Nonchalant Dismissal

Exoarcane.

Or alternatively, as Alexander would call it...Battle of Classes.

A very popular game that blended elements of sci-fi and magic, or simply put, technology and fantasy.

Played by children, teens, and even adults, it was considered the most thrilling, blood-pumping game ever made.

Its popularity had skyrocketed when many adults started using battles as a means of making ends meet.

Some stirred controversy by dissing top players or calling them names, the most hated being "Bots." As a result, tournaments were frequently hosted to know who was actually the "Bot."

Others simply enjoyed the rush of adrenaline and excitement that followed every match.

Including Alexander.

He sat hunched over in his chair, fingers gliding across the keyboard with ease, frantically tapping the same buttons.

His bloodshot eyes were locked onto the screen, where his in-game character, a dark-robed Necromancer with a glowing blue skull floating around him.

Stood alone on a battlefield that was once a city, nearly destroyed, as a sign of past battles everywhere.

Alexander's posture was stiff, his shoulders tense from hours of endless gaming and chugging down coffee. But he barely noticed.

Not that it mattered at the moment anyway.

On the screen, a monstrous final boss loomed ahead, an ugly mass of shadows under a crimson moon.

The battlefield was in chaos...spells clashed, blade met blades, bullets flew, and health bars dipped into the red and back to green.

Over one hundred players were behind their monitors, clicking frantically. The voice chat on Alexander's side crackled with shouts from his teammates.

"Tank, hold aggro! You're gonna wipe us!"

"DPS, burn him down! Now, now, now!"

"Alex, for fuck's sake, use your ultimate!"

DPS, known as Damage Per Second, referred to the amount of damage a character or ability could deal per second.

In other words, DPS players focused purely on dealing damage rather than healing or tanking.

Aggro, or Aggression, was a mechanic where enemies targeted a specific player, usually based on threat levels.

Tanks generated aggro to keep enemies focused on them, preventing damage dealers and healers from being attacked.

Alexander smirked, annoyed, but deep down, he was excited.

This was the best part, the moment when everyone else panicked, but he remained in control.

"Relax," he muttered, with hoarse voice, from hours of playing and yelling at his team whenever they were ambushed.

"These bastards are becoming annoying."

He uttered as he cracked his knuckles, stretched his fingers, and tapped a single key.

On-screen, his Necromancer raised both hands. A pulse of dark energy formed above them, twisting in the air like a spiraling portal.

The ground beneath his character cracked open, and from within, skeletons emerged.

Their bodies were soon cloaked in shadows, molding into human-like forms clad in dark armor, wielding numerous weapons.

And hollow eyes that burned with blue flames.

A notification suddenly blinked at the top of the screen.

[Skill Activated: Army of the Dead]

The in-game chat exploded, especially from those who personally knew Alex.

"What the hell?!"

"Isn't Necromancer supposed to be trash?"

"Wait—"

"…Did you actually waste money on that class?!"

Oh, he definitely did.

A full one thousand dollars, straight from his savings and side jobs.

And the only person who had known about it beforehand was his best friend, the one person he called family.

And boy, had Darren been pissed when he found out.

---

A week ago…

"Are you seriously about to waste a grand on that?"

Darren leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, staring through their Discord call with disbelief.

Alexander barely hesitated. "Yeah." He shrugged, clicking through the final confirmation screen. "It's not bad."

Darren let out a heavy sigh. "Bro, every forum, every guide, every top player says Necromancer is the worst class in the game."

"Summoning's trash, mana upkeep is a nightmare, and it gets outscaled in every way. Why not go for Arcane Warlock or Celestial Knight? At least they're meta."

That was exactly why Alexander wanted it.

He had spent years grinding these kinds of games, min-maxing, optimizing, always choosing the best path. But the meta dictated everything.

If you weren't using the top-tier builds, you were simply 'wasting your time.'

No originality. No risk. Just the same overpowered rotations, the same strategies, the same predictable outcomes.

It was suffocating.

