Eggsterr leaned forward in his chair, completely silent as the crowd roared around him. The stage lights reflected faintly off his eyes, but he never looked away from the monitor. His breathing had slowed. Too slow. Like everything around him had fallen behind while his mind kept accelerating.
P0ppin looked across for a second. “You locked in?”
Eggsterr flexed his fingers against the mousepad. They were trembling slightly now.
“No,” he replied quietly. “Not yet.”
Then he hovered Yoru.
The entire arena felt different after that. Every player on stage could feel it immediately, even if they couldn’t explain why. Eggsterr wasn’t playing normally anymore. He wasn’t clearing angles, he was arriving at them before anyone else could even think to hold them. Every teleport looked pre-planned thirty seconds in advance. Every fake clone forced panic shots out of players who swore they never panic. It stopped looking like prediction and started looking like inevitability.
The observers could barely keep up. One second he was anchoring site, the next he was already behind the enemy team before the replay even caught how he got there. Smokes faded at the perfect moment for him. Rotations walked directly into him. Crosshair placement didn’t matter because somehow he was already aiming where the enemy would be.
Round after round, the crowd got quieter.
Not because the game was boring.
Because nobody understood what they were watching anymore.
P0ppin turned again between rounds, half laughing, half stunned. “Bro… what are you doing?”
Eggsterr finally smiled.
“For my last game?” he murmured. “Everything.”
And Eggsterr stopped looking human entirely.
13-1
edit: 13-4
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