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The first installment in the Cannon MJSD Chronicles
The first installment in the Cannon MJSD Chronicles
----Chapter 1  
----'''CHAPTER 1'''


The air in Mr. Zecon's fifth-grade classroom crackled with the kind of chaotic energy only a room full of eleven-year-olds could generate. It was the kind of chaos that involved half-finished art projects splayed across desks, the faint scent of suspiciously sugary snacks, and the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of Ender, a four-year-old musical prodigy (at least in his own mind), furiously burning out a beat on his ancient macbook pro. Ender wasn't just any fan od Michael Jackson; he was a connoisseur of MJ's later, more experimental work, a fact that often resulted in him being the target of good-natured (and sometimes not-so-good-natured) ribbing from his peers.                            
On a breezy Monday morning in late April, Zecon’s 5th-grade classroom at Maple Oak Elementary buzzed with excited chatter. School was reaching the final stretch before summer vacation, and everyone could feel it in the air: the promise of sunshine, the rush of finishing final projects, and a parade of jokes that grew more ridiculous by the day.


Beside him sat Motif, the de facto leader of their little group.  Eleven years old and already sporting the world-weary cynicism of a seasoned Kermit the Frog impersonator, Motif possessed an undeniable musical talent that far outweighed his apparent apathy.  He could pick up any instrument and play it with a casual grace that bordered on magical.  He currently wielded a battered recorder, quietly playing a melody that sounded suspiciously like a remix of "Smooth Criminal."  His expression, however, remained stubbornly impassive.
The moment one walked into Zecon’s class, they would spot a jumble of misfits huddled around a set of slightly outdated Windows computers in the back corner. This group always seemed to be in the middle of banter—sometimes about Overwatch 2, other times about Michael Jackson’s lesser-known songs, or even about random comedic nonsense. Nobody quite knew how such an eclectic bunch ended up together, but they stuck like glue.


Across from Motif, Znop, a grumpy ten-year-old with a permanent frown, hunched over his laptop, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he expertly maneuvered Mercy in Overwatch 2. His love for Mercy, the game's angelic healer, was legendary amongst the group, and he'd even been known to wear a homemade Mercy halo to school (much to the amusement of Rodney).                  
In the center of the group was Motif, the eldest at eleven. He had an oddly calming presence, yet he spoke in a Kermit the Frog–like voice that was strangely contagious. If he said something was correct, the rest usually believed him. Even though Motif was known to make fun of others lightly (particularly Ender’s questionable music hooks), he still earned respect by being the best Overwatch 2 player among them. He mained Sigma, always tossing up shield barriers and gravitational fluxes to carry the team.


Goku, also ten, was a whirlwind of hyperactive energy and Mario-themed accessories. He bounced in his seat, occasionally letting out a triumphant "Wa-hoo!" after successfully completing a particularly tricky level in Super Mario Odyssey. Goku's flamboyant style and enthusiasm for all things Nintendo often made him the target of playground taunts, particularly from Oppa, his arch-nemesis, who had a knack for making Goku's life a living, breathing "game over" screen.
Near Motif was Znop, a ten-year-old from England who exuded a permanently grumpy aura. Despite the perpetual scowl, Znop had a quick wit and would break into a grin at anything he found remotely funny. With his Brighton accent, he would occasionally pronounce words in a way that would amuse the rest. “Someone call the wambulance” he’d cry, referencing a voice line from his favorite Overwatch hero. He was borderline obsessed with the Swiss medic, and the group teased him for his obsession.


Completing this quirky ensemble was Rodney, the class clown. Rodney was a walking, talking meme generator whose brain was a veritable treasure trove of brainrot jokes and unexpectedly catchy Michael Jackson remixes. He was currently attempting to teach Znop a new dance move he’d invented, a bizarre fusion of the moonwalk and the worm, which Znop, predictably, was resisting with all his might.        
Next to Znop, you might find Goku, another ten-year-old, whose energy shifted erratically between silly jokes and embarrassing stunts. He was widely teased for “gay jokes” he had once made toward Znop, thus spawning nonstop ribbing about whether he was truly into Znop. “Pfft, I was playing,” Goku would protest, though it never fully quelled the accusations. Nevertheless, the two were best friends and had each other’s backs when it mattered. Goku was notorious for messing up his first Overwatch match so spectacularly—he played Reaper and let the entire team die while he shot from far away in vain—that he’d never touched the game since.


The classroom itself seemed to reflect the energy of its inhabitants. Colorful drawings adorned the walls, alongside motivational posters sporting inspirational quotes from both Michael Jackson and motivational speakers. The air buzzed with low-level chatter, punctuated by the occasional shriek of laughter or a frustrated groan. Mr. Zecon, their teacher, a man with the patience of a saint (or perhaps, a very dedicated Overwatch player) calmly circulated, offering words of encouragement or, occasionally, corrections. Helper, their eighteen-year-old teacher's aide, who seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of colorful markers and bandages, moved through the room with the ease of someone who’d seen it all.        
In the same cluster, was a four-year-old phenomenon named Ender. Yes, four. He was notoriously small, with short brown hair and a determined glint in his eye. Ender had tested into fifth grade, making him the classroom enigma. Everyone teased him: calling him “infant,” “fetus,” “mid,” and all manner of synonyms for “you’re too young.” Yet Ender could hold his own. When it came to comebacks, he could cook sometimes. Although stuck in Bronze 3 in Overwatch 2, Ender dreamed that someday he’d carry the entire team. The others couldn’t help but snicker.


