Kalen sat hunched on the edge of his bed, the blue glow of the television screen casting deep shadows across his face. His fingers were curled tightly around the controller, the plastic slick with sweat. Every muscle in his body was locked in place, tense like a coiled spring. He hadn't blinked in minutes. Not while the boss loomed.
The room was silent, unnervingly so. No hum from the mini-fridge. No cars rolling past outside. No wind rattling the loose pane above his desk. Just the subtle hum of electronics and the relentless clicking of the controller under Kalen's fingers.
Sleep clawed at the edges of his vision, but he shoved it aside. It was the third night in a row he'd stayed up past 3 a.m., fingers aching, eyes dry. The game had a hold on him 'Apex Leveling' a brutal, pixel-sharp role playing game that was somehow both ancient and impossibly advanced. It had shown up online one night, hidden in a corner of a forum neither he nor his best friend Ben remembered bookmarking.
It wasn't in stores. Not in any database. But the moment they downloaded it, they were hooked.
The screen erupted in color as his character lunged forward, blades flashing, pixels trailing behind like comet dust. Kalen's heart pounded. A single misstep and the whole match would end.
He flinched as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple, tickling its way along his cheek before dripping onto the controller. The cold sensation startled him.
He took a sharp breath.
"Come on," he whispered.
He was one hit away. The boss had him backed into a corner one wrong combo, and it was game over. Again.
Then it happened.
The enemy dodged faster than any opponent Kalen had ever faced and countered with a slash that carved half his remaining health bar away. Kalen's jaw clenched. His thumb hesitated over the 'block' button for a split second too long.
The final blow came fast.
A crimson flash. A triumphant fanfare.
TRY AGAIN
Kalen slumped back with a groan. "No way…"
And then of course came the voice.
"Told you I'm better."
Ben stood in the doorway, arms folded, smugness practically radiating off him. He wore his usual threadbare hoodie and a look that said 'I've been watching you fail for twenty minutes straight'.
Kalen groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. "You could've said something helpful."
Ben shrugged. "Nah. Watching you suffer builds character."
"Builds my desire to throw you out a window."
"You'd have to beat me first."
The challenge hung in the air between them.
Kalen rolled his eyes, but a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. He tapped the restart button, and the screen reset in a blink, booting up the eerie, lo-fi menu music. Characters danced across the screen in stuttering loops—pixelated warriors, undead samurai, glitchy time travelers. All grotesquely beautiful. Each one unique. Each one dangerous.
"Alright," Ben said, stepping into the room. "One match. Then food. I'm starving."
Kalen nodded absently, already scrolling through the character roster. His thumb paused over a cloaked figure shrouded in flickering static. The name under the avatar simply read: "NOVA"
He'd seen it before never unlocked it. Now it pulsed faintly, as if calling to him.
"I'm picking this one," he muttered.
Ben leaned in for a look. "Seriously? That guy? He's a glitch. Probably crashes the game."
"Or maybe he's a secret boss. Could be powerful."
"Could be trash."
Kalen selected the character. A distorted sound echoed from the TV like someone exhaling inside a metal tunnel.
Ben frowned. "That was new."
"Yeah. Cool, right?"
"Cool like cursed."
Kalen just grinned. "Pick your downfall."
Ben dramatically scrolled through the list before settling on the most ridiculous character in the game: "ASHER QUI". The weakest fighter. A scrawny time mage with paper armor and the weakest stats across the board. The game developers hadn't assigned any abilities to the character yet, so they locked all his skills—leaving him with nothing but a basic weapon to survive.
Kalen blinked. "You're joking."
Ben winked. "What's the fun in playing fair?"
"You do realize you're about to get destroyed, right?"
Ben smirked. "Maybe. Maybe not."
Kalen narrowed his eyes. Something about Ben's confidence felt off. Not his usual trash-talk. He was too calm.
The moment both players pressed 'Ready,' the screen flickered. The music warped into a low, droning hum.
The arena loaded slowly far more slowly than normal. The background was different too. Instead of the usual temple or cityscape, the arena was… black.
Just black.
