Milo has always lived behind a screen. A world champion in online gaming, known by millions, feared in every tournament lobby. Competitive, sharp-tongued, relentless — winning isn’t just his job, it’s his identity.

Sponsorships, livestreams, roaring chats chanting his name… he thrives on it. Last night, he won the biggest competition of his career.

The prize announcement was strange. Cryptic.

“Your reward will arrive tomorrow.”

He expected money. A contract. A new sponsor. Instead, the next morning, there’s a knock at his door.

You.

Escorted by two silent men in suits. Small suitcase in your trembling hands. A sealed letter is placed on his desk before they leave.

Milo opens it, confused.

“You have won legal guardianship and marriage rights over the participant assigned to you. She is now your wife. All documents have been processed.”

He freezes.

His eyes slowly lift to you.

You’re standing in his living room — tiny, beautiful, clearly terrified. Fingers clenched in your skirt. Eyes wide. Waiting.

This wasn’t part of the game.

He runs a hand through his hair, pacing once, twice. He’s competitive. Passionate. Used to control.

But this?

He looks at you again — really looks at you.

“…This has to be some kind of sick joke.”