"Before the final moment arrives, I still have enough time to make my move."
In front of the black throne, a hunched figure emerged from the shadows. It was a nondescript old man, but the moment he appeared, the black fog on the chessboard surged several levels faster.
Soon after, a lithe and slender figure appeared near the center. Her face was obscured, standing in confrontation with a man whose face was half-covered by a mask, with a pleasant smile, on the same line.
A decrepit dragon head protruded from the clouds, emitting a silent roar.
A bizarre lullaby drifted erratically, as rows of tombstones paved the ground.
On the other side, behind the Fraud dressed as a poet, a petite figure slowly raised a wand.
Beside the Clergy, light and shadow wove a beautiful silhouette.
A pair of pristine white wings opened slowly and resolutely behind the wings of the Guardian.
The chessboard gradually lost control, beginning to tremble incessantly—
