Ego Check: The Game That Changes Everything Rewrite

The late-night glow of his monitor cast soft shadows on Raxian's face, his golden eyes reflecting the vivid colors of the victory screen before him. He didn't move. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, trembling slightly, as if the match stats might vanish if he so much as blinked.

Diamond IV.

The words gleamed on his profile, accompanied by the faint sparkle of the rank's icon. He stared at it, unblinking, his chest tight with a whirlwind of emotions. Relief. Pride. Disbelief. It was all there, swirling in his mind as he tried to process the fact that he'd finally done it.

The silence in his room was broken by the sudden cheer from his headset.

"YES! My boy!" Raze's voice crackled through his headphones, full of infectious energy. "You finally did it, man! You pulled yourself out of Emerald Hell! Welcome to the big boy's league!"

Raxian blinked, finally snapping out of his trance. A faint smile tugged at his lips, but he didn't match Raze's enthusiasm. His voice came out quieter than he expected, almost unsure.

"Yeah… I guess… I finally did it?"

Raze's laugh boomed through the headset. "What's with the question mark, bro? You should be hyped right now! This is HUGE!"

Raxian leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Yeah, it is. It's just… I don't know." He trailed off, searching for the right words. Normally, he'd be bouncing off the walls, calling everyone he knew to brag about his accomplishment. But now? The excitement was there, sure, but it wasn't consuming him like it might have in the past.

Maybe he really had changed.

The climb had been steady over the past few weeks. With his newfound mindset, Raxian approached each game with patience he hadn't known he was capable of before. Setbacks came, but they didn't crush him like they used to. Instead, he adapted, analyzing what went wrong and focusing on improving.

It wasn't easy, but it was worth it.

And now, here he was. Diamond IV. The rank he'd been chasing for what felt like forever. He'd finally made it. But instead of feeling like he was at the top of the world, all he could think about was how much he owed to the people who'd unknowingly helped him along the way.

Sable and AkarisLite.

The thought of them sent a strange mix of emotions through him. Their influence had changed him—there was no denying it. From Sable's calm, grounded demeanor to AkarisLite's unwavering skill and sportsmanship, they'd both left a mark on him. They'd pushed him to be better, even without realizing it.

But he wasn't about to get sentimental. That wasn't his style.

A notification popped up on his screen, drawing his attention.

Message from AkarisLite:

Congrats on Diamond, TimeWrapped. Knew you'd get there eventually.

Raxian stared at the message for a moment, a small smile creeping onto his face. He typed out a quick response.

TimeWrapped:

Thanks. Couldn't have done it without some of your stomps putting me in my place.

AkarisLite's reply came almost instantly.

AkarisLite:

LOL. Humility looks good on you. Keep it up—you've got the potential to go even higher.

Raxian chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. The old him might've bristled at the suggestion that he still had room to grow. But now? He welcomed it.

"Man, you're so calm about this," Raze's voice broke through his thoughts again. "I mean, I get it. You've been grinding for this forever, so maybe it hasn't hit you yet. But come on, Rax. Diamond! That's legendary!"

Raxian let out a short laugh. "I guess it just feels… different than I thought it would."

"Different how?"

He paused, thinking it over. "Like, I don't know… it's not just about hitting the rank anymore. It's about… the process, I guess? Everything I learned along the way. That's what got me here."

Raze let out a low whistle. "Damn. Who are you, and what did you do with the Raxian I know?"

Raxian smirked. "Still me. Just… less of an idiot, maybe."

"Hey, if it works, it works. Proud of you, man."

The genuine warmth in Raze's voice caught Raxian off guard. He wasn't used to this kind of praise—at least, not the kind that didn't come with a teasing jab. But it felt… nice.

As the conversation with Raze wound down and the adrenaline of the game faded, Raxian sat back in his chair, letting the moment sink in. He'd done it. After all the frustration, the setbacks, the self-doubt—he'd made it to Diamond.

And yet, he knew this was just the beginning.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could see the bigger picture. League wasn't just about winning or proving himself to others anymore. It was about the journey, the growth, the connections he'd made along the way.

