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

81) THE DESCENT INTO THE ANCIENT RUINS

Bohn and Luna, breathing heavily but focused, charged toward their respective targets. The mist around them thickened, obscuring their view as they approached the ruins. At 5 o’clock, two structures loomed ahead—one resembling Su Nuraxi di Barumini and the other a ring-shaped ruin that stood tall amidst the shifting fog.

Luna glanced at Bohn, silently communicating her trust. Despite the growing tension, they knew they could do this together. They had no choice.

As they neared the first ruin, Bohn’s mind raced. Su Nuraxi di Barumini—Alex had called it that, but now, seeing it up close, it reminded Bohn of the Azores pyramids, particularly the ones near the coast. The parallel ruts in the ground, remnants of ancient wheel tracks, deepened his suspicion. The pyramids in the Azores were connected to trade routes, and these ruts told a story of goods and offerings being transported from sea to temple long ago.

“The anchor stones,” Bohn muttered, noticing several large circular stones with holes in their centers, ancient mooring devices that had once held ships in place. The realization hit him: this area must have been coastal, submerged in water ages ago. The very thought sent a chill down his spine as he considered the enormity of what had happened to this land over millennia.

Luna stumbled in one of the deep ruts, nearly falling, but Bohn caught her just in time. “Careful,” he said, his voice steady despite the urgency. “We can do this. Together.”

She nodded, gripping his arm for balance, then quickly steadied herself. They pressed on, determined.

The mist thickened as they neared the pyramid. Steam billowed from its cracked surface, curling into the sky like smoke from a fire long forgotten. The pyramid had an entrance—dark, foreboding—but they knew they had to go inside to stop the steam.

Bohn took the lead. "I’ll go in. You hold the rope. If anything happens, pull me back. And if I don’t come out, come get me." He tied the rope around his waist and handed the other end to Luna.

Luna tightened her grip on the rope, her knuckles turning white. “I’ll pull you back. I promise.”

With a nod, Bohn stepped into the darkness, disappearing into the thick steam that choked the entrance. The heat hit him immediately, but he pressed on. It had to be close—somewhere inside, the crack releasing the steam. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and there it was: the fissure, a jagged wound in the stone floor from which the steam poured out in a steady torrent.

Bohn pulled the chess piece from his pocket—a queen, carefully designed by Professor Weiss. He took a deep breath and tossed it into the crack. It exploded on contact, a surge of white liquid bubbling up and sealing the fissure instantly. The steam stopped.

He sighed with relief, but as soon as he turned to leave, the ground beneath his feet began to shake violently.

“Luna!” he shouted, though the roar of the earthquake drowned out his voice. He sprinted toward the exit, his large frame making quick work of the distance. The pyramid was collapsing around him, stone by stone.

He burst out into the open air, just in time to see Luna struggling to stay on her feet, her back against the ancient wall, trying to hold herself steady. Without a second thought, Bohn scooped her up, cradling her in his arms. She looked up at him in surprise, but there was no time for words. He set her down, and together, they made a dash for the second ruin.

The ring-shaped ruin, which they had thought small, rose before them, more imposing than they had expected. Another set of ruts led up to its entrance, evidence of ancient transport routes. But the ground shook once more, and this time, a massive crack opened beneath their feet.

They barely had time to react before the earth split wide, revealing an ancient set of stone pillars beneath the surface. Steam hissed from a central column, billowing into the air like a warning. The second fissure was even deeper, more dangerous than the first.

Bohn looked at the pit. "We can’t reach it in time. It’s too deep."

Luna shook her head. "We don’t have a choice. We can’t leave without stopping it. And if we don’t stop it..." She didn’t need to finish. They both knew what was at stake.

Bohn, always the strategist, quickly formulated a plan. "I’m going to throw the chess piece as far as I can. But I need to get closer. I’ll run down the side, and when I give you the signal, pull me back with the rope. Don’t let go, no matter what."

Luna’s heart pounded in her chest, but she nodded. “I won’t let go.”

They exchanged a look—a moment of understanding. They had to trust each other completely. Bohn tied the rope securely around his waist again and turned toward the edge of the fissure. He glanced at Luna one last time before sprinting toward the crack, his muscles tensed, ready for the challenge ahead.

Bohn moved with the precision of an athlete, his strong legs carrying him down the steep slope as he approached the edge of the fissure. He stopped just short of the steam and pulled out the final chess piece—a rook, gleaming in the dim light. With all his strength, he hurled it toward the base of the steam column.

The rook sailed through the air, disappearing into the crack. For a moment, there was nothing. Then, the same white liquid bubbled up, sealing the steam inside. Bohn grinned in triumph, but the ground beneath him gave way.

“Now, Luna!” he shouted.

