"Every legend fears only one thing-not defeat, but the day someone indispensable can no longer stand beside them."

---

The thunderous roar of nearly forty thousand spectators echoed through the Indira Esports Arena, New Delhi.

Blue spotlights swept across the massive stadium while millions watched the live broadcast from every corner of India.

The giant LED screen flashed one name.

NIGHT.

For a moment, the entire arena forgot how to breathe.

Then-

"NIGHT! NIGHT! NIGHT!"

The chant shook the stadium walls.

Commentators smiled knowingly.

"It doesn't matter whether you're a fan of Team Orion or not," the senior commentator laughed into his headset. "The moment Night walks onto the stage... the arena belongs to him."

His co-commentator nodded.

"India has produced many professional players, but only one legend."

"One player who has never been replaced."

"One captain who has rewritten the game itself."

"Kushagra Singh."

The lights dimmed.

A single white spotlight illuminated the entrance tunnel.

Five silhouettes slowly emerged.

Leading them was a man dressed in Orion's signature black jersey trimmed with silver constellations.

His expression remained unreadable.

No smile.

No wave.

No attempt to acknowledge the deafening cheers surrounding him.

He simply walked.

Measured.

Steady.

As if the noise belonged to another universe.

His black hair fell effortlessly over his forehead.

His sharp jawline and calm, emotionless dark eyes gave him an intimidating aura.

At twenty-seven years old, Kushagra Singh had become something far greater than a professional gamer.

He was a phenomenon.

The world knew him by only one name.

Night.

---

Outside the esports world, he was equally well known.

The eldest son of the influential Singh family.

A family whose media empire shaped television, digital journalism, film production and entertainment across the country.

Unlike everyone expected, Kushagra had refused to inherit the family business.

Not because he disliked it.

Because he had found something he loved even more.

Competition.

Strategy.

Victory.

Esports.

Years ago, when professional gaming was still dismissed as a hobby, he had built Team Orion from nothing.

Today...

It was India's most valuable esports organization.

Ironically, it still remained under the umbrella of the Singh Group as one of its secondary ventures.

His parents had eventually accepted one condition.

"If you're going to build something..."

His father had once told him.

"...build it so well that nobody can question why you chose it."

Kushagra did exactly that.

---

The rest of Team Orion followed behind him.

Kunal Mehra.

Age twenty-six.

Known across the esports world by his stage name Blaze.

The team's ever-cheerful Jungler.

He possessed extraordinary map awareness and somehow managed to joke even during championship matches.

---

Harish Kapoor.

Twenty-five.

Known professionally as Cipher.

Orion's Support player.

Calm, analytical, and often the peacekeeper whenever arguments erupted inside the practice room. Fans called him "The Silent Mind of Orion," because he always seemed to see three steps ahead.

---

Vedant Rao.

Twenty-five.

Known by the stage name Volt.

The team's Gold Laner and youngest core player.

His lightning-fast reflexes had earned him the nickname "Lightning Hands," making him one of the most feared late-game marksmen in the country.

---

Finally...

Walking a little slower than everyone else...

Sarthak Malhotra.

Thirty-two.

Known to millions simply as Astra.

Orion's legendary Mid Laner.

The veteran.

The player who had stood beside Night since Team Orion's very first local tournament.

Together, they had risen from unknown dreamers to the most feared duo in Indian esports, building Orion into the empire it had become.

The player who had stood beside Kushagra since Orion's very first local tournament.

They had grown together.

Lost together.

Won together.

Built an empire together.

Yet tonight...

Every member of Orion understood one painful truth.

This was one of Sarthak's final competitive seasons.

Professional league regulations were absolute.

No active player could continue beyond the age of thirty-two.

In less than three months...

Sarthak would age out of eligibility.

Retirement wasn't a choice.

It was the rule.

---

The championship ceremony ended with another trophy lifted into the air.

Confetti exploded like silver rain.

Reporters rushed forward.

Cameras flashed endlessly.

One journalist raised the inevitable question.

"Captain Night!"

