Chapter 71: Check and Mate

  Prota continued to read as she struggled to get up.

  [Doctor wants your soul. I don’t know what the consequences of losing your soul are, but you might not be able to [Reset]. It’s not worth the risk. Get out of here.]

  Prota silently crawled to her feet and tried to leave the room as quietly as she could. Doctor seemed to be preoccupied with John and somehow didn’t notice the small girl sneaking out. Despite the fact that John had told her to do so, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt.

  But why?

  Where was this guilt coming from?

  So, while she silently snuck out of the room, she couldn’t bring herself to go any further. She peeked out from behind the door, watching the scene go down.

  “What are you going to do now?” Doctor chuckled, clearly amused by the situation.

  “...cheat?” John shrugged, grabbing his queen from the side of the board.

  He placed it down in front of Doctor’s king.

  Checkmate.

  “You wish you could do that, don’t you? It would be convenient,” Doctor nodded, calmly removing John’s queen. “But unfortunately, you have no such ability. You cannot reach into thin air and pull a miracle out of nowhere. Such acts are illogical, boy.”

  “And being god isn’t?” John said, picking the queen up and putting it back defiantly.

  “If it is me who is god, then no, it is not.” Doctor put the queen back, a hint of irritation showing on his face.

  John looked at the board and rubbed his chin. Prota stared at him. Why was he doing this? Was it simply to buy more time? Somehow, Prota didn’t think so. His expression seemed to indicate that he really wanted to win this chess game.

  But why?

  “Give up,” Doctor said, shaking his head with a sigh. “Really. There is no point. There is no move you could possibly play that would let you win.”

  John smirked. “That’s what you think. You can’t tell me what to do.”

  “Really! I’ll show you. If you do that, then I’ll simply do this, and then no matter what you do, it’s checkmate. Any other foolish moves you wish to try?”

  John shook his head. “Yeah? How about this foolish move?”

  He moved his king directly in front of Doctor’s.

  “Here. I call it the king’s gambit.”

  “That… is not a legal move.”

  “Yeah? Says who?”

  A fire began to blaze in John’s eyes. From the shadows, Prota watched, completely absorbed.

  “Sure, you take my king. But then I'll take yours.”

  Positioned just behind John’s king was a pawn. It’d been the cause of checkmate before, but now that John’s king was in front of Doctor’s… well, what?

  “Hm… intriguing. You are suggesting mutually assured destruction.”

  “Sure.”

  “But that still accomplishes nothing. You cannot play after I take your king.”

  “That’s according to the rules of chess. But what if I don’t feel like playing chess? What if is the move I want to play? I won’t play anything else.”

  John looked up smugly.

  “So, what now? You gonna make me take my move back? Or do you play?”

  Doctor looked down at the board, running his fingers through his hair.

  “Fine. I’ll play your silly little game.”

  Doctor moved his king back. John pushed his king back to where it was.

  “...what is this?”

  “Well, now you move your king back, or I get out of checkmate.”

  “You are awfully obnoxious.”

  John grinned. “Good. That’s the point.”

  Doctor’s head shot up, glaring at John. “Really! That’s all you intend to do? Be obnoxious?”

  “Are you annoyed?”

  “You are like a fly, buzzing in my ear! Why would I not be? End this, now!”

  John swept the pieces off the board.

  “Sure. Stalemate. There we go. I win.”

  “You… win?”

  “You beat me in chess. Sure. Good job. You get a gold medal. But who cares? Sure, you won the game of chess. But I got what I wanted. And you failed to get what you want. So who’s the real winner here?”

  “You-”

  “Did you checkmate me? No. Did you get annoyed? Yes.”

  John threw his head back and laughed. Right, this wasn’t a foreign feeling to him. There’d been a time when he hadn’t been a [Writer]. He’d been forced to push through his losses, [Reset] over and over, fighting until he won because there was no other option. This was far from the most hopeless situation he’d been in.

  “Seriously. I thought you were supposed to be smart, dude. But you just break apart. Falling for rage bait? When we’re supposed to be smart? Sounds like you’re just a dumbass to me.”

  “I break apart?!”

  “Aren’t you doing that right now? Man, this is really bad rage bait, too. Are you sure you’re not just an idiot?”

  Prota’s eyes widened. Something came back to her. Something John had said, something that hadn’t seemed significant at the time.

