Having parted with his mother, Angelo stepped out of "The Full Moon". Three hours still remained before the match. The city roared with noise, yet he longed for silence. He walked along the shore of Lake Zurich, breathing in the crisp air. The water shimmered like silver, reflecting the sky. Everything around him seemed to slow down — as though the world itself was preparing for the decisive day.
On a nearby bench sat a man in a black hat and a formal suit. Angelo was about to walk past, when the stranger spoke in a low, commanding voice:
"Stop."
Angelo froze instinctively and turned his head.
"Sit down," the man continued calmly. "Admire the lake with me."
Suspicion stirred in Angelo.
"And why should I?" he asked coldly.
"Because I know you," the stranger replied. "You remind me of myself… in my youth."
Angelo smirked, stepping closer.
"Are you saying I resemble some pitiful old man?"
The man gave no answer. Instead, he slowly removed his hat.
Angelo's eyes widened. His breath caught.
"Impossible…" he whispered.
Before him sat Robert James Fischer.
For a few seconds Angelo could not move. Then fury erupted — he seized Fischer by the collar.
"Why?! Why did you abandon chess?!"
Fischer gazed at him with a long, unfathomable look.
"I…" he began, but the words faltered.
Angelo's voice shook with rage.
"I worshiped you! You were my idol! I followed your path! And you… you betrayed everything! You left the crown without a fight — like a coward!"
Fischer's lips curved into a bitter, almost mocking smile.
"Before the match, I made a wager," he said flatly. "I lost. And by agreement, I was bound to leave chess forever."
Angelo recoiled, stunned.
"A wager?! Are you serious?! You were a symbol — a genius! And it all ended in something so low?"
Fischer lowered his eyes to the water.
"Arrogance destroyed me. Pride destroyed me."
Silence stretched. Only the wind stirred the surface of the lake.
"Who?" Angelo demanded suddenly. "Who was the cause? Who forced you to fall?"
Fischer slowly rose to his feet. He took a step away, as if to leave, but then turned back.
"Gert Keller."
Angelo froze. His heart pounded.
"Keller?" the words barely escaped his lips. "That mediocrity… You're telling me he destroyed you?"
A weary smirk flickered across Fischer's face.
"Not him. I destroyed myself. But he was the stone on which my pride stumbled."
He turned to go, and with one last glance over his shoulder, spoke:
"Don't repeat my mistake. Don't let arrogance become your grave."
Without waiting for a reply, he disappeared into the crowd.
Angelo remained seated, fists clenched, hands trembling. His chest burned with fire.
Fischer had vanished like a shadow of the past — and before Angelo rose a new truth: the match with Keller was not just a duel. It was a trial, a sentence. An ordeal he had to overcome, lest he too fall as his idol once did.