Some of those in his session looked to the future. They looked at the clouds, and they saw what was to come. The boy could not, for he found himself on the darker of two moons. So, when the time came to search for answers, he looked to the past, hoping to gleam the answer, "why?" Yet however he searched, he only found void. These strange, insect-like creatures had no past, no culture other than that which was ingrained into their genetics. They simply said about their traditions, "this is how it's always been." The animals, meanwhile, weren't intelligent enough to have more than a tribal lifestyle, much less a written chronical of the answers of the game. Finally, with nowhere left to turn, the Noble turned to the present with questions unanswered: Why was his title different than the others'? What happened to his home? Why were so many of the creatures here hostile?? He went to the queen, the most hostile of all, and asked her for the answers.

These “carapacians” were created by the game. They have no lives, their purpose programmed into them. And as soon as that purpose is fulfilled, as soon as the new universe is created, they found themselves time and time again abandoned and left to die out. And while the inhabitants of the bright moon simply played their part, those here fought to rebel. They wanted to break the cycle, to prevent a new universe so no more pointless lives would be created and taken just for the purpose of a redundant game. In rebelling, they were fulfilling their very purpose, but they knew the only way to truly be free was to win the impossible game. Such was the struggle of the Dersites, she explained, they only wanted to shed their shackles, to be free, to live.

The boy, he thought on what the black queen said. And the more he thought, the more he realised, they were right. They did not deserve to live and die like this, like animals, caged and released to war with one another whenever the game is played. His home he loved so dearly did not deserve its life snuffed out in a rain of hellfire, from a GAME of all things. Finally having the answers, he made his choice. He turned coat, took up arms for the antagonists and took the title of the Black Prince. The other players were Heroes to the peoples of the brighter moon and their consorts, but the Noble was a hero to those underrepresented, the "bad guys," the scrappers. He would champion their cause until his former allies struck him down.

Even in new universes legends abound from the Dersites, passed on through the data of the game itself of the Noble, that hero who took their cause rather than following destiny’s hand, giving up his life in the end. But he swore that someday, he would rise again, and exact his wrath for those of the darker moon.

Those of Derse still hope that someday the prophecy will be fulfilled, one made not by the game or the horrorterrors or the powers that be, but by he who rejected the great game and died for it. And perhaps it will, perhaps he is simply biding his time, or perhaps his death is true and his memory is all that lives on. One thing is true, though, even now as his legend fades through the ages. He was a hero, just one for the other side.