The second scrim of the day was brutal. Aarav sat rigid in his chair, headset snug, eyes locked on the glowing map. His fingers hovered over the keys, ready—but his mind was a storm.
"Rotate left!" Aarav called out, spotting an enemy flank forming. His voice cracked slightly, but the team followed his call.
"Good," Rhea said curtly. "Now push mid. Don't wait."
Aarav hesitated for a split second—then moved. That hesitation cost them. An enemy sniper picked off their entry fragger, and the momentum shifted.
"Damn it!" Rhea's voice snapped through the comms. "You can't freeze like that!"
"I—sorry," Aarav stammered, guilt flooding him.
"Sorry doesn't win games," Rhea shot back, her tone sharp as a blade. "You've got the brain, Aarav. Use it faster."
The words stung, but they lit a fire in him. He clenched his jaw, forcing his focus back. Faster. No fear.
The match raged on—gunfire, explosions, frantic calls. Aarav's analytical mind kicked in, spotting patterns, predicting rotations. He called an early flank that saved the team from a wipeout.
"Nice," Zayn said over comms. "That's what I'm talking about!"
But the praise was short-lived. Minutes later, Aarav missed a crucial heal during a chaotic fight. The team wiped. Silence filled the channel—then Rhea's voice, cold and cutting.
"You can't afford mistakes like that," she said. "Not here."
Aarav swallowed hard. "I'll do better."
"You better," Rhea replied, ending the round.
After the scrim, the team gathered in the lounge. Laughter and chatter filled the room—but Aarav sat quietly in a corner, replaying every mistake in his head. His stomach churned. Maybe I don't belong here.
Zayn dropped onto the couch beside him, tossing a water bottle his way. "Don't let her get to you," he said. "Rhea's tough because she cares."
Aarav managed a weak smile. "Feels like she hates me."
"Nah," Zayn chuckled. "If she hated you, you wouldn't be here. She sees potential. That's why she's pushing you."
Aarav nodded slowly, but doubt still gnawed at him. He glanced across the room—Rhea was laughing with another teammate, her confidence effortless. Aarav felt like a shadow in her light.
Back in the scrim room, Aarav adjusted his headset for the next match. His hands trembled, but his resolve hardened. He whispered to himself: "No fear. No hesitation."
The countdown began. Rhea's voice cut through the comms: "Aarav, you're on rotations again. Call them early. And this time—trust yourself."
Aarav took a deep breath. "Got it."
The match loaded. Pressure mounted. But this time, Aarav was ready to fight back.