Suddenly, a shadow fell across the group, and a sneering voice cut through the cacophony. "Look at the MJSD Crew," Silv drawled, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Silv, a classmate with a talent for perfectly timed trolling, loved nothing more than to disrupt the group's harmony. She often arrived just at the right moment to inject a dose of chaos, meticulously choosing words to test the very fabric of their friendship. He was like a mischievous sprite, flitting in and out of the group's activities, leaving a trail of bewilderment and thinly veiled annoyance in his wake. This time, she had appeared just as Ender finished crafting what he believed to be a groundbreaking MJ-inspired beat.
To top it off, Ender was obsessed with the later Michael Jackson albums, particularly the track “Hollywood Tonight,” which he swore was superior to “Billie Jean.” He also tried his hand at music production, churning out songs with questionable titles like “D.I.E,” “The Future,” “Beatbox 2010,” and “I Love You More.” His hooks were often panned by the group, but Ender refused to accept any “slander,” as he called it. He also had a comedic romance with Overwatch hero Mei—the adorable ice-themed Chinese scientist.


Ender, oblivious to Silv’s arrival, proudly presented his creation.  "Listen to this, guys! It’s ‘Thriller’… but… with a trap beat!"  He beamed, headphones perched precariously on his ears. The resulting cacophony was a jarring blend of the iconic ‘Thriller’ bassline and a series of surprisingly complex trap beats.  It was, to put it simply, mediocre.    
Within earshot but not always in the core circle was Rodney, nicknamed Cartisfeet for reasons nobody quite remembered. He was an African American ten-year-old who could be absolutely silent for hours, then suddenly blurt out the strangest jokes like “She jerkin on my rod till I rampage!”—a bizarre reference to Rodney Jerkins, the producer of Michael Jackson’s Invincible album and a rumored unreleased track titled “Rampage.” Rodney rarely played Overwatch but did love remixing “GYWOOM” (a track the group called “Get Your Weight Off of Me”).


The response was mixed. Motif raised an eyebrow, a gesture that somehow conveyed both skepticism and begrudging admiration. Znop grunted, his eyes still glued to his computer. Goku, however, erupted in enthusiastic applause. Rodney, ever the opportunist, immediately started adding gywoom samples to the mix, creating an impromptu remix that would have made even the most seasoned DJ blush.    
Another friend, Sapped, was a quiet yet witty ten-year-old who often tagged along with Motif. He played the Overwatch hero named Juno. Sapped frequently collaborated with Ender on music, despite also making fun of Ender’s skill level in the game. He was the type who’d one-up Ender’s singing attempts with a random quip like “1,500 dead in Chicago,” a phrase that made no real sense but sounded so outrageous people would giggle anyway.


Silv, however, simply smirked. "Wow b*tch," she said, her voice laced with mock awe. "Truly groundbreaking.  I can't believe I haven't heard this masterpiece on the radio yet." she paused, adding a pointed glance at Ender's computer.  "I bet Korgnex would love this," she whispered, his eyes gleaming with mischief.          
There was also Tape, the so-called “archiver,” who collected all of the group’s tracks. If you wandered by him, you’d likely see a portable USB drive or external hard drive sticking out of his pocket. He mostly kept quiet but would occasionally unleash a barrage of jokes reminiscent of Sapped’s style. Tape never touched Overwatch, but he recorded everything. He would often be called "emptyvault" or "tapeflop" for not having any actual rares of value.


The name hung in the air, a cryptic whisper that immediately piqued the group's interest. Tape E. Vault, usually known simply as 'Tape', but increasingly adopting the moniker ‘Tapevault’ for his burgeoning online persona,  leaned forward, his eyes wide. "Korgnex?" he repeated, a hint of reverence in his voice. "You mean the guy who's got all those unreleased Michael Jackson tracks?" 
Silv, a slender white girl with dark brown hair, occasionally popped up to poke fun at the guys. She didn’t really care for Overwatch, but she was gradually forming a friendship (and eventual crush) with Sapped. Meanwhile, another girl named Inky, nine years old with blonde hair, played Overwatch on her Nintendo Switch—badly. She mainly liked Widowmaker but never landed her shots. She acted a bit clingy toward Ender, greeting him every morning with a sunny “Hi!” that nobody else received.


