Chapter 35: The Subspace Chess Room

In the subspace, a seemingly arbitrary expanse of pure blackness stretched out, its dimensions unknowable. Suddenly, a checkerboard floor, reminiscent of a stereotypical chess room, materialized within this void.

A single white light dangled from the void above, casting a monotonous glow over a circular area below. On the checkerboard floor stood a brownish-red round table with four legs, neatly draped with a black velvet tablecloth. Upon it lay countless chess pieces of various sizes, meticulously arranged.

No one touched the pieces, yet they moved on their own, each following its own set of rules, shifting positions on the board. Every second, countless pieces vanished, and in the next, just as many appeared.

The room was silent until, in the blink of an eye, five figures were seated around the table.

One was a rotund figure, with yellow-green pus continuously oozing from its belly. Its chair was made of sturdy vines, half of which were vibrant and dripping with pus, while the other half was withered and dead.

Another figure sat on a constantly morphing crystal chair. Its form shifted from tentacles to bird beaks, emitting a constant blue glow. The chair itself was a kaleidoscope of shapes and colors, sometimes barely resembling a chair at all.

A third figure, radiating an angry red aura, sat on a chair made of countless skulls, plated in brass. A brutal-looking axe was embedded in the floor beside it. Blood spurted from between the skulls, and the figure, embodying both justice and brutality, constantly muttered words of rage.

Beside him was a figure with a serpentine form, shimmering with a strange purple light. Its chair was a masterpiece, engraved with intricate designs. The figure occasionally hummed, its tail tensing and relaxing at random intervals.

These four figures took up most of the table's space, their respective domains represented by green ooze, blue light, fresh blood, and a mysterious liquid. They slowly seeped onto the black velvet tablecloth, corrupting the chess pieces.

In stark contrast, the last figure occupied the smallest space. Dressed in a simple white robe, his muscular physique was evident beneath. He sat calmly on a modest golden chair, overshadowed by the other four.

Above the chessboard, twenty-one pieces stood taller than the rest, intricately carved and glowing. Most of these pieces were held by the seemingly insignificant player, causing the four deities to shake their heads in disapproval.

The game's stakes were clear: breaking the covenant would result in divine punishment. Yet, the game was unpredictable, and the climax was yet to come.

Near the intersection of death and decay, a finely carved chess piece, shaped like a figure holding a scythe, moved according to its own rules. Another piece, shaped like a rotting alien, was placed beside it, causing much amusement.

However, a tiny piece nearby suddenly grew in size. At first glance, it looked ordinary, but upon closer inspection, it had a small black dot, which was actually a minuscule hole leading to another vast space.

The gods were wary of these black pieces. They were rare and often confused with others. By unspoken agreement, these potentially world-threatening pieces were to be immediately destroyed.

As the game progressed, tensions rose between the gods, especially between the god of stagnation and the god of change. Amidst their quarrel, the human player calmly advanced his pieces.

Finally, he held both the scythe-bearing piece and the inconspicuous one. The gods reacted with a mix of outrage, amusement, and cunning, accusing each other of breaking their agreements.

The god of change slapped the table, rewriting the rules. The game's dynamics shifted, but the gods soon returned to their usual banter, seemingly unbothered by the recent events. The human player remained unperturbed.

From the shadows, the Fool, a loser from a previous game, handed two pieces to the human player. His twisted face showed resentment and anger. The human player merely smiled.

**Note:** The protagonist's name, Hades, is derived from Greek mythology, representing the god of the underworld, death, and suffering. He's often confused with the Grim Reaper. The subspace chess room doesn't exist; this chapter is fictional. The protagonist's name was randomly chosen, and any resemblance to its mythological meaning is purely coincidental.