I was born in Mirage, a place full of stories, where the sound of footsteps mixes with the desert wind. Mirage wasn’t just a battleground to me—it was home. It was a maze of alleys, big arches, and lively markets. Every corner felt familiar, every path felt like second nature. But my story started long before I was born, when my parents first met on the map.

My dad was a T-side strategist, always taking big risks and coming up with clever plans. My mom was on the CT side, sharp and quick, always ahead of the game. One afternoon, during a match, their paths crossed. My dad was rushing mid, and my mom was holding down connector. They saw each other, and for a moment, everything stopped.

Instead of shooting, they just stood there, and something clicked between them. They started talking, and by the end of the match, they weren’t just opponents—they were connected. Over time, they met more often, shared stories, and eventually decided to make Mirage their home. A year later, I was born right there in the middle of it all. My cradle was a crate on B-site, and my lullabies were the sounds of gunfire and practice rounds.

Growing up in Mirage was different. I knew every corner, every angle, and every sound. The strategies became a part of me. And that’s why I’m hunting you here, right now during this match. Simply - you can’t beat someone who was born there.