Chess as some must say Is a symbol of intelligence and diplomacy in the bygone era Legend has it that a great war was averted when the king of a nation challenged the rival King to a game of chess. The outcome of this match would determine the fate of their realms.
With the world watching, the chessboard became a battlefield of minds, a proxy for diplomacy and conflict. Each move, laden with the weight of nations, played out on a marble battlefield. In the end, the two kings agreed to a draw, forging a historic peace treaty that endured for centuries.
In Earth, chess wasn't just a game—it was a binding force that demonstrated the power of intellect over violence. To this day, chess remains a cherished tradition, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, peace can be won through clever maneuvering and strategy,
To this very day, Airen Veria remained an avid spectator of online chess tournaments. However, one particular event caught his attention – a remarkable instance of a forced en passant.
The television commentators were abuzz, enthusiastically praising the player who had successfully executed this maneuver against their opponent. But what exactly is an en passant, you might wonder? Well, the term "en passant" finds its roots in the Italian phrase "in passing." Essentially, it occurs when a pawn advances two squares from its initial position, ending up next to an adversary's pawn. Now, in theory, the opponent should have the option to capture that advancing pawn, but in practice, things played out quite differently.
Curiously, no one seemed to exercise this supposed choice. In fact, in all the games that featured an en passant move, it was always a forced play, often leading to the demise of the player executing it. Even merely witnessing an en passant seemed to induce a sense of surrender in some cases. Airen was left pondering: "But why?"
Why didn't he simply choose to ignore and not capture the transient en passant? Many chess enthusiasts pondered this question over the years, and numerous articles were written about it. Yet, no one seemed willing to forgo the opportunity for an en passant capture. Even the reputedly strongest chess players, Nagmus Larlsen, known as "the snake," and Jaikaru Higamura, renowned as "the iron wall," underscored the importance of centering your opening strategy around the en passant.
In fact, they went to great lengths to emphasize its significance, creating various openings with names like the "kamado dragon variation" and even crafting a whimsical, troll-like opening called the "rising bongcloud of the passant." These unconventional approaches involved intricate piece maneuvers and the focused protection of that singular pawn in an effort to force an en passant capture. They fervently believed that making en passant captures was the flashier, more hyped way to secure victories in chess games, a conviction that persisted to this very day.
As a freshman in high school, Airen found himself embarking on a new adventure by joining the school's chess team. Chess had always been a fascination for him. He'd spent countless hours watching intense matches and engaging in online chess battles via a platform called chessbattles.com. While he wouldn't call himself a chess prodigy, he had achieved a respectable Elo rating of 687, quite the feat for someone who was just beginning to grasp the basics.
Airen had an unconventional approach to the game. He was a staunch advocate of "The London," an opening that some in the chess world dismissed as "brainlacking" and "penniless." This label never deterred Airen. In fact, he often found himself in heated online debates, asking the very question that burned in his mind: "Why memorize countless openings and theories when I can rattle my opponents by building a bizarre chess pyramid?"
The London system [https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/861993783902339072/1164277974951002202/393857314_1005669003997687_2331013027539574780_n.jpg?ex=6542a15c&is=65302c5c&hm=8d6d26965aadf05c298c262e1da2a11f26bf536fd663f3e6049d3b0d411e065a&]
Critics and naysayers didn't faze him. Airen was unwavering in his belief that "The London" was a solid and, most importantly, unpredictable opening. He didn't mind the occasional trash talk; he was confident in his unorthodox strategy.
All was well until the day of the school's intramural chess tournament. Airen was about to put his unorthodox approach to the ultimate test.
"I made it all the way to the finals," Airen exclaimed with a sense of achievement, though not without some jeers and disparagement directed his way. His unique opening had garnered him boos and disapproval from fellow chess enthusiasts, and his very existence had seemingly been trashed by those critical of his strategy.
But Airen remained unfazed. He shrugged off the criticism, his perspective firmly rooted in the belief that he wasn't aiming for a professional chess career. "I'm here to have fun," he reminded himself. To his surprise, he had managed to defeat players with Elo ratings ranging from 800 to 1350 at his school, all while sticking to his unconventional pyramid strategy.
Even as the finals loomed, with plans to broadcast the event live, Airen had no intentions of altering his opening. His school was known for its popular intramural events, attracting talent from various sports and students admired for their beauty. Airen himself was no exception to this phenomenon, blessed with above-average looks. Yet, the uniqueness of his chess opening, coupled with a somewhat prickly personality, had prevented him from garnering a substantial following among his peers.
His cousin, Cheil, couldn't help but express her concerns. "Are you sure, Airen? Do you really want to use that opening? It's not too late to preserve your pride. Once people see it, they'll mock you, and your name might even end up online. To top it off, we have 25 thousand live viewers. You must give this some serious thought, Airen!"
Airen listened to his cousin's fretful advice but remained resolute. "It's okay, Cheil. I'm not bothered by all of that. What matters most is winning."
