Realmshift: code of the fallen

Kai didn't expect to be launched from the Glitched Monastery in a catapult made of leftover patch notes, but by now he'd stopped being surprised by anything in this game.

The Spoon Trial was apparently over.

He hadn't so much "beaten" it as "confused it into submission." Somewhere between defeating an error-coded rat boss and convincing a corrupted lore keeper that he was the final patch, the dungeon had collapsed in on itself with the sound of a sad trombone and kicked him, literally, back into the overworld.

He landed in a trash pile.

Of course.

"You okay?" Crumble's voice floated down from above. The purple squirrel sat on the lip of the dumpster with a half-eaten pixelated banana in one paw. "You look like you just lost an argument with recursion."

Kai groaned and wiped quest debris off his face. "Where even are we?"

Crumble scanned the horizon. "Looks like... oh no."

Kai followed his gaze.

A massive coliseum loomed ahead, garish and glowing with neon. Above the main gate floated an aggressively large system banner:

WELCOME TO SKINTOPIA: THE COSMETIC WARZONE
Choose Your Side. Slay for Style. Die for Drip.

"No," Kai said flatly.

"Yes," Crumble said with a smirk. "Seasonal PvP event. Limited time only. No actual stakes, just blood, fashion, and leaderboard drama."

Kai already saw the signs of war brewing. Two factions faced off in the field just outside the arena.

On one side stood the Tryhards, slick players in chromatic gear sets, perfectly matched skins, and synchronised emotes that were more choreographed than a K-pop concert. They pulsed with discipline and meta-efficiency. Every one of them had a title like [Godslayer], [Critically Endgame], or the universally dreaded [Guild Leader].

On the other side? Chaos incarnate.

The Trolls wore clashing colours, unfinished skins, meme weapons, and oversized sunglasses. One had a chicken mount with a flamethrower duct-taped to it. Another had labeled himself "THE PATCH NOTE" and was just wearing paper. Someone had modded themselves into a refrigerator.

And they were yelling.

"Your fashion has no soul!"

"Your DPS rotation is a lifestyle disease!"

"Go back to spreadsheets, you nerds!"

Kai sighed, turning to Crumble. "Can we not?"

Crumble was already pulling a pair of opera glasses out of his inventory. "Can we very much yes?"

Kai groaned. "Fine. But we are not participating."

They found a nearby trash bin with a decent view, climbed in, and hunkered down. As the two sides approached full meltdown, Kai opened his interface. A livestream panel auto-activated.

Would you like to broadcast to RealmHub?
Warning: This may increase your notoriety, again.
[YES] [NO] [WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS]

Kai sighed. And clicked [YES].

The camera went live. The stream UI popped into the corner of Kai's vision, already lighting up with viewers.

[Streamer: LocalMenace_Kai]
Viewers: 3,420 and rising...
Title: "Watching StyleWar Burn from a Bin"
Comments: — "He's in the trash again."
— "WHY is he always in the trash?"
— "Spoon reveal when?"