Unequal Starts and Starlit Longing

I shook my head side to side as I took off the gear, realizing that all those meaningless hours wasted scrolling through empty screens had actually been propping me up. The diving machine was great and all, but it always left me itchy afterward. This had been a chronic issue from the old models right up to the current ones. No matter how much cooling you applied, it still felt grimy. Well, since no one actually died, you ended up sweating and everything—no helping it, I guess.

"Phew, gonna live."

After logging out like that, a strange sense of pride washed over me. It was because I'd snagged a hidden quest on my very first day. Sure, there was a lingering unease about getting swept up in something too big... but whatever. What even was a hidden quest? At the basic level, the rewards could include gold, gear, experience, artifacts—and on the grand scale, even permanent stats. It was straight-up OP. Getting something like that right from the start—no, from the absolute beginning—meant starting the game on a completely different playing field from everyone else.

"Time to check the gallery."

With a light heart, I fired up the gallery and dove into the posts. Surrendering myself to the flood of info.

That uplifted mood didn't last long, though. The more gallery posts I clicked, the more I realized in real-time just how badly I'd screwed up.

I scrolled halfway down and checked the comments. They were full of people saying they'd taken the Guard quest, wrecked their characters, and started over.

"Wait, is this a different game from mine?"

The first emotion that hit me was anger. My starting position had been completely different. I'd assumed everyone began in the same spot. But no—I'd been the one starting somewhere else?

"This ain't right."

The experience of leaping from the bridge, nearly becoming Giant Honey Bear chow—all that, just me? I was on the verge of losing it from the injustice. I pressed a hand to my hot forehead and slid it down as I clicked another post.

Another post. Some NPC suddenly turns and punches a passing player before fleeing. The content was hilarious on its own, but that last Common before/after photo gave me a weird sense of déjà vu. Specifically, the after shot.

"Tch, one of the kids from that party?"

It was such a fleeting encounter that I wasn't sure. I hadn't paid close attention. Frowning, I racked my brain, but no answers came.

"Eh, whatever."

Anyway, I hadn't even known this game had Customs.

"What a great game... Yeah, a great game."

Was this the feeling of watching everyone else party while you're left out? I clicked one last post.

The injustice evaporated in an instant. I briefly considered deleting my account, then let out a gasp and flung that thought far away. Legendary skill—total bullshit, for real. Now I had one more reason to complete the quest. Awesome beauty + awesome Legendary skill. Truth is, adventuring with a cutie is my dream and hobby.... Anyway, "With just a Legendary skill, boom." Top 10 rankings, here I come. Time to write the legend of a single sword.

After that post, I skimmed a few more. Some were guides, others bragging about controls or class skills. The most entertaining was a PVP superplay video. Even brags become impressive when they're next-level. The one I saw was pro-gamer caliber, leaving me in awe. Perfect parry system use, class skill combos, and above all, godlike control. The synergy was pure bliss.

"Gotta try PVP someday."

It planted that vague thought in my head.

*

I browsed tons more posts—but sadly, nothing on the square (■■) quest I wanted. I scoured with my eyes peeled, but no direct mentions or even related ones. Maybe I just missed it. Instead, there was this weird one.

There were more mocking comments below, but my heart hurt too much to keep reading. Still, the guy knew something. Didn't like the mage pick, but he got the basics of romance. If we meet later, maybe say hi.

Finished browsing, time to wash up, eat... keep watching shorts till bedtime.

*

I let time slip away idly, then tossed my phone down weakly. Even endless scrolling felt exhausting. Apathy hits like that—sudden and heavy. The dopamine waterfall and high spirits from before sank cold under the night's weight.

Blame the night. Blame the fatigue crashing in—I rubbed my dry face and rolled my eyes. Blame the tiredness. All this rambling's their fault.

My eyes rolled again. That gaze slowly swept the silent room shrouded in thick darkness, then lingered on one thing. A sliver of light piercing the pitch black.

The window.

Outside was its usual black-and-yellow murk. The night air seeping through was still chilly. I opened the window. Rust made it stick. Forced it, and it screeched open with a grinding creeeak, stabbing my eardrums—and somewhere deeper inside.

Fucking annoying. As the ringing in my ears faded, I looked up.

There was emptiness. High in that sky, not a single cloud.

For the first time in ages—truly ages—I gazed at that distant heaven. Stars twinkled in the void.

A dull, futile curiosity stirred. What time do the stars see? What time has etched into those pale white dots we watch?

Sometimes I think of staring at that frigid white dot from a pallid blue one. Peeling back memories layered in billions of years. What would be inside? Dust-caked, moldy relics of time, probably. Moments someone couldn't hold onto and let slip. Eras buried by time's relentless march, ungraspable.

Before I knew it, I was reaching out, grasping at empty air like a trance. Pointless for those distant, preserved twinkling shards.

Thoughts like these always made a sharp ache bloom in my chest.

The starlight filling my eyes was, tonight, exceptionally beautiful.