In This Moment, the World Was a Little Quiet
Right now, in this instant, the world felt a little hushed.
"Pudge? Why'd you suddenly go quiet?"
Crisu's worried question about my sudden silence, Aranggaiger dancing right in the middle of top lane to pull all the aggro in allchat,
Crisu reading meaning into my silence, my stream chat going wild—none of it mattered anymore.
The only thing that mattered right now was that Proud was right in front of me.
Why he'd queued on a smurf? Didn't matter. Why he'd matched with me? Irrelevant.
I was standing before Proud.
Before, that fact alone would've ignited my competitive fire. I'd have felt inferiority, envy, anger, jealousy.
But none of that now.
What I felt was terror—the fear that my last shred of pride would be crushed, contempt for my own pathetic, fragile self.
The moment laning phase began, I broke the silence.
"Crisu, sorry, but this game? I'm focusing on lane."
"Huh?"
"Huh???"
Win lane? Of course...
No.
I didn't have a single gram of confidence I'd win lane. I'd always believed next time, this time I'd beat Proud—but that wasn't true confidence.
Especially not now, as a woman who'd quit pro play, my skills decayed. No such thing existed.
Instead, I was scared.
Scared of how brutally he'd humiliate me like yesterday, how miserably he'd crush me next. My legs shook.
...But.
Had I ever run from a head-on clash with Proud, even once?
No.
Whenever the chance came, I'd always given my all. Fought without fleeing.
Solo, duo, fair and square, dirty tricks, on clean arena floors or mud pits.
Time didn't matter. Place didn't. Who I was didn't. Who he was? Everything.
I despised myself for feeling this fear.
Yet today, I declare to Proud: victory.
"This game? I'm winning it."
Saying I'd focus on lane wasn't because I wanted to lose or fight Proud "fairly" without orders.
In my current state, calling shots across all lanes was impossible. It was the only choice.
Proud's laning was destructive—brutal for anyone not top-tier. Only me, AOD, or Hansam's Saber could hold it.
Not just overwhelming stats; stand with him, and suddenly you're losing the game. Proud wielded his power and skill with cunning precision.
Fighting him while split-focused? Arrogance. Without full team comms, cutting orders was inevitable.
Half-assed calls? He'd notice.
Never forget: world's best mid, top of the throne. One slip, he snowballs. Pure mechanics dominate.
His Revolutionary didn't dodge mine. He might remember my name. After killing it as Gladiator yesterday, no need to dodge now.
Normally, Revolutionary dodges, Ronin pressures. Reversed. Mid control? Already his.
Stream chat probably flaming me for losing early.
True. Pressuring sloppily? Just feel the gap deeper, explode sooner.
Wait. Endure humiliation, strike at the moment. Proud's the best, but I've never thought unbeatable. He's human.
Humans err.
I farmed CS max, biding time. Skill gap doesn't erase matchups. He wouldn't overextend for kills.
Revolutionary's ult equalizes levels—useless vs weaker foes, sealed.
I wouldn't neglect my growth to deny it—that's dumb. But being weaker? Huge edge.
Mid-lane, I spoke first. Time.
"Enemy jungler's ganking bot. Pull back now, rotate mid. No dive angle, tell ADC hold solo. Enemy vision on our jungle side—flash river to dodge, mid bush path."
"Huh? Oh, got it!"
Called support, pinged our jungler for backup. Guessed wards, but confident. Crisu obliged despite wasting flash on dumb gank call.
Normally insane. Revolutionary farming fine, pushing tower. Responding? Low-odds gamble.
But who am I?
Dice.
Now a fluffy, stumbling Pudge Dice, but essence unchanged.
Always a gambler.
Proud sidestepped our Barbarian Warrior gank after I joined. No expectations.
But behind him: Crisu's Sentry blocking.
Even Proud can't dodge: human error. Overconfidence.
Didn't expect this hunt.
Sentry shield blocks. Revolutionary flashes to CC it.
Trapped.
But I stopped Crisu advancing.
"Back off."
"Huh? This?"
"Just back."
She did, confused. Good. Looked trapped, but I knew better. Our bot escaped early; enemy jungler had turns left.
Linger? We'd get sucked in. Our jungler smart—dodged double kill.
Cost: mid/bot CS, jungler turn, support flash. Took his flash, forced TP home.
Huge loss trade.
Didn't matter.
Enough.
Target wasn't Proud.
With eyes on mid, I gave mid to support.
"Farm mid CS."
"...Me?"
"Yeah."
Pretended base, rotated top with jungler.
Target: Aranggaiger.
Her Kunoichi: rogue ranged, close-range bully, tanky vs ganks. Top melees' nemesis—Arang hates it, but loves vs melee picks.
Squishy, drops off hard on death.
Crisu's Sentry useless vs it—better mid cover. Enemy assumes Sentry mid while I'm base.
Too late when they realize.
Arang won't back—even vs 3, confirmed. Orders from Proud? Ignores allies.
No Proud plan. His flash/TP gone. No top defense.
Kill Arang, open top.
My win design.
Enemy team infighting obvious, thanks to Aranggaiger's allchat aggro.
I thought, unbidden: Maybe we win.
...Knew I shouldn't.
"...Ah, s-sorry."
Crisu's apology turned my head. Revolutionary dived, killed mid-covering Sentry.
"What happened?"
"...Just dove, all skills hit, dodged mine, killed me—ulted pre-death for armor/HP tank, tower survived."
Ha, dived Sentry? As Revolutionary? Normally dies to tower first. Killed it, ulted out.
...Top vs mid exploding? Worlds apart. Support death, but Revolutionary fed big—mid tower half-down.
Game not over.
Potential left.
If I hold mid somehow, top gains snowball. Revolutionary value high, but our top Spearman. High skill floor, but digests? Value/stability skyrockets.
Grow Spearman... somehow...!
Aranggaiger mid. I glanced top.
Revolutionary gripped Spearman throat.
Diabolically timed lane swap.
"...Whoa, enemy Revolutionary is insane."
Game over. My KDA: 1/6/4. His: 11/0/2.
Arang spamming top gap aggro like usual, but really mid gap crushed. All lanes gapped, but my plan made bot/mid losses mine biggest.
Lost.
My fault.
"Ah... LP dropped a bit."
"...Sorry."
My fault we lost.
Familiar, maybe.
"Ah, but wow, LP dropped a ton... huh?"
Not a familiar sensation.
"Kinda bummed, but couldn't hit GMaster. Too late anyway, can't play more."
"Yaaawn... Well, uh hem-hem, gotta... Wait, you okay?"
What the hell? What's okay?
Couldn't grasp, asked back.
"Wh-what's okay, ah, snff, you okay?"
"A-are you... crying?"
Crying? What?
I'm not some girl—well, I am, but first loss to Proud? Nah. Dozens before: Worlds, domestic, scrims, soloq.
Dice doesn't cry over this.
"Ah, hng, kuhk, n-no, not cr-crying."
So,
"D-does calling me noona hate you that much? D-don't cry, stop! Cut it out!"
"N-no, not crying, hng, it's that."
This wasn't tears.
Something not tears,
flowed down my cheeks again today.
"Hnnnggg...!"