The morning sun filtered through the windows, a gentle reminder that the game world of Aethel was far behind. In its place, the mundane reality of school awaited. Evan, Luke, and Myron each awoke in their separate homes, the echoes of their virtual victories fading into the responsibilities of the real world.
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Evan: The Struggle for Confidence
Evan stared at himself in the mirror, his golden brown eyes looking dull in the pale light of his cramped bathroom. His unruly hair was still damp from a hurried shower, and his uniform felt stiffer than usual, its creases reminding him of how ill-suited he felt in his own skin.
In Self-Actualization, he was Lord Evan, the confident and strategic leader of the Harmonious Enclave. His commands carried weight, his presence exuded assurance, and his people looked to him for guidance. But here? In the real world, he was just Evan—a stuttering, awkward teenager who couldn’t muster the courage to speak without tripping over his own words.
"Why can’t I bring that confidence here?" he muttered under his breath. He clenched his fists, recalling the decisions he made in the game. The way he had faced challenges, rallied his council, and built his territory from nothing. A part of him ached to stay in Aethel, where he felt alive and valued. But the harsh clang of his mother’s voice from the kitchen broke the illusion.
“Evan! You’re going to be late!”
With a sigh, he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, his mind racing. Today would be different, he told himself. He wouldn’t retreat into silence. He wouldn’t let the world drown him out. At least, that’s what he hoped.
As he stepped out of his room, the faint clatter of dishes in the kitchen made him pause. His mom was up. That wasn’t unusual. What was unusual was the fact that she was home at all.
He barely made it down the stairs before her voice reached him.
“Evan?”
He flinched slightly but forced himself to sound normal. “Yeah?”
His mom appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a rag. She was wearing her usual work uniform—a faded blue polo with a grocery store logo on the chest—but there were deep lines under her eyes, and her brown hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed properly.
“Did you eat dinner last night?” she asked, frowning slightly.
“Uh… yeah,” Evan lied, adjusting his glasses.
Her sharp gaze flicked toward the untouched plate of food on the counter. She sighed. “No, you didn’t.”
He opened his mouth, but before he could come up with an excuse, she shook her head. “Evan, you’ve been glued to that game since you got it. You barely come out of your room anymore. You didn’t even notice when I got home late last night.”
Guilt gnawed at him. “I was just… tired,” he mumbled. “Lost track of time.”
“Mmhmm,” she said, unconvinced. “And what about school? You still on top of your work?”
Evan nodded quickly. “Yeah, of course.”
“Then why did your teacher ask me if you were feeling okay yesterday?” she countered, crossing her arms. “She said you looked exhausted in class.”
His stomach dropped. Had it been that obvious? He thought he’d been handling things fine—sure, he’d felt a little sluggish in the morning, but nothing that bad.
“I’m fine, Mom. Seriously.”
She didn’t look convinced, but instead of pushing, she sighed and walked over to grab her purse from the counter. “Alright, if you say so. But Evan… don’t let this game take over your life. We’ve got enough to worry about without you slipping.”
He stiffened slightly, knowing exactly what she meant. Money. The unspoken weight between them. He knew she was barely holding things together, pulling double shifts at the store, stressing over bills she never talked about. It was why he had picked up a part-time job to begin with.
“Speaking of which,” she added, slinging her purse over her shoulder, “are you going to the café this weekend? Your boss called yesterday asking if you were still planning to come in.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Evan hesitated. “Yeah. I mean, probably. I’ll figure it out.”
His mom gave him a long, searching look, then sighed again. “Alright. Just don’t lose yourself in that thing, okay?”
“I won’t,” Evan promised.
She nodded, but the worry in her eyes didn’t fade. “I gotta go. There’s leftover rice and eggs in the fridge if you actually feel like eating today.”
“Got it,” Evan said quickly. “See you later.”
She lingered for a second, then finally turned and headed out the door.
Evan stood there for a moment, rubbing his temple. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. He just needed to manage his time better. No big deal.
With that thought, he grabbed his bag and stepped out the door, pushing away the nagging feeling in his chest.
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Luke: A Taste of Power
Luke rolled out of bed, groaning as he rubbed his eyes. The dingy wallpaper of his small room greeted him, a far cry from the grandeur of the Hall of Deception. There, he was Lord Luke, the cunning and powerful leader of the Malefic Vale. Here, he was just Luke—an exhausted teenager balancing part-time jobs to help his single mom and care for his younger sister.
