Overview:

Topher, his cousins, and their friend Roanne select their tokens—characters drawn from various genres and media, as revealed by the game’s mysterious cards. As they begin playing The Star of Vis board game, they uncover hidden rules that trigger unexpected twists, leading to erratic gameplay and an unpredictable ranking system among the players. Meanwhile, outside the cave and back at the resort, their families—stranded by a raging storm—frantically search for a way to reunite with their missing children, unaware of the extraordinary adventure unfolding before them.

“A wizarding student in a School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… an anthropomorphic candy in the vast world of the internet… a talking lion cub of the Animal Kingdom… a spy with cool gadgets… a monster trainer with battle cards… the Red Scout who leads his band of Sentai (Squadron, task force; Japanese transl.)… a martial artist with the blue spirit of the White Tiger.”

James took his time choosing his token. Decision-making wasn’t his strong suit, as he always saw perks from all angles.

“What’s with the delay? We’re only halfway through selecting characters,” Michael impatiently pressured him.

“Okay, I’ve made up my mind. Since I look the part, why not become the K-pop idol myself,” James said, settling for the piece in his immediate reach, giving in to his younger brother’s push.

“Oh, that was quick,” Michael remarked, surprised. “And that powerless idol again,” he added, unfortunately.

“But musically talented,” James defended his choice nonchalantly.

“Kuya (Big Brother, transl.) James, here’s your character profile,” Topher handed him the orange paperboard.

“Lemme see.” James glanced at the profile and read it aloud for the group, always the team player.

K-pop Lee Seo-won began his career by winning the teen reality TV contest “Korean Boyband Superstars.” After the competition, the five champions were put in a boys’ group and christened VHS Adstrum (Star, Latin transl.) by top judge and show creator Mr. Yoon Jae-in. From there, South Korea saw the meteoric rise of the boyband into a global phenomenon, breaking records on the Billboard music charts. Lee, more known by his English name Yohan, earned the moniker ‘Oppa Rockstar’ from his fans. The lead vocalist and leader ventured into K-dramas, finding mainstream success. His latest project is the slasher thriller “Bloody Coast,” set in a remote coastal village, on Netflix. Despite being shy and quiet personally, Yohan has been linked to several girls, officially dating multiple. He’s become a legend among young Korean men—a ladies’ man of few words.

“A ladies’ man, nice,” James said, pleased.

“Can relate?” Allison teased.

“Me? No playboy here. I’m simply a hopeless romantic—a champion of love,” James replied, one of his many euphemisms.

Roanne, sitting a bit farther away from the cousins, caught Topher’s eye. Remembering the icebreaker game, Topher searched through the tokens and character profiles, finding the mermaid princess and her backstory. He approached Roanne and handed her the clay token and seafoam green paperboard.

“Here you go,” Topher said.

Roanne glanced at the profile and then at Topher, holding the paperboard at an angle so they could read together.

Fairytale Princess (a franchise of sorts) A long time ago, there was a kingdom beneath the gentle waters—the Atlean Kingdom of the Primordial Sea. The glittery indigo waters of the Primordial Sea glistened pearly white on a marble bowl, turning periwinkle and aquamarine as waves crashed everywhere. King Orion ruled Atlan with his mighty trident, endowed with the powers of The Moon and The Sun. His weapon could control the weather, becoming the bane of pirates and sailors alike. His eldest daughter, the dutiful Princess Ruana, was betrothed to marry the next Sea King but found true love in the arms of a lowly sailor from the land. Would she forsake the Merfolk for freedom and happiness?

Wow, “The Little Mermaid” is a masterpiece, but this fairytale feels like a love story told once in a generation, Roanne thought.

Topher was glad his Ate (Big Sis, transl.) was intrigued by Princess Ruana’s world. He had a heart for underdogs and outsiders alike.

Benjamin decisively spoke up, “Could I have the space captain?” he asked Topher properly.

“And the captain’s profile,” Benjamin added, never missing the important details.

Topher obliged and handed over the blue paperboard.

Benjamin adjusted his glasses for comfortable reading and began with the captain’s background:

Science Fiction (genre) Mikhail Varshavski, codename Captain McKinley, is the captain of the falcon-shaped spaceship Peregrine. In his early 50s, Varshavski commands from the center, aided by the Multi-functional Artificial Intelligence and Search Engine, MAurISE, pronounced Maurice. The old man didn’t mind the gray hair and white streaks. A Russian American, Varshavski went by the alias Agent XX97 in his youth as a space ranger. He wielded a laser gun on his space armor as he patrolled planets, star systems, and space stations throughout the Milky Way Galaxy in the 31st century. Other crew members include ROBO3000, a high-tech expert bordering on madness, and CleanBot, a one-man maintenance staff believed to have developed a human heart. The Peregrine still seeks a mechanic for spaceship repairs. Even with nanotechnology, lasers, and holography, scientists and researchers debate the existence of other galaxies, dimensions, and timelines.

