Clifton POV

The next round began. Clifton bought the sniper rifle. Full shields. All equipment.

The barrier dropped. He didn't wait for his team. He pushed straight toward the same site where Justice had killed him. Planted himself in the exact same position. Scoped in on the exact same angle.

Come on. Do it again. I dare you.

Justice's character model appeared at the edge of his scope, crossing the same gap. The name Ember glowed red in Clifton's crosshair.

Clifton didn't adjust. He didn't flick. He just waited for Justice to walk into it.

The sniper rifle thundered.

Ash eliminated Ember with a headshot.

No duel. No exchange. An execution. Justice had walked directly into a bullet that was already waiting for him.

Across the room, Justice's hands flew off his keyboard. The gray death screen reflected off his pale, startled face.

Clifton stared at the kill feed. The words gave him nothing. No satisfaction. Only a hollow, gnawing frustration.

Killing Justice hadn't answered any of his questions. It had only made him more aware of how badly he wanted answers.

For the rest of the match, Clifton played like a demon. He led the first team on an absolute slaughter. The academy team couldn't get a single round. First team closed it out with a crushing, humiliating scoreline.

The moment the match ended, the bright overhead lights snapped on.

Coach Alger kicked the door open. His face was thunderous. "Everyone to the VOD review room! Now!"

Clifton POV

The VOD review room was suffocating. On the massive projector screen, the clip of Clifton missing his shot and getting eliminated by Justice played on a continuous, humiliating loop.

Alger slammed his tablet onto the table. Pointed a thick finger at Clifton's face.

"What the hell was that missed shot?! Your flick used to be the one thing I never had to worry about! Now you're getting out-aimed by a rookie who just walked into our base three days ago?!"

Clifton sat slouched in his chair, arms crossed. His face was stone. He absorbed the coach's fury without a word.

He couldn't explain that his wrist felt like it was tearing apart. He couldn't say he missed because he was distracted by the liar's burn.

Standing in the back row, Justice bit down hard on his lower lip. He watched Clifton getting screamed at. A flash of intense guilt crossed his eyes.

Suddenly, Justice took a step forward. His voice was hoarse and shaky.

"It wasn't his fault. I… I exploited a blind spot. It was a lucky angle."

Clifton snapped his head around. His glare was so vicious, so full of warning, that Justice flinched as if struck.

Shut up.

To Clifton, Justice pleading for him was the ultimate humiliation. The winner throwing crumbs to the loser.

Justice shrank back into the corner, shoulders hunching, making himself as small as possible.

Alger finished tearing into Clifton and turned his fire on Branson, ripping into his chaotic comms and garbage positioning.

After the review, Alger kept Clifton behind.

"Are you dealing with a physical issue?"

Clifton's stomach tightened. He forced a careless smirk. "No. Just didn't sleep well. Won't happen again."

Alger sighed. He didn't believe a word. "The sponsors are pissed about our lack of exposure. You have a streaming hours obligation. You need to go live on Twitch tonight."

Clifton's jaw clenched.

"That new kid, Justice? He's practicing sixteen hours a day. You're the captain. You can't be the one leading the rot."

Justice's name hit Clifton like gasoline on a fire.

He stood up and walked out, letting the door slam behind him.

Clifton POV

At 8 PM, Clifton sat in his private streaming room. He adjusted the webcam, tilting it up so the frame only showed his chest and face. The fresh black brace wrapped around his right wrist had to stay invisible.

Delmus rolled in a cart of sponsor-branded energy drinks. Clifton grabbed a Monster, popped the tab with his left hand, and took a slow sip. The sugar and caffeine would inflame his joints. He didn't care.

"The lights in the basement are still on," Delmus said. "That Justice kid is in the alcove again. He's going to kill himself playing like that."

Clifton's fingers crushed the aluminum can.

Delmus left.

Clifton stared at the "Start Streaming" button. He clicked it.

The viewer count exploded. Thousands per second. The chat became a blur of screaming fans and toxic haters.

Did Ash really get solo-killed by a nobody trainee?

Is the god washed?

Clifton read the comments. His eyes were ice. Normally, he'd have his moderators start banning. Tonight, he didn't.

He leaned into his microphone. "Since you all care so much about the new kid, let's do something special."

He opened the Aegis internal Discord. Found the ID he was looking for.

Ember.

Justice was sitting alone in a locked, password-protected voice channel. Solo practice.

A cruel smile curved Clifton's lips. He used his server administrator rights. Clicked and dragged his own icon—Ash—directly into Justice's locked room.

A sharp ding echoed in his headset.

The frantic clacking of Justice's keyboard instantly stopped. Like someone had pulled the plug on his life support.

Clifton didn't say a word. He just listened to the heavy, ragged, panicked breathing coming through Justice's microphone.

Fifty thousand viewers heard the dead silence.

Clifton spoke slowly. "Let me introduce you all. This is the genius tryout who 'solo killed' me this afternoon. Ember."

The chat exploded.

Ten seconds of agonizing silence. Then a sound came through the headset.

"Captain." Justice's voice was faint. Trembling.

"Get in the lobby," Clifton ordered. "Let's see if Ember can do it again in front of fifty thousand people."