Raxian glanced at the clock. It was late, but he wasn't tired. The excitement still buzzed faintly in his chest, a quiet reminder of how far he'd come.

He opened the chat with AkarisLite again, typing out one last message before logging off.

TimeWrapped:

You were right. This is just the start.

With that, he shut down his computer and stretched, a small, satisfied smile on his face. Tomorrow was a new day—a new chance to keep climbing, not just in ranks, but in everything else, too.

—--------------------------------------------------------

School still wasn't Raxian's favorite place—it never had been—but the companionship of his friends made it bearable. Their banter, the inside jokes, even their relentless teasing—it all made the monotony of the day feel a little lighter. Today, though, he had something to look forward to.

For once, he'd taken them up on their offer. After weeks of brushing them off, Raxian had agreed to hit the arcade with them after school. The decision felt almost impulsive, but maybe that's what he needed—a break from the grind.

When they arrived at the arcade, the neon lights cast vibrant colors over the group as they dove into the chaos of games and prizes. As they moved from claw machines to racing games to air hockey, Raxian decided it was the perfect time to share his news.

"By the way," he said, a casual grin spreading across his face. "I finally did it. I'm out of Emerald."

The reaction was immediate.

"No way!" one of his friends exclaimed, their voice almost drowned out by the din of the arcade.

"Diamond?" another asked, their jaw dropping in mock disbelief.

"Yup," Raxian said, his tone almost too calm, but the smirk on his face gave him away.

His friends burst into cheers, teasing remarks flying left and right.

"Took you long enough!"

"Guess miracles really do happen!"

"Does this mean you're actually good at the game now?"

"Shut up," Raxian said, rolling his eyes, but there was no heat behind it. Their excitement was infectious, and he couldn't help but laugh along with them.

One of his friends clapped him on the back. "Don't worry about the arcade coins today—it's on us. Consider it a celebration."

The group spent hours bouncing between games, their competitive spirits flaring as they tried to outscore each other. Raxian even managed to snag a few wins at the racing games, his reflexes honed from countless hours on the Rift.

—--------------------------------------------------------

By the time they left the arcade, the sky had turned a deep shade of blue, the first stars beginning to peek through. Someone suggested grabbing a bite to eat, and the group headed to their favorite diner, a small retro spot tucked into a quiet corner of the city.

Sliding into the red leather booths, Raxian felt a sense of ease he hadn't felt in a while. When the server came around, he didn't even have to look at the menu.

"Loaded cheeseburger with fries," he said, leaning back against the booth. It had been a while since he'd indulged in junk food, and just the thought of it made his stomach rumble.

When the food arrived, the aroma hit him first—the smoky scent of grilled beef, the sweetness of caramelized onions, the tang of pickles and sauce. He picked up the burger, the layers of toppings threatening to spill out, and took a bite. The burst of flavors hit all at once, and he couldn't help but let out a satisfied sigh.

It wasn't just the food—it was the moment. The laughter of his friends, the clink of glasses as they toasted his climb to Diamond, the warm buzz of camaraderie. It all felt... right.

"Man, I could get used to this," one of his friends said, shoving a handful of fries into their mouth.

Raxian smirked. "Don't. Next time, you're all paying."

The table erupted in laughter, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Raxian wasn't thinking about the next game, the next rank, or the pressure to prove himself. He was just here, enjoying the moment.

And for now, that was enough.

—--------------------------------------------------------

The weekend shift at Bloom & Co. had been slow so far. Fayne worked alone today—her mom had stepped out to handle errands, leaving her in charge of the small but cozy shop. She enjoyed the quiet moments, surrounded by flowers and the soft hum of the shop's air conditioning. It gave her time to think—or more accurately, to overthink.

Her mind drifted, as it often did, to Raxian. Lately, he seemed so different, so content. It was almost unrecognizable compared to the hot-headed, competitive person she was used to seeing. Fayne wasn't one to dwell on other people's lives, but she couldn't help herself this time. What had caused this change? And why did she even care so much?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the chime of the doorbell, signaling a customer's arrival. "I'm coming!" she called, emerging from the backroom and adjusting her apron.

