Life. Death. Victory. Defeat. I have seen them all. The world I once lived in had no mercy for the weak. And it never forgave the strong for their mistakes.
If you're weak — you're nothing. They command you. Mock you. Use you. You're dust beneath the feet of those who walk forward without ever looking back.
But if you're strong… Every door opens before you. The world bows down to you like to a god. You sit on the throne, gaze down from above, and dictate the rules. You are the Emperor.
I wasn't always like this.
I spent the first half of my life in darkness.
I was nobody. Just a name without meaning.
A formless shadow, stripped of will, desires, and purpose.
I lived because I breathed. I existed because no one bothered to erase me from the map.
I looked up at the world from below — a pathetic plebeian, shackled and resigned.
But then… She changed me. My mother.
She never gave up on me. Never scolded, never abandoned, never despised me — even though she could have. She simply looked at me with an unconditional, sincere, almost terrifying love. A love I did not deserve... back then.
And then came chess. A cold board. Sixty-four squares. Thirty-two pieces. And me.
Chess showed me the way. It revealed that there is no equality in this world. There are only positions. Moves. Control. It gave me power.
When I won — I felt the world bending to my will. When I humiliated opponents, tearing them apart — I felt alive. I became the Emperor of the board. Merciless. Emotionless. Without the right to lose.
I dreamed of one thing — to face the legend. To face Fischer. To crush him on the board.
To prove to the world — and to myself — that I was worthy. That I was above him. That I was the new god of this world.
But Fischer vanished. Without a trace. No explanations. No farewells. And in his place came… Keller.
How I laughed. How I scoffed. "A nobody. A hollow substitute. A puppet for the crowd."
"A shadow cannot become a king," I said. "Keller is nothing but a cheap imitation."
I said it in interviews. On panels. In my thoughts. I needed to believe it. Because if it wasn't true… then my throne was in danger.
I didn't take him seriously. I never studied him deeply. I only analyzed his moves, never the man.
And that was my fatal mistake.
Years passed, and I grew. Ratings, fame, fear in my opponents' eyes — all of it became background noise. I was nearing the peak.
The championship match was drawing close.
And then — for the first time — I asked myself:
Why did Fischer leave?
A man whose mind lit up the game like lightning. Whose every move was destruction turned into poetry. How could someone like him just… vanish?
I began weaving theories. The mafia. Conspiracies. Political ploys. I convinced myself Keller was a pawn in someone else's game.
But I didn't want to face the truth. I didn't want to admit that perhaps… it was something else.
I thought I knew everything. But I only knew his games — not his soul. I saw the form, not the essence.
And when we met for the first time — I didn't feel fear… I felt something magical. Cold. Inhuman.
What radiated from him wasn't mere strength.
It was an otherworldly, almost magical aura.
As if he didn't belong to this world. As if reality itself trembled around him.
It wasn't presence — it was intrusion. As if behind him stood forces so old and vast that mortals dare not whisper their names.
And in that moment, I knew: I had miscalculated.
Arrogance had blinded me. I hadn't listened to my mother. I ignored her wise words when she said: "Let your mind be cold, and your heart — clear."
I thought emotions were weakness. But true weakness… was my pride.
I truly regret… that I will never see her again.
She was the only one I ever truly loved.
Genuinely. Deeply. To the very core of my being. Even the thought that our paths will never cross again leaves behind a hollow emptiness.
A void where despair quietly resides.
I only hope… that my death didn't leave a scar upon her heart. Let her live. Let her laugh. Let her breathe freely. She deserves that much.
If only I had been wiser… I should have lost that final match to Keller. Resigned. Lowered my head. If I had humbled myself — perhaps he wouldn't have had a reason to kill me.
Yes, I would've lost respect. My image. The crown of the Emperor. But I would've survived. Maybe I would've lost a battle…
but I would've preserved the chance to win the war.
The irony is cruel: That very victory became the root of my downfall.
And then— a voice echoed out of nowhere.
— Had you lost that match…
— Had you cast aside your pride and walked away…
— You would still be alive.
— Still by her side, living in love.
I recognized that voice instantly. To the point of pain. To the edge of fury.
It was him.
Rage erupted within me like wildfire.
— You can read my thoughts now?! I barked, fists clenched in fury and disbelief.
His reply came — calm. Cold. Detached from all emotion.
— You're in my darkness now.
