*"When you're born without a map, you have two choices: follow other people's paths or hack the system to carve your own."*
The heat of Cotonou was pounding that afternoon. Arzane lay on his mattress, staring at a crack in the ceiling that looked like a map of the world—a map he'd never had the means to explore. It's been five years since his parents died, five years since he'd lived with his aunt, constantly feeling like he was in the way.
Five thousand CFA francs a week. Three thousand for the internet. Two thousand for food, when he could. No luxuries, no wild dreams, just a cracked smartphone and a will that refused to die.
"Do you think the internet will lift you up?!" His aunt's voice pierced through the thin walls like punches. "Go follow your cousin; at least he's working!"
Arzane clutched his damaged phone. *I wasn't born to obey,* he thought. *I was born to break the cycle. Even if no one sees it yet.*
He quietly left the house and headed for his usual street corner, where the signal was better between two old electricity poles. Mistplay, Gamehag, Thetan Arena... he tried everything that promised "making money by playing." But after hours of digital labor, the truth exploded in his face: these games were won by them, not for them.
Discouragement grew stronger when he came across a blurry video. A game still unknown to the general African public: Genesis, The Eternal Hunt. A fully immersive MMORPG via neural capsule. A world where everything was earned, discovered, and built. There was no question of buying one's victory.
A comment caught his attention: "No money needed. Just willpower. Here, you can be reborn."
This wasn't just a game. It was a new, virgin world, where his name could count.
The memory came back to him abruptly. The silent cemetery, five years earlier. Two coffins side by side. Little Arzane staring at the ground, his fists clenched, promising himself he wouldn't end up like them—forgotten, erased, leaving no trace.
A few weeks later, he had saved enough to buy a used immersion capsule on the black market. No warranty, patched-up cables, a manual that mentioned the "risk of nerve burns." He threw it in the trash.
In his room, late at night, he adjusted the electrodes as best he could and slipped into the capsule. The metal creaked under his weight. The screen displayed a red message: "Unstable connection: 12%. High risk of unconsciousness."
Arzane smiled. "Same as usual. If it's not risky, it's not real."
He closed his eyes. His heart pounded in the stillness of the night.
A synthetic voice echoed in his head: "Welcome, Arzane_Alpha. Simulated world loaded at 63%. Adaptive narrative system active. Welcome to Genesis: The Eternal Hunt."
His body faded. Circles of data swirled around him. Light became shadow, shadow became flame.
In the real world, he had nothing. But here, in this universe under construction, he was an infinite possibility.
He didn't yet know that this night would change everything. That Genesis wasn't just a game. And that some doors, once opened, never close.