DEDICATION
To Dory,
creature of pure light, who crossed the portals with me unknowingly.
If this book ever reaches the invisible realms,
may it find your steps first.
EPIGRAPH
"The stone which the builders rejected has become the cornerstone."
— Psalm 118:22
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To my grandfather, whose absence still echoes with strength and love.
To my grandmother, who rises before dawn to bake bread with hands that have never feared the fire.
To my mother, who does the same, not only for bread, but for life.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PART I
PROLOGUES
Chapter One – Tap Agree to Continue
Chapter Two – Singing the Impossible Dream
Chapter Three – The Panic Room
Chapter Four – First Winner
Chapter Five – Rabbi Worse Devil
Chapter Six – Poopghene
Chapter Seven – The KING MatNat Sphere
Chapter Eight – Hollywood Sign
Chapter Nine – The Dior Vénus
Chapter Ten – The Columns of Boaz and Jachin
Chapter Eleven – 33
Chapter Twelve – Seven Years
Chapter Thirteen – The Barber
Chapter Fourteen – Special: Cochinillo Asado
Chapter Fifteen – Crown Eden
Chapter Sixteen – Witnesses
Chapter Seventeen – The Vulpes vulpes
Chapter Eighteen – Pre-Game
Chapter Nineteen – The Cell
Chapter Twenty – Confusion
Chapter Twenty-One – The Serial Killer
Chapter Twenty-Two – Hi Star! Xoxo Hannani
PART II
Chapter Twenty-Three – Spyder
Chapter Twenty-Four – Negative Hertz
Chapter Twenty-Five – The Mulafossur
Chapter Twenty-Six – The Orientation
Chapter Twenty-Seven – Two Babies
Chapter Twenty-Eight – Solomon Coliseum
Chapter Twenty-Nine – Nobodyelse
Chapter Thirty – KING MatNat | THE GAME | LEVEL ONE
Chapter Thirty-One – Paintball
Chapter Thirty-Two – Liar
Chapter Thirty-Three – Training
Chapter Thirty-Four – Kybalion
Chapter Thirty-Five – Giant Zombie Golem
Chapter Thirty-Six – Bolide
Chapter Thirty-Seven – Rhapsody
Chapter Thirty-Eight – The Fart
Chapter Thirty-Nine – GummyAir
Chapter Forty – The Stone of Sisyphus
Chapter Forty-One – Intruders
Chapter Forty-Two – Hamster and Cockatiel
Chapter Forty-Three – Sweet and Sour
Chapter Forty-Four – Step Thirty
Chapter Forty-Five – The Anagram
Chapter Forty-Six – Wheel of Samsara
Chapter Forty-Seven – For Myself
EPILOGUE
PROLOGUE I
On the monitor, a reporter wearing a violet tie, aboard a helicopter flying over the iconic Hollywood sign, announced with feverish enthusiasm what he called the biggest event of the century. His voice, raised to overpower the roar of the blades, carried a mixture of urgency and exhilaration.
"Hello, California… and hello to everyone watching us from anywhere in the world. We are live."
The reporter smiled into the camera with the confidence of someone announcing history. His impeccable suit gleamed under the lights, but it was his voice that drew attention. It was deep, measured, and steeped in mystery.
"Something is happening. Something grand. Something unique."
A brief pause, as if the air itself were holding the breath of the global audience.
"Have you ever heard of the THE-IMPERIUM bunker?"
The footage shifted. Rapid cuts showed the Hollywood sign overlaid with digital graphics. The reporter's voice continued:
"It’s far more than a typical bunker. It is the empire of the titans who rule the world."
Aerial images revealed Mount Lee, silent and monumental. An animated arrow pointed toward the mountain’s underground.
"Hidden beneath the iconic Hollywood sign, in the depths of Mount Lee, lies the enigmatic THE-IMPERIUM bunker. A place reserved for the few. Only those whose surnames echo through history have ever crossed its gates. Until now."
The reporter stared into the lens, steady.
"For the first time in ages, something unprecedented has been revealed. A stranger. An outsider. Someone 'ordinary' will have the chance to enter this restricted domain. But only one. And that person… could be you."
The screen now showed the Novaxtraai logo spinning in three dimensions.
" Novaxtraai, always at the forefront of innovation, has developed a revolutionary augmented reality system to select who will be granted this one-of-a-kind opportunity. A method that blends technology with destiny."
