The scrim ended with a sharp beep, and Aarav exhaled like he'd been holding his breath for hours. His hands were clammy, his heart still racing. He glanced at the scoreboard—his stats weren't terrible, but they weren't great either.
"Not bad," Zayn said, spinning in his chair. "For a first-timer."
Aarav managed a small smile. "Thanks."
Rhea removed her headset with a swift motion, her expression unreadable. She walked over, arms crossed. "You've got good calls," she said flatly. "But you hesitate."
Aarav swallowed. "I… didn't want to mess up."
"That's the problem," Rhea replied, her tone sharp. "You play scared, you lose. This isn't solo queue. Here, hesitation costs games."
Aarav nodded, feeling the sting of her words. "I'll work on it."
"You better," she said, turning away. "We've got another scrim in an hour."
As she walked off, Aarav slumped in his chair. Play scared, you lose. The words echoed in his head like a warning bell.
Zayn leaned over, grinning. "Don't take it personally. Rhea's tough on everyone."
"She's… intense," Aarav admitted.
"Intense is an understatement," Zayn chuckled. "She's the reason we've got trophies on that wall."
Aarav glanced at the gleaming display case. Each trophy felt like a mountain he had to climb. Could he really fit into this world?
The team gathered in the lounge for a quick break. Aarav sat quietly, sipping water, while the others joked and laughed like old friends. Their banter was loud, full of inside jokes he didn't understand. He felt like a ghost in the room.
"Hey, new guy," one of the players—Raj—called out. "You stream?"
Aarav shook his head. "No."
Raj smirked. "Figures. You've got that 'silent assassin' vibe."
The group laughed. Aarav forced a smile, but inside, he felt the gap widening. They were a family. He was an outsider.
Kunal's words from earlier replayed in his mind: You belong there. Aarav wanted to believe it, but right now, he wasn't sure.
Back in the scrim room, Aarav adjusted his headset, determination hardening in his chest. He couldn't let fear define him. Not here. Not now.
As the next match loaded, Rhea's voice cut through the comms. "Aarav, you're on rotations again. Call them early. And don't freeze."
"Got it," Aarav said, his voice steadier this time.
The countdown ticked. Aarav gripped his mouse, eyes locked on the screen. He wasn't just a quiet gamer anymore. He was part of Phoenix Strike—whether they believed it yet or not.