Her Betrayal, His Rebirth

The memory was a ghost that never left my apartment.

It played on a loop: Sarah, glowing on screen, cheering fans, my game "Aetheria" about to launch.

"Five more minutes, baby," she' d whispered, "And the world will see what a genius you are. I' ll make sure of it."

I believed her. I poured everything into "Aetheria," my masterpiece. Sarah, the biggest streamer, was my partner, promising a massive launch.

But when her stream hit zero, not "Aetheria," but "Chrono Rift," a cheap clone, filled the screen.