— My dimension.
— Here, I see all your thoughts.
— Here, you are nothing but a pawn.
— A pawn without secrets.
I drew a deep breath. The anger still boiled —
but I forced myself back into composure.
— You didn't come here just to mock my downfall… did you?
— How perceptive of you.
— A true genius.
— No. I came to show you something.
And then— the darkness split open.
A portal tore through the black, massive and blinding, like a wound carved into the very fabric of reality. It shone with a haunting brilliance.
— Enter, he said. There's something… interesting I want you to see.
He said no more. And I — without a word — stepped through.
After stepping through the portal, I found myself once again in a world that was… alive.
The air, the sky, even the light itself — everything felt tangible, almost painfully real. And there, high above the ground, I saw him.
No — not a man. Or, at the very least, not something that could be called human anymore. A being with magnificent, snow-white wings soared through the sky with the grandeur of an ancient myth. He looked like a god. Immaculate. Pristine. With a face seemingly carved from light. Like an angel torn from the pages of holy scripture.
And yet — I wasn't shaken. After everything I had endured… it was hard to be surprised by anything anymore.
I recalled the moment I tried to shoot Keller. There had been about twenty-five meters between us. And he… crossed that distance in less than a second. As if he had torn through the fabric of space. As if he had teleported. Even then, I began to understand — this was no ordinary man.
And before that, before our match for the chess crown... when I first entered the hall, I already sensed something wrong. Something unnatural. A presence not of this world. And now, staring at the winged figure in the sky, I no longer had any doubt. It was him. Keller.
He descended from the heavens slowly, almost soundlessly, and came to stand before me. Our eyes locked.
He was the first to break the silence.
— You truly are surprising, — he said, his gaze fixed on my face. — No fear. No awe. And it seems the fact that I am a god leaves you utterly unimpressed.
I held the pause, then answered with a dismissive half-smile:
— Should it? Am I, the Emperor, supposed to tremble before some... lesser god?
Keller narrowed his eyes slightly, while I continued, gaze unwavering:
— Perhaps I didn't believe in gods before. But after everything that has happened… surprise is a feeling long exiled from my nature.
I fell silent for a moment. Then, quieter, almost as if confessing to myself:
— If, back then in our match, I had surrendered… if I had cast aside my pride… treated that defeat as part of the game — perhaps I would have lost the match. But I might have preserved my life. Sometimes defeat is the true form of victory. But back then… I couldn't understand that. Losing would've meant becoming a plebeian. And I sought to be an Emperor.
Keller tilted his head, studying me as if confirming something for himself.
— Then you're walking the right path, Angelo Nobell.
I gave a slight nod.
— I wasn't ready to lose. Not because the rules forbade it… but because I was a slave to my own arrogance. To me, defeat was the end. I couldn't see it as a lesson. I wanted to be the Emperor — absolute, infallible. Without weakness. Without compromise.
He smirked.
— Even back in that alley, when you were surrounded by me and my five pawns… You thought you were close to putting me in checkmate. You slipped that bug into my pocket during our handshake. A psychological trick. I noticed, of course. I am a god. I knew. But I never expected how you'd use it. That you'd go through with the kill. So cold-blooded. Without hesitation. You fought to the very end. Unlike Fischer.
I met his eyes.
— Fischer… You lied back then. Said your men had beaten him. But the truth is, he broke on his own. You revealed your true form to him — and he couldn't bear it. He never believed in gods. His mind shattered at the realization that everything he believed in… was false. He was a great player. But only on the outside. Inside, he was still a child. He wasn't destroyed by power. He was destroyed by truth.
Keller nodded with a faint, almost predatory smile.
— Precisely. And you… you're different. You didn't break. You adapted. You evolved. Unlike the rest. Ninety percent of people, seeing me in this form, would've gone mad. And yet here you stand. Calm. Unshaken. Speaking to me as an equal. No fear. No pressure.
— I underestimated you, — I said evenly. — I thought you were a mediocrity. An empty shell. Perhaps a mafioso. A pawn. I was ready to kill you — and would've done so, had you been an ordinary mortal. But you turned out to be something I hadn't even considered as a possibility. A god.
Keller simply smirked and said:
— Good. You've learned your lesson. Now… let's get to the reason I brought you here.
— By the way, — I said, looking at him, — you still haven't explained what this place is. And what exactly are you going to show me here?
