Yuu sat in a tall, broken tower in the middle of nowhere. The wind howled outside, blowing dust through the cracks in the walls. But he didn't care. In front of him floated a glowing screen—his system window—filled with maps, names, and red threads that connected them all.
He had spent years learning how the world worked behind the scenes. Kingdoms rose and fell not by chance or war, but by hidden rules and secret commands sent through the system. The people didn't know. The heroes didn't know. But Yuu did.
He reached out and touched one red thread on the map. It led to a small village in the north. A young girl there had just awakened a rare power. Soon, the so-called Hero of Light would arrive to save her from a fake monster attack. The villagers would cheer. The hero would grow stronger.
Yuu smiled slightly.
"This is your next step, isn't it?" he whispered. "Scripted and safe."
He watched as the event played out, exactly as expected. The monster appeared on schedule. The girl screamed. The hero arrived just in time. Another win. Another boost to his legend.
But what the hero didn't know was that Yuu had already tampered with the system behind the event. The girl had seen a different shadow before the hero arrived. A shadow with glowing purple eyes.
Yuu's eyes.
In a dark chamber beneath a mountain, Yuu stood alone, surrounded by glowing pillars. Each pillar showed an image of someone important—a king, a priestess, a general. He had touched all of their lives without them ever knowing. He had whispered in their dreams, planted doubt, changed their memories.
These were his pieces.
The world thought the Twelve Heroes were leading the fight against evil. But Yuu knew better. He had already begun to turn their paths. One hero now questioned his orders. Another had begun hearing voices. A third had vanished completely.
"I don't need to fight them," Yuu said. "They will fight themselves."
He walked past the pillars and into a deeper chamber where a large, black chessboard waited. But this board didn't have the usual pieces. Each one glowed with a symbol—a person, a place, a decision.
He placed a new piece on the board.
"The game continues."
Outside, the world kept moving, blind to the strings being pulled. Armies marched. Cities celebrated. Prophecies were repeated in temples.
And far above it all, the one they had cast out—the one they had forgotten—was rewriting their fate, one move at a time.
---