His alarm didn't wake him.
Something else did.
A faint vibration around his wrist.
Raxian blinked against dim morning light filtering through the blinds. His room still smelled faintly like energy drink and dust-warmed electronics.
He hadn't changed.
Jeans. Hoodie. Chains still resting against his collarbone. One sock half-kicked off the edge of the bed.
His EGO watch pulsed softly.
A small golden icon flickered on the glass.
He lifted his arm.
On the screen, his avatar stood inside the private chamber.
Fully awake.
Arms crossed.
Waiting.
Then a notification appeared in clean system font:
Good morning. Stability at 72%.
Raxian squinted at it.
"…It's not a good morning."
The avatar tilted its head slightly.
Golden pulse faint but steady.
Another line appeared.
Rest recommended.
He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
"Yeah? You think?"
The avatar walked to the edge of the chamber balcony, looking out over the floating skyline, now in daylight. Calm. Composed.
Unlike him.
Raxian groaned and sat up, dragging both hands through his hair.
Promo.
Gone.
He swung his legs off the bed and stood. The watch dimmed but stayed warm against his skin.
Bathroom. Cold water. No breakfast.
He changed quickly — black tee, layered flannel over it, hoodie on top. Chains and the platinum blonde streak going through his bangs adjusted carefully. Rings. Leather bracelet. The EGO watch stayed.
Statement.
Always.
He liked layers.
He laced his shoes in the hallway, backpack slung over one shoulder.
His mom stood in the kitchen doorway, mug in hand, watching him the way she always did in the mornings.
"You're heading to Tess's again?"
He adjusted the strap of his backpack.
"Yeah."
"You didn't even take anything from the fridge."
"I'll eat there."
A small sigh.
"You were loud last night."
His jaw tightened.
"It was just a match."
"I know."
He finally looked at her then — just for a second.
She wasn't judging him.
She never did.
"That café isn't going anywhere," she added gently. "Neither is the game."
He looked away first.
"I'm fine."
Another quiet pause.
"Okay," she said. "Tell Tess I said hi."
He opened the door before she could say anything else.
Cold air hit his face.
Their apartment sat on the highest floor in the building. The elevator was already busy this time of morning — muffled voices drifting from the shaft.
He didn't wait.
Stairs.
The echo of his shoes followed him down.
Outside, the city was already awake.
Not that it ever really slept.
Digital billboards flickered between ads and match highlights. Storefront screens replayed clipped ultimates in slow motion. A crowd had gathered outside a tech shop, arguing over some new peripheral release.
"Did you see Euphony Trio's latest?" someone was saying near the café corner. "Miss Laura outdid herself."
"Of course she did."
Across the street, a display window rotated limited-edition Éthernel figurines. Rouge stood frozen mid-pose, crimson pulse curling around him in sculpted light.
Further down, a massive vertical screen wrapped around a tower.
One word.
ZENITH.
Clean, white, untouchable.
The team logo pulsed slowly above the skyline.
Raxian's expression darkened almost imperceptibly.
Zenith.
Best of the best.
Challenger mainstays.
Meanwhile he couldn't even secure Diamond.
He looked away first.
People rushed past him wearing branded hoodies, EGO watches glowing faintly on wrists, conversation buzzing about ranks, matches, tournament qualifiers.
The whole city revolved around it.
Rank mattered here.
Rank decided café discounts.
Rank decided sponsorships.
Rank decided who got noticed.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking.
The EGO watch on his wrist pulsed once more.
Subtle.
Steady.
Like it was still tracking him.
He didn't look at it this time.
He had school.
And last night still clung to him like static.
-
The bell above the café door chimed softly when Raxian pushed it open.
Warm air wrapped around him instantly — coffee, vanilla, toasted bread. The low hum of conversation blended with the faint clatter of cups.
Second Shift always felt like it existed slightly outside the city's rush.
Wood-paneled walls.
String lights draped lazily above the counter.
Polaroids and notes pinned behind the register.
Half-finished mugs left by regulars who practically lived here.
It was their place.
Marcus was already in the booth near the window, arm thrown casually over the backrest like he owned the place. Leather jacket, relaxed posture, that effortless half-smile he wore like armor.
Bruce sat across from him, nursing a mug, staring into it like it personally offended him that it was Monday.
Logan occupied the end seat, hood up slightly, headset resting around his neck. A paperback book open in one hand. Steam curled from the cup near his elbow. He didn't look up when the bell chimed.
Tess stood behind the counter, pink apron tied neatly at her waist, wiping down the wooden surface with precise movements. Her hair was pulled back loosely, strands catching the warm light.
She glanced up.
"Morning."
It wasn't soft, it was solid.
Raxian gave her a small nod.
Before he could move further—
An arm hooked around his shoulders.
"Diamond boy!"
Jake.
Of course.
Jake smelled like citrus deodorant and confidence. His grin was already wide, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Raxian didn't even look at him.
"Don't."
Jake leaned in closer.
"So. Heard promos were intense."
Marcus smirked from the booth. Bruce looked mildly more awake.
"Top diff?" Marcus offered casually.
Raxian's jaw tightened.
"Shut up."
Jake laughed.
"I mean, that 'try me?' player?" He whistled low. "You got outclassed, man."
How about she tests herself and stays away from my games.
The thought stayed internal.
Barely.
Jake squeezed his shoulder once more before dropping into the booth.
"Relax. It happens."
"Not to you, apparently," Raxian muttered.
Jake leaned back, smug. "Friday. Clean climb."
"Lucky matchmaking."
"Oh, sure."
Tess cleared her throat from behind the counter.
"If you're going to argue about rank before eight a.m., at least order something."
Marcus lifted his hand lazily. "Usual."
Bruce followed. "Same."
Raxian slid into the booth without asking. Tess already knew.
Logan finally glanced up briefly, gray eyes steady behind slightly messy hair.
He gave Raxian a small nod.
That helped more than it should have.
Bruce took a sip of his coffee and glanced around the table.
"Where's Ava?"
Jake immediately pointed at Logan.
"Yeah, where's your other half?"
Logan didn't look up from his book.
"Cram class."
"Of course," Bruce muttered.
Jake physically recoiled.
"Why would anyone willingly attend extra school before school?"
Logan shrugged once.
"She wants to."
Jake shuddered dramatically.
"Couldn't be me."
Tess set down a plate in front of Raxian — sandwich, perfectly toasted. She didn't say anything about last night.
She didn't need to.
Marcus leaned forward slightly, watching Raxian over steepled fingers.
"You adding the smurf?"
Raxian's eyes flicked up.
Jake perked up instantly.
"Oh, you did not."
Raxian reached for his drink.
Silence.
That was answer enough.
Jake's grin widened slowly.
"Oh this is going to be good."
Logan turned a page in his book.
Bruce sighed into his coffee.
Marcus's smile sharpened just a fraction.
Outside, the city pulsed.
Inside, the group settled into their familiar rhythm.
And somewhere in the system—
A friend request still waited to be accepted.