This is great, the longest profile yet. The more data, the better, Benjamin thought, pleased.

RPG (Role-playing Game) Prince Cerulean Arlentis was born into the royal family of the High Kingdom of Aurea during the cusp of the High and Late Middle Ages. As the firstborn son, he was heir apparent to the Throne of Heaven. The boy grew into a strong, brave young man—blonde hair, blue eyes, tall, muscular, and handsome. To everyone’s shock, Cerulean renounced his title and birthright to join the Most Holy Order of the Church. His oath as a paladin forbade him from fathering children or owning land. Donning a winged helmet, white cape, and silver armor laced with gold, Sir Arlentis wielded a holy sword, leading the Church army against the forces of darkness. He rose to be the longest-reigning Pope, ushering in decades of peace before reuniting with The Creator at age one hundred. The Church canonized him after three attributed miracles.

Topher read the character profile on an ivory paperboard for his chosen token: the paladin.

“My character is uniquely a historical figure in an alternate Medieval Europe,” he quipped.

“The rules stated that descending birth order—eldest to youngest—is the basis for the order of turns,” Benjamin, a stickler for rules, pointed out.

“Alright, alright—no need to shove it down our throats. Let’s get to it,” Michael responded passive-aggressively, always the one to dislike rules of any kind.

“If that’s the case, you go first, Roanne.” James, ever friendly, offered the first turn to the fifteen-year-old, who was the oldest of the group.

Roanne obliged and placed her mermaid princess token in the ‘START’ space, written in calligraphy on parchment shaped like a heraldic shield.

James (14), Benjamin (13), Michael (11), Topher (9), Allison (7), and lastly Sophie (4) followed suit. All seven clay tokens were now on START.

“We have to win this and complete the game. I believe this is the only way to save my little friend and free him from the board,” Topher reminded everyone, though oblivious to the fact that no one was taking him seriously.

To everyone’s surprise, the sparkly blue-white shooting star emerged from the navy crystal ball at the center of the board.

“My friend, you’re finally free. You can go back to the stars in the night sky,” Topher said, on the verge of tears, truly happy for the shooting star.

“Something’s not right. My friend here isn’t moving from his position. He’s still stuck in some way,” Topher realized with disappointment.

“Must be a hologram,” Benjamin, ever scientific and skeptical, explained to the group.

Roanne, the oldest, took her turn first and rolled the dice. The pair showed a five and a four—nine. As she prepared to move her mermaid princess token, it moved forward on its own for nine spaces.

“Must be magnetized,” Benjamin offered another rational explanation for the strange turn of events.

“Nice automatic tokens,” James chimed in, making light of the situation and looking on the bright side.

James and Benjamin took their turns next, navigating the rocky battlefield of superheroes at sunset (or dusk), lined with tiny red platforms on the eastern panel of the board. Then it was Michael’s turn—he rolled a double one on START.

Suddenly, the shooting star disappeared—neither projected mid-air nor inside the crystal ball.

“Where did my Buddy go?” Topher frantically looked around, searching for the shooting star.

He glanced down and saw a spiraling blue-white light, resembling the Milky Way Galaxy, inside the crystal ball. A text popped up mid-air in a glowing blue-white font:

HIDDEN RULE

VIII. Should you roll a double one on START, advance directly to FINISH.

“The animation with the shooting star and the text just now—there are microchips inside the board. Maybe even an entire motherboard with wires,” Benjamin speculated.

“Or simply magic,” Sophie said, putting her faith in the extraordinary.

“Whoa, did I just win?” Michael asked, surprised.

His superhero token—depicting a male in a sleeveless spandex outfit with headgear, bracelets, and boots—leaped directly to the ‘FINISH’ space in The Heavens.

“HELL YEAH! I placed first!” Michael yelled, elated.

“What a powerful magnet!” Benjamin was shocked by what he witnessed.

The superhero climbed up to one of the seven pedestals inside the Visean Zodiac, next to the crystal ball. The silver button of the superhero’s constellation glyph was replaced with a golden segment in the band of the Visean Signs.

The shooting star reappeared, and Topher sighed in relief. The hidden rule was gone.

The scarlet luminary began to shine, closest to the large blue-white shooting star, and started revolving in its concentric plane around the meteor.

“So that’s what happens when an acolyte is hailed—when a token reaches FINISH and stands on a pedestal, a luminary revolves around the Star of Vis, the shooting star,” Benjamin observed.