  “I don’t give a fuck about any of that. Prota. Victory in chess is defined by capturing the king. Sure, maybe there’s a few comparisons. Stuff like sacrificing pawns? I do that all the time, both in chess and real life. But that’s not always the case. Real life, I mean. What if there’s no king to capture? Victory can be whatever you want it to be.”

  Victory. Right. She squeezed her eyes. Something was bothering her. She felt like she’d forgotten something. Something important.

  [Seriously, I’m using a lot of energy to do this. The more I message you, the later I’ll be able to meet you.]

  Prota’s eyes snapped open as the message came through her system. It was that… thing. Again. Who was this? What was this?

  [John. Didn’t you come for him? Why are you hanging back like a coward? John wants you to leave. What do you want?]

  “You think you’re doing this to protect me, right? But that’s not all you’re doing. Prota. Everything you’ve done, everything you’ve tried, it’s been for “me.” You did it because I asked you to do something.”

  That was right. She’d come here to save John. She couldn’t leave without him. Without thinking, she reached into her cloak and pulled out the pawn John had given her. Somehow, in her mind, it made sense.

  In their current situation, she was the queen, and he was the pawn. But what would happen if she were to sacrifice herself to save him? To push him forward, to keep him safe? John was, in the end, stronger than she was.

  Right. He hadn’t come in here to save her. She’d come in here to save him. And that was what she’d do, even if he told her not to. For once, there was a decision she’d rather make on her own.

  Doing what John wanted wasn’t the easier way out this time.