Keller looked at me calmly.
— Before I send you to my world, there's something I want you to see. Fly with me.
With those words, he rose into the air effortlessly. His wings spread wide, like those of a deity ascending to the heavens.
I stared at him in disbelief.
— Are you kidding me? I don't have wings, you know.
He simply smiled — that same irritatingly omniscient smile:
— Try imagining that you do. Just like mine.
At first, I nearly laughed. A mortal with wings? That's absurd.
Still, I focused. I visualized it. And — bam.
Wings unfolded behind my back. Magnificent. Majestic. Real. Wings worthy of an Emperor.
I rose into the air. Higher. Even higher. And to my surprise — I actually flew.
— What is this... How is it even possible? Where did these wings come from? — I asked, still not trusting my own eyes.
He didn't answer right away. He flew beside me, calm, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
— When I fatally pierced you with my hand... in that very moment, I embedded magical powers within you. From that second on, you ceased to be an ordinary human.
— What are you saying?
— I never intended to kill you. My goal was different. Your death in that world was merely the key to transferring you to another — one far more interesting. And there, you might just amuse me.
— Amuse you?
— Precisely. For now, you're a valuable piece. A pawn with potential. I've already granted you several magical abilities... but more on that later. For now, come. There's something I want to show you.
I said nothing. Words had lost their meaning. I couldn't understand this... being. Perhaps he was no longer even human. One thing was clear: I was no match for him. Not in strength. Not in mind. Not in status.
Fate had assigned me a new role — that of a subordinate. A pawn on his chessboard.
We flew. And to my astonishment, we arrived... in my world.
A crowd of people. A city. And the place where we descended... a cemetery.
And not just any cemetery. It was my grave. My funeral was taking place.
A woman stood by it, her gaze empty. There was something heartbreakingly familiar about her. And then it hit me — it was my mother.
Her eyes were hollow. Her face twisted in grief. And when I saw the tears running down her cheeks... something inside me twisted. Like a stone crushing my chest.
I remembered our last dinner together. Back then, she worried about me more than I did myself. She asked me to be careful. True maternal love... And now — we would never meet again.
But what tormented me most was this: why had he brought me here?
Dozens had gathered around my grave. Fans. Acquaintances. Strangers. Friends. I didn't know all of them. But they had come — for me.
My emotions were... mixed. Of course, it was flattering that even the plebeians came to pay tribute to my greatness. But seeing my mother… alive. Real. Broken. That was unbearable.
— Why did you bring me here? — I asked. — Why are you showing me my own funeral?
— Yes, you're dead... but look how many admired you. How many came to say farewell. You left a mark. Especially your mother. She truly loved you. In childhood, you weren't close, but that changed. She changed. And she changed you. Without her, you wouldn't have become who you are.
— How do you know all this? What, did you read my biography?
He smirked:
— You're mistaken. Gods have access to what mortals cannot see. We can perceive their past. I've seen your entire story, Angelo Nobel. And you know... it was genuinely interesting. Unique.
I wasn't angry anymore. I had simply... accepted it. What could I do? Protest? Fight? Laugh? It was meaningless. He overwhelmed me with his very presence. He, some minor god, was suppressing me — the Emperor.
We hovered in the sky, watching the funeral procession.
What surprised me most — even though it felt like I had spent an eternity in his dark domain… less than five days had passed since my death.
— Angelo Nobell, — he suddenly said, — do you want to say goodbye to your mother?
I froze. Something stirred within me. I asked instinctively:
— What did you say?
He replied calmly:
— I'm no tyrant. I won't deny you that farewell. And after that... you will become my pawn in the other world.
I looked at him. In that drop of hope that flared up inside me, there was pain. Pride. And the sense that this would be the last time.
— If you allow me to say goodbye to her... then I will accept my fate. Humbly. Though for me, as an Emperor, that is revolting.
— Very well, — he said. — We'll wait until evening. When she returns home. Then... we'll visit her.
I simply nodded silently at his suggestion. And when evening came, we flew straight to my mother's home. The entire way there, all I felt was regret and pain. Just imagining that I would never see her again made my world crumble into darkness.
Keller didn't say a word during the flight. Even with his insufferable personality, he understood that this was not the time for sarcasm or snide remarks. He saw the disappointment on my face. Perhaps, in some twisted way, he did have a conscience.