The characters loaded in, standing on what looked like an endless void. No textures. No sky. No audience.
"Did you pick a custom stage?" Kalen asked.
Ben shook his head. "Did you?"
"Nope."
They shared a look.
"Doesn't matter where we play. All I know is I'm gonna win," Kalen said, his voice determined.
Ben chuckled. "Amateur."
And then the game began.
The fight was fierce faster than either of them remembered. The controls felt sharper. Kalen's character moved with unnatural precision, dodging, countering, predicting Ben's combos before he even input them. The screen pulsed with each hit, the colors strangely vivid, almost alive.
Their fingers flew. Controllers clicked like mad. Each breath was shallow. Every second, electric.
The two characters clashed with incredible force, each displaying a mastery of wildly different skills. One moved like a shadow—swift, silent, precise while the other exploded with raw power, every strike shaking the ground beneath them. Sparks flew as weapons collided, sending shockwaves through the air. Dodges turned into counters, counters into combos, and every movement felt like part of a deadly dance.
Kalen's game character weaved through attacks with fluid agility, reading his opponent's every move. His rival, fierce and relentless, responded with brutal strength and unpredictable techniques. Their battle lit up the battlefield, drawing awe from anyone who watched. Dust rose, trees cracked, and the sky above seemed to darken with the storm of their clash.
No one could tell whose character would win it was skill against instinct, strategy against fury. In that moment, it wasn't just a fight it was a game of pride, and neither planned to lose.
Just as the two boys were deep into the game, timing their moves, ready to launch their special attacks against each other, the screen froze.
Kalen's character mid-slash. Ben's frozen mid-leap.
A horrible tearing sound filled the room.
The screen flickered.
And went black.
They sat in stunned silence.
Kalen was the first to speak. "Did it... crash?"
Ben tapped the controller. Nothing. "Maybe?"
Kalen tried the console's power button. Still nothing.
Ben bent down to check the plugs. "It's all connected. Power's on."
Kalen rubbed his eyes. "I was just on this game yesterday none of this was there."
"That was yesterday," Ben replied. "Something might be wrong with it now."
"I don't think so," Kalen muttered, still trying to make sense of it. "Everything worked perfectly fine yesterday."
Ben raised a brow. "Could it be the TV?"
Kalen slowly shook his head. "No... this isn't just a glitch. This feels different."
"This? What" Ben began, but was interrupted by the TV suddenly switching on. Only static flickered across the screen in sharp black-and-white waves.
Kalen tensed, his shoulders drawing up.
A distorted voice barely audible emerged from the static. It sounded like a whisper echoing through water.
"WELCOME."
Both boys froze.
"…Did you hear that?" Ben asked quietly.
Kalen didn't answer. His eyes were locked on the screen.
The menu reappeared suddenly. But something had changed. The background was now… moving. Like a slow pan through an abandoned cathedral. Shadows flickered across the stone floor. There were no menu options. No character list.
Just one word: "ENTER TO CONTINUE?"
Ben looked at Kalen. "We should turn it off and restart the game."
Kalen hesitated. "Maybe it's part of the game? Or a new update?"
"Kalen, this game isn't normal. We've played for weeks and never seen anything like this. This so-called update might damage your TV," Ben replied, his voice tight.
Kalen smirked, though his hand trembled slightly on the controller. "What's wrong, Ben? Scared I might actually beat you this time?"
Ben paused, letting out a slow breath. The sting of Kalen's teasing was clear, but he refused to let it show. He narrowed his eyes and muttered, "Keep wishing. Just press the start button already."
"That's more like it," Kalen said.
But even as his finger moved toward the button, the air in the room seemed to thicken. The static on the screen grew louder, angrier. The temperature dropped.
Ben took a step back. "Kalen, wait—"
Too late.
Kalen pressed enter.
The room went white.
The light was too intense to bear, forcing both of them to shut their eyes instinctively. There was no time to react. No scream. Just a blinding flash of light, followed by a pulse of energy that knocked both boys backward. They crashed against the wall and instantly lost consciousness, as if a bomb had gone off inside the TV.
And then
Silence******