Dormitory's Rooftop, Morning
The sky above Bandung was unusually clear.
Which, to Asvara, meant one of two things:
First, someone was about to die.
And second, the universe was saving up clouds for something much worse.
He sat cross-legged on the rooftop ledge.
Sipping lemon milk tea like a monk who had seen too much.
With a disassembled Rubik's cube floating midair beside him slowly rearranging itself.
Riven stood nearby, tossing playing cards into the wind and watching them disappear mid-flight. "You ever gonna finish that cube?"
"I finish it every seventeen seconds," Asvara said flatly.
"It just restarts every time I finish it."
"That sounds like suffering."
"Welcome to immortality."
A soft chime broke the silence.
[AIRA—Boot Sequence: Subspace Access Protocol Initialized.]
Current Runtime: 9.4 Hours – Mana Consumption: 0.1%.
Project Deus ex Fraudus Compile Status: 11%.
AIRA's voice echoed through Asvara's earpiece, casual and just a little smug.
"Still stuck at 11%. Like your emotional growth."
"Did you just roast me using my own divine project?"
"Would you prefer I roast your chess rating instead? Because I have data."
Asvara sighed, sipping again. "What's the holdup?"
"Simple. Deus ex Fraudus is a metaphysical decryption attempt targeting layered truths inside retro-causal logic. And you named it like a third-rate visual novel."
Riven leaned over. "She's still sassy, huh?"
"Still thinks sarcasm is a valid language protocol."
"It is. I was trained as a high priestess and still learning from TikTok."
Enter Lyra Anandita, storming up the rooftop stairs with a stack of flyers and a face that screamed "organizer mode: activated."
"Good morning, strategic gremlins," she greeted.
"Good morning, reincarnated trauma," Asvara replied.
She ignored it. "As student council assistant and class 2-A's official chairperson, I hereby summon you all for a festival theme planning meeting."
Riven raised an eyebrow. "Festival? Isn't that just a glorified money pit for clubs?"
"Nope," Lyra said sweetly. "It's a mandatory glorified money pit. And each class must contribute something unique."
Kenji emerged from the stairwell just in time. "Did someone say unique?"
Asvara muttered, "I'm afraid."
Kenji plopped down dramatically beside them and placed a plastic bento box on the table.
"What if... we create a Battlefield Chess Café?"
The other three stared at him.
Lyra blinked. "That sounds illegal."
Riven folded his arms. "I'm listening."
Asvara tilted his head. "Go on."
Kenji, now holding a bamboo pointer (don't ask from where), stood on the bench like a prophet.
"Picture this, a café. Snacks, cake, drinks. All-you-can-eat. Free."
"...That's just bankruptcy," Lyra deadpanned.
"WAIT," Kenji raised a finger.
"Here's the twist. The food is free... but only if you can defeat the Final Boss in chess."
Riven grinned. "You mean Asvara?"
"Exactly. One table. One immortal tactician. One war board. Beat him, and your chocolate mochi is free."
Lyra massaged her temples. "And if they lose?"
"They pay only for 50k Rupiah as entrance fee. Or suffer eternal shame. Their choice."
Asvara chuckled, amused. "You're making me into a mini-boss level Dark Souls character."
"You are Dark Souls with trauma," Riven said.
Classroom 2-A, Later That Day.
The official class meeting began in chaos, as expected.
Lyra stood at the front, tapping the whiteboard. "Okay, listen up! We have an idea."
One brave student raised their hand. "Does it involve cosplay?"
Riven answered from the back, "Only if you consider despair is a costume."
Kenji projected a digital slideshow titled,
"How to Weaponize Chess for Sweets".
Slide 1: Final Boss Asvara in flaming font.
Slide 2: FREE ALL YOU CAN EAT SWEETS, IF YOU WIN
Slide 3: A pixel-art version of Asvara sitting on a throne of chess pieces.
"What happens if no one beats him?" someone asked.
"Then we make profit," Kenji replied.
Another student asked, "Wait... Asvara, are you actually good at chess?"
Asvara, already holding a bishop in one hand and a strawberry Pocky in the other, simply said:
"I once checkmated Alexander the Great using pebbles and goat cheese."
Class Rooftop, Post Meeting.
AIRA chimed in again, her voice dry.
"Congratulations. You've turned war into a dessert-based sport."
