[ WP ] Two god-like beings , disguised as old men , play a game of chess on a park bench to decide the final fate of humanity . The players , however , are distracted by a couple seated across them ...

The sun was high above the park, illuminating the gorgeous greens of spring trees and blues of freshly bloomed flowers, whose aromas drifted along the twisted, rocky path. They tantalized a man, whose body was old, yet obviously strong. He wore a threadbare shirt, and well used jeans. All that gave away his ancient age were the wrinkles on his face and hands, the thin white hair that hung off his head like strings from a sweater, and his eyes. 
 
 These were the eyes of one who had seen so much that every book ever written, every story ever told was a mere fraction of his knowledge. Eyes that had witnessed the rise and fall of cities, civilizations, even entire species. But in this moment, only the warmth and smells mattered. For that moment, he was just a man who had lived far past his time, enjoying the fauna. Slowly, a rare slight smile, spread across his face. 
 
 His respite was not long lived. From the near sky-rise where black clouds of the coming storm had gathered, a low, deep growl of thunder rolled across the peaceful oasis of green, reminding the white-haired man of the importance of his afternoon stroll. His pace quickened as his smile was immediately replaced by the stern frown that had etched those wrinkles into him all those eons ago. 
 
 He approached the designated place. It was in a small culvert of the park, along a path rarely walked. Sitting there was an ancient wooden bench stained by the elements and time, supported by cracked granite and sitting underneath a freshly bloomed cherry blossom. On the right side of this bench stood an unsettling looking gentleman. His body was tall and thin, highlighted by a new black suit that had far too much slack. His fingers were long, bony extremities that resembled talons. His face was what made him a disturbing sight. The skin was stretched to tight across the skeletal structure of his jaw, his eyes slightly shrunken into his head, but still the gaze was as sharp and deadly as daggers. Hair flowed down his shoulders that had been pitch black for so many millennium, but was now fading to grey on the tips. 
 
 The opponents stared at each other, recognizing the significance of not only what they were about to do, but also that they were the last, the only ones left to decide. After a moment, they sat on opposite sides, and prepared. Out came the board, a gift from ruler long forgotten. Its border made of rich mahogany, and inside, sixty four perfect squares. Thirty two were pure white, made of pearls, while the others were of deep black onyx. On this checkered battlefield, the armies were assembled. Sixteen footmen stared across the field at each other, knowing their probable fate. As the queens directed the other twelve veterans into position, the kings stood their places, staring across the front lines, into the soul of the enemy. 
 
 As troop movements ended, there was a long silence, the calm before the deadly storm. Then, the first white soldier stepped forwards, beginning the conflict to end all conflicts. Over the next few hours, these old men strategized and manipulated, using tactics never seen or imagined, yet never a word was said. Between them sat their joint history, so much death, so much loss. Every piece merely trying to make a difference before being taken. 
 
 Voices could be heard down the path, and both men paused the game to turn and see a young couple stroll into the isolated area. They did not notice the old men, their attentions turned fully to the conversation at hand, as they sat on the bench opposite. 
 
 The white haired man turned back to the game, lazily restarting the endless battle. `` Samantha and Christopher,'' the first words stated by the white haired man in years. His voice still as strong as a gale wind. `` they are to be married soon.'' 
 
 The man in black offered a slight chuckle, whose presence made the air tangibly colder. `` They call themselves Sam and Chris, apparently real names are too long for their limited intelligence.'' 
 
 `` They do seem so in love.'' 
 
 The black man barely tilted his head in their direction. `` It is of no consequence.'' 
 
 The man in white paused his soldiers mid-defensive maneuver. `` Do you not see the greatness of what has been created here? What they have turned into?'' 
 
 The man in black considered the board, seeing the impending counter attack. He then turned towards the pair. `` Chris' father, an abusive drunk who killed the whore mother, and Sam ran away from a psychotic grandmother, their greatness is truly lost on me.'' 
 
 The battlefield remained stagnant, the soldiers frozen as though insects caught in tree sap. `` Yet they found each other, beyond all the odds and all the evil acts.'' 
 
 After a pause, the battle resumes. Both men lost in thought, though no longer about wars and consequences. `` And even with all that love, he is still seeing another woman. Even now, he is thinking about her. They are selfish species. So much time they have been given, so many chances to fix their mistakes. And yet all they have mastered is how to kill one another, how to destroy all the gifts they have been given. They do not deserve our love, nor our mercy. They need a fresh start to learn from the mistakes of the past.'' 
 
 The conversation is interrupted by a high pitch screech followed by a series of giggles and a hearty laugh echoed between the trees, originating from the opposite bench. The men turn, staring at the entwined lovers, at the wonder encompassed in that small moment. 
 `` See how they look at each other? Do you hear what is between them? No where else in all of creation can you find such passion. With all the mistakes they have made, it is their beauty and intensity that has truly been mastered. Even now they strive to prefect everything they find, beyond any plans we made or could have made. It is not our right to strip them of the chance to right themselves.'' 
 
 The man in black turned, staring into the age-old eyes of his brother. `` Even with all we have seen, with all they have done and could do?'' 
 
 The man in white continued staring at the other bench. `` If anyone deserves a second chance,'' he nods at the couple, `` they do.'' 
 
 A soldier is absent-mindedly moved forwards. The clunk of his final step on the long, bloody journey complete. While neither man had thought about the consequences, they subconsciously perceived the event that had just occurred. 
 
 They both looked down, and saw it, the final checkmate. 
 
 The white king bowed his head for the final time, before falling to the onyx floor. The following silence was the twin to the sound just before the beginning of life, where they all sat staring at the lump of celestial components that would be come life in the universe. The omega to that ancient and forgotten alpha. 
 
 The man in black was the first to stand. There was no gloating in his eyes, no satisfaction, only duty. He glanced at Sam and Chris, still cuddled in an embrace, as if it would protect them from what was to come. The look lasted only a moment, before he spun quickly, throwing his dark trench coat over his shoulders to protect his thin stature from the rapidly rising winds. He walked out of the small culvert, down the untrodden path and disappeared into the growing shadows of the trees. 
 
 Still the man in white sat there, staring at the treasured board, shivering in the cold breeze. His joints creaked as he slowly stood, and turned one last time towards Sam and Chris. Their smiles were so radiant, so full of life, so full of ignorance for what had been decided. They were smiles that would haunt him forever. As the man in white turned towards the lonely path, the first drop came from above. It landed on the stony-faced white king, slowly sliding down his cheek like a tear.
