For those catching up, Freestyle (formerly Fischer Random) is chess with scrambled openings. The idea: remove memorized theory, kill the engine prep, and level the field. No one gets their favorite line. Everyone starts in the dark. And in theory, the chaos makes things more human.

Except somehow, Carlsen thrives in the dark too.

He called the result “one of my best.” Which sounds modest until you remember he once won a world title match with three draws and a walkout. His final game was against Vincent Keymer, the German prodigy and winner of the first Freestyle Grand Slam. For most of the match, Keymer held an equal position. Then came time trouble. Then came Magnus. Then came nine out of nine.

What does this mean? Besides the fact that Carlsen is still winning everything? Mostly, it’s a reminder that even in a format built to upend dominance, some players don’t just adapt — they absorb. Watching Magnus play Freestyle is like watching a rock climber scale a wall they weren’t supposed to see. He’s not just solving positions — he’s treating randomized chess like it’s a fixed story he’s already read.

Carlsen’s performance didn’t change the way he is perceived. But it did add a new line to his resume: still unbeatable, even when you move the pieces around before he sits down.

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World Chess is launching a media platform soon. Until then, we’ll keep tracking whatever Magnus Carlsen decides to reinvent next.