In bold capital letters, a question appeared on screen:
"HOW DOES IT WORK? Somewhere in California, two mysterious figures are waiting: an albino cat and an albino owl. Many may have already seen one of them… but that’s not enough. The passport to THE-IMPERIUM will only be unlocked when someone finds both in the same location. At the exact midpoint between them, a QR Code will appear. It will be a one-of-a-kind digital code. Whoever scans that QR Code will be the chosen one."
Another question flashed across the screen in pulsing letters:
"BUT HOW DO YOU DO THAT? Novaxtraai has developed an exclusive app capable of detecting these hidden figures in the real world. Download the Novaxtraai app to your phone. Head into the streets, the parks, the avenues, the alleyways. Your destiny might be hiding anywhere. Open your camera through the app and scan your surroundings. If you find an albino cat, keep searching. If you find an albino owl, do the same. But when the two appear together, be ready. At the exact center between them, the QR Code will emerge. The first to find it will gain access to the THE-IMPERIUM bunker."
The reporter gave a half-smile. He leaned slightly toward the camera.
"And here’s a warning: this is not a game. The code is non-transferable. Only the one who finds it will be able to use it. Only one will be chosen. There will be no second chance. The hunt has already begun."
With a firm gaze, the reporter raised his voice:
"So I ask you… Who will be the lucky one? Man or woman? Who will break the barrier between the ordinary and the untouchable? Who will be the first to set foot in THE-IMPERIUM without a powerful name or billions in gold bars stored in a vault? Who will dare to defy tradition and breach the gates of the most exclusive bunker on the planet?"
The camera closed in on his face. His voice, now almost a whisper, concluded:
"California, the die is cast. The question is… are you paying attention to what’s around you? Open your eyes. The future might be right beside you. Or perhaps… waiting on the screen of your phone. Good luck. Back to you in the studio."
PROLOGUE II
The Chancellor narrowed her eyes, leaned forward, raised her index finger, and gestured for Americ-Ana to come closer.
"What makes the THE-IMPERIUM bunker, and everyone who lives here, what they are... is..."
Americ-Ana held her breath, widened her eyes, and fixed her gaze on the Chancellor’s lips so as not to miss a single word.
"Pact."
"What?" Americ-Ana asked, her face twisting in confusion.
"Pact, honey. An agreement. A contract."
Americ-Ana felt her thoughts twist into a knot again.
"A contract with a company… like Novaxtraai?" Americ-Ana wondered aloud.
"No, honey. A pact with demons."
The knot that had formed in Americ-Ana’s mind now felt like a snowball rolling down a mountain, growing larger and heavier by the second.
"Madam Chancellor… are you telling me that demons actually exist? I thought when you spoke about demons on the Einstein-Rosen bus, you were using a figure of speech."
The Chancellor folded her hands atop the table and replied:
"Yes, honey. That’s exactly what I’m saying. Demons not only exist, they are the ones who offer teachings in technology, point to where gold nuggets the size of the State of California are buried, and reveal where to find oil in such abundance it could trigger a tsunami."
Americ-Ana began to feel as though that massive snowball in her mind was slowly starting to melt.
"I’ll explain something to you, honey, that will help clear your thoughts."
This time, it was Americ-Ana who folded her hands atop the table. Her ears, and her attention, were one hundred percent focused.
"Do you remember the announcement on the LED screen we saw a little while ago?"
"Yes, ma’am."
"Do you remember that Director Popess Rock mentioned the name of a game called KING MatNat?"
The image of the bald woman in monk’s robes immediately came to Americ-Ana’s mind. She nodded in confirmation.
"The KING MatNat games are the foundation of all human civilization, in every area: physical and spiritual, scientific and religious. Let me ask you something, honey. Have you ever read the Holy Bible?"
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
Americ-Ana hesitated. She looked up at the ceiling, scratched her head, glanced down at the table… until her memory returned. Then she answered yes, that she remembered a few stories.
"Well then. There was a king, around the year 966 B.C., named Solomon. King Solomon. The king of Israel. He was the son of the famous King David, the one who slew the giant. King David passed the throne to his son… King Solomon."
Americ-Ana couldn’t even blink, that’s how deep her concentration had become.
