Shubhu stood at the edge of the chessboard, his mind spinning as the chamber once again faded into darkness. The ground beneath him shifted, and he found himself in the familiar loop of teleportation. For the third time, the game reset, dragging him into yet another battlefield, this time colder, harsher. He clenched his fists as the oppressive energy of the Dark King's dimension clawed at his very soul.
The pieces moved again, and Shubhu instinctively knew it was the work of the Rook—a manipulator of space. It wasn't just the pawns making their moves, it was the Rook controlling the very fabric of the dimension, trapping him in this endless loop. Before he could process more, a pulse of dark energy rippled through the air, and he was once again teleported.
This time, a new pawn had made its move, pulling Shubhu into a desolate, barren land. Shadows loomed everywhere, and from the depths of the blackened soil, monsters began to emerge—twisted creatures with jagged teeth, claws like blades, and eyes that gleamed with primal hunger. A thousand of them, all focused on one goal: devouring him.
Shubhu fought back, summoning the dark power that had already taken hold of him. His body moved with brutal efficiency, tearing through the monsters with ease, but each blow he landed, each surge of dark energy he unleashed, eroded his sanity. The monsters fell before him, one after another, until the third pawn crumbled into dust, signaling its defeat.
Breathing heavily, Shubhu stood among the carnage, his hands stained with the essence of darkness. But something was wrong—his mind felt frayed, as if he was slipping further into the abyss with each use of his power. The darkness was consuming him, stripping away his control, warping his thoughts.
Before he could recover, the fourth pawn moved. This time, the monsters that appeared were even more fearsome—towering beasts of shadow, their forms massive and grotesque, their roars echoing through the landscape like the wails of the damned.
Shubhu barely hesitated. He charged at them, the dark energy in him flaring like wildfire. He was no longer fighting like a man—he was fighting like a beast. With each strike, his mind grew more distant, lost in the sheer power he was wielding. The monsters fell, one after the other, their corpses littering the ground until the fourth pawn too was defeated.
But Shubhu had changed.
His body trembled, not from exhaustion but from the overwhelming surge of dark energy coursing through him. He had crossed a threshold, and now the darkness was in full control. His memories—his past, his friends, even his divine powers—were slipping away, replaced by the primal urge for destruction. His mind cracked under the strain, and from the deepest recesses of his consciousness, a seal broke.
A flood of memories—dark, ancient, and long forgotten—rushed into his mind.
Shubhu saw himself standing in a vast void, speaking to an unknown figure. "Just as day turns to night, just as the seasons shift from summer to winter, so too must light give way to darkness. Neither is evil, neither is wrong. We make them so with our perceptions. They are both part of the same cycle, intertwined, inevitable."
The words echoed in his head, over and over, and with them, a realization dawned. The dark and divine were not opposites, but two sides of the same coin, like the transition from dusk to dawn. Both forces coexisted, and both were necessary. It wasn't the power itself that was corrupt—it was how it was used.
With that understanding, Shubhu's eyes snapped open, and the darkness around him swelled. His body surged with newfound strength as he embraced the dark power fully. But this time, he was not lost in it. He was in control. The swirling energy around him began to coalesce, taking form as a powerful, godlike presence.
Shubhu had awakened his Dark God Form.
The next wave of opponents—Rooks, Knights, Bishops—charged at him, but they were no match for his newfound power. He tore through them effortlessly, his movements fluid and precise, the dark energy under his command now an extension of his very being. Each piece fell, shattered by the sheer force of his attacks.
The final Rook, Karan, stood at the far end of the board, watching with a mix of awe and fear. Shubhu strode toward him, dark flames flickering in his eyes, his voice steady but filled with an underlying menace.
"Where are my friends?" Shubhu demanded, his voice echoing across the chamber.
Karan hesitated, his once confident demeanor faltering. He could no longer hide behind the game. With a reluctant nod, he gestured toward a narrow passage at the far end of the chamber.
"This way," Karan muttered, leading Shubhu deeper into the heart of the dimension.
The further they descended, the darker it became. The oppressive energy grew thicker, but it no longer affected Shubhu. He moved with purpose, following Karan down the winding path until they reached the bottom—a vast, dungeon-like chamber.
There, behind iron bars, were his friends—Tara and Kavi—lying unconscious, their bodies bound in chains, their life forces flickering weakly. Shubhu rushed forward, his heart pounding in his chest. He knelt beside them, his hands reaching out, but before he could touch them, a dark barrier surged up between him and his friends.
The barrier pulsed with a familiar energy—an energy that sought to imprison him, to contain his power. But Shubhu was no longer the same man who had entered the dark dimension.
With a surge of dark power, Shubhu teleported again, leaving the dungeon behind. This time, he found himself in a vast, endless void, where the darkness was absolute, suffocating. No light, no sound. Just pure, unrelenting darkness.
But Shubhu was not afraid.
He stood tall in the void, his mind clear, his power flowing freely. The game was not over yet, and he knew that the Dark King was still watching, still waiting for him to falter.
But Shubhu was ready. Dark and divine, he had become something more—something that could never be broken.
The final confrontation was near.