What to do in another world?

ㅤ The tension was mounting. None of them moved, but in their minds, their entire lives flashed by at an unimaginable speed, with all possible scenarios. They kept their eyes fixed on the chess pieces, not a single one of which had moved. Yet, in their minds, they had already completed the game countless times. Not because their intellects were so great that they could calculate dozens, hundreds of moves ahead. No, not at all. They had simply played each other so many times that all their moves had become painfully predictable. "Enough," Ratatosk sighed. "We need something else," Richter agreed. All sorts of board games, cards, and other amusements were scattered haphazardly in the corners, games that neither of them wanted to play again, having studied each one to the point of nausea. From time to time, returning with a report on the implementation of the transformation of the world, Tenebrae brought them something new. So now all they could do was wait for him, hoping for the best. This time, however, Richter experienced an incredible disappointment: Tenebrae was clutching a rubber band in his fangs. A very ordinary, elongated rubber band. Richter had seen enough of them as a child. "Jumpsies? Seriously?" he couldn't help but ask. His voice was literally saturated with skepticism. "Even when I was a kid, kids' interest in this game was waning. Where did you get this ancient relic?" "Everything new is well-forgotten old," Tenebrae remarked wisely, spitting the rubber band into his master's hand. "The game is gaining popularity again. And you really should move around, otherwise all you do is sit." "Hmm, he's right," Ratatosk suddenly agreed. "What?" Richter's indignation was interrupted by a serious report, which he was strictly forbidden to interrupt. He was forced to grit his teeth and remain silent, muttering to himself everything he thought about the "mangy cat." When Tenebrae left their humble abode, Richter finally voiced his opinion: "Trust me, next time he'll bring a jump rope." "So what?" Richter looked dejectedly at Ratatosk, who was pensively examining the rubber band. But then… What else could he do? No one would see their shame anyway. And if Ratatosk ever mentioned it to anyone, he'd be exposing himself. They were on equal footing here. 'Fine,' Richter resigned himself to his fate. "So," he began to explain, "the rules are…" ㅤ