In truth, Ryl was neither. He was a pattern now.
Auto Pick Ryl.
Ryl hadn’t spoken in seventeen months. Not since the accident. But every night at 9:47 PM, his hands remembered. Auto Pick Ryl
They would find the worn controller—drift on the left stick, a cracked bumper—and queue into Nexus Arena , the world’s last living MOBA. He didn’t choose a hero. He didn’t need to. The system had learned him. In truth, Ryl was neither