Luna pulled the rope with all her might, bracing herself against the stone. Slowly, Bohn was lifted back up, the steam around him fading into the air. But the earthquake wasn’t finished yet.

The ground trembled violently, and a massive chunk of stone fell toward them. Luna let out a gasp as she and Bohn ducked, narrowly avoiding the collapse. The rumble passed, but they had lost precious time.

“We need to get out of here!” Bohn called.

They turned toward the path they had come from, but in front of them, the ground had opened up, revealing an even larger ruin beneath. A massive stone column jutted up from the center of the newly revealed chamber, and from its base, more steam poured out.

Bohn’s heart sank. “It’s too deep. We’ll never reach it in time.”

But Luna’s face hardened with determination. “We can’t stop now. We’ve come too far.”

Bohn hesitated, then met her eyes. “Okay. I’ll throw one last time, but we need to be quick.”

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

82) THE NEWGRANGE PASSAGE TOMB

Ronald moved swiftly toward the 9 o’clock direction, where the ancient Newgrange passage tomb loomed ahead. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Newgrange? Here? In this place? He had studied it in books—the famous Irish monument—but seeing it here, among these unfamiliar surroundings, was nothing short of surreal.

The structure was more than just a tomb. It was a grand, spiritual marvel, standing tall amidst the mist. Ronald took in its size—the mound was colossal, made of approximately 200,000 tons of stone, towering 12.5 meters (41 feet) high. It commanded the landscape, a breathtaking sight in the middle of the endless mist.

Newgrange was known as a gem of megalithic art, a site renowned for its intricate stone carvings and impressive waterproofing. Its dome-like shape rose from the ground, unforgettable against the fog-covered terrain. But something was wrong—Ronald could see that steam was escaping from cracks in the ceiling, and the grass surrounding the structure had wilted, scorched by the heat.

The wind howled across the open landscape, tugging at his clothes. Ronald tightened his grip on his equipment. If this mist wasn’t here, the stone circle and the mound would stand out even more against the vast horizon.

Newgrange was a must-see for anyone interested in megalithic art, he recalled, thinking of the awe he once felt learning about it. But now, it wasn’t just a matter of admiration—it was a mission, and he had to enter this ancient tomb to stop the steam that was damaging everything around it.

Ronald, usually quiet and reserved, found himself speechless as he approached the entrance. Steam hissed from various cracks along the passage, making it clear that any closer inspection would be dangerous. The mist was thick here, and getting too close would mean burning his skin.

He pulled his cap down low, donned his goggles, and raised his collar high, covering as much of his face as possible. This is it, he thought. Time to go in.

Newgrange, the original back in Ireland, was built around 3,200 BC—older than Stonehenge and the Egyptian pyramids. Ronald knew the significance of this place; it wasn’t just a tomb. The mound itself was complex, with a long stone passage leading deep inside. It was thought to have been used for religious purposes, possibly marking the passage of time with the winter solstice sun, which aligned with its entrance.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

The rising sun on the solstice would shine deep into the passage, lighting the innermost chamber, Ronald recalled as he entered the ancient corridor. Maybe it served as a calendar, marking the end of the year and the beginning of new life. A symbol of death and rebirth.

Does that mean this place— Ronald’s mind raced as he thought of Nyra and the others, wondering if their situation connected to the ancient beliefs about life, death, and resurrection. Is this a place of death? And is there something here that could bring life back?

The steam intensified as Ronald moved deeper into the passage. He crouched low to avoid the worst of it, his knees bent as he moved swiftly through the narrow corridor. The passage was barely 2 meters high, allowing just enough space for a single person to pass. Above him, the ceiling hissed with steam, and Ronald had to duck to avoid burning himself.

He moved as quickly as he could, his heart pounding. The interior of the tomb opened into a larger chamber, the ceiling towering 6 meters high. Most of the steam was escaping from this central room, drifting out through small gaps in the stones above.

At the far end of the chamber, Ronald spotted it—a massive stone plate, about a meter wide, set into the floor. Steam was pouring out from beneath it.

This is it, Ronald thought. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the chess piece Professor Weiss had given him—the pawn. With a deep breath, he hurled the piece toward the stone plate.

The pawn hit the plate, and with a sharp crack, it exploded, releasing a surge of white foam that bubbled up and sealed the steam’s escape route. The room filled with a cooling mist, and the hissing sound of the escaping steam gradually subsided.

Ronald let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The steam was under control.

“I did it,” he whispered, his voice shaky. It was the first time Ronald had spoken aloud during the mission, his usually quiet demeanor giving way to a moment of relief.

But before he could celebrate, the ground beneath him rumbled. The earthquake that had been growing in intensity throughout their mission surged again. The passage behind him began to collapse, stones falling from the walls as the ancient structure shook violently.