The mention of Korgnex, a shadowy figure who traded rare, unreleased MJ songs on obscure online forums, immediately shifted the focus of the group. For Tape, the quest for these legendary tracks was more than just a hobby; it was a holy grail. He was driven by a passion for finding the music that was intentionally hidden, forgotten, or lost to time, the musical equivalent of discovering a lost treasure map.  His online presence had begun to grow, but for now he held his cards close to his chest.  Korgnex was a legend whispered about in hushed tones, a figure shrouded in mystery, and for Tapevault, he was the ultimate target.
On the adult side of things, there was Helper, an 18-year-old teacher’s aide who sometimes hung out with the kids at lunch. He was a devoted fan of Jason Malachi, the rumored singer of three suspicious “Michael Jackson” tracks on the Michael Album. And then there was Zecon, the actual teacher. A quiet champion for the Michael Jackson HIStory tour, he’d field random questions like “Mr. Zecon, is the bass in ‘Thriller’ from the ARP2600 or Jupiter-8?” with fervent explanations: “Actually, kids, it’s a Jupiter-8, not an ARP2600.


Helper, ever the observant adult, intervened gently. "Okay, team, let’s focus. We have a lot of work to do today. And please, keep the volume down. Mr. Zecon is trying to grade papers." His voice, usually calm and measured, had a slight edge of exasperated amusement, a subtle indicator that even he was starting to get overwhelmed by the MJSD crew’s vibrant energy. Mr. Zecon, a quiet but observant man, smiled faintly. He'd long ago learned that trying to control the MJSD Crew was like trying to herd cats while riding a unicycle. The best approach was to simply observe, and occasionally intervene when someone needed a bandage or a snack, or a firm correction about the History tour. The combination of Michael Jackson, Overwatch, and elementary school was always a recipe for unadulterated chaos. But at least, she thought, it was never boring. And beneath the surface of the playful chaos, Mr. Zecon saw something extraordinary. These children, so different in their personalities and interests, were creating something special, a bond forged in shared passions and mutual respect. They were a team, and he was excited to see what they would accomplish. The year was just beginning and the MJSD Chronicles were about to begin in earnest.
RME was a shadow among them—a sweet kid who never made fun of anyone. He was so pleasant that even the biggest teasers in the group spared him. He’d join Overwatch matches as a random hero, not caring if he lost, always cheering, “Good job, guys!” in his wholesome British accent.
 
There was also Le’Shamone, Ender’s best friend, a talented singer who admired Michael Jackson’s more obscure works. He dreamed of playing Overwatch alongside Ender someday, but his family’s financial situation hadn’t allowed him a proper computer. Still, his unwavering optimism reminded Ender that greatness could be achieved, no matter how mid he currently was.
 
Finally, Mixer—one of the more aloof members of the class—occasionally drifted in to produce music. He constantly labeled Ender’s work as “mid” or “mediocre.” While it wasn’t outright hatred, it did put him at odds with Ender from time to time.
 
Like any good story, a shadowy figure loomed on the horizon. He wasn’t in the classroom at all, but his name was on everyone’s lips in hush-hush corners of the internet. A mysterious trader known as Korgnex had a reputation for hoarding rare, unreleased Michael Jackson tracks and Overwatch-related promotional files.
----'''CHAPTER 2: BEGINNINGS OF CONFLICT AND LAUGHTER'''
 
It was a Tuesday afternoon, right after recess, and the class was in “free study” mode. Most of the kids had hopped onto the classroom Windows PCs to practice Overwatch 2 or watch random Michael Jackson video clips. Zecon didn’t mind, as long as they finished their reading assignments by day’s end.
 
Motif took the lead in the Overwatch matchmaking queue. “Alright, folks, let’s get another match going. LOCK IN,” he said in his Kermit-like voice.
 
“It not my fault we keep loosing, Im supposed to be playing Mei!” Ender snapped back, crossing his arms in a comically defensive pose. “I pick Bastion only if you guys beg me. You know that.”
 
With a grin, Znop pitched in. “You do remember last week, right? You ran straight into the enemy and got killed instantly”
 
Ender shrugged. “Still stalled them long enough for you guys to get on the point,” he retorted. He adjusted the volume on his headphones, which were playing an "Off the Wall" mashup with “Hollywood Tonight” remix he’d made the previous night. The beat was off by half a second, but Ender barely noticed.
 
Goku cackled from the next computer. “I’m telling you, Ender, you gotta fix that beat. It’s so… off. Might as well call it ‘Off the Beat Tonight’ instead of ‘Off the Wall Tonight.’” The entire group snickered.
 
In the corner, Helper was reviewing college admission forms discreetly. He’d chosen Maple Oak Elementary as his senior-year internship in hopes of securing a scholarship for his dream school. He occasionally glanced over the group’s shoulders, chiming in with random facts about Jason Malachi’s rumored involvement in songs like “Monster” and “Breaking News.” The kids always gave him blank stares but let him talk because he was chill.
 
Meanwhile, Tape was rummaging through a file folder on his USB drive. “I’ve almost got a complete archive of all your songs,” he announced. “Ender, did you send me the ‘Beatbox 2010’ file?”
 
Ender nodded. “Yeah, but the version I gave you has that weird error at 2:32. The drums vanish for a second.”
 