“To finish the game, all seven luminaries must show,” Topher concluded.

Michael, restless, was doing push-ups on the ground outside the circle of players around the board game.

“Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…” Michael counted to himself.

Allison rolled the two dice, and her magical girl token—an early-teen figure with a tiara, long gloves, a magic dress, holding a heart wand, and boots—automatically moved the corresponding number of spaces along the tiny orange platforms in the beehive, the lower-right panel of the board. There were male bee workers and even a river of honey.

The Visean Universe, an Aristotelian universe of sorts, disappeared again to reveal another hidden rule.

“Another hidden rule,” Benjamin said, growing wary of the game’s increasing twists.

HIDDEN RULE

IX. On the fifth turn, should your token be the only one inside the beehive in the Southeast, proceed directly to FINISH.

“I really must be the special Queen Bee,” Allison declared, watching her magical girl token, the only one in the beehive, gracefully move toward FINISH, almost as if on a conveyor belt.

“See, my magical girl has manners, unlike someone whose token just leaped to FINISH,” Allison teased, throwing shade at Michael, though he didn’t catch it, preoccupied with his workout.

The magical girl stood on the pedestal at FINISH. The pink luminary appeared, revolving in its concentric plane around the Star of Vis, farther from the first plane of the scarlet luminary.

“Okay, I’ll concede to being second place. After all, at the royal court, the King comes before the Queen,” Allison said, accepting the outcome and still deeming her ranking to be good.

Michael continued his workout, shifting to sit-ups in one corner.

“Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty…” he counted.

Allison took an intermission from vlogging. Kneeling in front of her phone on a small tripod, she recorded herself dancing, making pretty faces, and posing for a short video to be uploaded to her Musical.ly account.

It was Sophie’s turn, and she rolled the two dice. Her bee girl token—a figure with a bob cut, antennae on her head, insect wings on her back, a honeybee’s abdomen and stinger, goggles, fingerless gloves, a varsity jacket over a tube top, shorts, and running shoes—moved the corresponding number of spaces.

Her token lagged in last place. The bee girl landed on a tiny powder blue platform, one of the special ‘Fate Spaces,’ in the lower-left panel of the board—the dark concert scene where black silhouettes of fans waved cyan, magenta, and yellow glowsticks under white spotlights. The line of magenta platforms stretched across this panel.

“A Fate Space, nice,” James said, pleased with his little sister Sophie’s luck.

“Someone landed on a Fate Space for the first time, I need to vlog this,” Allison said, hastily abandoning her music video recording and returning to the players’ circle.

The miniature Chest of Destiny—sky blue and gold—automatically opened, revealing a tiny silver deck of cards inside.

“You have to pick a card from the deck,” Allison coached Sophie for her vlog.

“Alright,” Sophie said, drawing a card and reading aloud: “Go to the next Fate Space.”

The gray clay token advanced accordingly, and the chest opened itself again.

“Oh, two Fate Spaces in a row,” Allison remarked sassily.

“Go to the next Fate Space,” Sophie read again.

“That’s the third one. Lady Luck must be on your side,” James teased his sister.

The process—picking, reading, moving, and landing on Fate Spaces—repeated many times until Sophie reached the ninth Fate Space.

“Woah! Unbelievable, it must be fate. I read the Pisces horoscope earlier, and it said today is magical for a Piscean like you, Sophie,” James quipped.

Sophie, hoping this was the last one, reluctantly drew another card from the Chest of Destiny. She scanned the card: “Go to the FINISH.”

“Oh.” On a twist of fate, Sophie’s bee girl token flew all the way to FINISH and stood on the pedestal.

If there are magnets inside the board, how could the bee girl have flown almost horizontally, well above the board’s surface? If that’s the case, those magnets are more powerful than I thought, Benjamin pondered as the game progressed.

The yellow luminary appeared, revolving in its concentric plane around the Star of Vis, farther from the second plane of the pink luminary.

“You ranked third,” Allison congratulated Sophie on her achievement, though it was lesser than her own.

Michael was still working out, now jogging in place. Allison resumed her Musical.ly session in front of her phone, while Sophie, who had reached the finish line, quietly drew with a black crayon on a small sketchpad in her lap, seated in the players’ circle.

James rolled the dice, and his K-pop idol token—decked out in a stylized headset, visor glasses, jacket, shirt, fingerless gloves, pants, and sneakers, and holding an electric guitar—advanced the corresponding number of spaces.

In the sprawling line of tiny teal platforms under the sea—underwater with corals, seaweeds, fish, and foam—the left panel of the board marked the world of the West.