Chapter 1

The glow of the monitor was the only light in Maya' s cramped Brooklyn apartment.

"Chronicles of Eldoria" filled the screen, a vibrant world of magic and monsters.

It was more home than this tiny room.

Tonight, the game buzzed with news.

A new expansion, a server-wide tournament.

Cash prizes, epic glory.

Every major guild wanted in.

The forums were wild, gossip flying like spells.

"Lionheart' s gotta take this one for The Crimson Vanguard."

"Yeah, but can they? They' ve been a bit shaky lately."

"He needs a solid team, no weak links."

This talk made Maya' s stomach tighten.

She, or rather "Sparrow," her in-game persona, was on Lionheart' s main raid team.

A Loremaster, support class.

Two years she' d been a quiet, reliable core member.

Sparrow wasn' t flashy.

Her avatar was plain, default face, drab common gear.

Maya designed her that way, to be invisible.

It was a stark contrast to the game' s system, where players flaunted custom skins and rare armor.

Most top players looked like gods. Sparrow looked like a peasant.

This "flaw" was intentional.

Years ago, a short story Maya posted online got attention.

Too much attention.

A stalker followed, a terrifying ordeal.

It left her intensely private, anxious about her appearance, even though she was striking, unique.

She hid her face, her talent.

Now, her writing lived only on anonymous forums.

Eldoria was her escape, a place her looks didn't matter.

She just wanted to play, use her strategic mind, and be left alone.

Lex "Lionheart" Miller, leader of The Crimson Vanguard, was the opposite.

His Paladin avatar was magnificent, gleaming in the best cosmetic armor, a mirror of his handsome, charismatic real-life self.

He loved the spotlight, the public face of his guild.

He was a lead programmer in Austin, successful, outgoing.

The tournament was his chance to shine brighter.

Maya respected Lex's skill as a leader, the way he organized raids.

She felt a quiet loyalty to the Vanguard, the closest thing to a community she had.

It wasn't love, not really, but a deep appreciation for the structure he provided.

A space where her skills, at least, were valued.

Lex, however, rarely saw past Sparrow' s drab exterior.

"Good buffs, Sparrow," he' d say sometimes, a quick, distracted comment.

He appreciated her skill, sure, but he often overlooked her for more "charismatic" players, the ones with flashy gear and loud personalities.

Tonight, during a pre-raid briefing in the guild hall, his voice boomed through her headphones.

"Team, about this tournament. We need to be smart. We need to be strong. And," he paused, "we need to be visible. The streams will be huge."

Maya felt a familiar chill.

Sparrow continued her duties, meticulously buffing the tanks, debuffing the practice dummy.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard, executing complex skill rotations.

She hoped her flawless play would be enough, that her contribution would speak for itself.

She wanted the Vanguard to win, to be part of that victory.

Then Lex dropped the bomb, not a direct hit, but close enough to shake her.

"We need players who pop on camera, you know? Players who can engage with an audience."

He didn't look at Sparrow's avatar, but his words hung in the digital air.

Other guild members started chattering.

"Yeah, like Starfire! She's coming back, right? She'd be great for streams."

Starfire. A Sorceress known for a highly sexualized, "perfected" avatar.

Maya' s heart sank. The raid spot, her spot, felt suddenly precarious.

This was the start of something bad. She could feel it.