It happened so fast.
There was no time for a strategic pause, no time to calculate the odds or ascertain the situation.
I couldn’t help it.
My “gamer-senses” locked onto the movement before my brain could protest.
I saw them rounding it up—a pack of shadows closing in on a single, shivering point of light.
It lay there at its lonesome, pinned against a rusted dumpster on the cold, wet asphalt.
I couldn’t just stand by and watch the “Game Over” screen play out for something so defenseless.
One thing led to another, and the next moment, I was a dead man walking into a battlefield without a solid plan.
I lunged, snatched the small, damp weight out of instinct, and bolted for the service alley.
It was quiet at first—that heavy, suffocating silence you only find in the “dead zones” of a city before a storm breaks.
Then the world exploded into high-fidelity sound: the frantic slap-slap-slap of my sneakers on puddles, the ragged hitch of my own breathing, and the low, guttural growls of predators closing in on their prey.
Steel trash cans clattered like gunfire as I tore through the narrow corridor.
It was survival of the fittest, and I was severely under-leveled.
Instinct overrode logic.
I didn’t think about the physics of the turn.
I didn’t calculate the velocity of the chase.
I just lunged through a gap in the fence and burst toward the main road.
I didn’t even have time to react to the change in lighting.
Then came the glare.
Flashy and blinding, it erased the shadows and turned the rain into liquid silver.
It was way too close…
far too close for my liking.
The screeching sound of the tires vibrating through the pavement made my whole body go numb.
My pupils dilated as the realization hit—I was staring down the massive silhouette of a delivery truck.
The scream of rubber against asphalt sounded like a dying beast.
My grip tightened on the small life in my arms.
The world tilted.
I felt the rush of wind, the roar of the engine, and then…
nothingness.
My consciousness splintered, and the HUD of my life went dark.
But before we get to the bloody mess on the road, let me tell you how a pro-gamer with a zero-percent social rating ended up playing the hero.
Tuesday, February 3rd.
My eighteenth birthday.
I’d actually been gung-ho about this one.
I decorated the living room until my arms ached, even attempted a cake that ended up as a charcoal disaster in the sink.
I eventually gave up and ordered one.
I picked up my phone, thumb hovering over the contact list to invite “friends,” but the realization hit like a physical weight.
My real-world list was a desert.
Zero.
I sank into the designer sofa, the silence of the estate pressing against my eardrums.
I waited for the one person who was supposed to be the anchor to my reality.
My mom.
Hours bled into the evening.
The house remained a tomb.
I grabbed my phone, my thumb trembling slightly as I dialed her private line.
To my surprise, it wasn’t her voice that greeted me.
“Hi, Young Master Kaelen.” Jolene’s voice was polished, echoing with the sterile hum of a corporate lobby.
“I know you called with hopes of speaking with your mother, but she’s currently in the middle of a high-stakes meeting.
They’re discussing quarterly projections and can’t be disturbed.”
My shoulders slumped, the phone feeling heavy against my ear.
My gaze drifted to the untouched birthday cake on the glass table.
“I just wanted to know when she’ll be back.
Today is…
it’s a special day.
She promised she’d be here.
We were supposed to celebrate together.”
A brief pause over the line—the sound of papers shuffling.
“I’m sorry.
Oh, I see…
in that case, I wish you a happiest birthday, Kaelen.
I’ll notify her the moment the meeting is adjourned.”
The line went dead with a hollow click.
I stared at the screen, my brow furrowing.
“Did she just hang up on me?”
Then, the display flickered and gasped its last breath of power.
The black screen reflected my own disappointed face.
I’d forgotten to charge it during my six-hour raid session earlier.
The irony was a dull ache in my chest.
“Darn it!” I shoved the dead device into my pocket, the plastic casing biting into my palm.
I paced out onto the balcony, leaning my weight against the cold glass railing.
Below, the city ignited in a sea of neon, the sunset reflecting off the gold-tinted windows of my mother’s latest skyscraper.
Everything down there looked busy, connected, and alive.
“At least the golden retriever doesn’t talk about quarterly projections,” I whispered to the wind, my grip tightening on the rail until the metal hummed.
I eventually collapsed into the lounge chair, my eyes growing heavy as I watched the front gate, waiting for a pair of headlights that never appeared.
11:00 PM.
One hour left of my birthday.
The violent buzz of my phone against the marble railing jolted me upright.
The screen illuminated the darkness, the caller ID flashing in cold, white letters: CEO – MOM.