"And don't forget the prize money," Airen added. "Can you believe they're giving out 10 thousand dollars just for winning a school intramural event? Well, considering the live streams with a substantial international following, it's not so surprising. Fans from abroad often donate to the school during events like this."
Cheil, who had been fidgeting with worry, suddenly let out a scream of frustration and kicked a book. "You're impossible! I don't care anymore. Go ahead with your silly London opening."
Leaving in a huff after that outburst, Airen sighed. "Guess I'll have to treat that little one to some ice cream later." Cheil's concerns were evident, especially after seeing the relentless comments online, where it seemed like a battleground with remarks like:
"How can he be so shameless to use that opening?"
"People are still using that infamous and brainlacking opening? No wonder the youth of today seems to have made little progress in their intellectual pursuits."
The pressure was building, but Airen was determined to stick with his unique strategy, no matter what the world might say.
Lost in thought, Airen was summoned to the stage. A voice initially filled with seriousness abruptly shifted into a barrage of insults and sarcasm. On the sidelines, a man with a sinister grin, sporting a gleaming bald head, couldn't contain his sadistic laughter.
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"Alright, Airen, it's your turn. When you're up there, let's see if you can exhibit some sportsmanship, even while using that so-called 'brainlacking' opening. It might just reveal a glimmer of humanity in your tiny brain," the man taunted.
The man who beckoned Airen was, in no uncertain terms, a rather unpleasant character and a member of the organizing team. Who would have imagined that Airen's choice of opening would invite such scorn?
With a resigned sigh, Airen shook his head and proceeded to make his way to the stage. As he approached, the crowd swelled to nearly 500 eager spectators, all assembled to witness the grand finals of the intramural chess competition at their school. His very presence seemed to heighten the tension in the air.
As he walked up to the stage, all it took was one spectator to break the dam. Boos and insults rained down. "BOOOOOO! The son of the devil! You've got no skill, brat! You don't belong on this stage! Get out!"
Oddly enough, these taunts only seemed to fuel Airen's ego further, pushing him to the brink of hubris. "I need to stay calm," he thought to himself, but he couldn't help the smirk that crept across his face. This, in turn, further enraged the crowd. In a moment of frustration, someone even hurled a water bottle at Airen, which grazed his shoulder. The sudden act of littering resulted in a stern voice booming from the speaker system.
"SILENCE! And you, stop that! If you still respect me as the principal, you should be aware that littering is strictly forbidden in this school."
A tense hush fell over the stadium as the voice ceased, leaving the atmosphere charged with suspense. Finally, Airen settled at the chess table, his eyes fixed on the exquisitely carved chess pieces. "Just by looking at them, you can tell they're freshly made, and the wood still has that woody quality," he chuckled to himself. He couldn't help but nod to his own amusement, a touch of madness in his laughter.
The soft murmur of the crowd filled Airen's ears, with comments like:
"Look at him; I think that opening messed with his head."
"Why don't we confront him outside and see if he's still got one?"
"They're already making a fuss. Airen, who was patiently waiting, noticed his name on the scoreboard. Beside it, the number 687 caught his eye. On the opposite side of the table, another name was inscribed: Laire Predidia, boasting an impressive rating of 1628.
"So, my opponent is a 1.6k Elo player, huh?" Airen contemplated. "Although it doesn't appear that he can outmatch me." He nodded to himself, almost resembling a madman, as the hushed whispers resumed in the background.
Airen, while waiting, finally laid eyes on his opponent—a tall, unassuming, bespectacled figure, reminiscent of someone who might step in to uphold justice after witnessing a homeless woman snatching a $1 loaf of bread at the market to feed her family of six. The thought elicited a chuckle from Airen.
As he approached the chessboard, Airen stood up and extended his hand for a handshake. His opponent, however, regarded his hand with a trace of disdain and adjusted his glasses before reluctantly accepting the handshake.
"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Laire," the opponent introduced himself.
"Uh, I'm Airen, and I specialize in the London," Airen responded. He noticed a flicker of reaction in Laire just at the mention of the London.
"I see," Laire replied, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
Airen had deliberately revealed his opening strategy to Laire, a tactical move intended to plant a seed of doubt and make his opponent overthink his responses. The London opening was unconventional and often scorned, rarely played by anyone aside from Airen and a small, unapologetic community of London enthusiasts. These chess aficionados crafted various London variations in their free time, aimed at intensifying the audacious nature of the opening. However, their research had yet to yield any substantial improvements, even with the creation of ten variations. In the end, the original London opening retained its status and was deeply respected within their circle. With only a handful of London users at high Elo levels, the knowledge of effective counters remained largely undiscovered. Airen was well aware of this, giving him an advantage against his high-Elo opponent.
"Before we commence, I'd like to emphasize the importance of a fair game. If someone loses, please show respect to your opponent, and I also request that the audience respect both players, regardless of the outcome. Now, let's begin."
With those words, they both took their seats and began arranging the chess pieces. The speaker's voice echoed once more, inquiring about their preferences for the coin toss.