Ronald crouched instinctively, narrowly dodging a falling stone. He looked back, realizing the way he had come was blocked. The exit’s gone.

Then, he saw it—a gap in the ceiling, a large crack caused by the shifting of the stones. That’s my way out, he realized.

I have to climb. There was no other choice.

Using the now-exposed stones as handholds, Ronald began to scale the crumbling walls of the chamber. His muscles strained as he pulled himself higher, the weight of his equipment making the climb difficult. The mist swirled around him, steam still rising from below.

“Wait for me, Nyra,” he whispered under his breath. I’m coming.

Step by step, he made his way toward the opening in the ceiling, his body moving with determination. Each foothold felt precarious, but Ronald pressed on, his goal clear in his mind.

I have to get out of here. I have to make it back.

The climb was treacherous, but Ronald’s resolve never faltered. I’m almost there, he thought, his eyes locked on the opening above.

Finally, with one last pull, Ronald hoisted himself through the gap, emerging onto the surface. The cool air hit his face, and he took a deep breath, grateful to be out of the suffocating chamber below.

The mission wasn’t over yet, but Ronald had made it through Newgrange’s deadly passage. Now, it was time to regroup with the others and continue toward their ultimate goal.

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

83) THE MYSTERIOUS CHESSBOARD

“Three o’clock, about 100 meters away—there’s a ruin that looks like Stonehenge!”

Without hesitation, Elena sprinted toward the distant steam rising from the ground. The dry desert landscape under her feet crunched with every step. She knew the others were already splitting up, heading to different ruins. Alex was headed for the structure at one o’clock, while Nyra and Sophia followed close behind him. She could hear their conversation faintly over her communicator.

I’m not as smart as Alex when it comes to chess, she thought as she ran. I can’t work with computers the way Nyra does, and I definitely don’t have Sophia’s genius. Sometimes I envy them.

But Elena knew one thing for sure: I have to protect Sophia. That’s my role. I’m her guardian.

Sophia didn’t know that, but to Elena, she was more than just a teammate. She’s my sister. Whether Sophia understood it or not didn’t matter. Elena would keep her safe, no matter what.

Her thoughts snapped back to the mission at hand as the landscape shifted. Why is there something like Stonehenge here? Elena wondered. She kept running, focusing on the goal in front of her. Her physical prowess was unmatched—covering the distance in under 15 seconds, she arrived at the ruin.

It wasn’t exactly Stonehenge, though. The structure before her was a circle of stones arranged on the plains, but there was no massive monument. Instead, within the circle, the land dipped slightly, forming a shallow depression. Inside that depression stood the ruins of an ancient site.

A series of limestone pillars formed a distinctive T-shape, towering between 10 and 30 meters in height. Elena’s mind raced as she recognized the style. This is like Göbekli Tepe, she realized, her breath catching. The carvings on the stones depicted wild animals—lions, bulls, boars, foxes, snakes, insects, spiders, and vultures—symbols of an ancient community’s sacred beliefs. This place might have been a shared religious site. It’s incredible.

Steam rose from a fissure near the ruins, bubbling up from a small hole. Elena knew what she had to do, but the distance was tricky. She needed to place the pawn chess piece into the crack to stop the steam, but getting close enough without getting burned was a problem.

She scanned the area and spotted some old wooden sticks scattered around the ruins. They were likely remnants of wooden weapons or tools—bows, shields, or farming implements that had once belonged to the people buried here. Maybe these were thrown out during one of the steam explosions, Elena mused.

One of the sticks was perfect—a long, sturdy piece of wood that would work as a mallet. Elena picked it up, balancing the pawn on the end of it like she was about to play an ancient game.

I can do this, she thought. With a steady hand, she swung the stick, sending the pawn flying toward the steam fissure. “Here we go!” she called out, her voice determined.

The pawn arced through the air and landed perfectly in the crack. Immediately, a surge of white foam bubbled up from the fissure, swallowing the steam and adjusting the pressure. The steam began to settle.

But then, the ground beneath her feet shook violently.

An earthquake struck, and the inner part of the stone circle collapsed slightly, sending several pillars of the ruin tumbling to the ground. Elena ducked instinctively, narrowly avoiding the falling stones. When the rumble stopped, she looked back at the center of the circle—and gasped.

There, in the newly revealed center of the ruins, was a massive stone chessboard. Elena’s eyes widened in shock as she took in the sight. The board was ancient, carved directly into the stone floor, and sitting on top of it was something strange—an altar. Its shape was disturbingly familiar.

It looks like the Aztec altar used for human sacrifices, she realized, her stomach churning at the thought. What is this place?

