My gaze drifted toward the window of my hospital room—the only one I had ever known for as long as I could remember. The white walls and the constant hum of medical equipment had become my sole reality.

My condition worsened day by day; I could barely move my fingers, and the simple act of breathing became an exhausting task. My name is Estela, and I am one of the unfortunate victims of mixed cerebral palsy.

Ever since I became aware of myself, I have lived like this. It all began with my left arm, and then, like an unstoppable shadow, it spread to the rest of my body. Over time, I learned to stop worrying. The days in this hospital were long, empty, and all the same, accompanied only by the incessant noise of the television, which always seemed to show the same channels, interrupted by those annoying commercials—seriously, whose idea was it to create them? Sorry, I’m getting off track…

My education was like a distant echo. The nurses read me history books, filled with battles and conquests I would never experience, and educational texts that, no matter how well I understood them, I never had the chance to use in the real world. Truth be told, what I enjoyed most was listening to the conversations of the younger nurses. Not because of their gossip, but because of one particular topic that always came up in their chats: a game.

That game was… Genshin Impact. I know many would find it strange that someone like me, who could never hold a controller, would be interested in something like that. But hearing them describe it—with its vivid landscapes and challenging enemies—transported me to that fantasy world, far away from this body that imprisoned me.

As day gave way to night, silence settled in, and with it I felt my body growing weaker and weaker. My eyelids grew heavy, and without realizing it, I fell asleep… a sleep from which I never expected to wake. Or at least, that’s what I thought.

“Poor soul… so young and so alone. Don’t worry, little one. I will give you a second chance. And this time… I will make sure that nothing stands in the way of you reaching your true potential.”

I didn’t understand what was happening. The voice was unfamiliar, yet it wrapped me in an indescribable peace. As the muffled voices of the nurses and the annoying beeping of the machine faded away, I felt my senses shutting down, one by one. The end… or perhaps, the beginning.