"Very well, honey… King Solomon, the one who ruled Israel, one day had an encounter with GOD Himself. And in that encounter, GOD asked him a question that could change anyone’s life: ‘If I could give you anything, what would you ask for?’"
"Money?" Americ-Ana guessed, eyes wide.
"No, honey. Wisdom. And that’s when GOD gave Solomon a gift. But it wasn’t gold, or a castle, or a magic-making machine. It was something far more powerful: a sphere. A sphere bearing the Seal of Heaven and the Abyss, capable of opening the gates between the visible and the invisible."
"And what did he do with that sphere?"
"He didn’t use it to fly, or to turn invisible… He used it to summon demons."
"De...—... demons?"
"Yes, demons. They are ancient intelligences who know everything about everything: mathematics, metals, stars, human emotions, energy, life and death, science, spirituality. Each one possesses a domain, like professors in different fields. King Solomon summoned 72 demons, one by one, as if founding a school with 72 teachers. He asked questions, and the demons were compelled to answer. He studied, took notes, understood… And with that, he built a kingdom no one ever managed to replicate. King Solomon is considered the richest and wisest king that ever was, is, and will be."
"And what happened to those 72 demons after King Solomon died?"
The Chancellor leaned back, looked up at the ceiling, then brought her eyes back to Americ-Ana with a more solemn expression:
"Some say the demons returned to where they came from. Others… that Solomon locked them inside a book. But the truth is, honey, they never really left. They simply began choosing who they would make a pact with. And that’s where KING MatNat comes in. That’s the name of the sacred game that allows a common human being to gain access to forbidden knowledge, in exchange for something that only they, and no one else, can offer. People here don’t have different brains to invent surreal things or turn dreams into reality, like unicorns and dragons. The people here just know how to ask for what they want from those who can truly grant it."
PROLOGUE III
Leaning against the door that led to the royal chamber, Americ-Ana, Wwwyye, and Astyam were nearly asleep when Poppandacorn drew everyone’s attention.
"Mommy! There are signs of suspicious movement inside the king’s chamber," said the plush robot, raising the security level to yellow.
They all looked at one another.
Wwwyye gestured for silence and slowly opened the door.
The girl tiptoed into the king’s chamber. She signaled for the others to follow.
Inside, the room was dim. The moon, at the height of its ascent, allowed just enough light to reveal the faint outlines of what was there. Everything was silent.
The darkness was dense, but not absolute. It receded slowly, as if time itself were asking permission to unveil what had been hidden.
A table, which seemed to be made of gold, with deep engravings and ancient inscriptions, held upon it two chalices and a pitcher, gleaming faintly.
Farther ahead, there were curtains made of dense fabric. Beside them, thick columns served both as structure and ornament.
At the center stood a wide bed with white sheets, raised upon three steps.
Upon the bed, the king slept in a deep slumber.
The absolute silence was broken only by the sound of the king’s breathing.
Wwwyye made a quick hand gesture, signaling for Americ-Ana, Astyam, and Poppandacorn to join her behind the curtain, in silence.
Three minutes passed, and everything seemed normal.
Then, at the foot of the king’s bed, a light began to take form.
At first, it appeared as an emanation, like the reflection of something that had not yet taken shape. Then, particles began to spin slowly, like golden dust, alive.
The light grew stronger, yet did not illuminate. It merely existed.
“Solomon…”
The voice emanated from within the light, tearing through the air.
At that very instant, the king awoke. His eyes opened wide, breath short and fast. He was frightened. He sat up quickly, bracing himself with both hands.
His eyes searched the darkness. The light remained, steady, pulsing.
He could not understand what it was, nor where the voice had come from.
Without looking, his hand found the turban adorned with precious stones. He picked it up in an unconscious gesture. Placed it on his head.
“Who is there?”
The king asked, still trying to decipher where the voice had come from, while his mind raced to comprehend what that light could be.
Then the light spoke again:
“Tonight, the heavens bend toward you. You are given an opportunity. Ask for whatever you desire. I shall grant it.”
The king remained still for a few moments. His breathing grew heavier and heavier.
Until he managed to calm himself.
He reflected for a moment, then spoke:
“Grant me wisdom.”
The light seemed to expand slightly. The atmosphere shifted.
“Because you asked for wisdom, and not the death of your enemies, nor riches, nor long life... I shall give you what no man has ever possessed.”
And then… it began.
Golden particles emerged around the core of the light, spinning in slow circles.
