Chapter 2

The car pulled into our familiar yet alien suburban neighborhood.

Three years had passed, and the trees had grown lusher.

Yet that pale house still loomed before me like a massive tombstone.

The moment the front door opened, a suffocating cloud of sweet perfume hit me, trying desperately to mask an underlying, stifling tension.

Bang!

The sharp crack of a party popper made me jump, my entire body locking up instantly.

Lulu—the foster daughter my mother had taken in—was holding the empty tube, beaming brightly:

"Jesse! Welcome home!"

Her voice dripped with affectionate sweetness, her eyes practically overflowing with performative longing.

It was as if she weren't the very person who, three years ago, had whispered poison into my mother's ear, claiming I had "a dead-eyed stare," that I "sat grinning like an idiot at the screen all day," and that I was "definitely in the final stages of internet addiction."

I ignored her completely. Without taking off my shoes, I brushed right past her and headed straight for my old bedroom.

The smile on her face froze, instantly morphing into a look of wounded hurt as she turned to my mom, her voice trembling with tears:

"Mom... is Jesse still mad at me? I was only worried about his future back then..."

My mom immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders, cooing softly to console her:

"Jesse just got back, Lulu. He needs time to adjust. Don't take it to heart, it's not your fault."

I pushed my bedroom door open.

The room had been scrubbed spotless. Fresh sheets lay on the bed, and the curtains were pulled wide.

That top-tier PC setup my mom bragged about sat prominently on the desk.

Its monitors were completely black, staring back at me like cold, unblinking eyes.

The sight of that dark screen made my stomach churn with nausea.

I walked quickly over to the bed, crouched down, and reached underneath it.

Seeing the metal tin containing my dad's old game discs sitting undisturbed, I finally let out a long, shaky breath.

Star Odyssey. It was the very first co-op game my dad and I had beaten together before he died.

"Jesse, ready for dinner?" My mom lingered in the doorway, eyeing me cautiously.

"You're so thin... you barely have any color in your cheeks. I made your favorite braised ribs."

I slid the tin back under the bed in silence and followed her to the dining room.

The table was packed with food. It was genuinely lavish.

Lulu was already seated, sweetly ladling soup for my mom.

Halfway through the meal, Lulu brought up a topic with feigned innocence, her gaze laser-focused on my reaction:

"So Jesse... what was that academy really like? Is it as... terrifying as everyone says on Twitter?"

My fork froze for a split second. I lowered my gaze, keeping my voice as flat as humanly possible:

"Just standard. Morning runs, lectures, writing statements about what we'd supposedly done wrong."

"Oh..." She dragged out the syllable, a flicker of disappointment crossing her eyes before she plastered on another sweet smile. "Sounds pretty structured. Guess it wasn't as bad as people say."

"All right, Lulu," my mom cut in, placing a rib onto my plate with forced cheerfulness.

She was trying to chase away the heavy cloud in the room. "Let's leave the past where it belongs. What matters is that he's back. Jesse, think of it as three years of character-building. We start fresh from here."

Lulu pouted slightly and went quiet, picking at her rice.

A moment later, as if remembering something crucial, she dropped her utensils, ran into her room, and emerged holding an exquisitely wrapped gift box, holding it out to me.

"Jesse, I got you a special release present! Happy getting out of—I mean, welcome home!"

I didn't reach for it. I didn't even look up at her.

Unfazed, she giggled and tore the wrapping paper off herself.

Inside lay an ostentatious mechanical keyboard.

Even under the dining room chandelier, its vibrant RGB lighting elements seemed aggressively bright.

My breath caught in my throat. Every drop of blood in my veins turned to ice.

This keyboard was the exact model Lulu had sobbed about three years ago, claiming I had stolen her savings to buy it because of my "gaming obsession."

Back then, my mother had swallowed her lies whole and beaten me black and blue.

Lulu shoved the keyboard closer to my face, her smile twisting into something subtly cruel and gloating:

"What's the matter, Jesse? Didn't you used to love these flashy keyboards? You loved them so much you practically 'borrowed' my money just to get your hands on one."

"Now I'm giving you an even better one. Aren't you thrilled?"

My fork slipped from my fingers and clattered onto the table.