“I know,” Tape said with a sigh. “I’m archiving it anyway. I’ll keep an eye out for an unglitched version if you ever fix it.”
 
Oppa, who had been lurking behind them, gave Goku a smug look. “Ok,” he said, offering nothing else.
 
Goku’s eye twitched and he swiveled in his chair towards Oppa angrily. “Dude, stop just saying ‘ok’ all the time,” he snapped, remembering how Oppa always answered him with the same single word.
 
“Ok,” Oppa repeated, smirking slightly.
 
The entire cluster burst into laughter, except RME, who politely smiled and typed a cheerful “gg!” in the Overwatch chat.
 
Goku, consumed by his anger grabbed Oppa by his collar and glared at him "If you say 'ok' ONE MORE TIME I SWEAR i'll beat the YRMW beat on your butt till you give an ACTUAL RESPONSE"
 
Oppa recoiled cautiously, and remained quiet for the rest of the day.
----'''CHAPTER 3: MICHAEL JACKSON REVERIES AND NEW DOUBTS'''
 
As the week rolled on, the group discovered a new rumor swirling online: someone named Korgnex was gatekeeping never-before-heard Michael Jackson tracks from every era. Rumor had it Korgnex was unstoppable in Overwatch matches, frequently challenging unsuspecting teams to 6v6 showdowns in exchange for access to the unreleased media.
 
Tape was the one to bring it up first. “I found this mention of Korgnex on the MJLeaks forum,” he whispered to Motif on a Friday morning. “Says here that the guy has a few dozen unreleased tracks—like ‘Throwing Your Life Away,’ ‘Rocker,’ even something called ‘Nymphette Lover’? People are calling it a Thriller era outtake.”
 
Motif’s eyes widened. “Nymphette Lover? I’ve heard about that. Could be a huge discovery.”
 
At the next break, Tape shared what he found with the entire group. Ender leaned forward, enthralled. “If we could get ‘Hollywood Tonight’ multitracks—like separate instrument stems—I could fix up the beat for my new remix!” He practically drooled at the thought.
 
Inky, overhearing, piped up. “I’ll help if I can. Widowmaker… I mean, I can practice with you guys. I’m not too good, but maybe we can do it together.” She beamed.
 
Mixer, from the far side of the room, snorted. “Like you guys could do anything but produce mid content. If Korgnex is that legendary, he’ll smoke you all.”
 
Ender scowled. “You’re the mid one, Mixer. At least I make my own beats”
 
"At least I make my own drums- oh and also im not a fetus" Mixer responded, smirking.
 
Before a full-blown argument could ensue, Zecon rose from his desk, adjusting his tie. “Class, let’s settle down for a moment. Since we’re finishing up our reading and writing projects, I’m letting you have a bit of free time. But let’s not forget we have a quiz on Monday about the HIStory tour—particularly the setlist changes in ’97. Sound good?”
 
A wave of cheers rolled through the class. Even the quiet ones, like RME, smiled. A quiz about Michael Jackson was better than a quiz about geometry any day.
----'''CHAPTER 4: TENSION RISES—ENDER’S DETERMINATION'''
 
A few days later, at lunchtime, the group crowded around Helper and his laptop. He was showing them something about Jason Malachi’s track “Stay,” which fans knew came form the "Bible Album." The kids were half-interested, half-distracted by Overwatch chat logs.
 
Ender was quietly fuming. Another round of teasing had found its way to him that morning—some kids outside their group had overheard “D.I.E” playing from Ender’s headphones and ridiculed him about the chorus lyrics: You’re Gonna D.I.E this way… Even Motif had joined in, quoting the line in a mocking singsong voice. Ender felt his ego stung.
 
Le’Shamone patted his shoulder gently. “Don’t listen to them, Ender. We’ll prove them wrong someday, yeah?”
 
Ender nodded, grateful for his friend’s support. “Yeah… they'll see I’m not mid. Im gonna make a beat that’s so good, no one can deny it's peakness.”
 
Le’Shamone nodded. “You can do it,” he said softly, though behind the encouraging words lay an acknowledgment that Ender was cripplingly mediocre. He had to work twice as hard to gain half the respect.
 
Meanwhile, Goku was explaining to the others how he had a crush on the Overwatch hero Juno. “Her butt is just… you know,” he began, wiggling his eyebrows.
 
Motif shook his head, half amused. “Alright, pal. You do you. Just remember the rest of the team actually wants to, you know, win.
 
Sapped chuckled. “Dude, Goku, we all know you're gay for Znop.”
 
Before Goku could respond, Silv appeared out of nowhere and flicked Sapped’s ear. “You’re all so weird,” she teased. “But if I had to pick, that Lucio hero is kinda majestic.” She stuck out her tongue and dashed off to rejoin her girlfriends, leaving Sapped blushing a bit.
----'''CHAPTER 5: FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH KORGNEX & HELPER’S SUBTLE DREAM'''
 
On an otherwise unremarkable Wednesday, Tape ran into the classroom, nearly breathless. “Guys! Korgnex posted a challenge in the MJLeaks forum. He says if anyone can beat his Overwatch team in a 6v6, he might be ‘persuaded’ to share certain unreleased tracks!”
 