She needed to take note of everything. This was critical information—something far bigger than she had anticipated. She took a mental snapshot of the chessboard, memorizing its layout.

If this is a chessboard, then… Elena quickly calculated the squares. X-axis for the letters, a, b, c, d... and the Y-axis for the numbers, 1, 2, 3, 4...

She memorized the positions: f4, b5, f4, b2, g1, a1, g7, f6

Seven of the squares had carvings of human faces, while the rest featured images of fruit. She took in every detail, committing the scene to memory. This could be important.

Elena stood, adrenaline still rushing through her veins. I need to tell Sophia, she thought. And Alex—he’ll be able to analyze this information.

Without wasting another moment, Elena turned and started running again, her goal now clear. I’m coming, Sophia.

84) THE LIVING CHESSBOARD

As Alex sprinted back, his eyes caught a glimpse of Elena running in the distance. I can reach her, he thought, and pressed the power button on his goggles to open the communication line.

“Elena,” he called out, his breath steady despite the urgency.

“Alex,” she replied, her voice slightly strained but determined.

“Elena, I’m heading back now,” Alex said, his focus split between running and speaking.

“I need to tell you something while we run," Elena replied quickly. "The ruins I explored—they had a chessboard. Surrounding it were pillars with carvings of food and animals. And on the chessboard itself, there were altars—several small platforms like something was meant to be placed on them."

Alex’s mind raced as he heard this. “That sounds exactly like the reliefs I saw on the stone pillars near my ruin,” he responded.

By now, Alex had reached the fissure he had spotted earlier—the one with steam rising beside the giant stone obelisk he had examined. This is it, he thought.

“Elena, I have a theory,” he said, his mind pulling the pieces together. “The place you described—it sounds like it was once a sacrificial site. And those small platforms on the chessboard—they were likely altars for offerings, maybe even for human sacrifices.”

Elena, still running, was silent for a moment, then she nodded, even though Alex couldn’t see her. “That makes sense,” she agreed. “The site feels ancient, like something out of the Paleolithic era… maybe even as old as Göbekli Tepe.”

Alex reached into his pocket, pulling out the chess piece Nyra had entrusted to him. It was smooth, cold, and small—its simple appearance belying its importance. He bent down and carefully placed it into the steam-spewing crack.

Immediately, white foam surged out of the fissure, swallowing the steam and sealing it off almost instantly. Alex sighed with relief. That’s one more down.

“Elena,” he said, standing up, “if what you saw was from the Göbekli Tepe era, then it’s almost certain that place was a ritual ground. The community likely moved their sacrifices to a new location when the original site became too old or was no longer suitable.”

Running beside the ancient stone ruins, Elena processed the implications. “That would explain a lot,” she muttered, her voice thoughtful. “The carvings, the altars—it all points to ritual use.”

But before Alex could reply, his goggles flashed, bringing an unexpected image into focus. His heart skipped a beat.

"Nyra..." Alex whispered, his breath catching.

In front of him, on the massive chessboard he hadn’t noticed before, Nyra was stepping forward—into the center of the board. Her figure began to change, her clothes transforming into a shimmering, elaborate outfit. Golden embroidery traced patterns across her body, and in her hand, a rune-inscribed staff appeared, topped with the carving of a lion.

Alex’s mind reeled. What is she doing? His thoughts raced, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

“Nyra!” he shouted into the communicator, but she didn’t respond. It was as if she was in a trance, completely unaware of anything but her actions.

“She’s… becoming one of the chess pieces,” Alex murmured in disbelief, watching her take on the form of a bishop. A magical transformation… she’s turning herself into part of the game.

Elena’s voice came through, tense and confused. “Alex, what’s happening?”

Alex swallowed, still trying to process. “Nyra… she’s turned herself into a chess piece. A bishop, by the looks of it. And she’s holding a staff engraved with runes—it's… it’s a magical tool.”

“A magical tool?” Elena asked, her pace slowing as she tried to comprehend.

“Yes,” Alex replied, his voice filled with urgency. “It means this is more than just a game. Nyra’s actions are tied to something deeper—something ancient, and powerful. I think she’s using magic to take on the role of the bishop, and she’s doing it willingly.”

Elena’s heart raced. “Why would she do that? What does it mean?”

“I don’t know yet,” Alex admitted. “But we have to find out. If Nyra’s in the middle of this chessboard, playing an active role, then whatever ritual or magic is happening here… she’s part of it now.”

His goggles flickered again, showing Nyra standing still on the chessboard, her staff glowing faintly. The lion etched into its handle seemed to pulse with energy, as if waiting for something—or someone—to make the next move.

“Elena,” Alex said, his voice low but intense, “we need to reach her. Fast.”