Singh: 'Your will is my command'

THE time screen was closing down: I had 10 seconds to choose -- will I play Master Yi or will I play Sion? It didn’t matter; in both cases, Sion and Master Yi had no choice but to enter the grueling battle arena, where all resources were put into murdering and destroying the bother team and their base for victory.

I pondered hard and decided to go with Master Yi, as he was a swordsman who was infamous for slicing up his enemies in a very short amount of time. The game loaded and my eyes were fixated on the screen. Master Yi was being forced to move. I could control him. “Your will is my command,” he said to me.

Minutes passed and I clicked furiously on my keyboard and mouse. Master Yi was now murdering other champions. I was stacking up the kills, getting more and more gold per head I collect. I felt powerful. Nothing in the entire game could destroy me.

Except, a few seconds later, another champion cut down Yi and one-shotted me. I looked at the scoreboard: somebody had fed the enemy Yasuo eight kills in under two minutes.

“You dumb*** mid laner, don’t you know how to play this f***** game?!” I typed ragingly in chat.

“Who the f*** are you to tell me what to do? You play a brain-dead champion like Yi anyway. Just shut the f*** up, or I will purposely feed their Yasuo more kills and waste all of everyone’s time,” the mid laner replied to my text.

Author’s note: this is the speech of young teenagers.

Furious, I smashed my keyboard. Nobody was going to ruin my time. This was one of the few places in the entire world where I could dominate others. Where I could shine. Where I felt like I was in control.

I kept forcing Master Yi to dive the enemy Yasuo, in determination to take back control of the tide of the game. But, it didn’t work. Yi kept dying. Again and again and again. “Your will is my command,” he reminded me.

I lost that game, but bloodlust wasn't something that can die away after a beating like that. In fact, it intensified. My eyes glowed with the same determination. No matter what, I was going to win. I did not give a damn if that would cost me the entire night.

I looked back at my screen, there was a pool of over 100 champions. I could choose any of them. All had to bend towards me.

The night grew dim. Champion after champion, I controlled. They died for me. They continued to move. They continued to speak. They were my toys. They were my soldiers in a game where all was obsolete but victory.

Hours passed and I awakened to see myself drooling all over my keyboard. The computer screen displayed the “Victory” sign. My labor was finally bearing fruit. However, my stomach growled and I had to get ready for school.

As I reached campus, my mind started to twitch. I began reminiscing about certain moments of the games that I played the night before: Why did I build that way? I could have won that game if I played more aggressively.

In class, it was worse. Physics and math class were converted to spaces where I was calculating the damage I could do to the other champions. Economics became a class where I calculated the most efficient ways to spend the gold I earned in the game. English class provided me with a means to manipulate my team and the opposing team in chat.

As my final class started, my hands began to twitch. They were forming themselves on the makeshift keyboard on my desk. My eyes were closed and I imagined the League of Legends map. I was controlling Master Yi,again. He would go through the jungle first, then gank ...

The bell screamed. My eyes snapped back open. I was sweating. My entire body was twitching. League ... play ... now ...

I ran back home to my computer, ignoring all of my friends and family who greeted me on the way. I quickly turned it on and repeatedly smashed the keyboard for the computer to boot up faster. Hurry up, hurry up! I had to play. I needed to play.

I was back to the same loading screen, with the same champion, on the same map. I repeatedly clicked my mouse, forcing Master Yi to die and kill other champions. “Your will is my command,” he constantly reminded me.

I began sweating. Nothing filled my brain but the thought of winning, the thought of dominating the game. I didn’t have time to breathe, have time to think of everything else that was going on in my life.

Every single neuron and muscle went into manipulating Master Yi. Hours pass and I’m still fixated on the screen, eyes red and mind drowsy.

I close the game for the sake of my head, only to realize the logo of

the game’s producer, Riot Games, at the end screen.

“Your will is my command.”

Author’s note: If I were to tally up the amount of time I have spent playing the game, which amounts to around two years, it would equal to playing for 49 days straight.

Riot Games gets away with this manipulation because of the numerous studies of the game’s benefits. The reality of its incarcerating nature is obviously, however, concealed. People are chained. I’ve seen many of my own friends suffer socially and academically because of the game.

Thankfully, I rarely play the game nowadays, spending more time with my friends and family. Making my world a more colorful place. It is possible to stop. All it takes is willpower.

But sometimes, I still have dreams of Master Yi, with his sword slashing away my consciousness.