Ethan paced back and forth in his room, the faint hum of his computer and the soft glow of his VR headset sitting on the desk taunting him. The idea of not being able to access Rebirth Online was driving him crazy. It wasn’t just about the game itself; it was the principle. He’d been unjustly banned from his new account, and the fact that EPGames, his former management, had been the ones to do it felt like a betrayal.

He flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. A part of him wanted to scream into the void, but he restrained himself. Years in the professional gaming world had taught him patience—or at least, that’s what he told himself as he clenched his fists.

Pulling out his phone, Ethan considered calling Alex again to demand an update, but he knew it wouldn’t help. His former manager had promised to handle it, and there wasn’t much Ethan could do but wait.

He tried distracting himself by scrolling through social media, but it was a bad idea. He stumbled upon clips from Blitz Tactics, his old game, featuring his past matches as Phoenix. Seeing his avatar’s flawless plays set to dramatic music should have filled him with pride, but instead, it made his stomach churn.

That’s not me anymore, he thought, tossing his phone onto the bed.

Minutes turned into hours, and Ethan cycled through every distraction he could think of. He watched videos, tried reading a book, even attempted some light exercise, but his focus always drifted back to the game. The longer he waited, the more his frustration grew.

His phone buzzed, and Ethan lunged for it, hoping for good news. It was a text from Alex:

“Almost sorted. Just a few more details to finalize.”

Ethan groaned, falling back onto his bed. A few more details might as well have been an eternity. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside him.

The seconds dragged on like hours, but finally, after what felt like forever, his phone buzzed again. This time, the message was shorter:

“Done.”

Ethan jumped up so quickly he nearly knocked over his chair. He grabbed his VR headset and powered it on, his heart pounding with excitement and nervous anticipation.

As the system booted up, a notification from EPGames appeared on the interface.

Subject: Account Reinstatement and Compensation

Message:

Dear Player,

We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience caused by the misunderstanding regarding your account. As compensation, we have credited your account with EXP boosters and exclusive cosmetic items.

Thank you for your understanding.

* The EPGames Team

Ethan stared at the message, his emotions a mix of relief and annoyance. So this is their idea of making things right? he thought. The compensation felt hollow, like a band-aid slapped onto a wound that hadn’t been properly cleaned.

The EXP boosters could have been useful, but Ethan hesitated. Using them might make leveling easier, but it would also open the door for more accusations of bias. He’d already experienced how quickly people could turn on him.

“No thanks,” he muttered, dismissing the boosters to his inventory. He would save them for later, just in case an event made it worth using them.

Finally, he was back at the character creation screen, ready to start fresh.

Ethan found himself staring at the character creation screen, a blank slate waiting to be molded. It felt oddly poetic. After all, wasn’t this exactly what he wanted? A fresh start. A chance to play the game on his own terms, free from the expectations and weight of being “Phoenix.”

The default avatar in front of him stood still, its expression neutral and its design basic. This time, he decided to take his time and carefully consider his choices. His new identity in Rebirth Online would reflect who he was now—a former legend starting over in the shadows.

He scrolled through the customization options, experimenting with different body types and facial features. The options were extensive, far more advanced than what he was used to in his old games.

After a while, he settled on a slender frame—lean and nimble. It wasn’t just for aesthetics; a smaller body would provide a practical advantage in combat. Smaller hitboxes made dodging and evasion easier, something Ethan had learned from years of competitive play.

For the face, he chose sharp, angular features that gave his avatar a quiet, determined look. The messy black hair added a touch of ruggedness, and he darkened the skin tone slightly to avoid standing out too much in a crowd. He didn’t want flashy. He wanted efficient.

The eyes were the hardest part. Ethan hesitated as he scrolled through the options, trying to decide on the right look. Bright and vibrant? No. That felt too optimistic for how he was feeling. He finally settled on a steely gray, the kind of eyes that looked like they had seen too much but kept going anyway.

Next came the outfit. The game’s starter gear options were basic, but there was room for creativity. Most players tended to choose flamboyant designs to attract attention, but Ethan had no intention of drawing unnecessary eyes.

He picked a simple leather tunic with matching trousers—functional, unassuming, and perfect for a new player. He added a dark green hooded cloak to complete the look, giving his avatar a hint of mystery.

Satisfied, he took a step back to admire his work. It wasn’t flashy, but it was exactly what he wanted: a practical, low-profile design that wouldn’t scream “target.”

The more ‘ordinary’ he looked, the less changes he would have to get targeted by scammers.