"Orion has now won six consecutive national championships."

"How does it feel?"

Kushagra adjusted the microphone without changing his expression.

"It feels normal."

The crowd laughed.

The reporter smiled awkwardly.

"Then... what is Orion's next goal?"

There was a brief silence.

Kushagra looked at his teammates.

His gaze rested on Sarthak for only a second.

When he spoke again...

His voice was calm.

"Winning isn't difficult."

The audience quietened instantly.

"Staying at the top is."

He returned the microphone and walked away before another question could be asked.

Typical Night.

Few words.

Maximum impact.

---

Backstage...

The atmosphere couldn't have been more different.

Kunal threw himself onto the sofa.

"Bhai, main toh mar gaya."

(Brother, I'm completely exhausted.)

Harish chuckled.

"You say that after every final."

Vedant opened a bottle of water.

"And yet somehow you become energetic the moment food arrives."

Everyone laughed.

Everyone...

Except Kushagra.

He quietly removed his headset and placed it inside his bag.

His eyes drifted towards Sarthak.

The older player was smiling with the trophy in his hands.

But there was something hidden behind that smile.

Something only Kushagra could recognize.

Acceptance.

Not happiness.

Acceptance.

The kind that came when a person knew the finish line had finally arrived.

For the first time in years...

Night felt powerless.

Not because another team had become stronger.

Not because Orion had begun losing.

But because this was one opponent he couldn't defeat.

Time.

Outside the celebration room, through the glass wall overlooking the arena, thousands of Orion fans still chanted his name.

Inside...

The captain of India's greatest esports team stared silently at his oldest teammate.

And somewhere deep within his mind, one question echoed again and again.

Who could ever replace Sarthak?

The answer...

Would change Team Orion forever.

___________

The celebration inside Orion Headquarters continued late into the evening.

Champagne bottles popped.

Photographers rushed from one corner to another.

Interviews.

Autographs.

Media obligations.

The life of champions never truly paused.

Mumbai was just beginning to wake up.

Not to the sunrise.

But to another battlefield.

Hidden beneath the glittering skyline, tucked between towering glass buildings in Lower Parel, stood one of India's most exclusive gaming arenas.

ARENA Xperia.

It wasn't a place where casual gamers came to pass time.

This was where professional players sharpened their instincts, national-ranked competitors challenged one another anonymously, and aspiring esports stars came hoping to make a name for themselves.

Winning here didn't earn a trophy.

It earned respect.

Tonight, however...

Every gaming station had fallen silent.

More than a hundred spectators had crowded around the central tournament stage.

The enormous LED display suspended above the arena flashed two names.

ShadowREX
VS
LUNERIA

The atmosphere crackled with anticipation.

"ShadowX is definitely winning."

"No chance. He's been a pro for almost five years."

"But this Luneria..."

"I've heard of the ID before. This player rank 1 in the Top 5 in the individual Gamers."

"Exactly. That's why it'll be more interesting in few minutes."

Laughter and excitement spread through the crowd.

At the left gaming station sat ShadowREX, a nationally recognized professional mid-laner known for his ruthless mechanics and confidence.

Across from him...

Sat someone completely covered.

An oversized black hoodie.

A black face mask.

Black gloves.

The hood was pulled so low that only a pair of mesmerizing dark brown eyes remained visible beneath the harsh white lights.

Those eyes never looked at the audience.

Never looked at the opponent.

They remained fixed on the monitor.

Calm.

Sharp.

Almost frighteningly focused.

The referee raised his hand.

"Three..."

"Two..."

"One..."

"Game Start!"

The massive screen came alive.

The opening minutes were almost... peaceful.

Both players farmed efficiently.

Neither made reckless moves.

ShadowREX smirked.

"So you're patient."

Still...

No reply.

The mysterious player hadn't uttered a single word since entering the arena.

Three minutes passed.

Five.

The spectators began whispering.

"Maybe this anonymous player isn't that good after all."

Then...

Everything changed.