As she stepped into the storefront, her eyes landed on the customer, and her pace faltered. It was him. The man from the park that evening—the one who'd been smoking and talking about Raxian. His striking appearance was hard to forget, especially with that messy, dark hair streaked with shades of blue and green that stuck out in every direction. She quickly masked her surprise, treating him like any other customer.

"Welcome," she said politely, her professional tone disguising her curiosity.

He didn't seem to notice her initial reaction. Instead, he glanced around the shop with an air of uncertainty, like he didn't quite know what he was looking for. His outfit was just as chaotic as his hair—worn jeans with frayed, ripped knees, an oversized, brightly colored jacket with clashing patterns, and a graphic t-shirt underneath that screamed bold branding. The faint scent of cigarette smoke lingered in the air around him, clinging to his clothes.

"I'm, uh… looking for a bouquet," he said, his tone casual but a little awkward.

Fayne tilted her head slightly, intrigued but keeping her expression neutral. "Do you have something specific in mind? Colors, maybe?"

He paused, his eyes darting to the display of flowers before him. "Yeah. Yellow and blue. Something bright, I guess."

She nodded, not prying further. It wasn't her business to ask why he wanted those colors, though the combination intrigued her. As she worked to wrap up a bouquet, she couldn't help but steal glances at him. He looked... out of place, like someone who didn't frequent flower shops. But there was something about him that intrigued her—his confidence, his unbothered demeanor, the way he carried himself even in his mismatched attire.

Once the bouquet was finished, she handed it to him with a polite smile. "Here you go. I hope it works for what you have in mind."

He took it, examining the flowers with a small nod of approval. "Thanks."

As he turned to leave, he paused in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame. "Oh, yeah," he said, his tone shifting slightly, "you're Fayne, right?"

Her heart skipped. How did he know her name? And more importantly, how did he know who she was? She blinked, masking her surprise with feigned nonchalance. "Who's asking?"

The man smirked faintly, straightening up as he shifted the bouquet to one hand. "Raze," he said simply, his green eyes meeting hers. "I'm an old gaming buddy of Raxian's. That boy... well, let's just say he's mentioned you from time to time."

Fayne's thoughts raced. Raxian had talked about her? Despite the fact that they hardly interacted? Her gaze lingered on Raze, studying him for any hint of what he meant. "Oh," was all she managed to say.

Raze chuckled lightly, seeming amused by her reaction. "Not many people have silver-dyed hair, you know. Putting two and two together wasn't hard. You're both the same age, in the same class... and I heard you worked in a flower shop. It's nice to finally meet you, Fayne."

The pieces fell into place. He must've gotten all that information from Raxian, but why would Raxian talk about her at all? She felt a spark of intrigue but pushed it aside, keeping her composure. "Nice to meet you too, I guess," she replied cautiously.

Raze gave her a nod, his expression softening. "Anyways, take care, Fayne," he said as he stepped out of the shop.

She stood frozen for a moment, watching him through the window as he walked away, his colorful jacket catching the sunlight. Her mind spun with unanswered questions. Raxian had mentioned her to someone he clearly trusted—a friend from his gaming world. But why? And what exactly had he said?

Another mystery about Raxian had surfaced, one that Fayne couldn't stop herself from wondering about. Something about Raze's presence, his casual demeanor, and his connection to Raxian left her feeling... intrigued.

And, deep down, she couldn't deny it—she wanted to know more.

—--------------------------------------------------------

League of Legends wasn't just a game—it seemed to come with unexpected connections, twists, and turns. Fayne had stayed off it for the longest time, thinking it wasn't something that would catch her interest. But seeing how it had affected Raxian—how it had practically turned his world upside down—she couldn't help but grow curious. What was it about this game that pulled people in so deeply?

By the time she got home that evening, curiosity had won. She found herself on the League homepage, hesitating only briefly before clicking the Create Account button. Now came the tricky part—what to name herself?

She mulled it over for a while, searching for something meaningful yet unique. Eventually, she settled on "BlossomWisp." It wasn't exactly the most competitive-sounding name, but she liked it. Blossom represented her connection to flowers, and Wisp… well, as a child, she used to write stories about ethereal spirit-like beings called wisps. They'd always fascinated her—a remembrance of those who had once lived, preserving their memory in delicate, glowing form. The name felt right.