With his avatar ready, Ethan moved on to the final step: choosing a name. This part felt oddly significant. A name wasn’t just a label; it was an identity. His previous name, Phoenix, had carried weight and expectation. Now, he wanted something simpler, something that wouldn’t carry the baggage of his past.

He typed in Ash. It was short, easy to remember, and held a subtle connection to his former name. Phoenixes rose from ashes, after all.

But when he hit confirm, a message popped up: Name already taken.

Ethan groaned, leaning back in his chair. Of course, it was taken. A name like Ash was probably one of the most common choices. He considered adding numbers or symbols, but it felt tacky.

After a moment of thought, he added an extra “h” at the end: Ashh.

The system accepted it.

“It’s not perfect,” Ethan muttered, “but it’ll do.”

It was close enough to the point that no one would bother him about it. He was a little salty about not getting his original name back, but it no longer mattered.

As he hovered over the confirm button, Ethan paused. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of trepidation. Once he clicked this button, he’d officially be stepping into the world of Rebirth Online as someone new.

For a brief moment, he wondered if he should add some kind of flair to his avatar—something to make it stand out. But he quickly dismissed the thought. His goal wasn’t to stand out; it was to blend in and rediscover what he loved about gaming.

With a deep breath, he clicked confirm.

The game’s vibrant world materialized around him, pulling him in with its breathtaking detail. He stood in the middle of a bustling village, surrounded by NPCs hawking their wares, other players chatting in groups, and the distant sounds of clanging hammers and chirping birds.

Ethan took a moment to admire his surroundings. Even after all his years in gaming, Rebirth Online felt like something special. The level of immersion was incredible, from the way the sunlight filtered through the trees to the subtle shifts in the wind that made the grass sway.

He opened his inventory to check the starter gear and found a notification about the compensation items EPGames had sent him. The EXP boosters and cosmetic items were still there, tempting him.

“Nope,” he said aloud, closing the inventory. “Not using those.”

This was his chance to start over, and he wasn’t going to tarnish it with shortcuts.

______

As the vivid world of Rebirth Online fully came into focus, Ethan, now Ashh, found himself standing in the starting zone: a quaint village surrounded by lush forests and rolling hills. The air buzzed with activity. NPCs shouted about their wares, players bartered over loot, and the occasional burst of magic or weapon clash added a layer of chaotic energy.

The immersion was breathtaking. Ethan turned his head, testing the full range of motion in his avatar. He could feel the breeze through his hood, the weight of the basic starter gear on his shoulders, and even the texture of the dirt beneath his boots.

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“Wow,” he murmured, genuinely impressed.

He took a moment to familiarize himself with the controls and mechanics. Movement felt fluid, responsive, and natural—like he was walking through a real town rather than a virtual one. The sound design was equally impressive; he could hear the distant babble of a stream and the clink of coins exchanging hands.

Ethan opened his map and scanned the beginner quests available. Most of them were simple: gather herbs, defeat small monsters, or deliver packages between NPCs. He selected a quest to collect medicinal plants in the nearby forest. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was a good way to get a feel for the gameplay without attracting attention.

As he left the village, he couldn’t help but smile. This was exactly what he had wanted—simple, straightforward gaming without the weight of expectations.

Ethan was crouched near a bush, carefully picking a bright blue herb for his quest, when he heard voices behind him.

“Hey, isn’t that another newbie?”

He turned to see a group of three players approaching him. They were familiar, their usernames hovering above their heads like unwelcome reminders: ZerkMaster, FlameDancer, and SharpShooter. It was the same group of players he’d encountered during his first day in the game—the ones who had challenged him, lost, and indirectly caused his account’s temporary ban.

Ethan straightened up, dusting off his hands. He had half a mind to ignore them and move on, but they were already closing in.

“Hey there, rookie!” ZerkMaster greeted with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “New to the game, huh? Need some help?”

Ethan’s jaw tightened. He knew this type of player well. They acted friendly on the surface but had ulterior motives.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” Ethan replied curtly, turning to leave.

“Wait, wait,” FlameDancer said, stepping in his path. “We’re not here to bother you. We’re looking for a new party member. You see, no one wants to group with us after... well, after yesterday.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Yesterday?”

SharpShooter sighed dramatically. “Yeah, some cocky rookie made us look bad in a mini-game. Now everyone thinks we’re a joke.”

Ethan smirked internally. Gee, wonder who that could’ve been.

“So, we figured,” ZerkMaster continued, “since you’re new, you probably don’t know about all that. We could show you around, help you level up, and in return, you could join us for a raid. It’s a win-win.”

Ethan folded his arms, pretending to consider their offer. “Let me get this straight. You want me to join your party because no one else will?”