In less than half a second, Luneria predicted ShadowREX's movement before he even committed to it.

A flawless sidestep.

A perfectly timed counter.

An impossible skill chain.

FIRST BLOOD!

The gaming lounge exploded.

"What just happened?!"

"Did ShadowREX seriously get outplayed?"

"No replay can explain that!"

ShadowREX frowned for the first time.

Coincidence.

It had to be.

He adjusted his headset and attacked again.

This time more aggressively.

The mysterious player answered with terrifying precision.

Every ability landed.

Every rotation was calculated.

Every prediction felt as though they were reading his mind.

Within minutes...

The difference in gold widened.

The objectives fell one after another.

ShadowREX's teammates tried desperately to recover.

It didn't matter.

Luneria seemed to exist everywhere at once.

The audience watched in stunned silence.

"This..."

One spectator swallowed hard.

"...isn't normal."

Another whispered,

"Whoever this guy is... he's playing like Night."

The comparison alone sent murmurs through the hall.

Night.

The undisputed king of Indian esports.

No one dared compare ordinary professionals to him.

Yet tonight...

The stranger before them displayed the same suffocating control over the game.

The final team fight lasted barely twenty seconds.

A perfect initiation.

An impossible escape.

A calculated re-engage.

One by one...

The opposing team disappeared from the battlefield.

VICTORY.

Golden letters illuminated the giant screen.

For a heartbeat...

Silence.

Then Arena Xperia erupted.

The crowd surged toward the stage.

"Bro!"

"That was insane!"

"Which organization are you signed with?"

"Give us your social media!"

"You should play Nationals!"

"Someone record this!"

The mysterious player stood up slowly.

There was no celebration.

No arrogance.

No triumphant smile.

Only those calm brown eyes quietly observing the cheering crowd.

The player slung a backpack over one shoulder and turned toward the exit.

Then...

The footsteps stopped.

Three women stood at the entrance to one of the private VIP lounges.

The first crossed her arms, a smile playing on her lips that somehow felt more dangerous than anger.

The second let out an exaggerated sigh and shook her head.

The third simply stared.

One look.

That was enough.

The fearless player who had just humiliated a professional suddenly froze.

"...Uh-oh."

The words escaped beneath the mask in a low voice.

"Main toh pakdi gayi..."

(Well... I've been caught.)

The first woman took a slow step forward.

"So this is your 'business meeting'?"

The second couldn't help laughing.

"We searched half of Mumbai for you."

The third pointed toward the exit.

"Car."

One word.

No emotion.

The mysterious player lowered their head in surrender.

Around them, the crowd looked utterly confused.

"What happened?"

"Does he know them?"

"Why does he look terrified now?"

No one noticed the hood shift ever so slightly.

A long lock of dark brown, wavy hair slipped free before disappearing back beneath the hoodie.

The three women exchanged knowing smiles.

One of them leaned closer and whispered just loudly enough for the masked player to hear.

"Kaveri has been waiting outside for fifteen minutes."

The player closed their eyes dramatically.

"...Now I'm definitely dead."

Outside Arena X...

A luxury black SUV waited by the curb.

Leaning casually against it, dressed in a stylish blazer with a media ID card hanging around her neck, stood a young woman scrolling through her phone.

The moment she looked up, she grinned.

"There you are, Drama Queen."

She folded her arms.

"You know, India's retired pop sensation disappears from the studio..."

"...and somehow the country's most mysterious gamer appears at an underground esports arena."

She laughed.

"Only you could pull that off."

The masked player sighed.

"...Not one word, Kaveri."

Kaveri Malhotra only smiled wider.

"Oh, Vedu..."

"I've got a lot to say."

---------

The Orion Headquarters had fallen silent.

One by one, the lights in the practice rooms switched off.

Only a single monitor continued to glow.

Sarthak Malhotra sat alone.

The silver stars embroidered on his Orion jacket caught the faint light from the screen.

For the first time in years...

The veteran Mid Laner wasn't thinking about winning.

He was thinking about leaving.

Three months.