His gaze fell on a small photo frame on his desk: his mom, smiling brightly, holding a much younger version of him and his sister. The memory stirred something inside him, a renewed sense of purpose. The power he wielded in the game—it wasn’t just a thrill. It was a taste of something he desperately craved: control, stability, and the ability to protect those he cared about.
Yet, as he pulled on his worn-out hoodie, a pang of unease struck him. The game had awakened something else in him—a hunger. He had enjoyed making others bow, crushing resistance, and watching his enemies tremble in fear. Was he becoming obsessed? Was he losing himself in the pursuit of power?
“No,” he whispered fiercely, shaking the thought away. This is for them. For Mom. For Grace.
He grabbed his backpack and left his room, pausing briefly to kiss his sister on the forehead as she sat eating cereal. “Be good for Mom today, okay, Gracie?”
She nodded, giggling. “You’re so bossy.”
Luke smirked faintly. “That’s my job.”
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Myron: The Golden Cage
Myron sat at the edge of his bed, staring out of the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse bedroom. The sprawling city below looked as distant as he felt. In the game, he was Alpha Myron, the fearless leader of the Primal Hunting Grounds, free to shape his destiny and lead his pack as he saw fit. But here, in reality, he was the son of the richest businessman in the world—a role that came with suffocating expectations.
The tailored suit laid out on his chair mocked him. Freedom. That’s what he craved. The wild, unrestrained life of Aethel felt like a dream compared to the gilded cage he inhabited in real life. He thought back to the pack link, the unity he shared with his wolves. A part of him longed for that sense of belonging, for a world where he wasn’t defined by his last name.
Then, unbidden, his thoughts turned to Evan and Luke. Out of the hundreds of students at school, why did those two linger in his mind? Evan’s quiet strength and Luke’s raw ambition intrigued him. Myron realized that, since starting Self-Actualization, he felt a strange pull toward them—a desire to connect, to understand.
Standing, Myron made a decision. Today, I’ll talk to them. He grabbed his bag, brushing aside the nagging doubt. If the game had taught him anything, it was that waiting was the enemy of action.
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At the bus stop, Evan adjusted his glasses nervously, clutching his notebook as though it were a lifeline. His mind raced with half-formed thoughts about the game—strategies, defenses, and the looming sense that his in-game confidence would never translate into the real world. He shuffled his feet, avoiding eye contact with the bustling crowd around him.
Luke, leaning casually against the side of the building, earbuds in, scrolled through his phone aimlessly. His sharp crimson-colored contacts reflected the morning light, giving him an aloof, almost otherworldly air. When Evan arrived, Luke’s sharp eyes flicked up briefly. A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
“You look like you saw a ghost,” Luke said, his tone dry but laced with mild curiosity.
Evan stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “J-just… didn’t s-sleep well.”
Luke shrugged, slipping one earbud out. “Me neither. Too much on my mind. Let’s hope today doesn’t suck.”
Across the street, Myron stepped out of a sleek black car, the polished vehicle a stark contrast to the chaos of the school morning. His golden eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on the two boys. He straightened his blazer and crossed the street with practiced ease, his presence commanding attention without effort.
“Evan. Luke,” Myron greeted smoothly, his voice carrying a tone that bordered on casual but carried an edge of quiet authority.
Both boys turned, surprise flashing across their faces. Myron rarely acknowledged anyone at school unless necessary. Evan shifted awkwardly, his mind spinning. Myron had everything—confidence, charisma, wealth. Why was he talking to them?
“What’s up, Myron?” Luke asked, his tone casual, though his sharp gaze betrayed curiosity.
Myron’s lips curved into a faint smile, his golden eyes gleaming with a strange intensity. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you two. Mind if I sit with you at lunch?”
Evan blinked, taken aback. “L-lunch?”
Luke’s smirk widened as he pushed off the wall. “Sure. Why not?” His tone was neutral, but there was a glint in his eye—part intrigue, part challenge.
Myron inclined his head, his expression unreadable. “Good. See you both then.”
As Myron strode confidently toward the school’s entrance, Evan’s brows knit in confusion. “Why would he…?”
Luke glanced at him, a slight shrug masking his own curiosity. “Guess we’ll find out.”
As they followed in Myron’s wake, none of them realized that their seemingly separate lives were beginning to intertwine. The game had given them glimpses of their potential, but it was here, in the real world, that their true tests awaited.