The alarm didn't wake me. I was already awake.
5:47 AM. Thirteen minutes before the scheduled time, but my body had learned the rhythm months ago.
Discipline wasn't about forcing yourself out of bed; it was about training your circadian rhythm until sleep became just another optimized system.
I sat up in the cramped studio apartment, which served as both my bedroom and command center, my eyes immediately drawn to the dual-monitor setup across from my bed. The left screen displayed tomorrow's exam schedule.
Advanced Calculus, Classical Literature, and Physics II. All final exams. All guaranteed perfect scores if the practice tests were any indication.
The right screen showed something more critical: a Pokémon Emerald ROM, frozen mid-battle. My Blaziken, nicknamed "Pyre," stood at 1 HP, facing down a Salamence that absolutely should have ended the run three turns ago.
But I'd calculated the damage ranges, manipulated the RNG, and turned a guaranteed loss into a winnable position.
That was six hours ago, before I'd forced myself to sleep.
Samael. Age: 17 years, my birthday is tomorrow. National Rank: #1.
The title felt hollow sometimes. Being the top student in the country sounded impressive until you realized it just meant you'd optimized the system better than everyone else.
School wasn't hard—it was predictable. Study patterns, test formats, teacher expectations—all of it could be analyzed, broken down, and exploited. Especially if you had a photographic memory, as I did.
Just like a Pokémon game.
I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the usual morning notifications. Messages from classmates asking for study help (ignored), college acceptance letters I'd already read (MIT, Stanford, Princeton—all full rides), and a reminder from my calendar: 18th Birthday - Midnight.
Legally an adult in eighteen hours and thirteen minutes.
I should have felt something.
Excitement? Anticipation? Instead, I felt the same calculated calm that had defined my entire life. Everything was going according to plan.
Everything is always according to plan, I thought, pulling on my uniform. That's the problem.
The classroom was a performance.
"Samael, can you explain the thematic significance of the green light in The Great Gatsby?" Mrs. Chen gestured to me, her expression already resigned to whatever answer I'd give.
I barely looked up from my notes. "The green light represents the unreachable dream. Gatsby's obsession with recreating the past. It's symbolic of hope, desire, and the fundamental human tendency to pursue what we can't have, even when logic dictates we should move on."
"Excellent. As always."
The words should have felt like praise. Instead, they were expected.
I tuned out the rest of class, my mind drifting to more critical matters.
Last night's Nuzlocke run had been close, too close. I was attempting something only a masochist would consider: Pokémon Emerald Randomizer, Hardcore Nuzlocke Rules.
The rules were simple and brutal:
If a Pokémon faints, it's dead. Box it forever.
Only catch the first Pokémon in each route. No exceptions.
No healing items during battle. Not even a Potion.
Randomized encounters, meaning I had no idea what I'd face.
Most players called it impossible. I called it interesting.
The lunch bell rang. I grabbed my bag and headed straight for the computer lab. That was my real classroom.
The supervising teacher, Mr. Sato, had long since given up trying to make me socialize. As long as I aced his programming class, he didn't care what I did during free period.
I logged into my desktop and pulled up the ROM file. The Salamence battle waited, frozen in time.
"Alright, Pyre," I murmured, studying the damage calculator I'd built in a separate window. "We've got a 73% chance to survive Dragon Claw if I switch to Swampert, tank the hit, then swap back for Blaze-boosted Flamethrower. That's assuming standard AI behavior and no critical hit."
My fingers moved across the keyboard, executing the plan frame by frame.
Switch. Tank. Return. Flamethrower.
The Salamence's HP bar dropped to zero.
[Pyre grew to Level 52!]
I exhaled, feeling the familiar rush that no perfect exam score could replicate.
This wasn't a matter of memorization or pattern recognition.
Taking broken mechanics, impossible odds, and limited resources, then forging them into victory through pure understanding.
"You're insane, you know that?"
I glanced up. Kenji, one of the few people in school who actually talked to me, leaned against the doorframe. He was grinning, his own laptop tucked under one arm.
"Insane would be attempting this run without the damage calculator," I replied, saving my progress.
"No, insane is doing it at all. Emerald Kaizo Randomizer with no items?" Kenji shook his head. "That's not even fun. That's digital self-harm."
"It's the only thing that gets me going." I closed the ROM, stretching. "Anyone can beat Pokémon with items and infinite retries. The challenge is doing it with restrictions. Finding the one path through chaos where skill matters more than luck."
"And when will you finish this run?" Kenji asked. "What then? Ultra Moon Nuzlocke with your eyes closed?"
I actually considered it. "Maybe. Or I could finally try ROM hacking. Build my own impossible game."
"You need a life, Sam."
"I have a life. I'm ranked #1 in the country."
"Exactly my point." Kenji pushed off the doorframe. "Anyway, a group of us are hitting karaoke tonight for your birthday. You coming?"
"Can't. Final exams tomorrow."
"You could take those tests drunk and still get perfect scores."
"Maybe. But why introduce variables?"
Kenji sighed. "One day you're going to realize that optimizing everything makes life boring, man. But whatever. Happy early birthday, I guess."
He left.
I stared at the blank monitor, his words echoing in my head.
Optimizing everything makes life boring.
Was he right? Or was he just someone who'd never experienced the satisfaction of a perfectly executed plan?
I checked my phone: 11:47 PM. Thirteen minutes until midnight. Thirteen minutes until absolutely nothing in this poor existence I call a life would happen.
I shouldn't have left the apartment.
The exams were tomorrow. Well, actually now.
Midnight had passed while I was deep in another Nuzlocke attempt, and my stomach had staged a rebellion around 12:30 AM.
The convenience store was three blocks away. I could grab instant ramen, get back, sleep for four hours, and still wake up fresh for the tests.
The streets were.empty, The usual chaos reduced to the occasional taxi and the hum of vending machines.
I walked quickly, hands in my pockets, mentally reviewing calculus formulas while simultanetheorizingafting whether my Nuzlocke Gardevoir could survive a critical hit from...
My phone buzzed.
I pulled it out without slowing down, reading the notification. Forum post on the ROM hacking board: "New Emerald Randomizer seed with perfect stat distribution—check this out!"
I opened it and scrolled rolling through the seed data. This was interesting. If I applied this to my current run, I could potentially get a Pokémon with—
The horn blared too late.
I looked up and saw massive headlights. A delivery truck, barreling through the intersection I'd just stepped into without looking.
Oh, I thought with perfect clarity. I fucked up.
The impact felt like being hit by a meteor. My phone flew from my hand, my body ragdolled through the air, and the world became a confused blur of pain and screeching tires and...
Nothing.
Then, slowly, I became aware of myself again.
I opened my eyes.
Everything was wThere. There weren't any walls, floor or ceiling, but a space that streinfinitelynitely in all directions.
I looked down at my hands, flexing fingers that should have been shattered.
But there was no pain.