The group erupted in excited chatter. Ender’s eyes lit up with a passionate glow. “We have to do it,” he insisted. “If I can get those Hollywood Tonight multitracks… that’s all I need to make the perfect remix.”
 
Motif stroked his chin thoughtfully. “We can form a team. Let’s see… me on Sigma, Ender on Mei—”
 
“Inky can do Widowmaker, maybe. Sapped can be Juno, Znop can go Mercy, and Tape… Wait, do you even play Overwatch?”
 
Tape shook his head. “No, but I can learn.”
 
“If we’re doing 6v6, that’s six. The rest can watch from the sidelines. We just have to practice like crazy,” Motif reasoned.
 
In the corner, Helper quietly folded a letter and slid it into his back pocket. It was an acceptance letter to a prestigious college he had dreamed about for years. He tried not to show any emotion—he didn’t want the kids to swarm him with questions—but inside, relief and joy bloomed. He’d have to tell them soon enough, but for now, he let them focus on the upcoming match.
 
CHAPTER 6: TRAINING AND TRIALS
 
The following week became a whirlwind of Overwatch 2 practice. Every lunchtime and free study period found the group in the computer corner, building synergy. Motif barked orders like a seasoned general, instructing the others when to push, when to hold, how to coordinate ultimates.
 
Znop dedicated himself to perfecting his Mercy gameplay. “I’m not dying again on the front line,” he declared in his British accent. “I’m staying behind you, Motif, so keep me safe!”
 
Inky struggled as Widowmaker. She missed more shots than she hit. Ender tried to console her, though half the time he was too busy glazing Mei’s newly added skins.
 
Sapped re-learned the mechanics of Juno, perfecting them. He made sure to adapt to Motif’s strategies, occasionally winking at Silv whenever she strolled by. Over the course of these lunchtime practices, Sapped and Silv grew closer. They hung out more between class periods, exchanging jokes and, eventually, phone numbers—though they mostly used the computers in the classroom to chat.
 
Meanwhile, Tape was the biggest wildcard. He had no experience, but he tried different Overwatch heroes every day until he settled on playing a decent Reinhardt or D.Va for tanking. “It’s not so bad. I think I can do this if we keep practicing,” he admitted, his face glowing with an unusual excitement.
 
Despite the hype, not everyone believed in Ender. Mixer waltzed by often, hurling the same “You’re mid” insults. But Ender was beginning to turn a corner. Something inside him was unlocking—a burning desire to prove everyone wrong, to show that a mediocre four-year-old could rise to peakness.
 
In the background, as if orchestrating the entire show, Goku watched with a smirk. He had little interest in rejoining Overwatch but teased Znop mercilessly about Mercy’s outfit. “You just like her for her wings right?” he joked, but in truth, Goku was starting to show signs of wanting a real girlfriend.
 
Le’Shamone quietly cheered Ender on. “You’ll do great, man. Keep at it. And hey, one day I’ll have a computer, and we can both climb out of Bronze.”
 
Ender sighed. “One Day...”
 
Helper, still keeping his college acceptance under wraps, occasionally slipped them motivational tips. “Don’t forget to watch your replays. Analyze what went wrong. That’s how you improve.The kids actually listened to him.

Revision as of 06:31, 15 January 2025

The first installment in the Cannon MJSD Chronicles


CHAPTER 1

On a breezy Monday morning in late April, Zecon’s 5th-grade classroom at Maple Oak Elementary buzzed with excited chatter. School was reaching the final stretch before summer vacation, and everyone could feel it in the air: the promise of sunshine, the rush of finishing final projects, and a parade of jokes that grew more ridiculous by the day.

The moment one walked into Zecon’s class, they would spot a jumble of misfits huddled around a set of slightly outdated Windows computers in the back corner. This group always seemed to be in the middle of banter—sometimes about Overwatch 2, other times about Michael Jackson’s lesser-known songs, or even about random comedic nonsense. Nobody quite knew how such an eclectic bunch ended up together, but they stuck like glue.

In the center of the group was Motif, the eldest at eleven. He had an oddly calming presence, yet he spoke in a Kermit the Frog–like voice that was strangely contagious. If he said something was correct, the rest usually believed him. Even though Motif was known to make fun of others lightly (particularly Ender’s questionable music hooks), he still earned respect by being the best Overwatch 2 player among them. He mained Sigma, always tossing up shield barriers and gravitational fluxes to carry the team.

Near Motif was Znop, a ten-year-old from England who exuded a permanently grumpy aura. Despite the perpetual scowl, Znop had a quick wit and would break into a grin at anything he found remotely funny. With his Brighton accent, he would occasionally pronounce words in a way that would amuse the rest. “Someone call the wambulance” he’d cry, referencing a voice line from his favorite Overwatch hero. He was borderline obsessed with the Swiss medic, and the group teased him for his obsession.

