.
My dreams thrown out of the window just like my body, as it splatters all over the ground...

"If you can smile, you can be the light!"

What the hell?!

I startled as I heard the familiar voice, looking around before realizing where it came from. With gleaming eyes my precious Lux action-figure smiled at me.
Her warm expression sparkling in glorious light helped to calm me down.
Looking at her pure being I couldn't stop myself from forming atleast a small smile.

„But... I don't think it's that simple...“ I mumbled.

„Sometimes we need to go through a long dark tunnel until reaching the light of day. Don't give up on yourself! Keep believing, Noah!“

„Maybe you're right... I can't give up just yet,“ I said, wondering what might have been the source of my sudden faith.

Thankfully, I took the figure and pressed it onto my chest.
Lux was a real friend, not like the others that had betrayed me – I could always count on her.

Taking a deep breath, I typed my response, and the stage was set – Berlin awaited a clash of pixels and passion that would determine my fate.
There was just one question remaining...

Since when could this figure talk?

Or was it all just in my head...?