I stared at my computer screen. One word stood out in large letters: "Winner." Once again, I'd clinched the top spot. The fifth season of Astral Point was over, and my name was there, right at the top. Champion again, for the fifth time in a row.

I swiveled in my chair and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. Normally, a feeling of elation would fill my chest, a powerful satisfaction that made me want to jump up and cheer. But not this time. This time, it just felt... empty. There used to be a thrill to victories like this—a rush, knowing I could conquer every opponent with hard work and strategic thinking, all without spending a single cent.

Five seasons in a row I've held the champion's title in Astral Point, a game that combines strategy, quick reflexes, and adaptability. It's famously known as a 'pay-to-win' game, but I proved that a free-to-play player could still come out on top. All the tournament prizes I'd won, the perks that came with victory—they were enough to keep me there. With the winnings from just one tournament, I could buy the weapons or armor needed for the next season, without spending any real money. The game seemed to reward me with everything I needed to stay at the top.

But now, after five seasons? It feels different.

I remember the first season—I didn't even set out to win. Back then, I was just an ordinary player trying my luck in competition. But when I won that first time, the sensation was unforgettable; it got me hooked. In the second and third seasons, it felt like I was fighting for something. By the fourth season, I was starting to feel a bit worn out, but I still felt challenged to defend my title.

Now, with the fifth season over and me still in first place, there's no new feeling. That position has been mine so long that it's just routine. Being champion is no longer a goal; it's just a habit. I no longer feel a real challenge—just the pressure to maintain the same high standard. What's left is an empty pride, as if I'm going through the motions without any soul.

I think back to the early days of playing Astral Point—I was just a curious guy. I had no intention of becoming the best or being known. But over time, my skills grew, and people started noticing. They called me the "legendary free-to-play player." It was fun at first, but eventually... it began to feel like I was trapped. The praise and people's expectations added weight on my shoulders, forcing me to stay at the top, whether I enjoyed it or not.

This latest victory brings no change. Just the same repetition as last season, and the season before that. I glanced at the messages piling up on the screen, filled with congratulations from people in the game—some were fellow players, others were fans or people in awe of my achievements. But even those messages felt hollow. "Congratulations!" "You're amazing!" "Incredible, winning again without ever topping up!" Those words once made me smile, but now... they just make the emptiness feel even deeper.

A part of me wonders, "What am I actually looking for in this game? Do I just want to hold onto my title, or is there a bigger purpose?" In the beginning, I wanted to prove that skill could beat money. But as I kept winning, as I no longer needed to struggle the same way... that purpose faded.

I got up from my chair, pacing around my room. Posters from Astral Point events I'd competed in hung on the walls, along with virtual trophies from every tournament I'd won. I used to display these with pride, but now they just felt like a dusty collection with no real meaning.

Suddenly, I thought about quitting. Maybe this was the right time to step away, to find something new. But I knew that wouldn't be easy either. Astral Point had become a big part of my life, something I couldn't just walk away from without feeling lost. The bond was strong—maybe because of habit, maybe because of people's expectations, or maybe because of my own fear of the uncertainty outside this world.

I opened Astral Point's main menu and stared at the "Log Out" button in the corner of the screen. My hand hesitated as it hovered there. What would happen if I really quit? Fans would be disappointed, followers would lose their idol. But most importantly, I'd lose something that's become my identity. Without Astral Point, without the champion title, who am I?

The depth of these questions made me realize one thing—I needed to find a new challenge, something that would make my heart race again, that would make me feel alive. Maybe not in this game anymore, maybe somewhere else. I don't want to spend my life chasing empty victories, winning in an endless cycle that doesn't mean anything.

I took a deep breath and finally let my fingers press the "Log Out" button. For the first time in five seasons, I felt a bit of freedom, however small. Out there, maybe there's still a challenge that could truly excite me again. Maybe it's time to pursue something that's not just about titles or rankings but something that has a bigger purpose, something that brings real tension, desire, and hope.

I stood up, leaving my chair with a newfound sense of determination. Tonight, I'd go to sleep without the weight of hollow victories—and that felt better than I'd imagined.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

***

"Huh?"

When I opened my eyes—or at least, when I became aware—I wasn't in my room anymore. No bed, no computer desk, no screen, no phone sounds. Instead, I was floating… in a dark space that stretched out endlessly.

This wasn't ordinary darkness; it was like pure black, yet somehow, I could still see. My body felt light, not weightless exactly, but as if gravity had lost its grip on me. And right in front of me was something—a strange creature. Its form was hard to describe: tall, with deep blue, almost translucent skin and eyes that glimmered like stars. It stared at me, as though evaluating, deciding whether I was really here or just an illusion.

