The narrative didn't shift overnight.
It drifted.
Slowly enough that most people didn't notice—until it was already everywhere.
It started with an article.
Not an accusation.
Not even criticism.
Just a "background piece" published on a mid-tier esports site, the kind people skimmed between matches.
"From Legend to Ladder: Nightwalker's Second Act"
Zhou read it twice, jaw tightening a little more each time.
"They're being polite," he said. "That's worse."
CrystalFeather leaned over his shoulder. "They're framing."
Ironwall glanced up. "How so?"
Zhou scrolled. "Lots of praise. Lots of nostalgia. And then—there."
He tapped the screen.
'Some wonder whether a player shaped by the old professional system can truly adapt to the modern meta…'
Daniel listened without reacting.
"They're not saying you're bad," WildZone said. "They're saying you're outdated."
Daniel nodded. "Which makes the loss sound inevitable when it happens."
By evening, clips started circulating.
Not highlights.
Pauses.
Freeze-frames of Daniel mid-fight.
Arrows drawn by analysts.
"Notice how Nightwalker relies on team positioning rather than raw execution…""Strong fundamentals, but exploitable if isolated…"
Blackstone folded his arms. "They're turning strengths into limits."
Daniel replied calmly, "That's what context does."
The next broadcast reflected it immediately.
Leo sounded cautious. Too cautious.
"You can see Epoch's structure here," he said during warm-up coverage. "But the question remains—can this style hold under sustained pressure?"
Mason added, "Especially against teams willing to attack the Crusader directly."
WildZone snorted. "They make it sound like you're fragile."
Daniel smiled faintly. "Good."
Draft phase began.
The enemy team didn't ban WildZone.
Didn't touch CrystalFeather.
They banned Holy Crusader.
The hall murmured.
Leo leaned forward. "Whoa. That's targeted."
Mason nodded. "They're forcing Nightwalker off comfort."
Daniel didn't hesitate.
He locked in Vindicator.
A more aggressive class.
Less forgiving.
WildZone glanced sideways. "You sure?"
Daniel replied, "They want to test the story. Let's help them write it."
The early game was chaotic.
Without the Crusader's anchor, fights broke faster. The enemy pressed hard, diving mid repeatedly, testing Daniel's reactions.
They got a kill.
Then another.
The crowd buzzed.
"Is this it?" someone shouted.
CrystalFeather tightened her jaw. "They're overreaching."
Ironwall said quietly, "They believe the article."
Daniel moved.
The first counter came at twelve minutes.
Daniel didn't hold.
Didn't wait.
He flanked.
Hard.
The Vindicator tore through the enemy backline before they adjusted.
Two kills.
Then three.
The narrative cracked.
Leo's voice rose. "That's—unexpected."
Mason followed, startled. "That's not outdated play. That's pure read."
From there, the match tilted violently.
The enemy tried to adapt mid-game, but their draft had already committed to a story that was no longer true.
They lost vision.
Lost timing.
Lost confidence.
The final fight was decisive.
The crystal shattered.
VICTORY
Backstage, Zhou let out a long breath.
"They wanted to define you," he said.
Daniel removed his headset. "So I reminded them I define myself."
WildZone grinned. "Guess the article's obsolete now."
Daniel shook his head. "No. They'll write another."
Across the city, in a quiet office, the tailored man read the post-match reactions.
Brows furrowed.
"So he's not attached to the Crusader," he murmured.
"No," his assistant said carefully. "He's attached to control."
The man exhaled. "Then change the question."
He stood.
"Next time," he said, "we don't ask if he's outdated."
A pause.
"We ask if his team can survive without him."
Epoch left the venue under brighter lights than before.
The crowd watched them now.
Not as a curiosity.
But as a problem.
And problems, Daniel knew, never went unanswered for long.