Once her account was created, Fayne downloaded the game. It felt daunting at first, the client filling her screen with options and unfamiliar terms. Still, she wanted to see what all the hype was about. She started with the practice mode to grasp the basics. One game led to another, and slowly, she began piecing things together. It wasn't as impossible as she thought—though definitely overwhelming at times.

Having dabbled in flash games growing up, she wasn't completely new to gaming, but League was a different beast entirely. The controls required adjustment: Q, W, E, R for abilities, D and F for summoner spells, and the number keys for items. She'd have to move with the mouse, something that felt awkward at first, but she was determined.

She spent a while tinkering with the settings, adjusting the camera speed and mouse sensitivity until they felt comfortable. After experimenting with practice matches and tutorials, she thought she had a setup she could work with.

Finally, Fayne decided to try her first real game. The menu offered two options for normals: Draft Pick or Blind Pick. She wasn't sure what either meant, but she clicked Blind Pick, figuring it would be the simpler choice.

The moment she entered the lobby, chaos erupted in the chat:

"Bot pre!"

"Top!"

"Mid or feed!"

It took her a moment to realize what was happening—everyone was calling out their roles. But by the time she understood, the remaining option was jungle.

Fayne hesitated. Jungle? Milo was a jungle main, and she'd watched him play countless times before. How hard could it be? With no other choice, she typed, "I'll jungle."

Next came picking a champion. She had no idea what most of them did, let alone which were good for jungle. Thankfully, she remembered Milo mentioning that Rammus was an easy jungler to start with. He happened to be part of the free rotation this week, so she locked him in.

Now for runes and summoner spells. She had no clue what to do here either, so she used a pre-built rune page. As for summoner spells, she hadn't unlocked all of them yet. She selected Smite—because Milo always said it was essential for junglers—and Heal, thinking it might come in handy for saving her teammates during ganks.

The chat lit up with confusion and criticism:

"Heal jungle? You serious?"

"No flash? GG already."

Her stomach sank, but there was no turning back now. She gritted her teeth and hoped for the best as the loading screen appeared, showcasing her team's champions.

The game began, and Fayne guided her little armadillo, Rammus, out of the fountain. She'd seen Milo start with the blue buff in the jungle, so she did the same, buying Hunter's Talisman and a few health potions before waddling toward the camp.

As the monster spawned, she clicked on it nervously. Rammus began attacking, but the buff hit back hard. Her health plummeted as she scrambled to use her abilities, figuring out on the fly what they did. W turned Rammus into a tanky ball, while Q made him roll into a spinning missile. By the time she finally smited the buff, her health bar was dangerously low, and she had no clue where to go next.

Her teammates started pinging the map, demanding ganks in their lanes. The midlaner typed, "Jungle, come mid!" Fayne gulped and headed toward the mid lane, her health still not fully recovered. The enemy Zed was pushed up near her tower, so she pinged her intention and rolled in with her Q, hoping for the best.

It was a disaster.

Zed easily dodged her charge, turning on her instead. Within seconds, Rammus was shredded, forcing Fayne to retreat under the tower with her tail—literally—between her legs.

"OMG noob jungle," her midlaner typed. "Learn to gank."

The harshness stung, but Fayne wasn't ready to give up. She trudged back into the jungle, determined to figure things out. Slowly, she started to get the hang of it—learning how to kite jungle camps, plan her path, and look for better gank opportunities. She even managed to pull off a successful gank on the bot lane, helping secure a kill.

By the end of the game, despite her rocky start, Fayne felt a small sense of accomplishment. The team lost, but she'd stuck it out, learned a lot, and even earned a compliment from one teammate:

"Decent Rammus ganks late game. You'll get there."

She leaned back in her chair, exhaling deeply. League wasn't as straightforward as she'd imagined, but it was undeniably thrilling. She could see why it had such a grip on people—why it had pulled Raxian in so deeply.

Glancing at her summoner name on the screen—BlossomWisp—Fayne smiled faintly. There was still a long way to go, but she was ready for the challenge.

