Humans used to play Mobile Legends through the screen. It is now 4050 and it is no longer a game but a sport. Players are handpicked to enter the arenas as they strive to work as a team to destroy turrets and bring their team to victory.
Neo Cultur...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The words echoed in Jeno's mind. His half-brother and soon-to-be-coronated king, Olaf, was one bloke that Jeno knew had quite a lot of enemies. His fight for the throne being the runt of all the Draxians was tough – his mother, Queen Julya, has told Jeno about his tenacity and his gentle heart every time they had a conversation.
"That's Olaf, your half-brother from my third marriage," Julya said as Olaf bowed to one of her connections a few years back. "He will change our culture for good, Jeno. He has a good heart. I believe in him."
Olaf was... big compared to Jeno, but small compared to the rest of his half siblings. With a big round face and massive eyes bordered by long lashes, there was a femininity in there that Jeno recognized.
"Your brother's eyes are exactly like Bunny's," Jaemin said, chewing on his pastry. "Look, they are almond shaped and—"
"Please don't say that. It's weird."
"He looks like a nice bloke."
Olaf was nice. He did not look down on Jeno nor did he ever challenge Jeno to a duel like his other Draxian siblings. He would try to involve Jeno in the conversations (even if Jeno hoped he wouldn't), and he had no problem in standing up for Jeno whenever his the others laughed at him being a player.
"Players. Battle of Peril," Barog snorted one dinner when Jeno visited with Jaemin a few years back. "We are hunters. We kill in nature."
"We don't do that anymore, Brother Barog," Olaf said mildly. "We co-exist peacefully with humans now."
Barog wasn't having any of it. "We are superior to other species – they are dainty. We handle cold. The heat. We can go days without eating! Humans, too. They are weak."
A dirty look towards Jaemin who froze halfway of chewing his ravioli who he insisted did not need to have raw meat in it.
"When I get the throne, Draxians will rise in power," Barog boasted.
Julya could be seen on the other end of the table. Draxians were not very inept in reading emotions, Jeno realized. He too, was not very talented at it. However, he was better than them. He was more human.
Julya seemed troubled by Barog's words.
"Right, mother?" Barog turned his head towards his mother whose lips pulled up into a smirk.
"You will be given what you deserve, Barog."
His mother's words were simple, but Jeno guessed that the throne being given to Olaf was a smart move on her part. Julya had built an empire with her own hands, a businesswoman of connections. She wouldn't want to jeopardize anything by giving power-hungry sons authority.
In the present, Jeno stood awkwardly as Nabi tried to comfort him.
"I'm so sorry to hear that, Jeno," Nabi whispered, rubbing Jeno's shoulders.