Next to Znop, you might find Goku, another ten-year-old, whose energy shifted erratically between silly jokes and embarrassing stunts. He was widely teased for “gay jokes” he had once made toward Znop, thus spawning nonstop ribbing about whether he was truly into Znop. “Pfft, I was playing,” Goku would protest, though it never fully quelled the accusations. Nevertheless, the two were best friends and had each other’s backs when it mattered. Goku was notorious for messing up his first Overwatch match so spectacularly—he played Reaper and let the entire team die while he shot from far away in vain—that he’d never touched the game since.

In the same cluster, was a four-year-old phenomenon named Ender. Yes, four. He was notoriously small, with short brown hair and a determined glint in his eye. Ender had tested into fifth grade, making him the classroom enigma. Everyone teased him: calling him “infant,” “fetus,” “mid,” and all manner of synonyms for “you’re too young.” Yet Ender could hold his own. When it came to comebacks, he could cook sometimes. Although stuck in Bronze 3 in Overwatch 2, Ender dreamed that someday he’d carry the entire team. The others couldn’t help but snicker.

To top it off, Ender was obsessed with the later Michael Jackson albums, particularly the track “Hollywood Tonight,” which he swore was superior to “Billie Jean.” He also tried his hand at music production, churning out songs with questionable titles like “D.I.E,” “The Future,” “Beatbox 2010,” and “I Love You More.” His hooks were often panned by the group, but Ender refused to accept any “slander,” as he called it. He also had a comedic romance with Overwatch hero Mei—the adorable ice-themed Chinese scientist.

Within earshot but not always in the core circle was Rodney, nicknamed Cartisfeet for reasons nobody quite remembered. He was an African American ten-year-old who could be absolutely silent for hours, then suddenly blurt out the strangest jokes like “She jerkin on my rod till I rampage!”—a bizarre reference to Rodney Jerkins, the producer of Michael Jackson’s Invincible album and a rumored unreleased track titled “Rampage.” Rodney rarely played Overwatch but did love remixing “GYWOOM” (a track the group called “Get Your Weight Off of Me”).

Another friend, Sapped, was a quiet yet witty ten-year-old who often tagged along with Motif. He played the Overwatch hero named Juno. Sapped frequently collaborated with Ender on music, despite also making fun of Ender’s skill level in the game. He was the type who’d one-up Ender’s singing attempts with a random quip like “1,500 dead in Chicago,” a phrase that made no real sense but sounded so outrageous people would giggle anyway.

There was also Tape, the so-called “archiver,” who collected all of the group’s tracks. If you wandered by him, you’d likely see a portable USB drive or external hard drive sticking out of his pocket. He mostly kept quiet but would occasionally unleash a barrage of jokes reminiscent of Sapped’s style. Tape never touched Overwatch, but he recorded everything. He would often be called "emptyvault" or "tapeflop" for not having any actual rares of value.

Silv, a slender white girl with dark brown hair, occasionally popped up to poke fun at the guys. She didn’t really care for Overwatch, but she was gradually forming a friendship (and eventual crush) with Sapped. Meanwhile, another girl named Inky, nine years old with blonde hair, played Overwatch on her Nintendo Switch—badly. She mainly liked Widowmaker but never landed her shots. She acted a bit clingy toward Ender, greeting him every morning with a sunny “Hi!” that nobody else received.

On the adult side of things, there was Helper, an 18-year-old teacher’s aide who sometimes hung out with the kids at lunch. He was a devoted fan of Jason Malachi, the rumored singer of three suspicious “Michael Jackson” tracks on the Michael Album. And then there was Zecon, the actual teacher. A quiet champion for the Michael Jackson HIStory tour, he’d field random questions like “Mr. Zecon, is the bass in ‘Thriller’ from the ARP2600 or Jupiter-8?” with fervent explanations: “Actually, kids, it’s a Jupiter-8, not an ARP2600.”

RME was a shadow among them—a sweet kid who never made fun of anyone. He was so pleasant that even the biggest teasers in the group spared him. He’d join Overwatch matches as a random hero, not caring if he lost, always cheering, “Good job, guys!” in his wholesome British accent.

There was also Le’Shamone, Ender’s best friend, a talented singer who admired Michael Jackson’s more obscure works. He dreamed of playing Overwatch alongside Ender someday, but his family’s financial situation hadn’t allowed him a proper computer. Still, his unwavering optimism reminded Ender that greatness could be achieved, no matter how mid he currently was.

Finally, Mixer—one of the more aloof members of the class—occasionally drifted in to produce music. He constantly labeled Ender’s work as “mid” or “mediocre.” While it wasn’t outright hatred, it did put him at odds with Ender from time to time.

Like any good story, a shadowy figure loomed on the horizon. He wasn’t in the classroom at all, but his name was on everyone’s lips in hush-hush corners of the internet. A mysterious trader known as Korgnex had a reputation for hoarding rare, unreleased Michael Jackson tracks and Overwatch-related promotional files.


