in another timeline, despite m4's shortcomings in using ChatGPT and a bad habit of including much less valuable information, the advice he was given by a myriad of coaches and players with good faith, he was able to transform his work into a much more concise and easy to consume format.
m4 becomes a much more prominent figure than if he hadn't pulled this stunt and almost becomes a no brainer for a no-name team that would like some extra traction. alongside recognition of his work ethic by esteemed coaches, and after a bit of time, m4 is brought onto a t2 team and after a hard fought season, they secure a spot in ascension. unfortunately, they do not manage to win, but shortly after he is welcomed by a t1 team with open arms.
the team who acquired him has a very rough kickoff, ending with a total of 24 rounds across 4 maps though this doesn't stop m4. this could be due to many reasons, but m4 doesn't care, he realizes that there could be many people that would love to be in his position, and frankly, may even lead the team to perform better. he's not going to waste this opportunity. he continues to study, his extreme focus on player's area of dominance allows him to achieve a style similar to the highly praised 'Potter'.
m4's team is on the verge of elimination, their qualification to the next international relies solely on winning this map. the score is 11-11. the enemy team wins another round. 12-11. m4 calls a timeout. m4 doesn't understand, he doesn't see any glaring mistakes that his team is making, and there's no clear weakness in the enemy's gameplan. out of distress he places his left elbow on the table, palm to his forehead and broods while reviewing his notes at his desk. there. it's something he had wrote down during a previous round, yet shrugged it off a few seconds later. at the time, he must've found it to be insignificant. but there's nothing else to go off of, it's what he was missing, it just has to be. first, he calms down his team, then explains the situation. at first, his team is clearly in doubt though it remains unvoiced. after noticing, he firmly tells them "just trust me.", instilling confidence into this statement despite not being fully sure of it himself.
post game - they won. there's a long road ahead but he knows he can't let up, not even a bit. ever since that fateful day- his entrance into valorant -he hasn't played a single game of marvel rivals, he doesn't have the time for it. other coaches may have an advantage over him in the form of previous coaching experience, or even having played the game outside of swiftplays. he knows he has to make up for it with nothing but solid and honest work. the words of other coaches bang against the walls of his skull while he reviews the matches of the team he recognizes as the most formidable.
the crowd booms louder than ever before. it's the grand finals of m4's first international event. he feels proud, although he may have been sent to the lower bracket earlier than he'd like, he persevered. as his eyes scan the crowd, he recognizes a few familiar faces. the likes of maryville university's very own, mCe, whom had given him some of the first advice that he had received that day. prominent figure sean gares had also made an appearance, the man who committed to reading every page that m4 had originally published. there were other faces he recognized. whether they were here to watch the fruit's of his efforts, or maybe watch him fail, or simply attended for their love of the game, he's unsure; either way, the emotion that he is feeling now is far beyond exhilarating.
as expected of the enemy team's coach, his arch-nemesis, both teams manage to secure two maps each. a fifth map final. the best possible outcome for lovers of the sport, though a teeth chattering progression for fans of either team. m4 is getting a little nervous himself, how could he not? the rounds are traded evenly, 6-6. m4 loses the pistol, 6-7. 6-8. 6-9. 6-10. 7-10. 8-10. 9-10. 9-11. match point. 9-12. m4 flips through his notes frantically, but no time-out is called. 10-12. a miraculous win. he can see his players sweating, some feel a little lost, almost as if begging for some guidance. m4 knows he could call a timeout and grant them some ease, but only one remains and he decided that he's going to bet the game on it. his team is extremely scrappy but, by some stroke of luck, pull through another round without the m4's timeout.
it's time. m4 was studying this specific scenario for this exact moment. a gamble to invest so much time into studying this without the guarantee that they'd even make it this far. after learning about the importance of time from several coaches a few months back, he knew he needed the full 60 seconds to completely disclose the details perfectly. he had never talked so clearly and concisely, with such intent in every word, ever before. even though his entire body was jagged and shaking from the nerves of the situation, his lip movements betrayed that description.
though m4 doesn't know it, the expression on the enemy coach's face was nothing short of disbelief. it was so perfect. he had just seen the tournament's scrappiest group of 5 turn into the world's most perfectly synced team. the game proceeds into overtime. it's much less methodical than the rest of the game, and far far from the miracle that was seen in the round before overtime. after a few traded rounds, the winner is eventually decided.
the man he had been aspiring to replace for almost a year now was found sitting against a wall, the enemy team's coach, without many signs of emotion. m4 decides he should speak first. he chooses the words he found most fitting for everything that's happened.
"Good game, Zikz."
absolute cinema
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