—--------------------------------------------------------

During the following weeks, Fayne delved deeper into the game, experimenting with different roles and champions. Each match felt like a crash course in League mechanics, and while she enjoyed the challenge, some roles left her overwhelmed. Midlane felt too center focused, jungle too stressful with constant map awareness, and top lane was just… lonely. But there was one role that stood out to her—support.

It felt safer.

As a support, she wasn't alone in the lane. She could rely on her ADC, or so she thought. She liked the idea of being a helper, someone who could keep others alive and set up plays. But that illusion of safety shattered quickly.

Her first attempts were rocky, to say the least. Every mistake seemed to snowball, and when things went wrong, it wasn't just the enemy bot lane that crushed her—it was her ADC's venomous rage.

"You're useless!"

"Why did you miss that stun?"

"Rep sup!"

The chat was brutal, flooding with blame as if she was the sole reason for every bad play. It caught her off guard—she was clearly a new player. Her level was right there for everyone to see in Blind Pick, yet they didn't care. She wondered if these people could ever fathom a bit of patience, but apparently, they couldn't.

Fayne quickly realized that League's community was as harsh as its gameplay. Did people really get this butt hurt over a game? she thought, shaking her head in disbelief. The negativity stung, but Fayne wasn't ready to give up. She refused to let strangers on the internet ruin her experience.

As the weeks went on, she adjusted. Slowly but surely, she started figuring out how to better work with her ADCs. She learned the delicate balance of protecting them without overextending herself, the timing of stuns and heals, and how to ward effectively to give their lane better vision.

Still, the toxicity lingered. Every missed opportunity, every slight misstep—it felt like her ADCs were lying in wait to pounce with a barrage of insults. She told herself she could handle it, but deep down, it grated on her nerves.

But not every game was bad.

One evening, she managed to land a perfect stun during a critical moment in lane, locking down both enemies and setting up her ADC for a double kill. "Nice stun, support," her ADC typed in chat.

Fayne blinked, staring at the screen as if she'd misread the words. A compliment? From her ADC? She almost didn't believe it. After weeks of insults and flaming, it felt… unreal.

That small, rare moment of acknowledgment pushed her forward. Slowly, she began experimenting with her playstyle, growing bolder. She learned to predict her enemies' movements, positioning herself just right to land skill shots or body block for her ADC. Her confidence grew bit by bit, and for the first time, she started to enjoy herself.

She was learning. She was improving. And for now, that was enough.

—--------------------------------------------------------

At some point, Fayne thought she could make use of her connections. Milo was a professional League coach, wasn't he? Sure, he was probably busy with his clients like usual, but maybe he could squeeze in a practice game with her. She'd never know if she didn't ask.

When she messaged him about it, Milo's initial reaction was a mix of surprise and hesitation. "You've been playing League?" he typed back, disbelief laced in his words. Fayne could almost hear his skeptical tone through the screen. But after a moment, his response shifted: "Alright. Let's see what you've got."

She exhaled in relief. He had agreed. Maybe this would help her learn faster—or at least give her a chance to see where she stood.

They loaded up a custom game together, and Fayne's nerves kicked in. Playing against Milo? That was terrifying in itself. She knew his skill level was on another plane entirely—he wasn't just good, he was exceptional. His primary role was jungle, but he had an uncanny grasp of every champion and role in the game. She felt like a preschooler about to compete against a seasoned professional.

When she locked in Seraphine, her comfort pick, Milo paused for a moment. Seraphine was relatively straightforward to learn, but much harder to master. A utility mage who could flex between support, mid, or even bot, she was a good choice for beginners and veterans alike. Milo saw no problem with her choice—it was solid, after all.

For himself, though… he debated for a moment. Should he crush her outright to teach her a lesson? No, that wasn't his style. He wanted her to learn, not quit out of frustration. Besides, her pick gave him an idea.

Lux.

He hovered over her portrait, a small smile tugging at his lips. If Fayne wanted to lean into the mage aesthetic, he'd match it. Lux was another utility mage with a simpler kit, perfect for a controlled and educational sparring session. Plus, their styles were similar enough that he could push her to think strategically while still having fun.