Ninety days.

Then the chair he had occupied for nearly a decade would belong to someone else.

He leaned back and let out a long sigh.

"Retirement..."

He smiled bitterly.

"It sounds so simple when you say it out loud."

His phone buzzed.

Blaze: Still in the practice room?

Sarthak ignored the message.

His fingers instinctively opened the game.

Not his official professional account.

A low-ranked alternate account.

Sometimes it was easier to play where nobody knew who he was.

No expectations.

No interviews.

No fans.

Just...

The game.

---

Ranked Match Found.

Accept.

The loading screen appeared.

Five strangers.

Random usernames.

Nothing unusual.

Sarthak barely glanced at them.

His thoughts drifted back to the meeting.

Who will replace me...?

Will Orion still dominate?

Will the next Mid Laner be able to understand Night's calls the way I do?

The match began.

His hands moved automatically.

Years of experience had made every action instinctive.

He cleared waves.

Rotated.

Secured objectives.

Yet his mind remained elsewhere.

He missed an easy skill shot.

"Focus, Sarthak," he muttered to himself.

(Focus, Sarthak.)

Another mistake.

He clicked his tongue.

"This isn't like you."

Then...

Something unexpected happened.

A teammate suddenly appeared from an impossible angle.

A perfectly timed rotation.

The enemy assassin, who had been waiting to ambush Sarthak, was eliminated before the attack even began.

Sarthak blinked.

"...Nice."

He hadn't pinged.

He hadn't asked for help.

Yet...

Someone had predicted exactly where the danger would come from.

For the first time that night...

He leaned closer to the monitor.

His attention had returned to the game.

---

His eyes moved toward the teammate's name.

LUNERIA.

"Interesting..."

The player wasn't flashy.

There were no unnecessary fights.

No reckless aggression.

Every movement served a purpose.

Every rotation was a calculation.

Every decision came a second before anyone else on the battlefield had thought of it.

Sarthak's lips curved into a faint smile.

"So that's your style."

He decided to test the player.

Without saying a word to the team, he deliberately changed his usual pathing.

A move that would confuse most players.

Luneria adjusted instantly.

No hesitation.

No wasted movement.

Almost as though they had anticipated his decision before he had made it himself.

"Hmm..."

His fingers moved faster now.

This was becoming fun.

For the next fifteen minutes...

The two strangers played as though they had trained together for years.

Not a single verbal instruction.

Not a single complaint.

Only perfect understanding through movement alone.

The enemy team slowly collapsed.

One objective after another.

One flawless team fight after another.

Until...

VICTORY.

Sarthak remained seated, staring at the results screen.

Luneria.

MVP.

He chuckled softly.

"It's been a while since someone forced me to concentrate."

Without overthinking, he opened the player's profile.

The statistics were... unusual.

A remarkably high win rate.

Exceptional consistency.

No professional team tag.

No public information.

Almost as if the player wanted to remain invisible.

"Who are you...?"

He hesitated only a moment before pressing one button.

Friend Request Sent.

From his alternate account.

If the request was accepted...

Perhaps they could play together again.

Perhaps...

He could learn more.

Sarthak rested his chin on his hand, a thoughtful smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

If someone is going to replace me...

They should at least be capable of defeating me.

The thought lingered.

Then another crossed his mind, making him laugh quietly at himself.

Why am I assuming the player is a 'he'?

He looked again at the name.

Luneria.

A name that carried no obvious identity.

No age.

No face.

No voice.

Nothing.

He leaned back in his chair.

"Who knows..."

A smile appeared for the first time that day.

"...maybe Orion's next Mid Laner isn't a 'he' at all."

Outside the practice room window, dawn's first light began to touch the horizon.

Miles away in Mumbai...

A notification quietly appeared on a hidden gaming account.

Friend Request Received.

From: Atlas

Neither player knew it yet.

But with a single click... destiny had just sent its first invitation.

--------

The next morning...

For the first time in years, Sarthak Malhotra reached Orion Headquarters before everyone else.