“Uh... yeah,” FlameDancer admitted sheepishly. “But we’re good players! We just had a bad day yesterday.”

“Sure,” Ethan replied dryly. “And it’s pure coincidence that my name is Ashh, right?”

The trio exchanged awkward glances, clearly aware of the irony.

“Look, we’re trying to be nice here,” SharpShooter said, his tone growing impatient. “You could at least hear us out.”

Ethan shook his head. “Sorry, not interested.”

The rejection didn’t sit well with the trio.

“Are you serious?” ZerkMaster growled. “We’re offering you a chance to level up faster, and you’re just gonna turn us down?”

“Yep,” Ethan said, stepping around them.

“Suit yourself,” FlameDancer snapped. “But don’t come crying to us when you’re stuck doing boring quests alone.”

Ethan kept walking, his back to them. He could hear their grumbled curses and muttered insults, but thankfully, they didn’t follow him.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. As much as he wanted to put those players in their place, he knew better than to get involved with troublemakers like them. Still, the encounter left a sour taste in his mouth.

“Guess some things never change,” he muttered to himself, turning his focus back to the quest.

After the awkward encounter with the trio, Ethan let out a deep breath and leaned against a tree in the forest. The leaves above him rustled softly in the breeze, and the distant sounds of other players echoed through the woods. It was a stark reminder of why he was here: to leave the drama and politics of his old gaming life behind.

“I’m not here to get caught up in petty squabbles,” he muttered to himself. “I’m here to enjoy the game.”

He opened his quest log, scanning the remaining objectives for the herbalist quest. He needed three more medicinal plants to complete it, and the map showed a denser patch of herbs just beyond a shallow stream. Deciding to focus on the task at hand, Ethan pushed the encounter with the trio to the back of his mind and headed toward the marked area.

The forest opened into a sunlit glade, where the ground was blanketed with vibrant blue and purple flowers. Ethan crouched and began collecting the plants, feeling a sense of satisfaction with each one he picked.

As he worked, a small rabbit-like creature hopped into view, its fur glinting silver in the sunlight. The creature paused to sniff the air before darting into the underbrush. Ethan watched it with a smile.

The attention to detail is insane, he thought, marveling at how alive the world felt. Every movement, every sound, even the way the light filtered through the trees—it was all so immersive.

Once he gathered the last herb, a notification popped up:

Quest Completed: Herbalist’s Favor

Reward: 20 gold, 50 EXP, Minor Healing Potion

“Not bad,” Ethan said, pocketing the potion.

With the quest complete, he headed back to the village to turn it in. Along the way, he encountered a group of low-level monsters—slimy, translucent creatures that jiggled as they moved. The game called them Gelatinous Crawlers.

Ethan drew his rusty starter sword, feeling a rush of adrenaline. Despite their low level, the creatures attacked in groups, their movements unpredictable. He darted between them, delivering precise strikes while evading their lunges.

The combat felt smooth, almost instinctive. It wasn’t as fast-paced as Blitz Tactics, but it had its own rhythm, a balance of timing and positioning that Ethan found engaging.

When the last crawler dissolved into a puddle of goo, Ethan received another notification:

Combat Experience Gained: 30 EXP

He wiped his virtual sword clean and smiled. Yeah, this game is something special.

Back in the village, Ethan handed over the herbs to the NPC herbalist, a kindly old woman who thanked him with a warm smile. She handed him a small pouch of gold and a healing potion as a reward.

“You’ve done well, young one,” she said. “If you’re ever in need of more work, come find me.”

Ethan nodded and stepped out of the shop. The village was just as lively as before, with players rushing between vendors and quest givers. He paused for a moment, watching the chaos unfold. It reminded him of the early days of Blitz Tactics, back when he was just another player in the crowd.

That thought brought a pang of nostalgia, but it was quickly followed by determination. I’m not here to relive the past. I’m here to build something new.

As Ethan moved through the bustling streets, he caught sight of the trio—ZerkMaster, FlameDancer, and SharpShooter—huddled near a tavern. They were arguing, their voices rising above the noise of the crowd.

Ethan instinctively slowed his pace, not wanting to attract their attention. He wasn’t in the mood for another confrontation.

“Can’t believe no one wants to party with us!” ZerkMaster snapped, slamming his fist against the tavern wall.

“Maybe if you hadn’t picked a fight with that rookie yesterday, we wouldn’t be in this mess,” FlameDancer shot back.

Ethan smirked and kept walking, satisfied that their troubles weren’t his problem anymore.