CHAPTER 2: BEGINNINGS OF CONFLICT AND LAUGHTER

It was a Tuesday afternoon, right after recess, and the class was in “free study” mode. Most of the kids had hopped onto the classroom Windows PCs to practice Overwatch 2 or watch random Michael Jackson video clips. Zecon didn’t mind, as long as they finished their reading assignments by day’s end.

Motif took the lead in the Overwatch matchmaking queue. “Alright, folks, let’s get another match going. LOCK IN,” he said in his Kermit-like voice.

“It not my fault we keep loosing, Im supposed to be playing Mei!” Ender snapped back, crossing his arms in a comically defensive pose. “I pick Bastion only if you guys beg me. You know that.”

With a grin, Znop pitched in. “You do remember last week, right? You ran straight into the enemy and got killed instantly”

Ender shrugged. “Still stalled them long enough for you guys to get on the point,” he retorted. He adjusted the volume on his headphones, which were playing an "Off the Wall" mashup with “Hollywood Tonight” remix he’d made the previous night. The beat was off by half a second, but Ender barely noticed.

Goku cackled from the next computer. “I’m telling you, Ender, you gotta fix that beat. It’s so… off. Might as well call it ‘Off the Beat Tonight’ instead of ‘Off the Wall Tonight.’” The entire group snickered.

In the corner, Helper was reviewing college admission forms discreetly. He’d chosen Maple Oak Elementary as his senior-year internship in hopes of securing a scholarship for his dream school. He occasionally glanced over the group’s shoulders, chiming in with random facts about Jason Malachi’s rumored involvement in songs like “Monster” and “Breaking News.” The kids always gave him blank stares but let him talk because he was chill.

Meanwhile, Tape was rummaging through a file folder on his USB drive. “I’ve almost got a complete archive of all your songs,” he announced. “Ender, did you send me the ‘Beatbox 2010’ file?”

Ender nodded. “Yeah, but the version I gave you has that weird error at 2:32. The drums vanish for a second.”

“I know,” Tape said with a sigh. “I’m archiving it anyway. I’ll keep an eye out for an unglitched version if you ever fix it.”

Oppa, who had been lurking behind them, gave Goku a smug look. “Ok,” he said, offering nothing else.

Goku’s eye twitched and he swiveled in his chair towards Oppa angrily. “Dude, stop just saying ‘ok’ all the time,” he snapped, remembering how Oppa always answered him with the same single word.

“Ok,” Oppa repeated, smirking slightly.

The entire cluster burst into laughter, except RME, who politely smiled and typed a cheerful “gg!” in the Overwatch chat.

Goku, consumed by his anger grabbed Oppa by his collar and glared at him "If you say 'ok' ONE MORE TIME I SWEAR i'll beat the YRMW beat on your butt till you give an ACTUAL RESPONSE"

Oppa recoiled cautiously, and remained quiet for the rest of the day.


CHAPTER 3: MICHAEL JACKSON REVERIES AND NEW DOUBTS

As the week rolled on, the group discovered a new rumor swirling online: someone named Korgnex was gatekeeping never-before-heard Michael Jackson tracks from every era. Rumor had it Korgnex was unstoppable in Overwatch matches, frequently challenging unsuspecting teams to 6v6 showdowns in exchange for access to the unreleased media.

Tape was the one to bring it up first. “I found this mention of Korgnex on the MJLeaks forum,” he whispered to Motif on a Friday morning. “Says here that the guy has a few dozen unreleased tracks—like ‘Throwing Your Life Away,’ ‘Rocker,’ even something called ‘Nymphette Lover’? People are calling it a Thriller era outtake.”

Motif’s eyes widened. “Nymphette Lover? I’ve heard about that. Could be a huge discovery.”

At the next break, Tape shared what he found with the entire group. Ender leaned forward, enthralled. “If we could get ‘Hollywood Tonight’ multitracks—like separate instrument stems—I could fix up the beat for my new remix!” He practically drooled at the thought.

Inky, overhearing, piped up. “I’ll help if I can. Widowmaker… I mean, I can practice with you guys. I’m not too good, but maybe we can do it together.” She beamed.

Mixer, from the far side of the room, snorted. “Like you guys could do anything but produce mid content. If Korgnex is that legendary, he’ll smoke you all.”

Ender scowled. “You’re the mid one, Mixer. At least I make my own beats”

"At least I make my own drums- oh and also im not a fetus" Mixer responded, smirking.

Before a full-blown argument could ensue, Zecon rose from his desk, adjusting his tie. “Class, let’s settle down for a moment. Since we’re finishing up our reading and writing projects, I’m letting you have a bit of free time. But let’s not forget we have a quiz on Monday about the HIStory tour—particularly the setlist changes in ’97. Sound good?”

A wave of cheers rolled through the class. Even the quiet ones, like RME, smiled. A quiz about Michael Jackson was better than a quiz about geometry any day.


CHAPTER 4: TENSION RISES—ENDER’S DETERMINATION

A few days later, at lunchtime, the group crowded around Helper and his laptop. He was showing them something about Jason Malachi’s track “Stay,” which fans knew came form the "Bible Album." The kids were half-interested, half-distracted by Overwatch chat logs.

