When I said goodbye to Keller… and stepped into the portal.
It sealed shut behind me— and instantly began pulling me somewhere.
Where? I had no idea.
There was no ground beneath my feet.
No light. No sound.
Only emptiness.
And motion—slow, heavy, suffocating.
As if the darkness itself was swallowing me alive.
I didn't know where I would end up.
And yet… what surprised me most
was how calm I felt.
No panic.
No fear.
No pain.
Just silence.
And cold, focused resolve.
I once looked down on him.
The man I'd considered a worthless plebeian.
I truly believed I could crush him—
like a god stepping on a turtle.
But he was a god.
A being of power beyond anything our world could comprehend.
He simply killed me.
After death, I thought it was over.
That I'd either find rest— or vanish into nothingness.
Be forgotten.
Wiped clean.
But no.
Keller had other plans.
He wouldn't let me disappear.
He chose to send my soul to another world.
To entertain him there.
How humiliating.
For me—the Emperor of the Board.
I may no longer have a body.
I may be nothing more than a drifting spirit.
But I'm still me.
At least he didn't take that away from me.
The portal keeps dragging me.
Strange vibrations begin to stir—
subtle at first, then growing stronger.
The air—if that's what this is—feels thicker.
Full.
For the first time, I sense it.
Magic.
It flows somewhere ahead, like a web of ghostly threads…
as if someone is summoning something.
But no one summoned me.
I feel no will.
No voice.
No spell with my name on it.
And yet— I know where this path leads.
I can feel it.
The portal is taking me, the Emperor,
right into the heart of that magic.
You want me to play your game, Keller?
You think I'll be your pawn?
You're wrong.
"I won't lose to you again."
"This world —your world— will become part of my chessboard."
As I got closer to the center of that magic — it appeared in front of me.
The same portal.
The one Keller opened before pulling me into this place.
I knew: once I step through it — I'll be there.
In another world.
Not a place to live…
but a game.
A game he wants me to play.
But how will it start?
What will happen when I take that step?
Will I wake up as the kid — weak, helpless,
forced to spend years crying and growing up?
That would be a pain. Pathetic. Disgusting.
Not for me.
I don't accept anyone else — only her — as my mother.
I really hope my body will recover.
That I won't lose any time, won't waste even a single day growing up again.
I'm not a student.
I'm not a slave to time.
When I go through this portal — I'll become myself again.
The same emperor of the chessboard they feared.
They hated.
The one no one could stop.
When I stepped through it... when I crossed that final line — something happened that I really didn't expect.
Luckily, I wasn't turned into the kid.
But sadly... I didn't get my body back either.
I was still just a spirit.
Without a body, without form — and, unfortunately, without power.
I found myself in an underground hall.
Dark. Heavy. Stone walls, stale air…
and only the torches on the walls threw flickering shadows onto the cold stone floor.
I was standing in the center of a magic circle.
Around me — thirty kids, all about seventeen years old.
Looked like regular high school students.
Huddled together, scared, confused.
Outside the circle — four people in black cloaks.
Mages. Or at least trying to look like mages.
Their poses, their hand signs, their whispers — all showed that they were the ones who summoned us.
And farther out — soldiers in heavy armor,
standing in a ring around the room.
They didn't look aggressive.
They were just watching. Waiting something.
And those schoolkids...
They started to panic.
Screaming. Noise. Tears.
"Where am I?! What's going on?!" —
one boy shouted.
"What is this place?!" — a girl cried out in fear.
"Anna, don't panic. I'm here with you," —
her friend said, holding her close.
"It's going to be okay. I promise."
"Thank you for being here, Alice…"
With you, I feel a little safer…
"How did I even get here?.." —
another one whispered, holding his head.
"Quiet! Calm down!" — someone tried to speak over the noise.
But their voice got lost in the chaos.
The group was losing control.
I smirked.
What kind of show is this?
What kind of joke?
And the funniest part — none of these pitiful plebeians could even sense me.
Maybe only gods can see what I am now.
Keller told me:
only use the wings and magic he gave me
in the most extreme situations.
But right now...