"Everything is war," Asvara replied, "even cake distribution."
"...Remind me why you're compiling a divine-level reality-bending protocol again?"
"Because chess is the visible layer. Deus ex Fraudus is the invisible one."
"And what do the layers do?", ask Riven.
Asvara looked up at the sky.
"They peel the truth out of time like a fruit. And then squeeze it until it bleeds."
Riven tossed a chess pawn at his head. "That's disturbing. Say more."
Bandung – Liberium International High School15:24 PM – School Festival
The schoolyard had transformed into a warzone of banners, booths, and bubble tea.
Balloons floated like diplomacy attempts in a war council.
Confetti rained like cosmic background noise.
Someone in Class 1-C was chasing a loose takoyaki ball across the field like it owed him rent.
And right at the center of this organized madness...
The Battlefield Chess Café.
People swarmed the booth like honeybees on discount nectar.
Decorated like an ancient war tent, draped velvet, minimalist flames from digital projectors, and a towering sign:
"Defeat the Final Boss. Eat for Free."
Final Boss: Asvara Regalia, Class 2-A
All-you-can-eat sweets — IF YOU WIN.
ENTRANCE TICKET ONLY 50K (INCLUDES FREE SMOOTHIES)
Inside the war tent, Asvara sat behind a marble chessboard, sipping strawberry milk tea from a glass that looked too royal for any high schooler.
His school uniform was neat, his tie slightly loosened and his eyes, half-lidded, bored.
He had already defeated:
A prodigy kid who claimed to be the next Magnus Carlsen.
A local streamer who went viral for crying mid-match.
A grandpa who said he was once trained by Kasparov (he was not).
And two AI chatbots embedded in smart glasses (they short-circuited after four moves).
Riven sat on the judge's seat, announcing each match like an esports caster bored of winning at life.
Kenji was the bouncer-slash-café mascot in full samurai getup.
Lyra manned the dessert table, slowly losing faith in humanity's understanding of "tactical thinking."
It was pure but elegant chaos.
The kind only Asvara could curate.
17:41 PM – The Crowd Grows
"BREAKING! Final Boss of Battlefield Café still undefeated after 48 matches!"
#AsvaraChessKing
#LiberiumFestival
#ImmortalMidbossVibes
They were trending.
A student with blue hair livestreamed the whole thing.
Commentators on social media began dissecting Asvara's playstyle.
TikToks with dramatic edits showed Asvara pushing pawns in slow motion with Latin music playing.
One viral comment said:
"Bro really playing 5D chess while sipping strawberry milk tea like Caesar sipping poison."
Even AIRA had joined the fun.
"If this were ancient Egypt, we'd build pyramids just to honor this smug tactician's pawn plays."
Then she arrived.
A woman stepped into the tent.
And everything went still.
She wasn't a student. Not a teacher.
Definitely not a PTA member.
She wore a black coat lined with crimson trim.
Heels that echoed like execution orders.
And her hair is the color of war, crimson blood, tied loosely as if she didn't care that half the world was staring at her.
Eyes like a storm that already knew the outcome.
"I wish to play," she said.
Even Riven blinked. "Okay... style points, 10/10."
Lyra froze. Kenji almost dropped a tray of matcha puffs.
Asvara looked up, a single eyebrow raised.
His gaze sharpened as he stood. "I see. An Anomaly."
The woman smiled. "One of the Unique Ones, yes. Codename: Ars Aurea."
"A clairvoyant," AIRA whispered into Asvara's earpiece.
"But not just that. She's also an Elementalist. Fire, Wind, and a pinch of lightning."
"Oh, good," Asvara said, standing and removing his jacket. "I was getting sleepy."
The Match Begins – 17:58 PM
Board reset. Pieces lined up.
The crowd held its breath.
The first move was hers.
E4 — the most classic.
Asvara responded with C5 — the Sicilian Defense.
"Sicilian?" she teased.
"Faster path to chaos," Asvara answered. "I'm allergic to symmetry."
"Latin, then?"
"Semper fi. Nihil sub sole novum." (Always faithful. Nothing new under the sun.)
And then...
The Queen's Gambit truly began.
First 15 Moves – War of the Minds
Flashes of elemental aura danced with each move.
Every time she moved a Knight, static jolted across the air.
Every time she advanced a Bishop, the candles in the tent flickered unnaturally.