They began to orbit. To orbit and converge. To orbit and take form.
Something was being sculpted within the light itself.
Until a shape appeared. Delicate, yet weighty.
A sphere.
It turned gently. It did not fall. It did not waver. It simply floated.
It moved toward the king. Stopped before him.
He reached out his hands.
The sphere rested upon him with ease.
The light spoke:
"Through this sphere, the greatest riches of the heavens and the abyss shall be revealed to you. With it, you shall become the wealthiest man to ever exist in all the kingdoms of the earth. You shall also become the wisest among all who have ever walked beneath the firmament. Your name shall be eternalized through every generation, and all the kingdoms shall know your story. Through this sphere, you shall be granted dominion over light and darkness, over the skies and the shadows, over what is manifest and what remains hidden. And by it, you shall be elevated to a demigod, before whom all wealth and all kingdoms shall bow."
Then, the light vanished. No sound. No trace.
The royal chamber returned to darkness.
In the dimness, the king held the sphere, his breath heavy.
His eyes still fixed on the place where the light had been.
And then, Americ-Ana, Wwwyye, Astyam, and Poppandacorn, still in complete silence, hidden behind the curtain, felt a blinding flash swallow their vision entirely. In the blink of an eye, they were back aboard the Jump Kairos Trip.
PROLOGUE IV
"That woman is Director Popess Rock. She is from Organ The Strategist. She has been leading Equal One Zero Academy since 1913," answered Wwwyye.
"I read an article about the angel Reiyel, the one who is always by Director Popess Rock’s side. From what I know, they’re inseparable. Wherever she goes, he’s with her... but I have no idea why," said Astyam.
"My sisters told me that every demon has a corresponding angel. It’s as if a specific angel was created to contain the powers of a particular demon. It works like a scale. If a demon goes out of control, the corresponding angel acts to restore balance," explained Wwwyye.
"But where is the demon that corresponds to that angel?" asked Americ-Ana.
Wwwyye and Astyam looked at each other. Both of them, realizing Americ-Ana had noticed their reaction, looked away and lowered their heads.
"What was that? Did something happen? Was it something I said?" Americ-Ana asked.
Wwwyye and Astyam looked at each other again.
"Tell me what’s going on right now, or I’ll... or I’ll... or I’ll... hit both of you!" said Americ-Ana, her voice trembling.
Wwwyye held Americ-Ana’s left hand and said:
"My sisters told me that the demon corresponding to the angel Reiyel is Astaroth. Normally, angels and demons remain contained within seals, inside the KING MatNat sphere."
"But why is the angel Reiyel beside Director Popess Rock and not inside a KING MatNat sphere?" insisted Americ-Ana.
"It’s because, many years ago, there was a professor who was also a patron, named Rabbi Thane. He fell in love with the first scholarship student in the history of Equal One Zero. Her name was... was... gosh, I forgot," said Astyam.
"Helena Blavatsky. Her name was Helena Blavatsky. The love Rabbi Thane felt for his student was a forbidden love. So, unfortunately... rumor has it, gossip and whispers, that Rabbi Thane lost his mind because Helena didn’t return that forbidden love. Then the Rabbi made a pact with Astaroth, the demon that corresponds to the angel Reiyel," said Wwwyye. The girl stopped speaking abruptly and looked away again.
"What happened? Please, tell me," asked Americ-Ana.
"Well... like Wwwyye said, it’s all just rumor and gossip," said Astyam.
"But I want to know. Tell me!" insisted Americ-Ana.
"Okay. I’ll tell you." Wwwyye took a deep breath and continued. "The thing is, when Rabbi Thane made that pact with Astaroth, the demon took over the Rabbi’s body and soul... and killed Helena Blavatsky, as well as Director Popess Rock’s younger sister."
"But why was Director Popess Rock’s younger sister murdered? What did she have to do with any of this?" asked Americ-Ana.
"It turns out Rabbi Thane was engaged to Director Popess Rock’s younger sister," explained Astyam.
"But... if the angel, as you said, exists to balance a demon’s power, why couldn’t the angel Reiyel contain Rabbi Thane once he was possessed by Astaroth?" asked Americ-Ana.
