THE GAME OF THE GODS

Before time…
before mankind…

there existed the Architect of sidereal space.

He was not born.
He was not created.
He had no name while there were no languages to pronounce one.

He inhabited a formless void,
surrounded by primordial darkness,
while stars burned in his imagination long before they shone.

He conceived the universe
before the universe knew it would exist.

From his thought, galaxies emerged.
From his will, matter and shadow learned to coexist.

Then the Architect conceived a board.

Not an object.
Not a game.

But a perfect representation of universal order.

An immense, mythological, eternal board,
where each square was a fragment of the cosmos,
and each piece an ancestral spirit,
bound to move according to immutable laws.

There was no chance.
Only cause and consequence.
Only advance, sacrifice, and destiny.

The board remained perfect.
Too perfect.

And perfection,
even for gods,
eventually becomes insufficient.