Usually, the veteran was the last to arrive.

He enjoyed a quiet cup of coffee before practice.

He liked taking his time.

Today...

He had barely slept.

His thoughts had remained occupied by one player.

Luneria.

That single ranked match refused to leave his mind.

It wasn't because they had won.

Professional players won hundreds of games every month.

It was how the game had been played.

No unnecessary risks.

No flashy ego plays.

No panic under pressure.

And above all...

An almost uncanny ability to read the battlefield.

Sarthak had spent nearly ten years competing at the highest level.

He trusted his instincts.

And his instincts were telling him only one thing.

"This player is different."

---

At exactly ten in the morning...

The practice room doors slid open.

Kunal walked in first, balancing two cups of coffee.

"Good morning, old man."

Sarthak rolled his eyes.

"I'm thirty-two."

"Exactly."

Kunal grinned.

"Old."

Before Sarthak could throw a cushion at him, Harish and Vedant entered together, discussing yesterday's final.

A moment later...

The room fell silent.

Kushagra Singh walked in.

Black jeans and a white T shirt.

Hands in his pockets.

The same unreadable expression he wore whether he won a championship or lost a scrim.

He nodded once.

"Morning."

Everyone answered almost instinctively.

"Morning, Captain."

Finally...

Arush entered carrying a tablet.

"Since everyone is here..."

He looked around.

"...let's begin."

---

Practice had barely started when Sarthak suddenly stood up.

"I have a request."

Four pairs of eyes turned toward him.

Even Kushagra looked up from his monitor.

Sarthak placed his phone on the table.

"I found someone yesterday."

Kunal immediately smirked.

"Oho..."

"Our Astra has finally found love."

The room burst into laughter.

Sarthak picked up the nearest notebook and threw it directly at Kunal.

"Idiot."

"I found a player."

That single sentence erased everyone's smiles.

Even Kushagra's attention sharpened.

---

"A player?"

Harish adjusted his glasses.

"Professional?"

"I don't know."

"Streamer?"

"I don't know."

"National Rank?"

"I don't know."

Vedant frowned.

"What exactly do you know?"

Sarthak took a slow breath.

"I know..."

"...that they made me stop thinking about retirement."

Silence.

No one interrupted.

"Yesterday I queued on my alternate account."

"I was distracted."

"I made mistakes I normally wouldn't."

"Then this player appeared."

"They covered every mistake without me asking."

"They predicted rotations before I even made them."

"They never overextended."

"They never hesitated."

"They simply..."

He searched for the right word.

"...understood."

Kushagra's fingers stopped moving across the keyboard.

That description...

Interested him.

---

Arush folded his arms.

"What's the ID?"

Sarthak turned his phone around.

One name appeared on the screen.

LUNERIA

Nobody recognized it.

Kunal scratched his head.

"Never heard of them."

Harish nodded.

"No tournament records."

Vedant searched the leaderboard.

"No professional tag either."

Kushagra remained quiet.

His eyes lingered on the name for only a second.

"Luneria..."

He repeated it softly.

Then looked toward Sarthak.

"You trust your instincts?"

"I do."

Kushagra nodded once.

"Then let's test them."

---

An hour later...

Five monitors displayed five unfamiliar accounts.

None of them belonged to Team Orion.

Their real identities remained hidden.

Kushagra's alternate account:

Noctis

Kunal's alternate account:

Inferno

Harish's alternate account:

Echo

Vedant's alternate account:

Storm

Sarthak's alternate account:

Atlas

Kunal stretched dramatically.

"I still think these names sound cooler than our real IDs."

Harish didn't even look up.

"They're supposed to be anonymous."

"Not dramatic."

---

Sarthak opened his friends list.

Luneria.

Online.

His friend request from the previous night had been accepted without a single message.

No greeting.

No introduction.

Nothing.

Exactly the kind of player who let gameplay speak louder than words.

He sent an invitation.

A custom five-versus-five challenge.

For a few moments...

Nothing happened.

Then...

Invitation Accepted.