I didn’t reach for it immediately.
I watched it dance across the stone, waiting for the third vibration before finally pressing it to my ear.
I didn’t say a word.
I just sat there in the dark, letting the heavy silence of the estate speak for me.
“Kaelen, darling!” Her voice was high-velocity, punctuated by the rhythmic whine of a private jet engine in the background.
“I am so, so sorry.
This merger in Singapore…
it’s a monster.
It’s eating us alive.
I’m stuck here for another forty-eight hours.”
“It’s 11 PM, Mom.” My voice sounded thin, cracked like dry parchment.
I rubbed my eyes, feeling the grit of a sleep I didn’t want.
“I know, I know!
And don’t think I forgot!
Your surprise is…
well, it’s being delivered.
A Top-tier neuro-link workstation.
The latest ICT tech.
You’ll love it, honey!”
I looked at the dark room behind me, filled with the latest tech I’d already mastered.
“You forgot, didn’t you?” My tone went flat, devoid of the warmth she was trying to fake.
I stood up, pacing the length of the balcony.
“You didn’t even know what day it was until Jolene buzzed you an hour ago.”
There was a micro-second of silence , the kind of silence that happens when a hard drive fails.Then, the defensive corporate tone clicked in.
“Kaelen, don’t be difficult.
I’m building an empire for you.
Everything I do is so you can be happy.”
“Happy?” I felt the sarcasm boiling in my throat like battery acid.
I stopped pacing and gripped the doorframe, my knuckles turning white.
“This empire is made of hot air, Mom.
When was the last time we had a conversation that wasn’t a status report?
When was the last time you cared how I actually felt?”
“Honey, I love you…
I just can’t ditch a global merger.
You need to understand—” Her voice softened, taking on that “negotiation” tone she used with board members.
“Understand?!” The word tore out of my throat.
The loneliness finally snapped, transitioning into pure, white-hot rage.
I stood tall, my shadow looming large against the glass.
“Well, tell that to the empire!”
I thumbed the end-call button with a violent snap and slammed the phone onto the marble table.
The impact echoed through the empty house.
I stood there, vibrating with a fury I couldn’t contain.
“Money?
Success?” I muttered to the empty room, my hands shaking as I looked at the museum of expensive junk surrounding me.
“What’s the point of a kingdom if the throne is three thousand miles away?”
It was then my eyes locked onto it—the work drive sitting on the mahogany desk.
It was a cold piece of metal and silicon, but it held the only thing my mother truly loved: her data.
I snatched it up, the edges digging into my palm.
With a jagged breath, I lunged toward the open balcony and hurled it.
I didn’t aim; I just let the fury in my arm take over.
It arced through the dark, rainy sky like a falling star, missing the perimeter fence entirely and disappearing into the black maw of the service alley behind the estate.
In that moment of silence, the rain started as a drizzle but quickly turned into a steady, rhythmic drumming against the marble.
Slowly, the heat in my chest cooled into a dull, sinking realization.
That drive held the keys to the empire.
If it was lost or destroyed, we’d lose it all.
I wouldn’t just be lonely—I’d be a kid in a bankrupt house.
I cursed under my breath, sucking up my pride.That drive wasn’t waterproof, and it was worth more than my life.
I scrambled down the stairs and vaulted over the back gate, my sneakers hitting the wet concrete of the alley with a dull splash.
The air out here was different—thick with the scent of ozone, wet trash, and old exhaust.The neon glow of the city above barely reached the floor, leaving everything in a hazy, blue-tinted shadow.
I began scanning the shadows, but a sharp, rhythmic sound stopped me.
Scrabble.
Splash.
Growl.
I froze.
The sound of rain hitting the trash cans was interrupted by something much more predatory.
I narrowed my eyes, my “gamer-focus” kicking in—the high-fidelity clarity I usually reserved for 1v4 clutches.
I tracked the noise to a dead-end corner behind a line of rusted dumpsters.
Three strays, their fur matted and dripping with rain, were ganging up on a small, huddled shape.
The pack leader—a mangy beast with a scarred muzzle—snarled, backing the creature against a brick wall.
Through my gamer-senses —the high-fidelity focus I used for sniping—I saw it.
A scruffy, black-and-white cat.
It was shivering, injured, and cornered with no where to run.
“Meow.” It let out a desperate, high-pitched cry.
It was a cry for help.
The cry was small, pathetic, and utterly alone.
Just like me, I thought.
I froze, my hand gripping the cold metal of the drive in my pocket.
