The air was thick with tension, a mix of excitement and dread that buzzed through the chat like an electric current. It had started like any other stream, or so it seemed. But tonight, something was different. The usual playful banter was missing, replaced by a cryptic message that flashed on the screen:
**"Welcome to the game. You are no longer just a viewer, you are a player."**
The chat exploded with questions and theories, but the stream continued without addressing them. Suddenly, the familiar avatar of Ranboo flickered and distorted, the pixelated smile shifting into something far more sinister. Then, the glitching stopped, and in its place was a new figure—one that sent a chill down everyone's spine.
It wasn't Ranboo at all. It was *him*—the hero from *Generation Loss*. The character who had once fought so hard to escape the twisted game, only to become trapped within it. And now, somehow, he was here, using the avatar as a vessel to communicate.
"I don't have much time," the hero's voice crackled through the speakers, layered with desperation. "They've thrown us all into another ARG, but this time it's different. This time, the stakes are real. I need your help."
The chat went wild, theories and speculations flooding in faster than anyone could read. Was this just another level to the game, or was there something more? The hero, eyes flickering with urgency, leaned closer to the screen.
"This isn't just a story anymore. It's happening, and you're all a part of it. They think they can control us, but they don't know what we're capable of together."
A series of puzzles began to appear on the screen, complex codes and hidden messages that the chat needed to solve. The hero guided them, but it was clear that even he didn't have all the answers. He was trapped just like them, bound by the rules of a game none of them fully understood.
As the chat worked frantically to decode the clues, the hero's avatar would glitch occasionally, revealing brief glimpses of something—or someone—watching from the shadows. The atmosphere grew more intense, the line between game and reality blurring with each passing moment.
"You need to hurry," the hero urged, his voice cracking with fear. "They're coming for me, and if they get to me, it's all over. We can beat this, but only if we work together. Please—help me."
The screen began to flicker again, static overtaking the image as the connection weakened. But before the stream cut out entirely, the hero's voice came through one last time, a final plea filled with determination and hope:
"Don't let them win."
And then, everything went dark.
The chat was left in stunned silence, the reality of the situation sinking in. This wasn't just another ARG. This was a call to arms. The game had begun, and now, it was up to them to save the hero—and maybe, just maybe, themselves.
