November 6, 2037
The harsh blue glow of Aiden's phone screen illuminated his face in the pre-dawn darkness, casting stark shadows across his hollow cheeks. "-$100.00," read the transaction confirmation. Rent paid. His remaining balance: $317.
Less than a third of what I need for one pod...
Aiden collapsed back onto his thin mattress, letting the phone drop beside him. The ceiling above him was cracked in three places—he'd counted them countless times during sleepless nights. The euphoria of their tournament victory had evaporated like morning dew under a merciless sun, leaving only the parched reality of their situation.
He closed his eyes, but that only made it worse. Immediately, his mother's face appeared—pale, unmoving, surrounded by the sterile white of hospital sheets and the rhythmic beeping of machines that had become the soundtrack to his guilt. His chest tightened.
I have to make this work. For her. For Lily. For all of us.
The familiar ping of his team chat pulled him back from the edge of despair.
Marcus: Morning, everyone. Grinding starts now.
Elena: Ready when you are. Streaming test went well enough.
Sophia: I've been reviewing some advanced healing strategies. There's a lot of potential synergy between a strong tank and an oracle-type build.
Liam: Peripherals sold. $23 profit. Small but steady.
Aiden's lips curved into a faint smile despite himself. They were all in—all fighting alongside him. He wasn't alone in this impossible battle. His fingers moved across the screen, finding strength he didn't know he still possessed.
Aiden: Okay, here's the plan. We focus our League of the Ancient betting and streaming on matches that highlight our Eternal Realms team comp. Marcus, you're on point for aggressive pushes, drawing all the heat. Elena, you provide ranged control and zone denial. Sophia, you keep us alive through it all. Liam, you create the diversions, the openings we need. I'll direct the overall strategy, both in-game and for the stream.
...
The days blurred together into a relentless rhythm—a symphony of obligation, determination, and exhaustion.
Dawn found Aiden stocking shelves at the convenience store, fingers numb with cold from the refrigerated section, mind already calculating gold-to-dollar conversion rates. Afternoon saw him hunched over textbooks with Lily, her earnest questions about cellular biology a welcome reprieve from his own worries. And night... night belonged to the Golden Mouse.
The café had become their battlefield, their training ground, their sanctuary. The familiar symphony of sounds—clicking keyboards, shouted commands, the hiss of energy drink cans being opened—wrapped around Aiden like a well-worn blanket as he settled into his usual spot. The lingering aroma of instant ramen and the faint tang of ozone from overheated hardware felt more like home than his apartment ever did.
In the arena of League of the Ancient, they transformed into something greater than themselves.
Marcus, usually soft-spoken and gentle despite his imposing frame, became a commanding presence, his voice dropping an octave as he directed his shield-bearing champion into the fray.
"Stand behind me!" he bellowed, eyes narrowed with intensity as enemy spells shattered against his defenses. In those moments, Aiden could see the future Guardian he would become—not just a tank, but a protector, someone who understood that strength existed to shield others.
Elena, with her practiced poise that even poverty couldn't diminish, dominated the mid-range. Her slender fingers danced across the keyboard with aristocratic precision, each perfect combo accompanied by a small, satisfied smile that rarely appeared outside of gaming.
"Calculated," she murmured after sniping an enemy champion through an impossibly narrow gap. When a particularly difficult match ended in their favor, she allowed herself a moment of unguarded joy, pumping her fist in the air.
"That's how it's done!" she exclaimed, her competitive trash-talk becoming a fan favorite in the steadily growing stream chat.
Sophia, maintained her calming presence even in the most chaotic team fights. Her eyes never left her screen, her breathing remained steady, her hands moved with the precise confidence of someone who had made life-or-death decisions before.
"Marcus, falling to critical," she called out, her voice never rising above conversation level despite the tension. "Healing surge in three... two... one..." Her timing was always perfect—a split second before it was needed, never a moment wasted.
Liam, reflected his real-life persona—quiet, observant, striking only when opportunity presented itself. He rarely spoke during matches, but his actions spoke volumes. His champion danced through enemy lines with deadly grace, each successful assassination a poem written in digital blood.
"Silent killer strikes again," whispered one of the Golden Mouse regulars in awe, watching Liam's character melt back into the shadows after a triple kill. "It's like he can see through walls."
And Aiden, orchestrated it all. His voice, calm and measured despite the exhaustion pulling at his edges, directed the flow of battle like a conductor guiding a symphony.
"Elena, they're rotating bot in fifteen seconds," he would say, eyes scanning the mini-map. "Liam, prepare to counter-gank. Sophia, save your cleanse for Marcus. They'll try to lock him down."
...
Their recent tournament victory had attracted attention—the underdog story of five struggling gamers who had toppled a professional team through sheer strategy and teamwork. Old Man Jo had been right; people were interested in their journey, their chemistry, their approach to the game.
Their first stream had been awkward, technical issues plaguing the first hour until Elena, surprisingly tech-savvy, had sorted out the settings. The viewer count had peaked at a modest 143, with a surprising $8.75 in donations. By the end of the week, they were consistently hitting 1000+ concurrent viewers with $25-50 per session.