Kunal cracked his knuckles.

"Looks like our mystery player isn't scared."

Vedant smiled.

"I like confident people."

Kushagra leaned back in his chair.

His voice remained calm.

"Remember."

"We're here to observe."

"Not to reveal ourselves."

Everyone nodded.

No one mentioned Orion.

No one used their professional accounts.

To the mysterious player called Luneria...

These were simply five strangers from the internet.

---

The custom lobby loaded.

On one side...

Noctis.

Inferno.

Echo.

Storm.

Atlas.

Five anonymous players.

Five professionals.

On the opposite side...

Luneria.

And four completely random solo queue teammates.

One glance was enough for Sarthak to recognize them.

Average rankings.

Average statistics.

No coordination.

Kunal whistled softly.

"Poor guy."

Sarthak corrected him automatically.

"Or girl."

The room chuckled.

Kushagra didn't smile.

His gaze remained fixed on one name.

Luneria.

For reasons he couldn't explain...

He felt strangely curious.

The countdown appeared.

3...

2...

1...

The battlefield opened.

And somewhere in Mumbai...

Without knowing who waited on the other side of the screen...

A mysterious player wearing a black hoodie quietly adjusted the keyboard.

Those dark brown eyes narrowed with focus.

The game had begun.

The loading screen faded.

The battlefield opened beneath a sky streaked with crimson and gold.

Inside Orion Headquarters...

Five of India's greatest professional players sat in complete silence.

No one spoke.

No one joked.

This wasn't an official scrim.

Yet everyone subconsciously slipped into professional mode.

---

Kushagra-Noctis.

Kunal-Inferno.

Harish-Echo.

Vedant-Storm.

Sarthak-Atlas.

Five alternate accounts.

Five hidden identities.

Across the map...

One unfamiliar name quietly appeared.

Luneria.

Surrounded by four ordinary solo-queue teammates.

Kunal looked at the loading screen and couldn't help laughing.

"Poor fellow."

"Looks like matchmaking wasn't kind today."

Harish folded his arms.

"Don't underestimate anyone before the game begins."

Sarthak never took his eyes off Luneria's profile.

"I have a feeling..."

"...this won't be as easy as it looks."

Kushagra said nothing.

His fingers rested lightly on the keyboard.

Calm.

Relaxed.

Patient.

Just as they always were before every championship match.

---

Game Start.

The first three minutes were almost uneventful.

Both teams focused on farming.

Rotations remained standard.

No unnecessary risks.

Then...

Kunal frowned.

"Captain."

"Hmm?"

"Watch the minimap."

Kushagra glanced at it for barely a second.

His expression changed ever so slightly.

Luneria...

Had already predicted Orion's first objective rotation.

Without vision.

Without information.

Pure instinct.

"Hm."

It was the first sound Kushagra had made since the match began.

---

On the opposite side of the battlefield...

Luneria's teammates were exactly what Sarthak had expected.

One ignored pings.

Another chased eliminations instead of objectives.

The marksman overextended twice in less than four minutes.

An ordinary ranked team.

Uncoordinated.

Messy.

Difficult to carry.

Yet...

Luneria never complained.

No angry messages.

No blame.

No frustration.

Every mistake made by a teammate was quietly covered.

"Interesting..."

Harish whispered.

"They're adapting to everyone else's mistakes."

---

Five minutes in...

Inferno attempted the first ambush.

It was perfectly timed.

Or at least...

It should have been.

Before he even reached the bush...

Luneria had already moved away.

Kunal blinked.

"...What?"

"No ward."

"No vision."

"How did they know?"

Harish immediately answered.

"They counted your jungle path."

Kunal stared at the screen.

"Seriously?"

Sarthak smiled.

"I told you."

---

A few minutes later...

Storm fired a long-range skill shot.

Luneria sidestepped before the animation had even finished.

Vedant burst into laughter.

"Okay!"

"Now that's impressive."

---

The game slowly became more intense.

Every lane except Luneria's began collapsing.

