The Children of Zegandaria by Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov (top novels to read .TXT) 📕

- "Damn it!," the overlord growled. "So someone has infiltrated here after all, besides me!"

He decided to activate a special mind-reading antivirus and through a special virtual interface read the following ciphergram:

"The others will be lonely when this is all over, you'll never catch me. And the transfer you wanted to send to Planet Kickluk Sor to give you a chance to slip away, has long been blocked and the money is traveling to an unknown destination. Postscript: You're not the only one who's been to this level. Beware your enemies. I am not one of them. You are in mortal danger!"

The lord wanted to grab his head with his hands and shout. But that was in danger of causing his virtual copy to crack. Each virtual copy was particularly sEnsitive to different vibrations - especially sonic ones. It was a cardinal rule to keep absolute silence at this level, which was why it was known as the silence level.

He turned and looked at it - there was nothing actually on this level and it seemed empty. It took on the shapes and forms that materialized in the mind of whoever managed to penetrate.

For the first time the lord understood that to be at the top was to be alone.

Claims that being in such a place did not affect the psyche were sunsequently absolutely wrong.

Om Gur Nal had long been on anti-depressants - but it was the only way he could exert his power over others. His mandate was a mere formality. A heavy burden, but sweet at the same time.

So many eyes had been on him over the years that he knew any possible failure would send him into the abyss.

After scrutinizing the man's face and determining that he didn't recognize him, the lord performed the obligatory procedures for exiting the level.

It took about ten to fifteen minutes to complete all the prescriptions.

Once his brain had acclimated to the surrounding reality, he ground through his teeth:

It had been too long a night! Strange why it's always day in El World and the seasons don't change. It's all so artificial.

He relaxed in the expensive, bejeweled armchair and for the first time wondered why he was doing all this. What was the damn point? Nothing had changed after all. The atmosphere in his room was unbearable. There was no one around.

- "This virtual world is made for loners," he ground out through his teeth. "Everything in it is so fucked up and weird. Reality is far more attractive."

The problem was that he felt far more at home here, away from real people. Here on his own level, he could do whatever he wanted and no one would hold him accountable for anything.

The understandings of the age were changing, and many things had not been the same for a long time. Om Gur Nal knew well that life was in periods - one would End just for another to begin. No more, no less.

- "The problem is where will I be in the next stage of reality?," he sadly concluded.

The silence in his room was even greater than in the fifth level of El World.

- "Arleon's doors are doing their job well, though," he yawned smugly and prepared to sleep.

A serious problem plagued him, though - who was this secret and implacable enemy?

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE: CASILIO VEGA

Being the leader of a separatist movement was not easy - it all weighed heavily on the shoulders of Casilio Vega.

He was tall and of slight build, his sinewy muscles were well trained, and his martial arts skills were legendary. He was also excellent with any weapon. He trained his followers after having briefly gone through a career as a ghost warrior.

The assassination attempt only brought the entire movement to its feet - they became much more loyal to their leader.

When you don't have any other cause you either go into the army or become a rebel.

Casilio Vega had disagreed with the established order for a long, long time - not that he was living badly.

He was the son of wealthy heirs who inhabited a new neighborhood on the site of what was once Intok Rul.

He remembered his childhood years in that neighborhood - so romantic and unforgettable. He could do anything with the kids who were his friends. He couldn't forget the sunsets either - so unique and full of mysterious meaning.

He had a good childhood which was cut short too early when the new Om Gur Nal came to power. In all that time only two paramount rulers had changed because the first of them had failed to complete his full twenty-five year term.

Then irreversible changes began which did not please Casilio Vega. He was a bit of a maverick, living in his own world and wanting to set the rules of his own life. He decided then that he would not listen to the strange and rather disingEnuous explanation of it all and take a new and original path.

Nothing new occurred to him, however - he checked and it turned out that the separatist movement was the best option for him. He soon found allies who would play a key role in later events. There was nothing accidental about it, for he intended to deal with all the rogues and trash who were licking the soles of Om Gur Nal. It had to be done and he would not hesitate to be their rod in the wheels.