Small change in the wider streaming world, but each dollar represented hope—another step toward the seemingly impossible $1,199 goal.
"Ten bucks from GamerGirl426," Elena announced during a break between matches, her eyes brightening as she read the message. "'Loving the team coordination. Keep it up!'"
"That puts us at $470 total streaming revenue this week," Liam calculated instantly, his mind a ledger of precise numbers. "Plus $680 from our League betting pool. We're making progress, but..."
But still a long way to go. The unspoken truth hung in the air between them.
...
[LIVE STREAMING]
[Game: League of the Ancient]
[Viewers: 1,247]
The stream interface flickered to life on thousands of screens across the city. Aiden's face, illuminated by the glow of his monitor, appeared in the corner, his voice slightly hoarse but filled with a confidence that only emerged when he was strategizing.
"Alright, chat, welcome back to Architect's Analysis. We're up against Iron Fangs again..."
As he spoke, explaining their counter to the opposing team's aggressive "dive" composition, Aiden felt a strange dichotomy. Here, in this digital arena, he was the Legendary Architect—respected, valued, confident. His mind was sharp, his plans executed with precision. In the real world, he was just Aiden Kim—dropout, minimum-wage worker, a boy drowning in medical bills and responsibility.
Which version was more real? Sometimes, he wasn't sure anymore.
The chat window filled with messages, a cascade of support and excitement:
XxFuzzyPandaX: "Let's go, Architects! I put my gold on you guys again!"
ShadowBlade77: "That new mage build is OP, Aiden!"
TacticalTyrant: "Sophia's heals are clutch. Best Oracle NA."
A small smile tugged at Aiden's lips. "Thanks, guys. Yeah, Sophia's been carrying us. Her positioning and timing are impeccable. But watch Marcus here, he's about to show us how to properly zone a point."
On screen, Marcus's heavily armored champion advanced, shield raised high, drawing the enemy team's attention like a magnet.
"Come get some!" Marcus roared into his microphone, his in-game persona fully embraced. "You want the point? Come through me!"
Elena's voice cut in, cool and focused: "I've got eyes on their mage. Going for a flank."
Aiden's heartbeat quickened as he watched the pieces of his strategy falling into place. This was what he lived for—not just the victory, but the perfect execution of a plan, the dance of five minds working in perfect harmony.
"Elena's going for a flank, as you can see," he explained to the viewers, excitement creeping into his voice despite his exhaustion. "This is a high-risk, high-reward play. If she can take out their mage, it'll completely disrupt their damage output. But if she gets caught out of position..."
The camera followed Elena's champion as she stealthily maneuvered through the shadows, her elemental arrows crackling with energy.
Liam's quiet voice, rarely heard on stream, broke in: "Opening on their carry. Three... two... one... go!"
"And Liam strikes!" Aiden narrated, a genuine grin spreading across his face. "Perfect timing, drawing their attention away from Elena. This is the synergy we've been working on, folks. This is what wins games."
The battle erupted in a carefully choreographed chaos—Marcus holding the line with unbreakable determination, Elena raining precision destruction from the flanks, Liam dancing through enemy lines like a ghost, and Sophia's healing magic keeping them all alive against impossible odds.
"Marcus, critical!" Sophia called out, her voice steady despite the pressure. "Healing surge in three... two... one..."
A golden light enveloped Marcus's champion, pulling him back from the brink of defeat just as three enemy ultimates crashed against his shield.
"And there's the heal!" Aiden exclaimed, genuine admiration in his voice. "Textbook timing from Sophia. That's why she's the best, folks. She keeps us in the fight, no matter what."
The battle raged on, minutes stretching into an eternity of split-second decisions and perfectly timed abilities. When victory finally came, it wasn't just a win—it was a testament to everything they were building together.
[System]: Victory! Architects of Destiny won!
"And that's game!" Aiden announced, unable to hide the pride in his voice. "Another win for the Architects of Destiny. Thanks for watching, everyone. We'll be back tomorrow with more League action."
As the stream ended and the cameras turned off, Aiden leaned back in his chair, the familiar wave of exhaustion washing over him. The artificial energy of competition drained away, leaving behind the raw reality of their situation.
$1,199 per pod. Five pods needed. Pre-sales starting next week.
But as he looked around at his team—at Marcus's reliable strength, Elena's determined poise, Sophia's quiet wisdom, and Liam's watchful presence—he felt something unexpected cutting through the fatigue and anxiety.
Hope.
They were tired. They were stressed. Some days, they were running on nothing but cheap coffee and sheer stubbornness. But they were united—five broken pieces forming something whole. They were the Architects of Destiny, and with each hard-fought victory, each carefully calculated bet, each entertaining stream, they were building something more precious than any virtual kingdom.
They were building a future where they determined their own fate.
Maybe that's what it means to be an Architect, Aiden thought as he finally shut down his computer. Not just building structures, but building possibilities where none existed before.
He glanced at his phone—$12.35 in donations had come in during the final moments of the stream. Another tiny step forward. He added it to his mental tally and headed home, already planning tomorrow's strategies.
The grind continued. But for the first time in a long while, it felt like more than just survival.
It felt like the beginning of something extraordinary.