The first obstacle did not come as a threat.
It came as a courtesy.
Zhou discovered it the next morning while reviewing City League scheduling details, a mug of coffee cooling beside his keyboard. He frowned, refreshed the page, then refreshed it again.
"Huh," he muttered.
Daniel looked up. "What?"
Zhou rotated the screen toward him. "We've been moved."
CrystalFeather leaned over. "Moved where?"
Zhou tapped the bracket. "From the main venue."
Silence followed.
Epoch had originally been scheduled to play their opening City League match on one of the primary stages—nothing glamorous, but visible. Now their name sat quietly in a secondary bracket, tucked into a smaller venue with fewer streams and no official commentary.
WildZone frowned. "Is that even allowed?"
"Yes," Zhou replied. "Barely."
Ironwall spoke calmly. "Administrative flexibility."
Blackstone added, "Courtesy."
Daniel nodded. "Courtesy," he echoed.
The email arrived minutes later.
Polite. Professional. Impeccably worded.
Due to recent roster adjustments and broadcast considerations, your team has been reassigned to an alternate venue.We appreciate your understanding and wish Epoch success in the upcoming matches.
No accusations.
No explanation.
Just a door closed gently enough that most people wouldn't notice.
Zhou exhaled sharply. "They didn't block us. They just… moved us out of sight."
CrystalFeather's jaw tightened. "So they're pretending we don't matter."
Daniel shook his head. "No. They're making sure fewer people notice if we win."
Practice that day felt different.
Not tense.
Focused.
WildZone played faster, but not recklessly. CrystalFeather committed harder. Blackstone absorbed pressure without complaint. Ironwall's calls came earlier, firmer.
Daniel said little.
He didn't need to.
They all understood the message now.
That night, World Chat buzzed quietly.
"Epoch playing off-stream?""Strange.""Wasn't Nightwalker Top 100?""Guess City League doesn't care about ladder heroes."
Someone replied:
"City League cares about history."
Daniel closed the chat.
History was exactly why they were here.
The day of the match arrived without ceremony.
The secondary venue was smaller, older, quieter. Folding chairs instead of padded ones. No cameras hovering overhead. No analysts warming up.
Just players.
Epoch arrived early.
Daniel walked the room once, noting sightlines, lighting, sound.
"Feels like a scrim," WildZone muttered.
Daniel replied, "Good. Treat it like one."
Their opponents arrived shortly after.
A local team. Solid record. Nothing flashy.
The opposing captain glanced at Daniel, recognition flickering briefly across his face.
"Didn't expect to see you here," he said.
Daniel met his gaze calmly. "Neither did we."
The captain smiled awkwardly. "Well. Guess we'll make it interesting."
Daniel nodded. "You always should."
The match loaded.
No countdown graphics.
No audience noise.
Just the familiar hum of machines.
From the first minute, Epoch played clean.
Not cautious.
Deliberate.
WildZone controlled tempo. CrystalFeather pressured mid relentlessly. Blackstone held top like a wall. Ironwall denied vision until the map felt smaller with every second.
Daniel anchored it all.
The opponent tried to force fights.
Epoch refused.
They waited.
Then struck.
The first kill came at nine minutes.
Then another.
The map tilted.
By fifteen, the outcome was clear.
The final push was methodical.
When the crystal shattered, the screen flashed—
VICTORY
No cheers followed.
Just quiet acknowledgment.
Zhou checked the results page.
Epoch's name sat at the top of the bracket.
Advancing.
"Off-stream win," Zhou said softly. "Exactly what they wanted."
Daniel removed his headset.
"Let them," he said. "This isn't the match that matters."
CrystalFeather looked at him. "Then which one does?"
Daniel stood.
"The one they can't hide."
Outside the venue, the air felt sharper.
Not colder.
Clearer.
Epoch had passed their first test.
Not of skill.
Of patience.
And somewhere else, behind polished emails and quiet reassignments, Dawn was realizing something uncomfortable.
Courtesy hadn't been enough.
