The room is dimly lit, bathed in a soft neon glow from RGB strips lining the shelves and the backside of the desk. A half-empty mug of coffee sits next to a controller, and the only sounds are the high-energy background music of a boss fight and the chaotic banter coming through Aiden's headset.

Aiden, hoodie slightly askew and eyes locked on the screen, moves with sharp focus. His mic picks up rapid breathing and occasional muttering. On another monitor, Discord is open: a private voice channel titled "🌙 Night Owls – Do Not Disturb."

Aiden (gritting his teeth): "He's going airborne—wait—Jules, left! Your left! Damn it!"

Jules (over Discord): "I said I was reloading! Maybe if someone had actually pinged the boss—"

Ryan: "Okay, okay, let's not start pointing fingers—especially not at the guy carrying our sorry asses."

Aiden (grinning as he scores a critical hit): "Thank you, Ryan. Finally, some respect. Honestly, I should start charging coaching fees."

Maya: "You can charge us when you stop dying first every raid night."

Aiden lets out a bark of laughter, sitting back for a second as the boss roars and collapses to the ground in-game. Cheers erupt through Discord as the loot chest opens.

Aiden: "And that, my friends, is how you make a comeback. Thank you for attending my TED Talk. Loot responsibly."

Jules: "Dude, it's 2:30. Some of us have meetings at 9."

Aiden: "Correction: we all have meetings at 9. I just happen to be a master of pretending I slept. Watch—button-up shirt, coffee, and vague nodding. No one suspects a thing."

Ryan: "Man, the dual life you lead is wild. Office by day, sweaty DPS demon by night."

Maya: "It's like Batman, but instead of saving Gotham, he's speedrunning dungeon drops."

Aiden (mock serious): "Hey—someone's gotta keep the loot economy running."

He sighs, rubbing his eyes, the fatigue catching up with him. The tone shifts just a little.

Aiden (softly): "Honestly, I needed this tonight. Thanks, guys. Work's been... yeah."

Jules (gently): "You good, dude?"

Aiden: "Yeah. Just tired of pretending, you know? But it's fine. It's always fine. Anyway—I'm crashing before I regret this in the morning."

Ryan: "Same here. See you in the trenches tomorrow."

Maya: "Sleep well, office Batman."

Aiden (smiling): "Night, team."

He closes Discord, takes a long breath, then shuts off the monitor. The LED lights dim slowly as he leans back, staring up at the ceiling. In a few hours, he'll be someone else again.

Morning traffic roars outside the tall glass walls of Bellmont Tech, a sleek tech firm tucked into the heart of the city. Inside, it's clean, sterile almost—white walls, motivational posters, and the ever-present smell of burnt coffee. Keyboards clack rhythmically in the background. At 8:05 a.m. sharp, the elevator doors open with a soft ding.

Aiden steps out.

Gone is the hoodie and chaos of last night. Now, he's dressed in a neatly ironed dress shirt tucked into slim-fit slacks, a dark blazer thrown over one shoulder. His hair is tamed, his posture crisp, his ID badge clipped just right. Aiden Cross—Product Designer. Efficient. Focused. Not a single trace of "Nightstream" remains... at least on the surface.

He checks his phone briefly, silencing a Discord ping, and walks into the open-concept workspace. A few familiar coworkers nod at him. He nods back—cool, distant. He's good at this game too: the office persona.

He heads to the front reception, where a young person—fresh-faced and slightly overwhelmed—stands holding a branded Bellmont folder and a coffee cup that's already trembling in their hand.

Aiden slows his pace as he approaches, then offers a casual, reassuring smile.

"Hey there. You must be the new hire. Welcome to Bellmont. I'm Aiden—product design team. Don't worry, everyone's still pretending to know what they're doing here. You'll fit right in."

He extends a hand to shake. His tone is warm but professional—years of practice layering charm over exhaustion. His voice is friendly... but if you were paying close attention, there's something familiar about it. Maybe the cadence. Maybe the dry wit. Maybe the slight rasp that sneaks in at the end of his sentences...

"First day nerves? Or are you one of those people who actually likes new beginnings?"

He smiles again, this time a bit more genuine—and just for a split second, it's the same grin from last night's game session.