And Asvara.
He didn't flinch.
He countered every flame with calm.
Every surge with serenity.
"Pawns are the soul of the game," he murmured.
"And souls burn," she countered, placing her Queen right in the heart of his board.
People gasped.
Kenji whispered, "She just sacrificed her Rook for positioning..."
Riven nodded. "She's not seeing the board. She's seeing ten boards ahead."
"Fiat lux," she whispered. (Let there be light.)
"Fiat strategia," Asvara answered. (Let there be strategy.)
Move 40 – The Board Burns
She had him cornered.
Her King stood tall.
Two Knights and a Queen flanked the last line.
Asvara?
One King. One solitary Pawn.
The audience was silent.
"Check," she whispered. "One more step, and I bury you."
Asvara stared at the board, moving his King.
Then she moving the knight.
And Asvara smiled.
"Et toi, Crimson?"
And with a flick of his fingers, the Pawn advanced.
One. Last. Step.
Pawn to E8 — Promotion.
Queen.
The board shifted.
She blinked while moving her Queen.
He moved again.
"Check."
Her Queen moved to intercept.
"Check again."
Her Knight blocked.
He advanced.
The wind howled through the tent.
"Checkmate."
The board froze.
Everyone stared.
Her Queen was trapped. Knights were isolated.
Her King... cornered by a promoted Pawn and Asvara's King.
The impossible had happened.
Asvara had won.
19:59 PM – Post-Match Silence
The woman sat back.
A rare, humbled smile on her face.
"I've played against prodigies," she said. "God-blooded tacticians. Memory clones of Roman emperors. But you..."
She stood.
"...you are terrifying."
Asvara stood as well. "Thank you. I moisturize."
She laughed.
And then leaned in. "I'll report this match to the others. The balance... shifts. Be ready, Regalia. The sentinel of Isorropia always watching us"
With that, she disappeared, literally, elemental ash and crimson smoke.
20:04 PM – Aftermath
People cheered.
Phones exploded with hashtags.
TikTok was on fire.
#CrimsonQueenVSFinalBossKing
#PawnMiracle
#The17YOTactician
Riven clapped slowly. "You had only two pieces left. That was disgusting."
Kenji: "Bro. You played like the ghost of Julius Caesar possessed Magnus Carlsen."
Lyra leaned on the table. "Did... did you actually plan all that?"
Asvara smiled, sipping his now-melted strawberry milk ice tea.
"Of course not."
The trio stared at him.
"I improvised."
Dorm Building – 23:49 PMRiven's Controlled Time Zone (a.k.a. "His Room")
If heaven and hell had a meeting room, it would probably look like this.
A minimalist black-and-blue theme room, ambient lighting set at "moody immortal".
A chessboard etched into the glass table, and exactly 27 clocks mounted on one wall all ticking in different time zones.
"Dude," Kenji said, balancing a mochi on top of a wooden dagger. "Why do you have a cuckoo clock from 18th-century Bavaria?"
Riven, sipping lukewarm tea while reclined in a bean bag shaped like an hourglass, replied deadpan: "Because the 17th-century one broke."
AIRA's voice came from a floating orb of light above the desk:
"Correction: base on your trace of time that left in last Sandstorm Timestream, it didn't break. You tried to sync it with your heartbeat and collapsed from arrhythmia."
"I call it art," Riven shrugged.
Meanwhile, Asvara was seated on the floor, legs folded casually, multitasking like an overclocked CPU.
In one hand, he held his phone, on-screen was a progress bar:
Project Deus ex Fraudus: 37% Compiled.
"Still slow," Asvara muttered. "At this rate, the universe will reboot before this finishes compiling."
"Gee, I wonder why," AIRA sassed.
"Maybe because someone gave it three billion threads to decode simultaneously and installed it on Riven's smart fridge as a joke."
"That fridge has taste," Riven mumbled. "It keeps time and my yakult cold."
Kenji leaned against the wall, sword sheathed and expression alert. "So, what's the verdict? Any clue who's messing with our reality parameters?"
Asvara's eyes narrowed. "No definitive trace from Isorropia's command chain. But something's... off. Like we're watching a stage play, and someone behind the curtain just rewrote the script."
BOOM.
The room flashed purple.
Wind whooshed inward, as if the air itself panicked.
And then—fwoosh
Something or someone appeared.