Airen opted for the Back/Tail side, while Laire chose the front part. The coin was flipped, and a cinematic was displayed on the large screen beside them, featuring a figure preparing to release the coin. The tension built as everyone wondered where it would land. Eventually, it settled on Tails, granting Airen the privilege of choosing the color.
"White," Airen declared, prompting an immediate reaction from the crowd. Whispers and comments filled the air.
"The madman's going for the London."
"I hope Laire-sama can vanquish this unconventional opponent."
"Before we begin, I'd like to remind everyone to use the timer. As this is a championship match, we'll proceed with the standard 5-minute game. Alright, let's start!"
Game start [https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/861993783902339072/1164277573644210196/387415655_165793076606798_6801645399657609288_n.jpg?ex=6542a0fc&is=65302bfc&hm=38aff53a1502cf3f1898e4040bed5b6b058b8e0a4e1c5ebb119ffbd17527e35d&]
Airen wasted no time, making his first move with D4 and stopped the at 4:57. The crowd's reaction thrilled him, basking in the attention as they watched him in a mix of horror and admiration for his a shamelessness, a feeling of narcissism surging within him.
Laire, on the other hand, carefully considered his move and countered with D5, emphasizing his intention to assert dominance over the board's center, akin to a spawn of Batman.
As the game progressed swiftly with 36 moves played, a sense of urgency hung in the air. Airen's chess clock displayed 2 minutes and 48 seconds, while Laire's dwindled to just 1 minute and 24 seconds. Airen had boldly opened the match, establishing a commanding 16-point lead. Meanwhile, Laire, his mind working feverishly, seemed to be plotting a strategic move.
36 M [https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/861993783902339072/1164277708633669632/393958873_709285773957947_5114186906048047849_n.jpg?ex=6542a11c&is=65302c1c&hm=a7ff1809066af5e4fea784d7db7f601df26020a425283295963c540328751284&]
Airen, however, found himself trapped in a whirlwind of emotions. He sensed that something significant was unfolding, but an overwhelming wave of overconfidence left him with tunnel vision. He struggled to comprehend the intricacies of the board. Then, in a dramatic twist, Laire, after contemplating his move, made a swift, fateful pawn to G4. The action brought his chess clock to a mere 0:01, and in response, he erupted into an exuberant victory dance. The crowd roared with joy, as if Laire had already clinched the win.
THE FORCED EN PASSANT!! [https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/861993783902339072/1164277771795701773/393976580_3545770825696889_893015690710442999_n.jpg?ex=6542a12c&is=65302c2c&hm=ac18faf2286a5c78fe869f1f7487296f83b8161d6d9a998a22fb264a750998ed&]
Airen, eyes glued to the chessboard, felt an unexpected surge of anger. It was in that heated moment that he recognized the bold gambit Laire had executed—a forceful en passant capture! He vehemently rejected the unfolding reality. "NOOOO! I refuse to acknowledge this. But why? WHY? WHY?!" he exclaimed, his thoughts racing.
Yet, as desperation coursed through him, a daring notion took root. Airen was resolute: he could not bear to lose, and he was willing to defy conventional norms to secure victory. Ignoring Laire's jubilation, he made an audacious move, guiding his queen to seize Laire's black king. With a wry, triumphant smile, he extended his hand for a handshake. "I must admit, that was a brilliantly played game."
Take takes takes [https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/861993783902339072/1164279129034735656/368513387_342480764822382_5098349145170809353_n.jpg?ex=6542a26f&is=65302d6f&hm=a66bbfb3b220d4d218fbfbbba2ba38e3ec2a4dbfccc72c2978c2dcfda7b861b3&]
And in an instant, the world fell into a profound hush, only to be shattered by an anguished cry:
"HE FORSOOK THE EN PASSANT! NOOOOO! WE'RE ALL DOOMED!"
Chaos ensued as the crowd fled the stadium in a frenzy. Overhead, the once clear sky turned an ominous shade of gray, as the wailing sirens drew nearer. Then, an otherworldly fracture tore through reality, revealing a group of figures donned in uniforms resembling chess pieces, right down to pawn-like helmets and guns.
Airen, his complexion ashen, was engulfed in regret as he watched the surreal scene unfold. More vehicles descended upon the school, wreaking havoc as they closed in on him. Suddenly, his wrists were ensnared by chains that resembled interlocked pawns, and he felt his vitality wane. His gaze met the stern visage of the man responsible, distinguished by the knight's helmet signifying a higher rank.
"HOLD! YOU'RE UNDER ARREST FOR FORSAKING THE EN PASSANT. REMAIN SILENT AND COME WITH US."
Airen, finally comprehending the gravity of his actions, muttered, "Ah, now I understand why they warned against forsaking the en passant." With a sense of grim resignation, he submitted to his inevitable fate. As his world dimmed into unconsciousness, an enigmatic object struck his neck, casting a shroud of uncertainty over his destiny.
Author's Note: xD I'll prolly maybe 80% not continue this, I just let you people read it and not continue because Im a scum, nah I'm just joking maybe later? I'll see what I can do.