image [https://urogyn.sakura.ne.jp/images/2024-10-09chess1.png]

1) PROLOGUE

Deep in the azure forest, a pale blue mist hung thick in the air, wrapping everything in a damp, otherworldly veil. Moss clung to ancient tree trunks, and silver moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting a magical glow over the scene. It was said that this forest had harbored secrets for as long as anyone could remember, with its creatures standing as silent guardians.

In a secluded corner, an owl perched without moving, as if keeping time itself in check. Its eyes, darker than the deepest night, glinted with a wisdom that came from ages past. The owl spoke softly to the small creatures gathered around.

"The time has come, my friends. Our master is returning to the chessboard."

A squirrel’s ears twitched at the owl’s words. It glanced nervously at a nearby long-eared owl.

"Really? But the forest has been quiet for so long..."

The long-eared owl spread its wings, speaking in a low, rumbling voice.

"Yes, the long slumber is ending. The chessboard will welcome its master once more."

The deer exchanged uneasy looks, their ears flicking in the mist.

"But... what kind of master will it be? We can’t possibly know..."

Their voices held a mix of anticipation and fear.

Right then, at the heart of the forest, a giant chessboard began to materialize behind a massive, moss-covered boulder. The ground shivered, and the trees groaned as black and white tiles took shape, bathed in the moon’s soft glow. It was as if a slumbering giant had woken up after centuries.

On the board stood grand pieces, each sculpted like a statue. At first glance, they seemed utterly still, but a strange aura surrounded them if you looked a little closer. With every gust of wind, pale blue mist swirled around the pieces, giving them an almost lifelike presence. These weren’t just chess pieces; they were vessels of the forest’s ancient power. Some animals claimed to have seen their eyes gleam now and then, though whether that was truth or illusion, no one could say.

The owl spoke again.

"When the master comes, we, too, must play our roles as the pieces demand."

As if in answer, animals began emerging from every corner of the forest. Squirrels, deer, rabbits, and foxes gathered, forming a ring around the chessboard.

Then, the whole forest seemed to stir, and the mist thickened, slowly curling around the creatures. As it wrapped around their bodies, their forms began to change. A squirrel faded into a dark shadow, transforming bit by bit into a chess pawn. A fox blinked in confusion, but the mist soon swallowed it up, leaving behind a white pawn.

The long-eared owl watched, murmuring softly to itself.

"And now, we become part of the board. We await our master."

Once more, the owl spoke.

"But remember, leave seven spaces for the humans!"

The mist swirled around a deer, and its body shifted into the shape of a radiant knight, standing tall and proud. A rabbit, caught in the pale fog, transformed into a bishop. One by one, the forest's creatures changed, the scene unfolding like some ancient, secret ritual.

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Gradually, the forest fell silent again. The mist melted back into the trees, leaving the chessboard fully formed, its black and white pieces standing in perfect formation. All that remained was the waiting—the quiet, tense anticipation of the battle to come.

image [https://urogyn.sakura.ne.jp/images/2024-10-09chess1.png]

2) AUTOGYRO

In the blue forest, Sophia Weiss sat outside an old garage, her white Chihuahua, Reinhart, nestled on her lap. She stared up at the sky, lost in thought. Her grandfather’s autogyro swayed in the breeze nearby, and the faint scent of oil drifted out from the open garage door.

"Grandpa, the sky’s beautiful today, too..." she murmured, almost to herself.

Her parents were doctors, always busy with work. Even so, they made sure to drop off and pick up Sophia from school. Her dad would take her in the mornings before heading to work, and her mom would pick her up after her early shift. Sophia didn’t mind the routine, really. But her heart felt most at ease in the garage, surrounded by machines and tools—and by the memories of her grandfather.

"Reinhart, how about we clean that hydraulic gauge again today?" she said, scratching the dog’s tiny head.

Reinhart gave a happy hop and stayed close to Sophia’s feet as she moved toward the garage.

Her grandfather had been an engineer, once involved in aircraft design and spatial fluid dynamics research. The garage was packed with maintenance gear for the autogyro he’d left behind. Among all the equipment, Sophia's favorite was the old hydraulic gauge. Its needle swaying behind the glass made it seem almost alive, like it could speak in her grandfather’s voice.

"This gauge is key to adjusting the hydraulic pressure. Without it working, you can’t take off," he used to say, the memory as clear as day.

Sophia carefully picked up the gauge and began to polish it with a soft cloth.

"I’ve got to take good care of everything Grandpa left behind," she whispered to herself.

Every day, Sophia came here to the garage, tending to the equipment as if she were guarding her grandfather's memories. Reinhart watched her, nose twitching with curiosity.

Her eyes wandered to the autogyro, standing tall with its wooden frame and metal fittings gleaming softly in the light. It seemed almost alive, like it held a piece of her grandfather’s soul.

"Okay, Reinhart," Sophia said, turning back to her dog. "Let’s check the engine today, shall we?"

She walked over to the autogyro and inspected the hydraulic gauge attached to its side. She’d done this countless times since she was little. The needle sat at zero, still and silent.

"This here’s the hydraulic gauge. When the engine starts, the needle goes up. If it doesn’t work, we can’t fly," she explained, more to herself than to Reinhart.

The dog perked up his ears, watching her every move.

Sophia grabbed an oil can from the back of the garage and checked the aircraft's oil tank. This was all part of the routine she’d learned with her grandfather.

"Oil level looks good. Alright, let’s start the engine," she said, gripping the starter handle. She took a deep breath, then pulled it in one swift motion.

The autogyro’s engine roared to life, filling the garage with its deep, rumbling vibration.

"...It started!" Sophia’s eyes lit up, a broad smile spreading across her face. The sound, the feel of the engine's pulse—it was like her grandfather was right there beside her.

She watched as the needle on the hydraulic gauge slowly climbed into the proper range. "Pressure’s looking good!" she muttered, nodding in satisfaction. But she squinted slightly, remembering the old rule: cool down the oil circulation with a wet rag.

She reached for a damp rag she’d prepared and wrapped it around the gauge's pipe.

"Grandpa always said to cool it down a bit, or it’d overheat," she murmured, patting Reinhart’s head as he jumped onto her lap.

"The engine sound really is something, isn’t it? Grandpa cherished this sound," she said, as if Reinhart could understand. The little dog wiggled as if in agreement, moving to the rhythm of the engine.

Just then, out of the corner of her eye, Sophia noticed a strange fog rolling in outside the garage. A pale blue mist creeping out from the depths of the forest.

"...What’s that fog?" A shiver ran through her, part curiosity, part anxiety.

The engine's low hum filled the garage, and the needle on the hydraulic gauge swayed gently, like something was about to happen. Hugging Reinhart close, Sophia gazed out into the forest. Deep within the blue depths, something seemed to stir.

"Reinhart, I have a feeling today’s going to be... different."