“No regrets?” Death asked, his eyeless sockets peering intently at the board.

“Nope,” Dash replied. Her hair had begun to run grey at the edges, but by no means did she look old. Middle age at best.

Death picked up his queenside rook, examining the butter yellow piece. “You never told her how you feel.”

“She didn’t feel the same.” Dash shrugged. “She always preferred the quiet type. To be honest, I don’t think we were all that great of friends.”

“A lot of ponies would have considered you the best of friends,” Death commented.

“She was kind, I was loyal. We probably could have hated each other and still been good friends.” Dash snorted, glancing at Death’s side of the board. “You gonna make a move yet?”

“Never met a pony in such a hurry to lose.” Death managed to smirk without lips.

“Pffft, not like you’re gonna fold.” Dash leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples with her hooves. “And these sirens are giving me a headache.”

“You never know. EMTs have called the game before.” Death set the rook back down, instead picking up a Queen in royal purple. “Not worried about her?”

“She’s got this. More than any of us, she’s got this.” Dash smiled softly, eyeing the queen. “If it weren’t for her, I might actually be worried.”

“What if she kicks it?” Death asked, shooting Dash a playful smirk. “I do like to drop in after all.”

“If she kicks it, all Equestria’s got a problem.” Dash shrugged. “Besides, I don’t think alicorns get strokes. I mean, Celestia’s still here.”

“Yeah. Alicorns.” Death sighed, a note of disgust clear in his tone. He set the queen back down, and set his hoof on a bright orange knight. “You know she’s going to be devastated, right?”

“Look, not to sound callous, but she can take it.” Dash glanced at her own king, a columbia blue like herself. “Can’t I just knock it over and fold?”

“Be a good sport.” Death sighed and leaned back, leaving the knight alone. “We only really get to do this once.”

“Yeah, and really, it’s kind of a letdown.” Dash glanced around. “Couldn’t you have sprung for some sunbeams? Foggy shores with a ship?”

“Budget cuts.” Death tapped the board. “You get a chess metaphor. Deal.”

“Awesome,” Dash drawled, tipping her own King back and forth. “I really can’t fold?”

“You really don’t care? At all?” Death began to reach for a pale white bishop, but Dash just shook her head.

“Nope.” She sighed and tipped over her King. “I’m done.”

“But… why?” Death just stared at the fallen king, then looked up at Dash.

“Like I said, they got this.” Dash smiled, staring off into the distance. “I’ve been a Wonderbolt, saved the world, and had the best little sis in the world. Sure, I never had a kid, or got married, but those would end badly and we all know it.” She sighed. “Look, I’m gonna take off, alright? If you’re not gonna help, could you at least point me in the right direction?”

“Sure.” Death shook his head, finally laughing softly. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.” He glanced back at the board, and shook his head. “No regrets, huh?”

“Not a one.” Dash paused. “Unless the afterlife’s this bland. Then I’d probably regret dying.”

“Nah, you’re okay.” Death smiled, and led her off into the dark. “You’re gonna be just fine.”