How long have you played the game? Since release, yes, but how long is that? A year, maybe-- or more. Long enough to having grown used to the flashing, sparking colors of every crate of in-game loot that you unlock, the whirring sounds and faint fanfare of every click that opens them to reveal the contents-- gray, blue, pink, gold; weapons, characters and bonuses galore. A whirlwind of rewards that used to be so exciting, but which have now grown into just another idle amusement in between matches. Skins, skills, currency to purchase what you haven't already unlocked by chance...

So how great is your surprise, then, when you arrive home one day to find a large, familiar-looking box on your doorstep? It glows faintly, and in the back of your head you can almost hear the familiar whirr-click-whomp of the imaginary springs inside, the fanfare that preceded the loot awaiting to be unveiled. Only, this one is real. And it continues to be real when you walk up to it, slowly stretching out a hand to touch its warm surface.

A loot box. How the hell..?

Looking around, you don't see anyone watching - your first instinct was that this was a prank, some shitty joke that your friends are playing on you. But no one is there. In fact, the only thing you can hear are the birds above, the traffic in the distance, and the faint hum of the box on your doormat. You frown. A promotion, then? Maybe something you ordered off of Amazon last time you were drunk? ...no, that was ages ago; you've been steering clear of booze for at least a few months, after your performance review. So how on Earth did this thing get here?

No matter. With a resolute scowl, you unlock your front door and lean down to pick up the metal box. Surprisingly, it weights almost nothing - as if it were made of cardboard, or maybe styrofoam. But the surface is undoubtedly metal, and the sound it makes when you accidentally knock it against the door jamb is definitely metallic. You maneuver yourself inside, nudge the door closed with your foot and carry the box into the living room, where you set it down onto the carpet. The more you study it, the more real it seems; no mere replica, this is the real deal, as impossible as it seems. You should know, after all; you've opened hundreds of them by now. Thousands, even.

Slinking out of your jacket, you discard it on the couch and kneel down in front of the box. There is, you notice, a tiny button set into the surface of the front, all but invisible without getting down on your knees. A button? No doubt that it does, then. But why? And again, your mind circles back to the inevitable how? But your curiosity is too much; there is only so long you can stare at a box that inviting, something that is just begging to be opened, before you have to give in. Slowly, you align your finger with the button and depress the stud, feeling the mechanism inside buckle, catch, give. The box shivers, and you take a step back just in time for it to

--erupt, exactly as it always has, with an explosive cheer that almost deafens you as four disks shoot into the air, spin once beneath the ceiling of your living room, and then fall onto the ground in a perfectly aligned semi-circle. Each disk has something hovering above it, but you just blink, seeing the colors before anything else; one gray, one blue, another one gray, one-- gold.

Gold.

Strange shapes hover above the disks - the box itself, you notice, has curiously dematerialized into nothingness - and you step up to examine them, wary to touch anything without knowing what it is. Each disk is exuding a gentle pillar of light, and within each beam floats an object; you peer into the white-ish light and squint, seeing a small pile of what appears to be golden coins hovering, ready to be plucked and, presumably, spent. Although where you would spend such a strange currency is beyond you.

Your eyes slide over the next to columns, any attempt at pacing yourself lost to the profound, tingly curiosity in your chest. You know what this is, you've opened enough of these boxes to understand beyond a shadow of a doubt what each color means. Common, Uncommon, Rare, Legendary-- and your eagerness to know what is hiding within the golden pillar of light consumes all sense of self preservation as you step up to examine it.

Your eyes peer into the column of faintly pulsing golden light, and inside you see-- a woman, her flawless skin exposed to the elements as she hovers a few inches off the ground. Naked and smiling softly at you, she is every bit the image of perfection that you've always imagined her as. Her. The one you always secretly desired, the one for whom your passions rose despite the soul-crushing knowledge that she was merely a piece of animation, a fantasy made of pixels and bits. And yet, here she is, at once as perfectly recreated as she is in the game and yet entirely human at the same time, her features mixing the stylized contours of her unreal avatar with the features of a real woman, until you can't remember how you ever saw her as anything but real-- until you realize you've been staring at her, slack-jawed, while her lips have shifted into a faintly embarrassed pout.

She reaches a hand out, and you help her out of the light, feeling her warm hand in yours as she ceases to be an abstract and starts being a real, tangible force in your living room. She turns to you, her eyes full of warmth and - you feel compelled to pinch yourself, to make sure you aren't imagining things - a hint of lust? She is perfect, unblemished, and yet you can feel the heat of her as she steps up to practically press against you, warm and fragrant and real.

"Hi," she murmurs with a smile, and every pretense that this is not real goes out the window. "Guess you got lucky on your first try, hmn?"

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