Once he was safely out of sight, Ethan opened his map and began planning his next move. The surrounding areas offered a variety of beginner-level quests and activities, but one location caught his eye: a small cave marked as a Level 5 dungeon.

He was only Level 2, but the idea of testing his skills against tougher enemies excited him. After all, he hadn’t come here to play it safe.

“Let’s see what this game can really do,” he muttered, setting a waypoint for the dungeon.

On the way, he made a quick stop at a vendor to sell some of the loot he’d collected and buy better equipment. With his gold from the herbalist quest and the monster drops, he purchased a sturdier sword and a basic leather shield. They weren’t flashy, but they were a step up from his starter gear.

Equipped and ready, Ethan headed toward the cave, his heart pounding with anticipation. For the first time in a long time, he felt like a real gamer again—not a celebrity, not a brand, just a player exploring a world full of possibilities.

As Ethan walked back to the village after his successful herb-gathering quest, his thoughts began to drift. The ambient noises of Rebirth Online—the distant chirping of birds, the chatter of NPCs, the faint hum of magic in the air—faded into the background, leaving him alone with his mind.

This game was something else. The level of immersion was unparalleled, far beyond anything he’d experienced in his pro-gaming days. The weight of his sword, the subtle changes in the air when he moved through different areas, the tiny details in the environment—it all made him feel as if he were really there.

Most importantly, the game felt... free.

When he had been Phoenix, the legendary pro player, every move he made was scrutinized. Every match he played had been analyzed, dissected, and debated by fans and critics alike. Even outside of the game, his life had been controlled by schedules, interviews, sponsorship obligations, and the constant pressure to perform.

But here, in Rebirth Online, he wasn’t Phoenix. He wasn’t bound by expectations or the crushing weight of reputation. He was just Ashh, a rookie adventurer finding his way in a vast new world.

Ethan paused at the edge of the village, watching other players bustle around. Some were trading with NPCs, others were grouped up and discussing strategies for dungeons or PvP matches. A few solo players like him were quietly grinding quests, their focus unbroken by the noise around them.

It was refreshing to be part of the crowd, anonymous and unremarkable.

This is what I wanted, he thought. No cameras, no sponsorships, no pressure.

And yet, there was a nagging thought in the back of his mind. The skills he’d honed as Phoenix hadn’t disappeared. He still had the muscle memory, the reflexes, and the strategic thinking that had made him a pro. The challenge would be to use those skills here without drawing too much attention to himself—at least not yet.

For now, he resolved to take things slow, enjoy the game for what it was, and let himself truly experience something he hadn’t felt in years: fun.

The contrast between his time in the game and his real life hit him hard when he logged out later that evening. As the VR headset lifted from his face, the vibrant, lively world of Rebirth Online was replaced by the sterile silence of his bedroom.

Ethan sat up, blinking in the dim light. His room was neat, almost too neat—a result of having too much time on his hands and nothing better to do. The shelves were lined with trophies and medals from his gaming career, but they felt more like decorations than achievements.

He glanced at his phone on the desk. No new messages, no missed calls, no notifications.

It was a sharp reminder of how lonely his real life had become.

In school, he was invisible. He didn’t have any close friends, and most of his classmates either ignored him or didn’t know he existed. He couldn’t blame them. He had spent so much of his life focused on gaming that he’d never really learned how to connect with people outside of that world.

At home, it was no better. His parents were supportive of his gaming career but distant. They didn’t understand his world and often left him to his own devices, assuming he preferred it that way.

Ethan sighed and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. The truth was, he hated the silence. He hated coming home to an empty house and spending hours alone with his thoughts.

That’s why Rebirth Online was such a revelation.

In the game, he wasn’t lonely. He wasn’t invisible. Even as a new player, he had interacted with people—albeit some frustrating ones—and felt like he was part of something bigger. The vibrant world, the sense of adventure, the constant stream of goals and challenges—it was everything his real life lacked.

It’s ironic, he thought. In the real world, I’m just some quiet guy no one notices. But in the virtual world, I can be whoever I want.

And yet, that thought brought a twinge of guilt. Was he running away? Escaping into a game instead of facing the realities of his life?

Maybe. But right now, he didn’t care. For the first time in a long while, he felt alive. He felt like he had a purpose, even if it was just completing quests and exploring a digital landscape.

As he stared out the window at the darkening sky, Ethan made a silent promise to himself.

I’m going to make the most of this. I’m going to enjoy the game, find my place in this new world, and see where it takes me.

For now, Rebirth Online was more than just a game. It was a lifeline, a way to escape the loneliness that had defined his life for far too long.