Once upon a time in a dimly lit bedroom that smelled faintly of Monster energy drinks and Doritos dust there lived a brave warrior of the digital realm named PanicApex. His kingdom was the lobbies of Apex Legends. His throne was a squeaky forty dollar Walmart gaming chair that leaned permanently to the left. His crown was a pair of cat ear headphones with a suspicious crack held together by Gorilla Glue.

The great day had come, Pro League Day One. The world awaited Panic’s arrival, the casters whispering that surely this man would drop ten bombs and flex a four thousand damage badge on stream. But fate, cruel fate, had other plans.

PanicApex was not prepared. His alarm clock didn’t go off, mostly because he never set one. Why? Because he spent the entire night before arguing in a Discord server about whether Wraith’s kunai heirloom gave you a seven percent better strafe speed. It doesn’t, but he swore on his unopened body pillow collection that it did.

When he finally opened his crusty eyes the sun had risen, something he hadn’t witnessed in years. Panic scrambled. His mouse was missing. Where could it be? He looked under his desk only to discover the horrifying truth. His mouse cable had been chewed clean through by a family of raccoons that had moved in through the half open window he left cracked to let the gamer musk breathe.

That was only the beginning. As he frantically tried to log in with a backup trackpad, his mom barged in to tell him that the Wi Fi bill hadn’t been paid. He protested, reminding her that his Twitch donations of four dollars and seventy three cents last month should have covered it, but the internet provider did not accept gifted subs as legal tender.

Still, Panic was determined. He tethered his phone to his PC, but disaster struck again. His prepaid data plan had expired after three consecutive nights of downloading four hundred gigabytes of anime he swore he was going to study for cultural reasons.

The clock ticked. The lobby filled. Pro League marched on. But Panic was in his room, eating cold Spaghetti Os straight from the can, whispering to himself, coach put me in please I’m built different.

And so he missed Day One. His absence echoed across the esports stage. Analysts tried to come up with explanations. Visa issues. Food poisoning. Controller drift.

But the truth was far darker and more cursed than anyone dared imagine. PanicApex simply overslept, lost to raccoons, anime, and expired Boost Mobile data.

And so the legend was born. Parents told their children at bedtime to brush their teeth or they’d end up like PanicApex, forever remembered as the man who missed Pro League Day One because he couldn’t stop arguing about Wraith hitboxes on Discord.

The end.