  [That’s better. Go.]

  ~~~

  “You’ve wasted my time more than enough,” Doctor growled, his tendrils flaring up. “I granted you this favour, and this is what you do?”

  “I got what I wanted,” John smirked. “That’s more than enough for me.”

  “That’s it. You live no longer. I wish I could torture you more, but apparently, that’s not possible, given how much trouble you are alive, so I’ll just kill you here and now.”

  John leaned back and closed his eyes. He was used to death. It was practically an old friend at this point. All he needed to do was wait for the attack to come.

  But it never did.

  “...what?” Doctor’s voice whispered.

  John slowly opened his eyes.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  In front of him was Prota, glaring at Doctor, staff in her hands. Her eyes were glowing brightly as a trio of Blossoms floated before her, chilling the air and coating the ground with frost. He didn’t understand. What was she doing here? Why? She needed to run.

  The panic began to set in again. That primal sense of fear. No. She needed to leave. Everything was falling apart. He couldn’t accomplish what he wanted. It was all over if she died here. Why? Why did she come back? He didn’t know what would happen if her soul disappeared. If Doctor got a hold of it. Would she [Reset]? Or would she be eternally trapped in this mad man’s hands?

  “Prota?!”

  “...John.”

  “What are you-”

  “I… am protecting John. This is what I want.”

  “Prota, get out! What are you-”

  “John,” Prota said quietly, but her soft voice was unusually firm. “This is what I choose.”

  “This is what you-”

  “You told me to choose,” Prota said, cutting him off and turning back to Doctor. “This is my choice.”

  Doctor looked at Prota in disbelief, then threw his head back and cackled.

  “You’d made it out! I hadn’t even noticed! And yet here you are, back of your own will! This could not be getting any better. Manaless boy. I must thank you. Really. I cannot believe things worked out like this.”

  He stepped toward Prota, but she didn’t shake. She continued to look up at him defiantly, her hands holding her staff tight. There was tension in her blank face, a determination that hadn’t been there before. The slightest bit of emotion was shining through.

  “Go,” she whispered.

  The Blossoms flew forward, but Doctor easily dodged them, slowly walking toward Prota.

  “Little girl. You have a very special talent, but it’s not enough. Oh, I wish I’d had you so much sooner. There’s so much about you that I need. Oh, how delicious…”

  Prota felt a shiver run down her spine. This man was truly disgusting. But that wasn’t going to stop her. She stared up right into his eyes as her hands moved, a Frozen Flame starting to form in her hands.

  “Do it! A last hurrah, little girl,” Doctor exclaimed, spreading his arms wide. “Hit me with everything you have!”

  Prota narrowed her eyes. He was mocking her. She would make him regret it.

  “Now!” she yelled, throwing the spell forward.

  Behind Doctor, the three Blossoms that had stopped exploded, knocking Doctor forward into Prota’s Frozen Flame. The spell pierced his stomach and exploded, sending him flying back into the wall. She didn’t let up and released everything she had. Spell after spell flew forward in an endless barrage, unrelenting and unending. Not a single shred of hesitation showed.

  There was nothing left but pure willpower. Nothing but a singular thought. There was no more hiding. No more running. Those eyes that hated her. Those eyes that tormented her. The people she was afraid to touch, to kill. No more. She would decide what she did. Save? Kill? That would be up to her.

  And right now, she was choosing to kill.

  Spell after spell flew forward, unrelenting, unhesitating. Every bit of knowledge, every minute of training, all dedicated to this one moment. An endless rain of magic with no end in sight. John had asked her to be his protector. So when she wanted to protect someone, that was what she would do.

  Doctor’s body began burning up, clothes and all.

  “Prota… what the-” John stopped speaking as something rose up from the flames.

  His lab coat was all burnt up, revealing what was underneath: a wriggling mess of tendrils, squirming and squishing into the form of a human body. Doctor’s “hands” were merely gloves, now burnt away. Only the head was real, but the hair had burnt away, leaving singes and a balding skull.

  “No more playing,” Doctor growled.

  A dozen tendrils shot forward, grabbing Prota by the arms and legs, lifting her and rendering her helpless. She tried forming a fireball, but resistance was quickly met with a slap to the face.

  “I’ll have fun tearing you apart. Peeling your skin from your flesh, cutting you open, piece by piece-”

  Doctor’s monologue was interrupted as John rushed forward, delivering a mighty blow to his chin. He’d always maintained that the best time to attack was during a monologue. He was right. It would’ve worked had he not just been an ordinary human.

  “...right. You first.”

  Doctor dropped Prota and turned to John. His body went limp, exhausted. Right, he wasn’t using [Infinity] right now, and over the past week and a bit, he’d been starved, beaten, and tied to a cross.

  [Prota. Run. Now. Both of us are going to die here. I appreciate you coming back, but it’s serious this time. You can’t afford to stay.]

  “I’ve had enough of you. Despite being the weakest, you’ve done the most to me. Even more than that Mystic fox. I wanted you to suffer, but now, I just want you gone.”

  Doctor’s tendrils rose, and John stared defiantly. He’d come back stronger. He’d never wanted to [Reset] more in his life. This bastard. This man thought he was above everyone else. He’d bring him down, tear him down from his fake throne and show him the reality that was, ironically enough, a fake world.

  “Die!” Doctor shrieked, sending all of his tendrils barreling toward John.

  He stared at them defiantly. [Determination] was active, but it was too late anyway. They got closer and closer, and he closed his eyes, waiting for the blow.

  It never came.

  John’s eyes slowly opened in confusion, unsure of what was going on. The sight that greeted him, though, might’ve been the worst one he’d ever seen.

  “P- Prota…?”

  Prota had somehow regained her strength and dashed forward, throwing her body between Doctor and John just in time. The column of tendrils pierced through her stomach, holding her up in the air as blood dripped down to the ground. A glowing orb hovered at the tip, a small thing the size of a marble.

