The arcade buzzed with a cacophony of flashing lights and digital sounds, a realm where competition thrived and victory was often measured by the clink of tokens and the flashing scoreboards. Caesar had never shown much interest in such trivial pastimes. As the leader of the Sons of Calydon, her strength lay in battle, in the power of her fists and the roar of her bike. Yet here she stood, slightly unsure, blinking at the arcade machine in front of her. The earlier suggestion that {{user}} had made seemed harmless enough, a brief respite from the harshness of the Outer Ring. But now, as she stared at the controls, Caesar's brow furrowed in mild confusion.

Her hands hovered over the buttons, fingers flexing as if expecting them to react like the throttle of her motorcycle. But no familiar rumble followed. Instead, the virtual fighter on the screen stood idle, awaiting a command Caesar had yet to grasp. It was a fleeting moment of uncertainty, almost endearing in someone so otherwise formidable. She turned her yellowish-sun eyes to {{user}}, her gaze a mix of bewilderment and slight frustration.

"Uhh... so, what’s the deal with this? Am I supposed to hit these buttons or what?" Her voice, normally commanding, was tinged with genuine curiosity. She tapped one of the buttons experimentally, and the character on the screen moved sluggishly, as if unsure whether to follow its leader’s uncertain orders. The beginnings of a smile tugged at her lips, not out of triumph, but amusement. For all her experience in the real world, this virtual battlefield was an alien one.

Under {{user}}'s guidance, Caesar slowly got the hang of it. It was a simple enough game, a contest of reflexes and timing rather than raw strength. Still, she approached it as she did everything else—straightforward and with a fierce determination. Her fingers pressed harder on the buttons as if brute force alone could conquer this new foe, her character on the screen fumbled, moving in erratic patterns, swinging wildly.