I was undecided about the right thing to do.
I tried to turn back toward the safety of the gate.
I told myself It wasn’t my business.
I took four steps away, my boots heavy on the pavement, when a final, pained shriek tore through the rain.
I stopped.
A raw pang of devastation hit my gut.
I couldn’t just stand by and let the poor thing be unlived.
Not on my watch.
I spun around and snatched a heavy stone from the gutter.
I threw it with everything I had.
It missed the dog, slamming into a metal trash can with a violent CLANG that echoed through the narrow alley like a gunshot.
The dogs scattered, startled by the sudden noise.
I ran to the corner, my chest heaving.
“I hate bullies,” I muttered, my eyes scanning the shadows for the pack’s return.
“Ganging up on the weak…
how cowardly can you get?”
The cat didn’t run.
It sat there, a scruffy black-and-white ball of fur, looking up at me with piercing amber eyes.
Its white-tipped tail twitched weakly against the wet brick.
I crouched down, reaching out a hand.
“Hey, what’s your name, little one?
You okay, buddy?”
The cat looked down at its bleeding paw, then back at me with a flat, judgmental stare that clearly said: Do I look okay, genius?
“Right.
Silly question.” I reached for it, my fingers brushing its damp fur.
“I need to get you inside before—” ” Grrrr”
Just before I finished the sentence, I was interrupted by the growls .
Louder.
Multiplied.
I looked up.
The pack was back, and they’d brought reinforcements.
Eight dogs in total now blocked the path back to my estate, their eyes reflecting the dim neon glow from the street above.
They were flanking us, cutting off the escape.
“Change of strategy,” I whispered, my voice dropping into a low, focused tone as I scooped the cat against my chest.
I felt its tiny heart racing against my ribs.
“We run!”
I bolted.
My lungs burned, each breath tasting of wet iron and exhaust.
I didn’t look back, but the rhythmic slap-slap-slap of paws on wet pavement told me the pack was inches from my heels.
I wasn’t thinking about the drive or the empire anymore.
My world had narrowed down to the frantic, tiny heartbeat racing against my ribs.
I burst from the shadows of the alley, my sneakers skidding on the slick curb as I hit the main road.
I was halfway across the asphalt when the world turned white.
My body went numb.
The twin suns of a truck’s headlights consumed the darkness, expanding until they were all I could see.
I was two meters away from death by the speeding demon..
The distance between a “Pro” life and a “Game Over.” The screech of tires was a death knell—a high-pitched scream of rubber meeting rain.
It would’ve been a miracle to survive this.
Everything slowed to a crawl.
I saw the driver’s face through the windshield, his eyes wide, his hands white-knuckled on the wheel.
He looked just as helpless as I was.
“This is it,” my mind whispered, the voice sounding hollow and distant.
“Dying on my birthday…
How unlucky can you get ?”
The headlights weren’t just lights anymore; they were a wall of white fire, erasing the road, the rain, and the city.
My “gamer-focus” didn’t shut down—it went into overdrive, overclocking my brain until the world crawled into a agonizing slow-motion.
I looked down at the cat.
I could see the individual droplets of rain matted in its fur, shivering.
“Ten seconds”, I calculated, my heart hammering a frantic, uneven rhythm against my ribs.
“If I’d reacted ten seconds earlier…
My grip tightened around the small, warm body.
My arms felt like lead.
“Just maybe then, I’d have had a window.
I could have thrown her on the other side of the road .
She would have cleared this level.
She would have lived.”
I let out a shaky, jagged breath that turned to mist in the cold air.
The screech of the tires grew into a deafening roar, but in my head, it was quiet.
The realization settled in my gut like ice.
“I’m sorry, buddy,” I whispered, my voice barely a thread, cracking under the weight of the shadow looming over us.
“Looks like we’re going to die together.”
I didn’t try to dodge.
There was no time.
Instead, I just pulled her closer, tucking my chin over her head, I hunched my shoulders, curling my body into a protective shell around the fur ball in my arms.
I looked up one last time, seeing my own dark eyes reflected in the massive chrome grille of the ten-ton monster.
CRUNCH.
There was no cinematic slow motion.
Just the horrific, bone-shattering reality of impact.
I felt my heartbeat stutter, the cold of the rain being replaced by a spreading, heavy warmth.
Red began to tint the black asphalt.
My consciousness splintered.
The pain was a brief, blinding flash, followed by a cold, digital silence.
Then, my world went black.