Before I could think further, the scene changed. Suddenly, I was surrounded by all sorts of creatures—creatures I recognized. They were like the monsters I'd fought in Astral Point. There was the "Sentinel Altaros," a giant the size of a building clad in gleaming armor and wielding an axe I'd always avoided with long-range attacks. Next to it was the "Wraith Seraphim," a ghostly human figure with large black wings, deadly to approach. They all looked... real. Or at least, incredibly lifelike, and they were here, right before me.

Without warning, a battle erupted around me. I watched these beings fight, attacking each other, launching deadly strikes I'd only seen on my computer screen. The movements were swift, intense, and every strike, every clash of weapons, echoed in my ears. None of them saw me; I was like an invisible spectator in the middle of a fierce war.

The attacks were close, too close. I could almost feel the heat from "Inferno Draco" as it roared, spewing flames toward a robotic army I recognized as the "Mecha Sovereign." The smell of burning metal and dust filled my lungs, making my chest tight. This must be a dream, I thought.

"This has to be a dream. But why does it feel so real?"

In fear, I tried to move, but my body felt only half-responsive here. When a black arrow flew toward me, I instinctively raised my hand to block it. But the arrow just passed through me, as if I weren't even there. Confused and anxious, I wondered—was I invisible here? Or… was I not really part of this world?

I glanced around, trying to make sense of it all. The battle raged on; I heard thundering sounds, explosions, and the screams of alien warriors as they fell one by one. No one seemed to notice me. They were all so focused on their fighting, ignoring everything else. I wasn't sure what was really happening, but one thing was clear—I knew all these creatures. This wasn't just my imagination. They were truly monsters from Astral Point.

The fighting continued endlessly, and I started to feel trapped, as if I had no choice but to keep watching. Time no longer felt real, as though I'd been there for hours. The fear that gripped me at first gradually turned into amazement, and strangely, even nostalgia. These monsters, these enemies I'd fought so many times in the game, looked alive here, as though they had a purpose beyond just being challenges in a game.

Then, suddenly, everything stopped. All the creatures, weapons, and lights vanished, leaving behind a silence and emptiness that felt so strange after all that chaos. I found myself alone again, floating in an endless void. Only the distant galaxy and twinkling stars remained, vast and silent. I felt as small as a speck of dust in the infinite universe.

The silence was soon broken by the arrival of another figure. In front of me, someone approached, moving slowly but deliberately. They wore a long white robe that glowed softly, with their face hidden beneath a hood covering almost their entire head. The light radiating from this figure felt different, like it held a calm that was hard to explain. They stopped a few steps in front of me, looking at me, though their face was obscured. I felt the weight of their gaze—or at least, a powerful presence from them.

"What's happening? Where am I?" I asked, my voice shaky with confusion and a hint of fear. But the figure stayed silent. They didn't answer, yet somehow, their silence felt like an answer in itself.

"You..." I gathered the courage to speak again. "Is this a dream?"

The figure in white lifted a hand, signaling me to be still. Slowly, they began to speak, their voice deep and calm, almost like a whisper that echoed within my mind.

"Welcome to Astral Point, Player 'UwoghCunny123.' I am the Administrator," they said, without offering any further explanation. "The battle you just witnessed is not fantasy or a game. It's the reality of a world you've only known as a game."

I stood there, stunned, trying to process their words. So… this is real? Those monsters, those creatures I'd fought all this time, they truly exist?

"You've watched and participated in these battles for five seasons, even though you didn't realize it," the Administrator continued. "With each victory and each loss, you became part of this world. And now, you're here, seeing it all firsthand."

"Why me? What does this mean?"

"Because you have reached the pinnacle," they replied softly. "Through your victories, you've shown a unique potential. You possess determination, a will to grow, without relying on outside help. That's what brought you here."

I tried to take in their words, but it felt too strange to believe. This world is real, and I'm… invited to see it?

"What happens now?" I asked, still feeling both confused and a bit frightened. "Will I… stay here?"

The figure in white didn't answer right away. They simply looked at me calmly, as if assessing something. Then, in a voice soft yet clear, they said, "That depends on your choice. You can return to your world and continue life as usual, or you can take a step further and explore this world, which you've only known through a screen."

"What happens if I choose to go back?"

"You'll return to your normal life and forget everything that happened here."

I fell silent, my mind filled with questions. I knew this might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. On the other hand, returning to my regular life felt safe and comfortable, but…

"What would I gain if I choose to stay here?"

The figure in white smiled at my question, looking at me intently before responding with a hint of satisfaction.

"You'll find the thrill you've been searching for in those empty victories."

"All right."

***