When we arrived, we landed on the balcony of my mother's apartment. The light was still on inside. We walked through the glass door and entered the room. The moment we stepped in, I realized—she couldn't see us.
Then Keller said: -- Now, I'll put on a little show for your mother. You wait here.
His words infuriated me. I didn't want her to suffer. I wanted to say something, but before I could open my mouth, he raised his hand—and instantly paralyzed me. I couldn't move, couldn't speak. I stood there like a silent statue.
My mother sat on the bed, her gaze hollow, completely crushed by grief. I struggled to break free of the paralysis, but I couldn't. Keller had full control of my body. To him, I was nothing more than a puppet without a will.
I was burning with rage. I could only hope that he wouldn't hurt her.
Then, in that moment, he revealed his divine form to her.
— Woman, why are you mourning? Did you lose something—or someone?
My mother was a religious woman. She believed in God. But she was so numb with sorrow that no emotion stirred in her. It was, after all, only the first day of my funeral.
She calmly asked:
— Who are you? What are you doing here? Are you... God? Have you come to take me as you did my son?
To my surprise, Keller answered without sarcasm, without the arrogance I had come to expect from him.
— No. I've simply come to give you the chance to say goodbye to your son.
Her expression barely changed.
— You must be joking. My son is dead. That's impossible.
— Of course it's possible.
With a snap of his fingers, my form became visible to her. My image—clear as day.
She jumped from the bed in shock and screamed:
— Angelo?! My son—is it really you?! You're alive?!
She rushed toward me, trying to embrace me—but couldn't. I was incorporeal. Just a spirit. Her hands passed right through me.
Seeing her like that filled me with nothing but sorrow, helplessness, and pain.
The first words I uttered were:
— Mom… I'm sorry. My pride—my arrogance—destroyed me. I won't tell you the details of my death, but I beg you… live. Find joy in life. That is my sincere wish.
She began her own monologue.
— How I regret, that our last meeting—at that restaurant—was our final goodbye. I had a bad feeling, Angelo. I was afraid. When you told me you were postponing our dinner after your championship victory, I felt a terrible dread. I prayed to God that it was just my imagination. But my soul trembled.
— I was never the ideal mother. In your childhood, I didn't understand you. I didn't try to. You had a hard life. But when I changed—when I stopped being selfish and started to truly listen to you—you began to shine. I remember when you first called me, so excited, saying you wanted to take up chess. I supported you. And for you, that was the first time you felt true encouragement.
— Over time, we came to understand each other. We became real mother and son. Watching you rise in the chess world, achieving greatness… my heart overflowed with pride. But your arrogance—your aloofness—always worried me. I always told you to be softer… and I regret that I never convinced you. Please forgive me.
Hearing her words, for the first time… I no longer felt like an Emperor. I felt like a child. A child who just wanted to cry.
— Mom, my dear mother… I don't blame you for anything. Everyone makes mistakes. We were no exception. I wasn't a perfect son either. I made many mistakes.
— But when you changed—when you began to truly understand me—that's when the best part of my life began. Every victory, every achievement— I dedicated them to you. What gave me joy was seeing the pride in your eyes.
— Life is what it is. My game is over, unfortunately. But you… Mom, you still have your own life to live. Play your own game. And please—be happy.
The moment I finished speaking, my body vanished from her sight. I had said everything I needed to say. I didn't want to see her cry anymore. It was the right time to part.
Keller approached me and said: -- Before you disappeared, she said to you: 'I love you very much, my son. I hope you make it to heaven. I truly love you.'
I replied: -- Thank you.
He raised an eyebrow.
— For what?
— For not telling her the truth. For only appearing in your divine form. For not breaking her faith… and for not destroying her. My mother was a woman of faith. I'm sure you saw her past, too. Thank you for sparing her.
He looked at me and said: -- So even the Emperor can show gratitude.
I muttered: -- Shut up.
Then he spoke with finality: -- No more delays. It's time.
In the next moment, he opened a magical portal.
— Now step through. Once you do, you'll be in another world.
I said nothing. I simply stepped forward, calm and resigned.
But just as I approached the portal, he added: -- Promise me one thing. That you won't use your divine powers—those wings, those abilities—unless you're truly pushed to the edge. Use them only in moments of crisis.
I turned my head slightly and said: -- We'll see.
And then… I stepped into the portal.