Directly above Riven's bed.
A woman.
Crimson hair, sleek coat, floating five inches above the mattress in fetal position like a cursed k-drama ending.
Riven blinked. "No."
She blinked back. "Yes."
THUMP.
Gravity remembered she existed. She landed with a soft bounce. And a dramatic hair flip.
AIRA blinked her interface light. "...well, based on my data in Subspace Archive. That was theatrical."
Kenji stepped forward. "Intruder—"
"Wait," Asvara raised a hand.
Calmly. Like he expected this.
The woman sat up, dusted herself off, and looked at Riven.
"I apologize for your mattress," she said in a crisp tone. "It is very... springy."
Riven, absolutely done: "That's my bed. My dignity sleeps there."
She stood, graceful like a phoenix.
"I'm Aurea Arsensia," she said, placing a hand on her chest.
"Codename: Ars Aurea. The Prophet of the Dying Flame. Elementalist and Clairvoyant Class. The Unique One."
Asvara tilted his head. "You could've just knocked."
"I tried. But your dorm has temporal warding. I had to hijack a clairvoyance ripple to anchor a reality blink."
Kenji blinked. "In English?"
AIRA translated:
"She time-hacked her way in using a magic backdoor because Riven's room is basically a VPN with legs."
Riven looked skyward. "Why always me…"
Aurea walked toward Asvara.
Her tone was calm, but urgent.
"I need to stay close to you. All of you."
The air shifted.
Asvara put down his phone. "Explain."
Aurea's voice lowered. "I had a vision. Not like the usual prophecy riddles. This was... urgent. The thread of fate I walk? It ends violently, unless I'm with the three of you."
Kenji leaned in, eyes narrowing. "You saw your own death?"
"No," she said. "I saw... oblivion. For all of us. Unless I stand on the same battlefield as the Regalia, the Hourglass, and the Linker."
AIRA materialized in a spark of gold. "I've already scanned her flux field. She's not lying. In fact... based on my analysis about her words before, her fate string is tangled directly with yours, Asvara."
Asvara raised an eyebrow. "Tangled?"
AIRA flickered. "As in... entangled, quantum-style. Your survival rate increases when she's around."
Riven held up a finger. "Pause. Clarify something. Are we talking fate... or feelings?"
Aurea deadpan: "Just fate. I'm too old for high school drama."
Asvara chuckled. "Good. We have enough of that already."
Deus ex Fraudus – Status: 37.2%, a single chime on Asvara's phone.
The group gathered around the glowing table.
Asvara projected a map of interconnected gates with pulsing red nodes.
AIRA explained:
"Since Minerva's disappearance, Isorropia's movements are accelerating. Five more Gates are stirring. One in Russia. Two in South America. One in Iceland. One... here. Again."
Kenji frowned. "Back in Bandung?"
"Residual energy," Aurea said. "From a failed fragment ritual. Someone from Isorropia is trying to reset a gate manually. Possibly a Bishop-class."
Riven rubbed his temples. "I just washed the blood off my hoodie."
Asvara leaned back, a glint in his eye. "This changes our strategy."
Aurea nodded. "It's why I came. If I align myself with your timeline... we might survive this chaos."
Kenji folded his arms. "So what now? You live with us?"
AIRA blinked. "She can't stay in this dorm. Too many wardings. My suggestion: assign her to Class 2-A and fake a transfer document. As a new chemistry teacher perhaps."
Asvara grinned. "Welcome to Liberium, Ms. Arsensia."
"So," Riven said, biting into a cold sandwich. "You're just gonna crash on my bed?"
Aurea, already using his blanket: "Technically, I arrived here dimensionally. You can have the floor."
Asvara sipped hot cocoa. "Can't believe she just reverse-isekai'd into your mattress."
Kenji snorted. "At least now we have clairvoyance on our side."
AIRA blinked with simulated sarcasm.
"You're all going to die fabulously. But at least with foresight."
Asvara smirked, staring out the window.
"A queen has entered the board... Let's see how the next move unfolds."
Meanwhile – Somewhere in Bandung corner
A massive chessboard floated in a galaxy of information.
A pawn moved.
Then a Knight.
Then a Queen.
A figure watched from above. Shadowed. Unnamed.
"They welcomed the Prophet. The game accelerates."
The Gate pulses again.