The timer ticked down, and he locked her in.

As they entered the Rift, Fayne's nerves doubled. Playing against Milo wasn't just intimidating—it was downright terrifying. She gripped her mouse tighter, her heart racing as she spawned in the base. She knew Milo wasn't going to go easy on her, and that thought alone made her palms sweat.

"Alright, BlossomWisp," Milo said over voice chat, his tone teasing yet firm. "Let's see what you've learned. No pressure, though—just try to keep up."

Fayne swallowed hard. Just keep up? That was easier said than done. But she wouldn't back down. Not now.

She took a deep breath, her fingers brushing the keys as the minions started spawning. "Bring it on," she replied, though her voice wavered slightly.

The match was about to begin.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Needless to say, Fayne couldn't match Milo at all. Not even a little bit. The difference in skill between them was almost comical. From the very start of the game, it became apparent just how far out of her league he was.

But what really threw her off was the way Milo moved. Why was he moving like that? His Lux was constantly darting back and forth, side to side, as though she was dancing across the lane. It wasn't just flashy—it was purposeful. Every movement he made seemed to serve a hidden strategy.

Fayne frowned as she tried to land a poke with her Q, the round, wide projectile Seraphine relied on to deal damage. It wasn't hard to aim; it felt forgiving compared to other skill shots she'd used before. But no matter how much she adjusted her aim, Milo always managed to sidestep it. He didn't just dodge—he predicted her every move. Every time she threw out an ability, it felt like he was already three steps ahead of her.

"Why… are you moving like that?" she blurted out in frustration over voice chat. "It's like you're constantly bouncing around!"

Milo chuckled lightly, his tone calm and analytical as always. "It's called orb walking," he said. "You can't just stand still in lane, Fayne. That makes you an easy target. Watch your opponent and move between every auto attack or ability. If you're always moving, you're harder to predict—and harder to hit."

She blinked, processing his words. Orb walking? That sounded complicated. But watching Milo in action, it made sense. He wasn't just dodging her abilities—he was positioning himself to pressure her, staying out of range of her attacks while preparing his own. It was all so deliberate, so precise, and she had no idea how to keep up with it.

Her next attempt to poke him was another Q, but Milo sidestepped again with ease, his Lux weaving just out of its path before sending a blinding E in her direction. The glowing orb exploded at her feet, slowing her and forcing her back toward her tower.

"You're tunnel-visioning," Milo pointed out, his tone neutral but firm. "You're focusing so much on hitting me that you're ignoring everything else—the minions, your positioning, your mana. You can't just spam abilities and hope for the best. You've got to plan ahead."

Fayne let out a frustrated sigh, her hands tightening around her mouse. "How am I supposed to do all that at once?" she muttered, feeling overwhelmed.

"It's not something you'll get right away," Milo said, his voice softening slightly. "It takes practice. A lot of it. Just focus on one thing at a time. Start by watching how I move—when I step forward, when I back off. Pay attention to the patterns."

Patterns? To her, Milo's movements seemed completely random, but she trusted his advice. She narrowed her eyes, trying to analyze his Lux as he continued to dominate the lane with effortless precision.

For the rest of the game, Fayne struggled to keep up. Milo's understanding of the game was light-years ahead of hers, and every attempt she made to turn the tide only highlighted the gap between them. But she didn't give up. Even as he landed ability after ability, shutting her down at every turn, she kept trying, determined to learn from the experience.

By the time the match ended, the score was predictably one-sided, but Milo didn't gloat. Instead, he offered her a calm assessment of her performance.

"You've got potential," he said. "Your instincts aren't bad—you just need to stop rushing and start thinking ahead. Watch your opponent, learn their patterns, and plan your moves accordingly. The rest will come with time."

Fayne let out a small laugh, still feeling a little defeated but also strangely encouraged. "Easy for you to say. You make it look effortless."

"That's because I've been doing this for years," Milo replied. "But you'll get there. Just don't expect to master it overnight. League is all about patience."

Patience. Fayne wasn't sure how much she had, but she wasn't ready to give up yet. If Milo believed she could improve, then maybe she could. All she had to do was keep trying.