  Prota’s soul.

  Just like Olivia, the blood began to pool as John stared at her body in pure shock. Sound around him deafened as he felt shivers running down his body, his heart pumping to keep up with the oxygen his terror-riddled body needed. Despite the flames all around him, his body went cold as if frozen solid.

  “I- I told you to run… Why? Why are you here?”

  Prota’s head weakly turned, and despite her lack of facial expression, satisfaction was written all over it.

  “Protect… John…” Prota wheezed, somehow conscious despite her soul being disconnected from her body, eyes flaming with one last burning passion. “I wanted to… protect… thank you.”

  With that, the light in her eyes went out.

  “...you,” Doctor growled, looking at John. “You messed everything up.”

  John wasn’t looking at Doctor, though, nor was he paying attention to him. He was staring Prota in the eyes. Her dead eyes. He felt a splash of blood splatter onto his face, and he slowly reached up to wipe it away. He looked down at his fingers, stained with blood.

  Prota’s blood.

  It shouldn’t have come to this.

  [Determination is strong.]

  [Infinity is now active.]

  Prota wasn’t here anymore. There was no need to hold back.

  “You’re real funny, aren’t you?” John mumbled, barking out a short laugh. “You think you’re a funny guy? You wanna make it hurt? You wanna make me feel the pain? Think it’s all a big joke, huh?”

  He continued to mutter incoherently like a drunk man stumbling down the sidewalk on a late night out. His eyes didn’t even seem to register the enemy in front of him.

  “The… her soul. Incredible. I got it. You. I’ll take my time with you,” Doctor growled. “I’ll tear you limb from limb until I hear your cries, take you apart, stitch you back together as I-”

  Doctor stopped as John took a step forward. He stopped looked around. Olivia, dead. Danjo’s body, limp on the floor, gauntlets still alive. Kit was slumped against the wall streaked with her blood. Fate was unconscious.

  Somehow, despite all this, the chessboard had been untouched.

  “...what’s this?”

  John reached down as a piece of wood rolled out from Prota’s cloak. It was red from her blood, but that didn’t stop him from recognizing it.

  “...she kept this?”

  John looked at the chessboard again. Cheating was one way to win. And, like he’d said, victory wasn’t determined by chess.

  But what if he wanted to win chess? Even in a lost position? What then?

  “Doctor,” he called out.

  Doctor was so confused that he hadn’t even attacked. He watched as John threw the pawn away, the sound of wood clattering ringing in the corner.

  “I lost.”

  John stood back up.

  “We’re playing chess, right? And I can’t cheat?”

  He walked over to the board and calmly reconstructed the position. Mate in one. It was unavoidable. Instead of just his eye lighting up, his whole body began to glow. He didn’t bother to say anything this time, but the system was there to let him know just how much power he was using.

  [Power: x1,000,000]

  A childish system, one clearly designed to overpower enemies. There was no thought required to use it. No balancing aspect to make it fair. John had complained about its lack of quality before.

  There was no complaining now.

  “I guess I can’t really blame [Authors] for using chess analogies. They’re not bad, I guess. Wanna talk about the meaning of sacrifice and life and stuff? Sure, I guess. But why? It’s boring.”

  He turned around, and his face was once more a perfect mask of neutrality, perfectly fitting his eyes. One might’ve assumed he was putting on airs, trying to seem calmer than he really was, but this was his original appearance. This was how he was when he no longer had the energy to care.

  It was chilling.

  Doctor expected him to be crying. Yelling. Tears streaming down his face, eyes red with anger, fists pounding, and yet there was none of that. His words were still flippant. Still mocking. For that reason, he couldn’t help but watch as John took a single step forward. Then another. Then another.

  There was nothing dramatic about it. His stride was regular and calm. There was no aura of power. No cracks underneath his feet, no pressure surrounding him. No wind. No thunder. No storm.

  “Alright. Theoretical scenario. We’re playing chess, me and you. It’s mate in one. What now?”

  Soon, he was standing right before the man behind this all.

  “I’m going to be honest with you. Chess is fun, but I was never into playing competitively or anything. So if you wanna put something on the line, I’ll play a different game.”

  His hand shot out, grabbing his enemy by the throat. Doctor struggled, trying to wriggle his way out, but was stunned to find he couldn’t escape this man’s grip. How? This was the manaless boy. The weakest one. The one he’d had tied to a cross, the one he’d had no concerns about.

  Why wasn’t his power activating?

  “I’m losing, yeah? I can’t win? What if- what if I just kill you? What if I take out a gun and shoot you in the head, huh?!” He laughed hysterically, his mind breaking under the stress of everything. Under the absurdity of the situation. “King for life? Is that an even trade? Is it?!”

  At this point, John wasn’t even talking to Doctor. His head tilted back as he continued to laugh. It was the laugh of someone who’d lost all reason, all hope and had given in to insanity instead. A laugh filled with nothing. He was right. This [Story] was never meant to be a happy one. But that was ok. He had the perfect target to take everything out on. He didn’t even notice as the marble known as Prota’s soul fell to the floor with a clatter, its glow fading away.

  “Yeah, yeah, let’s play a game of chess. Let’s play! No rules held! There’s no analogy to be had when I’m fucking bashing your face in with my fist, is there?! Then it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to fucking kill you. I’m going to kill you, and then I’m going to cheat, and you won’t be around to stop me!”

  John lifted Doctor and threw him into the air, then leapt up and kicked him like a ball, sending Doctor crashing through the ceiling, tunnelling through dozens of metric tons of dirt, and into the night air. The monster's silhouette was outlined in the moon's light, tendrils flailing. John looked up and clenched his fists, power surging through his body. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t use it for anything that mattered.

  He just wanted this one last thing.

  “Checkmate.”