"The thing is, Rabbi Thane’s uncontrollable passion and forbidden love, added to his thirst for revenge, gave Astaroth near-unlimited strength once he took over the Rabbi’s body. They say it was so overwhelming that the angel Reiyel couldn’t contain him. That’s how Rabbi Thane, possessed by Astaroth, managed to kill Director Popess Rock’s sister and Helena Blavatsky," said Wwwyye.
"What I find strange, according to some newspaper articles I read when I first got access to THE-IMPERIUM, is that only the body of Director Popess Rock’s sister was ever found. Helena Blavatsky’s body simply vanished," said Astyam.
"Do you think she might have escaped and lived for many years in hiding? That could be a possibility," observed Americ-Ana.
"Yes. That could have happened. Like my sisters said, there’s a lot of gossip, many rumors surrounding that event, and the truth ended up getting lost," said Wwwyye.
"But why is the angel Reiyel always with Director Popess Rock?" asked Americ-Ana.
"That’s the point. They say the angel Reiyel felt deeply guilty for not being able to contain his corresponding demon, Astaroth. They say he torments himself on a level no human being could ever comprehend. Ever since, he made a vow. Since he couldn’t stop Astaroth, who possessed the Rabbi and ended up killing Director Popess Rock’s sister, he vowed to protect Director Popess Rock for as long as she lives," concluded Wwwyye.
"Ever since the Rabbi was possessed by Astaroth and committed the murders, he has been called and known as 'Rabbi Worse Devil'," added Astyam.
PROLOGUE V
Smoke and dust had thickened the air, making it heavy for those left behind. The metallic scent of ignition still lingered, like an invisible echo.
It was then that Parys Bloodpure emerged from the crowd.
"Has anyone seen Nome-Rocky?" she asked, her voice devoid of concern.
A brief silence followed.
Some of the onlookers exchanged hesitant glances. No one answered right away. Not because they didn’t know... but because they knew exactly who Parys Bloodpure was. And they understood what that question carried.
Patron Darclyght, however, lifted his chin slightly and replied with calculated ease:
"He rode off with the scholarship girl. Took the bike, headed toward the cell where she’ll be living."
Parys blinked once. Only once. Her pearlescent white skin shifted subtly in hue, like an inverted aurora, passing through pink and reaching red. She said nothing. But her eyes, now fixed on the horizon, said more than enough.
At that moment, a voice broke through from within the crowd:
"Hey, everyone! There’s a Jump Chronos Station here that goes straight to the scholarship girl’s cell! Let’s see who gets there first: Nome-Rocky or Seth!"
Excitement swept through the group like a wave. The crowd began to scatter, laughing, betting, speculating.
Meanwhile, on the road…
The two motorcycles shot forward like arrows slicing through the landscape, as if the world around them were made only of wind and memory.
The artificial sky within the pyramid bore clouds that seemed unsure whether to rain or not. The leaves in the tree canopies swayed. It wasn’t a strong wind, but neither was it gentle.
The road twisted through long, undulating fields, bordered by an old wooden fence, still damp with dew that had yet to evaporate. Along the edges, tall oaks and a few pines stood in alternating rhythm, like sentinels of a forgotten sanctuary, casting patches of shadow that ran alongside the machines. Branches quivered, but none dared fall.
Everything felt... suspended.
Americ-Ana could feel the cold of the speed slicing through her skin, or rather, the skin that wasn’t hers. RONOVE’s skin clung to her body like a second flesh: a living serpent’s skin, scaly, sensitive, pulsing. It was as if every inch of that fabric were linked to the nerves of something watching her from within. With every curve in the road, the suit adjusted on its own, tightening, expanding, vibrating. It felt as though she was being worn by a being that also wore her from the inside.
When she touched Nome-Rocky's back for the first time, it was like plunging her fingers into a forbidden boundary between the human and the unnamable. RONOVE’s skin, which also covered his body, was warm, moist, almost feverish. It was like touching something both sacred and heretical at once.
Frightened. Terrified. Fascinated. Everything was fast. Far too fast. Americ-Ana’s breathing couldn’t keep up with the rhythm of the world. Her eyes were lost in the blurs of trees, sky, fences, and stones. Gravity felt altered. The speed was more than physical. It was metaphysical. It was as if time were folding over itself, and she were inside the fold, not knowing whether she would come out whole on the other side.
