BLACK AURA – Chapter 1: "CrashGamer

BLACK AURA

Chapter 1: CrashGamer

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The room was silent, save for the soft whir of an aging fan rotating overhead. Dim light from a dusty computer monitor bathed the space in a pale glow. Cables tangled like vines across the floor, among them candy wrappers, scattered books, and crumpled pages. It was the kind of room the world forgot — and where one boy chose to disappear.

He didn’t live in shadows by choice. No one had ever invited him into the light.

The monitor flickered.

MATCH FOUND.

The boy leaned forward. His frame was thin, worn out by hours of digital war and life’s quiet weight. His username glowed on the screen:

CrashGamer

He slid his fingers onto the keyboard with a quiet confidence that didn’t match his fragile appearance.

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Beside him lay an old, weathered notebook. Pages were filled with hand-drawn combos, frame-perfect reactions, and diagrams of strategies no school would ever teach.

“If they won’t teach me...” he thought, flipping a page, “...I’ll teach myself.”

His next opponent's ID flashed onto the screen:

Ali_King3

Crash narrowed his eyes.

“King?” he muttered under his breath. “That’s bold.”

---

The game began like thunder. Fingers danced across keys. Crash’s inputs were swift — mechanical, cold, ruthless. But the opponent wasn't average. Ali_King3 was fast, unpredictable. Calculated.

It wasn’t a game. It was war.

Crash adapted instantly. Each attack from Ali was met with a smarter counter. Every opening widened into a brutal advantage.

He was always three steps ahead.

---

Then — victory.

The screen flashed:

WINNER: CrashGamer

Crash didn't cheer. He leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. Victory felt normal by now.

A message appeared:

> Ali_King3:

“Nice moves. I want to meet you. Hotel Empire Gate. Tomorrow. 5 PM. – Ali”

Crash blinked at the screen. His hands hovered above the keys.

"Someone… wants to meet me? In real life?"

---

He closed his notebook gently. On its torn black cover, scrawled in faded ink, were the words:

“My Mind Is My Weapon.”

He ran a thumb across it. Maybe this was his chance…

...to finally matter.

---

The next day.

The city pulsed with indifference. Horns honked. People rushed by, each in their own universe. No one looked at the boy walking through them — hoodie up, backpack worn, eyes focused.

He stopped at a small park. From his bag, he pulled a single flower and began to plant it at the base of a tree.

A thorn nicked his finger. One drop of blood fell to the dirt.

Something shimmered — a faint black mist rose from the ground and disappeared as quickly as it came.

The boy never noticed. But the air seemed to pause, just for a moment.

---

By afternoon, Crash stood before Hotel Empire Gate. Grand. Intimidating. He clutched his notebook like it was a shield.

A sleek black SUV pulled up. A tall figure stepped out — clean, calm, sharp-eyed.

Ali.

He examined Crash, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re smaller than I expected.”

Without warning, he threw a punch — fast, direct.

Crash didn’t flinch. His hand rose and blocked it effortlessly.

“I’m not just a gamer,” he said.

“I’m an anime fan. We remember every fight.”

Ali stared at him for a second… and smiled.

“Interesting.”

---

“Come,” he said, gesturing to the SUV.

“I want to show you something.”

Crash hesitated… and stepped in. The doors closed. The engine purred.

---

They drove across forgotten corners of the city.

An abandoned train yard. A cracked war memorial. A silent playground. A rooftop above it all.

Ali spoke as he drove.

“This world isn’t fair,” he said.

“Power decides everything. Not talent. Not truth. Not even kindness.”

Crash listened quietly, absorbing every word.

---

On the rooftop, the city stretched behind them like a glowing circuit board.

Wind tugged at Crash’s hoodie as he stood beside Ali.

Ali turned to him.

“You’ve got something. Not in your fists. But in your fire.”

“So tell me… do you want to stay invisible forever?”

Crash said nothing. His fingers curled tighter around his notebook.

Ali continued:

“Come with me. Every day. I’ll show you the world from my view.”

---

Unknown to them both, a soft vibration hummed from Crash’s backpack.

His notebook.

Black mist, almost invisible, leaked into the air for the briefest second.

The power inside him... wasn’t meant to be found.

It was meant to awaken.

---

That night, Crash sat at his desk once more.

The monitor was off. The room was silent.

He stared at his own reflection in the black screen.

“He saw me,” he thought.

“Not the weak boy. The fire.”

He flipped open his notebook.

A new move began to take shape on the page.

In the corner... a small black flame drew itself without his hand.

---

Before the world knew his name…

...he had already become what it feared most.

🖤

CRASHGAMER – The Black Aura Begins

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