Savannah Smith opened her eyes in her luxurious game room. The walls, exquisitely decorated with framed posters of gaming legends—Shroud, Valkyrae, -and since his last win- Recoil—blended with the low lighting and rich leather furniture, giving the spacious room an electric charge.
She stretched slowly, the soft hum of her VR headset fading as it powered down. A thin sheen of sweat clung to her skin from the intensity of the last few hours in Eternity's Edge.
Savannah wasn't like most players. She wasn't in it for the glory, or for the leaderboard fame. Not really. She was in it for freedom.
The only daughter of the Smith family dynasty, her life had always been tailored for perfection. Her father, a ruthless oil magnate and also a former gaming enthusiast, never failed to remind her that she'd been a "disappointment"—not because of who she was, but because of what she wasn't.
A son.
He had poured millions into molding her into a socialite. Debutante balls, elite schools, etiquette lessons, interviews. She'd followed the script for years. Played her role. Smiled for the cameras.
But behind those smiles was a girl who found escape in pixels and power-ups.
Savannah had created her in-game avatar—Athena—as a counter to everything her father wanted her to be. In the game, she wasn't a puppet.
She was a shadow. A predator. A tactician.
And now, second place in the Death Race.
Recoil had beaten her. Barely. But she had studied him. Watched him through every checkpoint. She hadn't engaged because she didn't need to—not yet. This was about data. Strategy. Control.
Her fingers moved across the keyboard in front of her, pulling up her race telemetry. Every turn, every acceleration pattern Recoil used—catalogued.
"He's good," she muttered to herself. "But not untouchable." the chirp of her phone interrupted her thoughts. The caller ID read: Dad.
She wasn't ready to hear his voice just yet, he was just likely going to remind her of what he'd wanted her to be. She ignored the call.
Her private AI, Iris, chimed in through her wireless earpiece. "You displayed exceptional restraint, Athena. I estimate your odds of beating Recoil in a direct encounter have now improved to 73%."
"Not good enough," Savannah replied.
"Shall I increase your next training cycle's difficulty to Recoil's last recorded output level?"
"Double it."
There was a pause before Iris responded. "Confirmed. Updated parameters set for the next session."
Savannah stood up from her capsule, brushing strands of honey-blonde hair away from her face. Her gaze moved toward the wall where her gaming trophies sat on floating shelves.
One spot was still empty.
She wasn't after just another prize. She wanted the prize. The one that would fill that empty spot with more than just an artifact or a title. She wanted Recoil's downfall. It wasn't just about proving herself anymore. It was about proving him wrong. The man her father now admired. The man whose name trended while hers remained in the shadows. That had made it personal.
She picked up a nearby tablet and began scanning the race aftermath logs—chat records, visual captures, AI analyses.
Before she could continue, the sharp chirp of her phone again interrupted her thoughts. The caller ID flashed: Dad. She glanced at the screen for a moment, a wave of irritation washing over her. With a swift motion, she hit ignore.
Savannah stood up from her chair, stretching her arms above her head. Her eyes moved toward the floating shelves that lined one side of the room, each one bearing trophies of past victories. A few were gilded, some cracked from use, others pristine.
But one spot was still empty.
That empty space wasn't just a physical void. It was a symbol of something greater—a goal she hadn't reached yet. A victory that still eluded her. It had been that way for too long.
Her eyes flashed with cold determination. "Let's see how long you last, golden boy."
She turned her attention back to the tablet in front of her, swiping through the race aftermath logs—chat records, visual captures, AI analyses. Her fingers froze on one of the entries. An NPC had handed Recoil something rare. Something that had caught her eye.
An artifact key.
The kind Eternity Industries had hinted could open secret zones or bypass core security protocols. Zones where even the most seasoned players had yet to uncover the truth. These weren't just digital treasures; these were potential game-changers. Places where the true secrets of Eternity's Edge were hidden. Secrets that could alter everything.
And secrets, Savannah knew, were power.
"Iris, track the artifact's upload time and location," she ordered, her voice sharp.
"Tracking... Artifact has not yet been uploaded. Current status: vulnerable," Iris replied after a brief pause.
A wicked smile curved across Savannah's lips as she sat up straighter in her chair. This was the break she'd been waiting for.
"Perfect."
"I will initiate tracking protocols," Iris said, a hint of caution in her tone. "Shall I prepare your next course of action?"
Savannah stood, walking towards the console where her combat gear rested. "Make contact with Neo and Dark Lord. It's time to form a temporary alliance."
"You intend to betray them later, correct?"
"Of course. What fun would it be otherwise?" she said with a sly grin, already moving toward the her gaming chair.
As she settled back into her gaming chair, her hands deftly slipped on her VR headset , ready f
or the next stage of her game.
The hunt had officially begun.