He quickly built a group that was renowned for its brutal discipline - the arthasan people would soon be known far and wide across the planet.

Casilio knew that Om Gur Nal would notice their rise, and would strike one last instant. And he was not too late.

But then the adventurer, who was an excellent chess player, became acutely aware of a great weakness of Om Gur Nal - the fragmentation in his actions.

Sooner or later Om Gur Nal would make a pass or be left alone and then he would feel the wrath of Casilio, the brutal and underhanded separatist who knew what was happening everywhere.

The Arthasan people were more knowledgeable than many others, and for very good reason.

Casilio Vega lived to bring down the tyrant Om Gur Nal. He wanted to cut off his head with his own hands. And perhaps he would get that opportunity soon.

The separatists devoured greedily various propaganda doctrines that brainwashed their minds and made them totally fart.

But Casilio was clever, sneaky and extremely cunning - he was something of a snake in sheep's clothing - he didn't just rely on ideological training, but thought up every day more sophisticated and subtle techniques for brainwashing.

In the far North, Om Gur Nal's powers were quite limited and so many things could happen to anyone. It wouldn't be the first time.

Casilio Vega decided to show them who was boss - he knew the subtle art of deception, which was his main trick.

He created a close circle of friends - they had his back and helped him brainwash the others.

All this was the meaning of his life. Casilio wanted to be above the rest - to satisfy his perverted sense of superiority. He wanted to be number one, but he didn't suffer from an inferiority complex - on the contrary he knew his price well.

Om Gur Nal couldn't measure up to his little finger, but he wasn't going to let things go like that.

Casilio Vega was born to rule. The filthy adventurer and brutal psychopath was proud of his achievements.

He had skinned more than one or two of his subordinates in an attempt to show his superiority and exceptional qualities.

There was no way he wasn't going to rise quickly and take power into his own hands. Soon he would have to deal with Om Gur Nal himself and could take over the entire power of the planet once and for all.

But sooner or later, his hubris would eat his head. Step by step he advanced towards his desired goal with the urgEncy of a true predator.

The people of Arthasan would show who they were! It was time for them to leave the harsh northern steppes where they rarely saw the sun and go where their qualities were valued.

The archaneans had told them a great thought - "Erano bifu amane sor intum zab!"[46]

Their archanean brethren lived for hundreds and hundreds of years and were well aware of how much shorter the lives of their human counterparts were and therefore understood that from their point of view it was different - as it should be.

The depth of the people's feelings for arthasan could have given rise to a new era of the so-called "blue spring" in which many still wanted to live and never leave.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX: THE PSYCHE OF A VICTOR

Hans did the demons' bidding in the clear knowledge that they would kill him once they got what they wanted. Well, they might throw a little dust in his eyes, but once they sensed weakness, they would crush him mercilessly.

The technical genius knew what was cooking. He'd been in Hell long enough to be aware that he wasn't going to get away with it at all.

Demons were very insidious, but the reality developed by Gad ‘Di Enn  and Om Gur Nal was of an entirely different nature. It was hard to imagine something as dangerous as her.

When he heard what he would get in return from Valak, he hastened to say thank you and then pretended to be struck dumb and did not ask for any delay in fulfilling his part of the bargain.

Deep down he knew his hours were numbered.

The payoff for his labor would be quite symbolic - a relaxed stay in Hell - something really important considering the fact that he would have to be there for quite a long time - almost an eternity.

The black hole could be closed, and Hans began to consider how that could be done through the fifth level of virtual reality.

Actually, although it was a crazy explanation, it made perfect sense.

Black holes could absorb anything, matter and antimatter, but virtual reality was neither.

By Hans' logic, certain anomalies appearing in that same virtual reality should be associated with the anomalous zone beyond the so-called event horizon. Once someone crossed the forbidden boundary, they would perish, but not if a demon was there.

The strange contraption wasn't particularly scientifically sound, but there was some justification as well, as long as it bought Hans some much needed time.

The problem was how