Ender was quietly fuming. Another round of teasing had found its way to him that morning—some kids outside their group had overheard “D.I.E” playing from Ender’s headphones and ridiculed him about the chorus lyrics: You’re Gonna D.I.E this way… Even Motif had joined in, quoting the line in a mocking singsong voice. Ender felt his ego stung.

Le’Shamone patted his shoulder gently. “Don’t listen to them, Ender. We’ll prove them wrong someday, yeah?”

Ender nodded, grateful for his friend’s support. “Yeah… they'll see I’m not mid. Im gonna make a beat that’s so good, no one can deny it's peakness.”

Le’Shamone nodded. “You can do it,” he said softly, though behind the encouraging words lay an acknowledgment that Ender was cripplingly mediocre. He had to work twice as hard to gain half the respect.

Meanwhile, Goku was explaining to the others how he had a crush on the Overwatch hero Juno. “Her butt is just… you know,” he began, wiggling his eyebrows.

Motif shook his head, half amused. “Alright, pal. You do you. Just remember the rest of the team actually wants to, you know, win.”

Sapped chuckled. “Dude, Goku, we all know you're gay for Znop.”

Before Goku could respond, Silv appeared out of nowhere and flicked Sapped’s ear. “You’re all so weird,” she teased. “But if I had to pick, that Lucio hero is kinda majestic.” She stuck out her tongue and dashed off to rejoin her girlfriends, leaving Sapped blushing a bit.


CHAPTER 5: FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH KORGNEX & HELPER’S SUBTLE DREAM

On an otherwise unremarkable Wednesday, Tape ran into the classroom, nearly breathless. “Guys! Korgnex posted a challenge in the MJLeaks forum. He says if anyone can beat his Overwatch team in a 6v6, he might be ‘persuaded’ to share certain unreleased tracks!”

The group erupted in excited chatter. Ender’s eyes lit up with a passionate glow. “We have to do it,” he insisted. “If I can get those Hollywood Tonight multitracks… that’s all I need to make the perfect remix.”

Motif stroked his chin thoughtfully. “We can form a team. Let’s see… me on Sigma, Ender on Mei—”

“Inky can do Widowmaker, maybe. Sapped can be Juno, Znop can go Mercy, and Tape… Wait, do you even play Overwatch?”

Tape shook his head. “No, but I can learn.”

“If we’re doing 6v6, that’s six. The rest can watch from the sidelines. We just have to practice like crazy,” Motif reasoned.

In the corner, Helper quietly folded a letter and slid it into his back pocket. It was an acceptance letter to a prestigious college he had dreamed about for years. He tried not to show any emotion—he didn’t want the kids to swarm him with questions—but inside, relief and joy bloomed. He’d have to tell them soon enough, but for now, he let them focus on the upcoming match.

CHAPTER 6: TRAINING AND TRIALS

The following week became a whirlwind of Overwatch 2 practice. Every lunchtime and free study period found the group in the computer corner, building synergy. Motif barked orders like a seasoned general, instructing the others when to push, when to hold, how to coordinate ultimates.

Znop dedicated himself to perfecting his Mercy gameplay. “I’m not dying again on the front line,” he declared in his British accent. “I’m staying behind you, Motif, so keep me safe!”

Inky struggled as Widowmaker. She missed more shots than she hit. Ender tried to console her, though half the time he was too busy glazing Mei’s newly added skins.

Sapped re-learned the mechanics of Juno, perfecting them. He made sure to adapt to Motif’s strategies, occasionally winking at Silv whenever she strolled by. Over the course of these lunchtime practices, Sapped and Silv grew closer. They hung out more between class periods, exchanging jokes and, eventually, phone numbers—though they mostly used the computers in the classroom to chat.

Meanwhile, Tape was the biggest wildcard. He had no experience, but he tried different Overwatch heroes every day until he settled on playing a decent Reinhardt or D.Va for tanking. “It’s not so bad. I think I can do this if we keep practicing,” he admitted, his face glowing with an unusual excitement.

Despite the hype, not everyone believed in Ender. Mixer waltzed by often, hurling the same “You’re mid” insults. But Ender was beginning to turn a corner. Something inside him was unlocking—a burning desire to prove everyone wrong, to show that a mediocre four-year-old could rise to peakness.

In the background, as if orchestrating the entire show, Goku watched with a smirk. He had little interest in rejoining Overwatch but teased Znop mercilessly about Mercy’s outfit. “You just like her for her wings right?” he joked, but in truth, Goku was starting to show signs of wanting a real girlfriend.

Le’Shamone quietly cheered Ender on. “You’ll do great, man. Keep at it. And hey, one day I’ll have a computer, and we can both climb out of Bronze.”

Ender sighed. “One Day...”

Helper, still keeping his college acceptance under wraps, occasionally slipped them motivational tips. “Don’t forget to watch your replays. Analyze what went wrong. That’s how you improve.” The kids actually listened to him.