So when he saw the Necromancer class, forgotten, endlessly ridiculed, buried under pages of people calling it useless, he knew he had to try it.

"It's not about winning, dude," Alex said as his finger hovered over the Confirm Purchase button. "It's about proving them wrong."

Darren groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Yeah, yeah, enjoy being broke. You better not come crying to me when you can't clear anything or buy your usuals."

Alex chuckled, unfazed. "Love you, bro."

And with that, he disconnected.

---

Now, back in the raid…

Alexander watched as his undead army charged forward, tearing through the boss's defenses like a wave.

The massive raid boss, an armored warlord standing three stories tall, swung its weapon, but the summoned warriors absorbed the blow and barely flinched.

His teammates could do nothing but watch in silence.

The tanks held their positions, the DPS scrambled to do what little they could, but it was clear… Alex had already made this a solo battle.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the battle was over.

A final, devastating wave of black flames erupted from his summons, consuming the boss entirely.

Another notification flashed across the screen.

[RAID CLEARED! LEGENDARY DROP OBTAINED!]

The chat went dead.

For a solid three seconds, no one said a word.

Then—

"What the actual—"

"No way. No freaking way!"

"Someone clip that. Clip it right now!"

"Holy shit, Alex. What did you just do?"

"That's the Necromancer class? I thought it was useless!"

"Impressive!"

"Dude… you soloed the raid boss!"

A slow smirk tugged at Alex's lips.

Meta be damned.

He had just made history, for a while, until another player decided to break an unbreakable record.

No doubt, he would still be there, as the one who showed Necromancy wasn't useless, if executed and utilized properly.

Alexander leaned back and exhaled. Running a hand through his disheveled black hair, he smiled.

"Guess they were wrong, huh?"

To think he had received nothing but insults from the top players who saw him with the skin but never expected him to use the class itself.

They called him a loser and even held a tournament, thinking he would lose.

And surprisingly, he cleared the entire match, earning his money back tenfold.

Reaching for his canned coffee, he tilted the can… empty.

He sighed and tossed it onto the growing pile of trash by the door. Then, his gaze shifted to the clock.

3:47 AM.

Another late night. But this time, it was actually worth it.

He should have slept earlier, though it didn't really matter.

Work was just another mindless routine, another way to pass the time and earn a few bucks. But school? That was the real issue.

Thankfully, he wouldn't have lectures today, unless the professors decided otherwise.

As he moved to shut down his PC, his phone buzzed against the desk. Its screen lit up in the dim light, then went dark again.

At first, he barely glanced at it, assuming it was just a late-night notification from a game or an email he didn't care about.

But when the phone buzzed again and lit up completely this time, his brows furrowed.

There was no sender. No app name. Just a single line of text.

[Congratulations, Player Alex_24. Do you accept the next challenge?]

His fingers hovered over the screen.

"What the hell?"

There were still no indications of where the message had come from. Just two options blinking at him.

Yes / No

It had to be some kind of prank. A weird ARG or a viral marketing trick. Maybe even a hidden game feature. He had seen weirder things before.

Still… something about it felt off.

The words made his stomach twist with an unexplainable unease. It almost felt like they were waiting for him.

Do you accept the challenge?

Alexander let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. Dramatic as hell. Maybe he'd look it up later, see if it was some new viral trend or another part of the game.

As Alexander tapped "Yes," nothing happened. No new messages, no flashy effects. Just silence.

He scoffed and shook his head. "Figures. Probably some dumb ARG."

A long yawn escaped his lips as he stretched his sore arms and shut down the PC.

His room was a mess… close enough to be a dump site. Empty cans, snack wrappers, and old papers were scattered across the desk and floor.

He should have cleaned up after the last two midnight marathons, but that was a problem for the less lazy, more motivated future Alexander.

For now, he needed sleep.

He barely made it to his bed before collapsing onto it.

The moment his head hit the pillow, his eyes shut. His mind, brain, and everything was exhausted, yet oddly restless.

The words from the mysterious message still lingered.

Do you accept the challenge?

A heavy sigh left his lips. "Whatever."