Chapter 30: Chess 3.0: The Reckoning
"Arthur, darling! If your work is done early, wouldn't you like to join us?" the queen called from the pergola.
Jasper turned, narrowing his eyes at the group of women seated in the pergola. "Arthur? Oh, right, that's me," he muttered to himself. He approached the group, his eyes locking onto the woman who had called him. She was regal and poised, clearly someone of importance. "And who might you be, sweetheart?"
The queen raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback. "I am your queen, Eleanor. Are you feeling well, Arthur?"
Jasper smirked, leaning in close. "Never better, Eleanor. Just trying to wrap my head around this delightful little world."
---
**One Month Later**
Jasper had spent the last month acclimating to the intricacies of ruling the miniature world. He played the part of King Arthur well enough, but his true nature was beginning to seep through. The villagers and courtiers noticed the king's growing impatience and erratic behavior.
One evening, during a grand feast, Jasper stood abruptly, raising his goblet. "To progress!" he declared. The crowd cheered, though unease rippled through the hall as they caught the manic gleam in his eyes.
-—
**Nine Months Later**
The kingdom celebrated the birth of a new prince. Jasper, feeling both amused and annoyed, he named the child Morty. The queen, Eleanor, doted on their son, while Jasper's indifference towards the baby was palpable.
In the nursery, Jasper stared at the crib, the baby gurgling and reaching out to him. He scoffed, "Well, kid, you're nothing but another pawn in this game."
Eleanor looked up, her face a mix of concern and anger. "Arthur, he's your son. You should show him some love."
Jasper rolled his eyes. "Love? the thing that I never had as a kid? He's just an another piece, lucky he gets to exist in my world."
---
**One Year Later**
The baby, now a toddler, was beginning to walk and talk. Jasper's disdain for Morty had only grown. He treated the child with cold indifference, if not outright hostility.
One day, Jasper watched as Morty tried to stack blocks. The baby wobbled, knocking over the tower. Jasper sneered, "You can't even do that right, Morty. Pathetic."
Eleanor, holding back tears, picked up Morty. "He's just a child, Arthur. Why are you so cruel?"
Jasper laughed harshly. "Cruel? This is nothing. The world is cruel, woman. He better learn that sooner rather than later."
''What's happening to you, you can't be the man I knew and fell in love with''
''Haha I don't know why it took you so long to understand. of course I'm not a pathetic human being, I could fly at this child's age, and look at him, he can barely walk.''
---
**One Year Later**
The kingdom had prospered under King Arthur's rule, but Jasper's interest was waning. Because he is in a human body for so long, human nature had overtaken him and he was going crazy... The villagers, unaware of his true nature, struggled with the sudden and inexplicable changes in their lives.
In the throne room, Jasper lounged on his throne, bored as his subjects presented their grievances. He interrupted a farmer mid-sentence, "You think I care about your petty squabbles? I am your fucking god! Your lives are nothing more than a game to me."
The room fell silent, shock and fear etched on the faces of the court. Jasper stood, pacing like a caged animal. "You want justice? I'll give you justice." He snapped his fingers. "Guards! Seize him!"
The guards, looking bewildered but obedient, grabbed the farmer. "Watch this," Jasper muttered to himself, a twisted grin on his face. "Execute him."
The right-hand advisor, who had long since stopped trying to correct Jasper's use of his name, stepped forward cautiously. "My lord, please, the people—"
"Shut up, Sebastian!" Jasper bellowed, waving a hand dismissively. "I tire of this charade. You're all just pieces on my board."
The advisor retreated, his face pale. The room was in chaos, courtiers scrambling to avoid Jasper's wrath. He reveled in their fear, a dark satisfaction settling over him.
---
**Another Month Later**
Jasper had retreated to his private chambers, the kingdom outside in disarray. The once-thriving land was now a place of uncertainty and dread. He sat at his desk, scribbling notes on parchment. "I'm going crazy, I need to finish this game, I need to start a war!"
He glanced out the window, where the moon hung low in the sky. "Or maybe," he mused, "it's time to declare war on the neighboring kingdom. That should liven things up."
Jasper chuckled, a cold, sinister sound. "Yes, a war. That will be entertaining." He stood, stretching his limbs. "Let's see how they handle a god's wrath."
He called the military chief and told him to start preparations for the march
---
**Two Months Later**
Jasper's behavior had grown increasingly erratic. He would summon his advisors and courtiers only to berate them or make bizarre proclamations. The villagers whispered about their mad king, and rumors spread like wildfire.
In the throne room, Jasper addressed his court, his eyes wild. "You think your lives matter? You're ants! I am your god! I can crush you with a thought!"
The courtiers and villagers cowered in fear, exchanging worried glances. One brave soul stepped forward. "My lord, please, we beg you for mercy."
Jasper sneered. "Mercy? You think I care about your pathetic lives? I created this world! I can end it just as easily."
He gestured to the guards. "Guards! Take him and execute him right now."
The right-hand advisor, trembling, tried to reason with him. "My lord, the people are suffering. They need your guidance, your wisdom."
"Shut up, Sebastian!" Jasper roared. "You're all just pieces on my board, and I'm done playing nice."
The advisor's face turned pale as he retreated. The villagers exchanged terrified looks, their fears confirmed. The king had gone mad.
—
**Two More Months Later**
The kingdom was in turmoil. Jasper's proclamations grew more bizarre and violent. He had ordered arbitrary punishments, incited fear, and sowed chaos. The villagers had begun to call him the Mad King, and rebellion was brewing.
Jasper, reveling in his self-proclaimed godhood, began forcing the villagers to participate in twisted games for his amusement. One day, he gathered a group of villagers and made them compete in a deadly challenge.
"Alright, you pathetic lot," Jasper sneered. "The last one standing gets to live. The rest of you? Well, let's just say it won't be pretty."
The villagers looked at each other in horror, but they had no choice. The deadly game began, and Jasper watched with a twisted grin as they fought for their lives.
One particularly gruesome moment came when Jasper forced a villager to execute his own brother. The man, sobbing, pleaded for mercy, but Jasper remained unmoved.
"Do it," Jasper commanded coldly. "I'll cut both your dicks off and feed them to each other."
With shaking hands, the villager complied, and Jasper's laughter echoed through the courtyard.
---
**The Day of the March**
The kingdom was in turmoil. Jasper's proclamations grew more bizarre and violent. He had ordered arbitrary punishments, incited fear, and sowed chaos. The villagers had begun to call him the Mad King, and rebellion was brewing.
As Jasper prepared to march his troops towards the neighboring kingdom, he stood before his people, a twisted grin on his face. "Today, we show the world our power! Today, we conquer!"
Just as Jasper relished the moment, a sudden, sharp pain pierced his chest. He looked down to see a blade protruding through his ribs, slick with his own blood. Stunned, he turned his head to see his right-hand advisor, a fierce determination in his eyes.
"Sebastian... why?" Jasper gasped, blood dribbling from his lips.
The advisor leaned in close, his voice low and filled with conviction. "For the people, you fucking maniac. And my name is not Sebastian. It's William."
With a final, vengeful twist of the knife, William pulled the blade free, and Jasper collapsed to the ground. The last thing he saw was the triumphant, relieved expressions of his people as they realized their tormentor was finally gone.
As darkness closed in, Jasper's final thought was a bitter realization: in the end, he was nothing more than a piece on the board, and the game was over.