The letter M remained on the board.
Nobody spoke.
Alexei stared at it.
Elena stood beside him.
Anya had moved closer to Tal, whose expression had become unreadable.
The black pawn sat alone on the fifth square.
Then another letter appeared.
Slowly.
As if written by an invisible hand.
A
Alexei's breathing stopped.
Then—
R
Another.
K
The letters completed themselves.
MARKOV.
Elena looked at Tal.
"Who is Markov?"
Tal didn't answer.
Alexei turned toward him.
"Tal."
Nothing.
"Who is Markov?"
The magician finally looked up.
His eyes were distant.
Almost haunted.
"I haven't heard that name in decades."
Anya whispered,
"Neither have I."
Alexei stepped closer.
"Then tell us."
Tal closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, the confidence had disappeared.
"His name was Viktor Markov."
"Grandmaster?"
Tal nodded.
"Once."
"How strong?"
"Strong enough to frighten people."
Alexei frowned.
"Why have I never heard of him?"
Tal looked toward the board.
"Because he disappeared."
The room became silent.
Elena crossed her arms.
"People don't simply disappear from chess history."
"This one did."
"Why?"
Tal hesitated.
"Because he stopped playing chess."
Alexei looked confused.
"That's all?"
"No."
Tal's voice became quieter.
"He stopped playing because he believed chess wasn't a game."
Anya looked at him.
"What did he believe?"
Tal answered:
"That every position contains a possible future."
"And that a sufficiently powerful mind could see all of them."
Alexei looked at the black pawn.
"That's impossible."
Tal smiled sadly.
"So is everything you've experienced."
Alexei had no answer.
The next morning, the tournament hall was filled with noise.
Nobody knew that beneath the surface of the competition, something extraordinary had begun.
The standings were tightening.
Magnus remained first.
Elena followed.
Alexei was only a point behind.
Dmitri remained close.
Every game now carried enormous weight.
The organizers announced the pairings.
Alexei Volkov vs Rafael Ortega.
Elena looked at him.
"Ready?"
Alexei nodded.
"Yes."
But his mind was elsewhere.
Markov.
The fifth player.
The mysterious name.
The boards.
The prophecy.
Everything seemed connected.
Yet none of it made sense.
Rafael sat across from him.
He was smiling.
"Finally."
Alexei looked up.
"Finally what?"
"We get our game."
Rafael moved his first pawn.
"Everyone else has been avoiding me."
Alexei smiled.
"I don't avoid anyone."
"I know."
The clocks began.
The game exploded immediately.
Rafael sacrificed a pawn on move seven.
Alexei declined.
Rafael sacrificed another.
Alexei declined again.
The audience laughed.
The commentators were fascinated.
"Alexei has clearly changed his approach."
Rafael shook his head.
"You've become boring."
Alexei smiled.
"You keep giving me free pawns."
"They're not free."
"Then I'm waiting for the price."
Rafael laughed.
"Fair."
The position became incredibly complicated.
But this time Alexei didn't chase the brilliance.
He let Rafael attack.
He defended.
He waited.
Then, when the position finally demanded action...
he struck.
A simple tactical sequence.
No sacrifice.
No spectacle.
Just accuracy.
Rafael's attack collapsed.
Twenty moves later...
Rafael resigned.
Another victory for Alexei.
But there was something different about the win.
It felt natural.
Effortless.
The way chess had felt before he began trying to prove himself.
As Alexei stood, Rafael shook his hand.
"You know what?"
"What?"
"I preferred you when you were reckless."
Alexei laughed.
"So did everyone."
Rafael smiled.
"But this version..."
He paused.
"...is much more dangerous."
Elena won too.
Her game was almost clinical.
Another victory.
Still unbeaten.
She was now level with Magnus.
The tournament had become a three-way battle.
Magnus.
Elena.
Alexei.
And behind them...
Dmitri.
The final rounds were approaching.
That evening, Alexei and Elena returned to the hotel.
The ancient board waited.
But this time...
there was no fifth pawn.
The board looked ordinary.
Alexei almost felt relieved.
Then Elena noticed something.
"Alexei."
He turned.
She pointed beneath the board.
A small piece of paper had appeared.
Alexei unfolded it.
Only three words were written.
HE IS WATCHING.
Elena looked at him.
"Markov?"
Alexei nodded.
Then another line appeared.
NOT FROM HERE.
A cold silence filled the room.
"What does that mean?" Elena whispered.
Alexei didn't know.
Then the hotel lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
The board went completely dark.
A voice emerged from somewhere beyond the room.
Not Tal.
Not Anya.
A man's voice.
Old.
Calm.
Almost amused.
"Alexei Volkov."
Alexei froze.
The voice continued.
"I have been waiting for you."
Then silence.
Tal appeared instantly.
"Don't answer."
Alexei turned.
"Why?"
"Because he wants you to."
"Who is he?"
Tal's face hardened.
"Viktor Markov."
Alexei looked toward the darkness.
"Where is he?"
Tal hesitated.
"I don't know."
"Then how can he be talking to me?"
Tal looked at the board.
"Because he's not talking from a place."
Alexei frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Tal whispered:
"He's talking from a possibility."
Anya suddenly grabbed Elena's arm.
"Wait."
She pointed toward the board.
A new position was forming.
Pieces appeared one after another.
White king.
Black king.
Two queens.
Four rooks.
Knights.
Bishops.
Then...
two pawns.
Alexei recognized the position.
His face changed.
"This is my game."
Elena stared at him.
"Which one?"
"I haven't played it yet."
Tal's expression became grim.
"Exactly."
The position wasn't from the past.
It was from the future.
Alexei could see himself playing.
He could see Elena standing behind him.
He could see Magnus.
Dmitri.
Rafael.
All watching.
And across the board...
a player whose face remained hidden.
Markov.
Then the final message appeared.
ROUND TEN.
Alexei stepped backward.
"That's tomorrow."
Tal shook his head.
"No."
The magician pointed toward the board.
"That's not tomorrow."
The pieces suddenly rearranged themselves.
The date appeared.
THREE YEARS FROM NOW.
Alexei stared.
Elena's face went pale.
"Three years?"
Anya whispered:
"He isn't showing you the next game."
Tal finished the thought.
"He's showing you the game that matters."
The board went dark.
Alexei stood motionless.
The monk's voice returned to his memory.
Something great is walking toward you.
He had thought it was the tournament.
He had thought it was Magnus.
He had thought it was victory.
Now he understood.
The tournament was only the road.
Something much larger waited at the end of it.
Something three years away.
And somewhere beyond the limits of ordinary time...
Viktor Markov was watching.
Waiting for Alexei to make his first move.