There, clinging to Nome-Rocky’s waist, Americ-Ana felt something she had never felt before: a mixture of dread and ecstasy. Her fingers, gloved in scaly skin, laced tightly around the boy’s abdomen, squeezing with all her strength. It wasn’t just fear of falling. It was fear of ceasing to exist. Because there was something in that body, in that matter between his belly and her hands, that made her forget who she was.
Americ-Ana could feel it. She could feel RONOVE’s skin... vibrating beneath Nome-Rocky’s. It was like touching the frequency of another world. As if a heart were beating from within the fabric itself, and that heart kept whispering, over and over: you belong to this now.
The wooden fence vanished. The trees withdrew, as if following a silent command. And then, flowers appeared. On both sides of the road, a vast and colorful field opened up, as though someone had torn through the green fabric of the world and revealed an embroidery of petals beneath it. Tulips, carnations, dahlias, and flowers that didn’t even seem earthly stretched as far as the eye could see. But nothing was clear. The speed was so great that everything turned into a hypnotic blur of vibrant color, as if the road were slicing through a moving impressionist painting.
Americ-Ana almost let herself be carried away by that beauty... until she heard the sound.
VRRROOOOOOMMMMMMMMMM.
A high-pitched, metallic, and guttural roar all at once. It was different from the scream of the MTT Y2K Turbine Superbike. This sound tore through the air with violence. It was like a thousand steel blades being sharpened at once inside a tunnel.
Americ-Ana turned her head to the right.
Seth and the DODGE TOMAHAWK.
Focused. Tense posture. Body fused to the machine. His eyes were locked on the road as if nothing else in the world existed. And he was overtaking. Slowly. Inch by inch.
Americ-Ana’s eyes widened. Behind Seth, or rather clinging to his waist, was Wwwyye. But there was no top hat. No pink hair. No trace of the electric, provocative girl. There was only a deformed figure, covered in the thick, scaly skin of FORNEUS. A living serpent made of muscle and wrath. Her arms seemed fused to the fabric. Her face, hidden beneath plates of scale.
Even so, Americ-Ana knew: it was her. And even motionless, Wwwyye seemed to carry within her chest a storm on the verge of exploding.
Then came the answer.
Nome-Rocky’s answer.
The MTT Y2K roared. Not like an engine. But like a mythological beast being awakened from a millennial slumber.
VRRRRRRRRRAAAAHHHHHH!
Americ-Ana screamed. Not because she was afraid. But because she felt everything. Every scale of the suit vibrated in unison. It was as if RONOVE were whispering from within her skin, hold tight. She wasn’t on the bike. She was the bike. She was the road. She was the demon. Every patch of asphalt, every gust of wind, every vibration of the engine, all of it pulsed within her.
For a few brief seconds, Americ-Ana was no longer Americ-Ana. She was RONOVE’s hatred. She was Nome-Rocky’s fury. She was the will to win, burning like fire inside the metal itself. And in that moment... she felt freedom. The wildest, most dangerous, most fleeting kind of freedom.
ACT ONE
The Binding Chamber was located in the silent lower vaults of the Library. The scent of plant resin mingled with aged leather, and the only sound filling the air was that of pages being pressed, stitched, and sealed. Dark wooden tables rested against walls lined with locked cabinets. At the center, an iron-forged press lay dormant. Wearing a thick linen apron with sleeves rolled up to the elbows stood the Fabricator. His eyes were dark, and his hands bore the stains of pigment and paper dust.
STUDENT entered.
I have come in search of THE CANTICLE OF THE SEVEN ACTS.
MASTER FABRICATOR
So you wish to touch the bound Word...
Tell me, why should I craft it for you?
STUDENT
Because I do not seek to read in order to understand,
but to understand in order to be worthy of reading.
MASTER FABRICATOR
Here, form is not given to what has not first been proven.
Before I consider your request, I propose a game.
STUDENT
What kind of game?
MASTER FABRICATOR
Chess.
STUDENT
I do not know how to play chess.
MASTER FABRICATOR
If you do not know the game of chess, then tell me:
what do you offer in return?
STUDENT
I do not know how to move pawns, but I know the game that governs all others.
A game older than the board, more ancient than kings and towers.
A game from which chess, dice, cards, and wars were born.
A game that determines the fate of angels and demons,
of thrones and rags, of heavens and abysses.
A game that governs even THE DEVIL… and GOD Himself.
MASTER FABRICATOR
Intriguing.
Tell me about this game.
