Fia's paws clicked against her keyboard, her yellow eyes locked on the screen. Another victory. Another empty chat room with zero viewers. She wanted to build a streaming arena—a real one in Artiqua where thousands would watch her compete. But first, she needed an audience. She closed the game and opened her planning files. Her apartment was tiny—just a desk, a bed, and barely enough space to turn around. But she had ideas. She sketched neon strips along the walls, bright blues and pinks that would make her black fur pop on camera. The room needed energy, something that screamed competition. She marked spots for extra screens, better lighting, a backdrop that looked professional. This space would be her first real streaming setup, cozy but bold. Not an arena yet, but a place viewers would remember. Fia saved the designs and stretched. The dream felt huge—thousands of fans, roaring crowds, her name known across Artiqua. But it started here, in this small apartment with neon lights and one black cat determined to win. She would stream, improve, and build her audience one match at a time. The arena would come. For now, she had a plan and a space to make it happen. The neon strips arrived three days later. Fia peeled off the backing and pressed them along the walls, blue on the left, pink on the right. They hummed to life when she plugged them in. The whole room glowed. Her black fur looked sharp against the colors, exactly like she'd imagined. Next came the satellite dish—a sleek piece of equipment she'd saved up for. She mounted it outside her window and ran the cables inside. The dish would send her streams across town, reaching viewers she'd never met. It powered on with a low whir, its signal strong and steady. Fia sat at her desk and checked the connection. Everything worked. The neon lights reflected in her yellow eyes as she opened her streaming software. Her apartment felt different now—smaller but brighter, ready for action. She clicked the "Go Live" button and loaded her first match. No viewers yet, but the signal was out there. Someone would find her. The arena was still just a dream, but this cozy setup was real. This was where it started. Her first week of streaming taught her one thing—electricity bills were brutal. The neon lights, the multiple screens, the satellite dish running all day. Her setup ate through power faster than she'd planned. She needed a solution that didn't drain her savings. Outside, she spotted an alpaca trotting down the street, its fluffy coat bouncing with each step. An idea sparked. She approached the owner and made an offer—rent the alpaca for a few hours each day. The owner agreed. Fia set up a treadmill on her small balcony and connected it to a generator. The alpaca stepped on, curious but willing. It started walking, then trotting. The generator hummed. Power flowed to her equipment without touching the grid. Fia watched from her window as the alpaca kept a steady pace. Her screens stayed bright, her stream stayed live, and her electricity meter barely moved. The setup looked ridiculous—an alpaca on a treadmill powering a gaming rig—but it worked. She went back inside and sat at her desk. The viewer count ticked up to one, then two. Small numbers, but they were there. Real people watching her play. She cracked her knuckles and started another match. The arena wasn't built yet, but every step forward counted. The alpaca trotted outside. Her stream glowed inside. This was progress.