Valorant - Story Mode Imagined - Male Reader

Chapter 1: The Radiant Hunter

The First Light. A blinding flash that shattered the world, sending shockwaves through every city, every country on Earth. This inexplicable phenomenon left behind a precious gift: Radianite. Prominently discovered all over the planet after The First Light, they began to be extensively used by men for the production of technology and energy. This is the reason technology could ever advance to unimaginable heights, and possibilities. Many saw it as a divine offering, a boon from above.

The world seemed unanimous in its understanding, except for a select few—the "gifted ones."

The First Light gave rise to the Radiants. Shortly after, individuals began to manifest extraordinary superhuman abilities. While these powers held the potential for societal good, they also carried the risk of unimaginable harm. Crime rates soared, as some exploited their newfound powers for personal gain, leaving others to mourn the loss of loved ones, casualties of uncontrollable forces.

For some, it was a blessing. For others, the Light that had forever changed the world a decade ago was...

.

a curse bestowed upon humanity.

.

.

Present day, 2:06 AM

Somewhere in Vancouver, Canada. 

(Or any city in your country of choice. This is YOUR story, after all!)

"Reports of a disaster in Italy. Having the ground explode into the air, Venice is now 300 meters above the ground. Radianite may have been involved. Kingdom, whose Radianite program accounts for over three quarters of the world's energy production, has denied any connection to this disaster--"

Y/n leaned against the counter, his gaze fixed on the television broadcasting the increasingly chaotic world. Each passing day seemed to push the boundaries of madness further, but the news unfolding before him was on a whole new level. With a cloth in hand, he meticulously wiped a wine glass, ensuring its pristine condition before hanging it on the rack in front of him. He reached for another freshly washed glass, continuing his task with practiced efficiency.

A man seated across the counter broke the silence, voicing the thoughts that lingered in the air. "Well, the world's really going to the shitter one of these days..." he muttered, pushing his empty glass toward the bartender, "More beer, please" he said. Y/n, who doubled as the bartender, offered a polite smile and gently declined the request.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't serve you any more beer tonight," he replied. Glancing at his watch, he added, "It's already 2:07 AM, and we close at 2." Lowering his wrist, he carefully placed another glass on the rack. "I'll be here again tomorrow if you fancy more drinks," he reassured in a soft tone. Late-night patrons were a regular occurrence in the bar, and y/n had grown accustomed to their presence over the years. He understood that losing track of time was all too common, and he didn't wish to inconvenience the customer. As the man's coat concealed his arms, y/n's gaze unintentionally fell upon his hands. The sight of metallic prosthetics caught his attention, prompting thoughts of the untold and perhaps tragic tale behind them.

"Huh...? Oh, no worries," the customer replied, a hint of surprise in his voice. He rose from his seat, preparing to take his leave. Towering over 2 meters tall, his bearded face and braided brown hair exuded a rugged charm. His metallic hand casually slipped into the pocket of his coat, retrieving a handful of dollars that he placed on the counter, creating a faint clattering sound. With a nod, he made his way toward the exit. "That's a little something for your service. I won't be around tomorrow. Actually, I won't even be in this country anymore," he stated, followed by a chuckle. "Thanks for the beer." With that, he swung the door open and departed, his murmurs fading as the door closed behind him.