I have no body.
I'm not really part of this world yet.
I'm just... a ghost.
So... I'm not breaking the rules.
I summoned my divine white wings.
They lit up behind me and spread wide.
And in the next moment,
I rose into the air.
Watching all that chaos from the air was even more amusing.
"Hey! You freaks in cloaks! What the hell is this place?! Send me back!" — one of the students shouted, his voice full of aggression.
Typical.
"Peter, you need to calm down. Try to be at least a little polite," — said that same girl, Alice — the one who earlier tried to calm down her friend.
"Shut up! You don't get to tell me how to talk to them!" — he snapped back at her.
From his tone, his face, the way he stood —
he looked like a street punk.
Rude. Primitive. No self-control at all.
Not exactly the friendly type.
If I had to describe him… a dumb, hot-headed kid.
A plebeian. What else could he be?
Alice, realizing she wouldn't get through to Peter, simply stepped back and stayed quiet.
Well... smart girl.
I don't know much about her yet — but I can already say this: she's far more intelligent and composed than that girl journalist who tried to interview me shortly before my death.
But their appearance look very similar.They might even be connected in some way — or not, it doesn't really matter for me.
"Hey, Peter! Don't talk to Alice like that! Apologize! — one of the students suddenly shouted."
Ah… how noble. A prince on a white horse, rushing to protect his princess.
I smirked to myself.
But in his case, this wasn't bravery.
It was stupidity.
Peter was clearly taller, stronger, angrier —
in every way.
Next to him, the kid looked like an ant.
Courage like a bull... and about the same number of brain cells.
"What did you just say, you little brat?!" —
Peter snapped, stormed over, grabbed him by the collar — and punched him.
One hard hit — and the kid was already down on the stone floor.
A black eye forming under his skin.
Peter wasn't done.
But then Alice stepped in. She quickly moved forward and shouted:
"Don't! Please, stop, Peter!"
"This pathetic ant dared… dared to open his mouth at me?! I'll kill him!" — Peter roared like a wild beast.
I kept watching, curious.
Alice had courage, yes — but not the strength or influence to stop him.
And then… another voice cut through:
"Peter. That's enough."
Calm. Clear.
It was Thomas.
And — to my surprise — Peter stopped. Just… stopped.
"Alright, Thomas," — he muttered and backed off like a dog called away.
Interesting.
So this Thomas… he had authority.
Most of these kids naturally gathered around him — boys, girls — like a quiet circle around a leader.
The class favorite.
He had that aura… not loud or aggressive — but solid. Unshakable.
Not someone who demanded obedience.
Just someone people chose to follow.
And Peter…
Peter was nothing more than his leashed dog.
And Thomas — the one holding the chain.
"Forgive me for making you wait. Dear Heroes. Our saviors. The hope of this world."
— a woman's voice rang out.
It was strong. So powerful, that even in the middle of the noisy chaos, everyone heard it.
And then—silence.
Every head turned upward.
And they saw her — a woman slowly walking down the stairs.
But she was not an ordinary woman.
She was something more.
Perfection shaped into form.
Her skin was pure white — flawless, as if not made by nature but by something divine.
No shadows. No flaws.
Every feature was exact, smooth, perfect.
Her figure — slim, graceful.
Not weak, but light.
As if even gravity bowed before her.
And everyone — I'm sure — felt that in the moment.
Her white robes flowed around her
with a terrifying kind of elegance.
They didn't hide her beauty — they highlighted it.
No vulgarity.
Only purity.
Only the ideal.
Every curve of her body was made
to inspire awe — to silence the room with wordless wonder.
Her hair — silver with a soft violet shine —
fell down her back like silk,
gently floating in the air,
as if she moved through zero gravity.
And her eyes...
Violet. Sharp. Alive.
With pupils that seemed human… but not completely.
There was a depth in them — something no one could truly understand. But no one could look away.
Every person in that hall — boys and girls alike — must have thought the same thing:
She wasn't just beautiful.
She was beauty itself.
And then she spoke again:
"My name is Echiria."
"I am the revered goddess of the Empire
in whose land you now stand."