Oh, splendid,
I muttered, sarcasm dry enough to scrape metal from bone. Exactly what I needed: an express elevator directly into someone's half-baked idea of immersive storytelling.
The cheers from above still echoed, a cacophony of frothing crowd noise compressed into raw, glitchy reverb. "Bounty! Easy prey!" They were truly milking the irony, weren't they? Because nothing screams peak entertainment like dangling your favorite washed-up legend like bait.
"Mid Gamer," they'd branded me. A walking contradiction wrapped in lag spikes and chronic sleep debt. The myth. The joke. The girl behind the guy behind the avatar—prize of the hour and designated main course in tonight's psychological buffet.