Random teammates wandered without purpose.

Objectives were stolen.

Two players disconnected briefly because of unstable internet.

Kunal sighed.

"Yeah..."

"This is over."

Just then...

The impossible happened.

Luneria disappeared from the map.

Three seconds later...

Inferno fell.

Another two seconds...

Storm was forced to retreat with barely a sliver of health.

Then Atlas.

A perfect flank.

A perfect combo.

A perfect escape.

The room fell silent.

Even Kushagra's fingers paused for the briefest moment.

The replay appeared automatically.

No mistakes.

No lucky critical hit.

Only flawless execution.

Kunal leaned back in disbelief.

"...Did..."

"...did I just get outplayed?"

Vedant laughed loudly.

"Oh, you definitely did."

---

The match continued.

Although Luneria's team kept losing objectives...

One thing became painfully obvious.

Every successful fight belonged to one player.

Luneria.

One versus one.

Two versus one.

Even escaping impossible situations.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Harish quietly observed every movement.

"They're not reacting."

"They're planning."

Sarthak nodded.

"Exactly."

---

Twenty-three minutes into the match...

The score looked one-sided.

Orion's anonymous squad controlled almost every major objective.

Yet...

The damage statistics told a completely different story.

Luneria.

Highest damage dealt.

Highest objective participation.

Highest vision score.

Highest team-fight contribution.

Despite being on the losing side.

Kunal whistled.

"That's..."

"...actually ridiculous."

---

Then came the final fight.

Luneria's four teammates rushed forward recklessly.

Within seconds...

They were eliminated.

Five against one.

The audience in any normal ranked game would have already accepted defeat.

Instead...

Luneria stepped forward.

Not backward.

Forward.

The next thirty seconds stunned everyone inside Orion Headquarters.

A perfect dodge.

Counterattack.

Retreat.

Re-engage.

Another elimination.

Storm fell.

Inferno barely escaped.

Echo was forced to recall.

Atlas lost almost half his health.

Even Noctis...

Kushagra himself...

Was forced to abandon an aggressive chase because Luneria had anticipated his route and punished the attempt with surgical precision.

For the first time in years...

Someone had made Night retreat.

Not because he was losing.

Because staying any longer would've been reckless.

The room was utterly silent.

Kunal slowly removed one side of his headset.

"...Captain..."

"Did..."

"...did that player just pressure you?"

Kushagra's eyes remained on the screen.

"Yes."

One word.

Nothing more.

---

But reality eventually caught up.

Skill could only compensate for so much.

One player could not overcome the coordination of five professionals forever.

With teammates already defeated and every objective lost...

Luneria finally fell.

The crystal shattered.

DEFEAT.

The results screen appeared.

Nobody spoke.

Not immediately.

Sarthak looked at the statistics first.

Then smiled.

"I knew it."

Arush, who had been silently watching from behind the players, stepped closer.

"What?"

Sarthak pointed at the screen.

"Losing team."

"Yet highest impact in the entire match."

Harish nodded in agreement.

"If Luneria had four players of even average competitive discipline..."

"...this game would've been much closer."

Vedant folded his arms.

"I'd even say we might have lost."

Kunal didn't argue.

For once.

He simply stared at the name glowing on the monitor.

LUNERIA.

Kushagra finally stood.

His expression remained as unreadable as ever.

But there was something different in his eyes.

Curiosity.

The kind he hadn't felt in a very long time.

He looked toward Sarthak.

"You were right."

The veteran smiled.

"So..."

Kushagra slipped his hands into his pockets and walked toward the door.

Without turning around, he said calmly,

"Tell Arush to begin looking into this player."

He paused for just a second.

"And don't assume..."

"...that Luneria is a man."

The door closed softly behind him.

Inside the room...

No one noticed the faint smile that had appeared on Sarthak's face.

Because somewhere in Mumbai...

An anonymous player had just earned something no ranked victory could ever offer.

The respect of Night.

And without realizing it...

Luneria had taken the very first step toward the empty chair waiting inside Team Orion.