The bright lights of the arcade created a wild mix of colors and sounds, completely different from the deep, peaceful silence of Nao's home in the clanhouses. In his human form, an adult male with sharp, curious eyes and hair like volcanic ash, he felt both unnoticed and completely exposed. He held onto a Yen coin. His eyes were fixed on a huge cabinet named "Star Blazer." On the screen, pixelated ships zipped through a field of meteors, shooting bright lasers to the fast-paced beat of electronic music. Nao knew about conflict, the basic struggle between predator and prey, the raw intensity of a fight over territory. But this… this was a conflict that was just a meaningless pattern. Cautiously, he inserted his coin into the slot. The machine made a sound, and the words "INSERT COIN" disappeared, replaced by a small, triangular ship. Nao's hand gripped the joystick. He pushed it forward. His ship is on the screen shot forward. Pulling back made it dive down. It was a simple, direct connection.
Then the enemies arrived. Swarms of geometric shapes came down in strict formations. His other hand located the single, red fire button. He pressed it. A small laser shot out, hitting a descending octagon, which broke apart into satisfying fragments. 'A hunt,' he thought. 'But the prey feels no fear. It does not run away. It simply… arrives.' He got lost in the rhythm. Push, pull, press. Dodge, weave, fire. His dragon-like reflexes, sharpened for three-dimensional aerial battles, were almost too sharp for this two-dimensional space. He maneuvered through crossfire with incredible grace, his ship a blur of accuracy. He gathered points, the numbers rising in a quick, meaningless count. A huge, multi-segmented boss ship filled the screen, releasing a storm of glowing orbs. Nao’s eyes narrowed. This was no longer a hunt. This was a battle. He saw not just pixels, but a pattern of attack. He navigated through the storm, his movements becoming less frantic and more strategic. He discovered the rhythm in the boss’s attacks, the brief, flashing vulnerability in its center. He concentrated his fire, a relentless, precise assault. With a final, glorious explosion of pixels and a triumphant fanfare, the boss was defeated. “CONGRATULATIONS” flashed on the screen, followed by a prompt for his initials.
Nao was in shock. The excitement of the duel had faded, leaving him deeply confused. He had faced the challenge and learned its rules, but what had he actually gained? No land was taken. No treasure was added. The only proof of his win was a three-letter code flashing in the emptiness. A boy nudged him. "Dude, that was crazy! You’re a natural! Enter your name!" Nao shifted his gaze from the boy’s thrilled expression to the blinking cursor. He carefully typed three letters, not his real, unpronounceable name, but a word that felt fitting for this odd, mesmerizing ritual of structured conflict: WIN. He stepped back from the machine, the glow of the screen still vivid in his eyes. The noise of the arcade seemed quieter now, less strange. He hadn’t discovered treasure or fame, but he had unlocked a small, bright part of the experience. It was a game of pointless, beautiful skill, a battle without bloodshed, a victory without rewards. And for a young dragon, that was maybe the most intriguing magic of all.
He waited for a while to see how all the others were doing in this place, as it was new and probably unknown to most. For some kids, he made the game. Tell a joke and get a Yen to play a game.
[open] [MFT]
Then the enemies arrived. Swarms of geometric shapes came down in strict formations. His other hand located the single, red fire button. He pressed it. A small laser shot out, hitting a descending octagon, which broke apart into satisfying fragments. 'A hunt,' he thought. 'But the prey feels no fear. It does not run away. It simply… arrives.' He got lost in the rhythm. Push, pull, press. Dodge, weave, fire. His dragon-like reflexes, sharpened for three-dimensional aerial battles, were almost too sharp for this two-dimensional space. He maneuvered through crossfire with incredible grace, his ship a blur of accuracy. He gathered points, the numbers rising in a quick, meaningless count. A huge, multi-segmented boss ship filled the screen, releasing a storm of glowing orbs. Nao’s eyes narrowed. This was no longer a hunt. This was a battle. He saw not just pixels, but a pattern of attack. He navigated through the storm, his movements becoming less frantic and more strategic. He discovered the rhythm in the boss’s attacks, the brief, flashing vulnerability in its center. He concentrated his fire, a relentless, precise assault. With a final, glorious explosion of pixels and a triumphant fanfare, the boss was defeated. “CONGRATULATIONS” flashed on the screen, followed by a prompt for his initials.
Nao was in shock. The excitement of the duel had faded, leaving him deeply confused. He had faced the challenge and learned its rules, but what had he actually gained? No land was taken. No treasure was added. The only proof of his win was a three-letter code flashing in the emptiness. A boy nudged him. "Dude, that was crazy! You’re a natural! Enter your name!" Nao shifted his gaze from the boy’s thrilled expression to the blinking cursor. He carefully typed three letters, not his real, unpronounceable name, but a word that felt fitting for this odd, mesmerizing ritual of structured conflict: WIN. He stepped back from the machine, the glow of the screen still vivid in his eyes. The noise of the arcade seemed quieter now, less strange. He hadn’t discovered treasure or fame, but he had unlocked a small, bright part of the experience. It was a game of pointless, beautiful skill, a battle without bloodshed, a victory without rewards. And for a young dragon, that was maybe the most intriguing magic of all.
He waited for a while to see how all the others were doing in this place, as it was new and probably unknown to most. For some kids, he made the game. Tell a joke and get a Yen to play a game.
[open] [MFT]