The Game That Killed Me
I died doing what I loved.
It wasn't poetic. It wasn't heroic.
It was a heart attack — sudden, sharp — right as I loaded up my modded Cyberpunk 2077 save for the hundredth time.
Max stats. Max perks. Every legendary item.
One trillion eurodollars in my account.
And — because why the hell not — a custom physics mod that set my package at fifteen inches.
I was a joke waiting to happen.
Until I wasn't laughing anymore.
I woke up not in a hospital… but in Night City.
For real.
And the game?
The game had just begun.