Готовый перевод Быть Гладу и Хладу / There will be Hunger and Cold: 0.
0. Picture of the life of a rat trapped in a maze
https://youtu.be/yTrwNTfooR8
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It is believed that you should always draw the "Dream Star" yourself, even if your hands are crooked, even if you have money for a professional painter or a stencil printout on a 3D printer. This is not just a superstition, but the result of meticulously collected statistics among all the sleepers of our home planet. Yes, a hand-drawn star, slightly, literally by half a percent, increases the effectiveness of the first dive and slightly increases the average value of the gifts received during it. Again, by that same half a percent that becomes noticeable only when processing very significant arrays of statistical data. Well, and it is also worth considering that usually those guys and girls who have taken the trouble to personally conduct even the most superstitious rituals, having learned about them in advance, are themselves prepared for the dive somewhat better than the average individual.
Ilya considered himself to be someone who had been preparing for something like this, if not all his life, but a very significant percentage of that life. He wanted to take some joy from that life. He also received a classic “earthly” profession quite honestly. Manuals, reading and sifting through the Forum, paid and free libraries, video lessons, and other interviews with famous divers - he absorbed all of this and greedily asked for more. He received his second education, received by correspondence, at the Faculty of Anomalous Reality Studies, and not at some bottom-feeding school, but at one of the British institutes. Here, it was not so much talent that worked as the opportunity to jump on a lucky train of a grant program. Europe, like the rest of the world, was always trying to lure promising divers, even if at the very beginning of their careers. When they were neither promising nor even divers, which, as is known, only one out of about thirty-five people can become.
And not everyone will want it, and if they do, they won’t remain that way for long.
"...as you might guess, the conflict between the two lovely communities was once again exhausted, ending, as always, with a pile of local corpses, the permanent death of several fighters from both sides, and, of course, a sharp decline in Essence supplies." Streamer, one of the most popular, if not the best, in the Broken news genre, did not hide his poisonous sarcasm. As in previous instances, the Assembly amicably condemned both the Jade Guardians and the Floating Sword, once again raising the issue of the legitimacy of the excessive use of sacrificial magic and mass cursing rituals fueled by the lives of Broken natives. Once again, their particular concerns were heard, and once again, they were ignored.
Well, it's not surprising that they ignored it. There are practically no kind classes in the Broken World, or nothing is heard about them. All paths to power, every single one, require either blood and sacrifice, the torment of service, or just look frankly creepy. The presence of the Forum and the Encyclopedia, of course, helps to find the most effective paths, preventing the Twin from going crazy under the pressure of his class. Actually, the number of those who have crossed the second level and the speed of pumping earthlings speak for themselves. The less blood, guts, and sacrifices, the more intact the head. It is difficult to go crazy on Earth. The Barrier protects the minds of those who have gone crazy there, in the Broken, but it is still not very pleasant to regularly live in the body of a cannibalistic creature that cannot even think coherently. Many, realizing what exactly their avatar does, or what is being done to this avatar, prefer to step under a magnetic train or out a window.
This does not change the fact, however, that no one but the Assembly gives a shit about crimes against the local population of the Broken, as long as the Essence is flow. And the Assembly doesn't give a shit either, they just can't say it out loud. The rejection of slavery, sacrifices, ritual torture to strengthen themselves, and a normal attitude towards the locals is the choice of each individual diver, supported by nothing but their decency. In fairness, the locals there will most often give any earthlings a head start in terms of cruelty, cold-bloodedness, and a bunch of blackness that they can bring down on a reviving diver who falls into their hands. Among them, there are also those who can revive, just usually not from the start, but already from about the third step. But it is precisely such people who can successfully devour a reviving earthling once and for all.
And do it regularly.
"Still divided in two, the once largest clan community in the Asian sector continues to multiply itself to zero in a haze of fumes and revelry. And if things continue this way, there will be not two, but four or even five parts, yes." Ilya agreed wholeheartedly with this ‘yes,’ for the Chinese, with their civil war within one of the five largest factions of the Broken, had considerably upset the balance among the politicians who had latched onto the Essence supplies, who now sensed not a slight heat under their asses, but a burning volcano. "Be that as it may, the Party had long since lost control over the leaders of the former Heavenly Way, who had moved to the Broken on a permanent basis, so threatening them with deprivation of their cat wives and rice bowls was not an option. Stock prices are falling, the price of Essence is rising again, and Chinese bigwigs are pouring money into the Endless Path, obviously intending to use these cats as replacements for their former favourites. It would seem, what does Israel have to do with this, right?"
The joke isn't funny because there is considerable suspicion that the rebellious part of the Path was financed by lovers of Matzah, Shabbat, and secret operations. Rumours that the Heavenly ones were on the verge of a split had been circulating since Ilya was a teenager, but until then, they had managed to coexist peacefully because it was more profitable. And then, suddenly, within a couple of years, they went from sluggish intrigues and behind-the-scenes squabbles to open conflict, nearly destroying the Heart of Rebirth, their stronghold. And then they did destroy it, splitting it into several much weaker parts. And there were more than two of those parts, which was the reason for the turmoil. Each mini-faction will obviously want to get its piece while the remains of the Heart are still full of power and can ensure the revival of those dying in battles for power over their former might. This epic slaughter has already been dubbed the new Three Kingdoms on the internet, and it would be funny if it weren't for the crisis-ridden political conflict in very earthly China, where different parts of the heavens were also supported.
Fortunately, they seemed to have the sense to leave alone those who refused to listen to their demands. They began to prepare a new faction. But damn it, it took them a good forty years to achieve their status, and they only did so when they managed to capture that very stronghold with the Heart, the Jade Palace, damn it. The endless called cats for a reason, two of their five leaders have cat blood, so they're definitely not pushovers. Even though they're not a purely Chinese guild, there are more Chinese than others, and the rest aren't too against integrating with the Party, especially with generous gifts. However, they still have fifteen years to grow before they reach the level of essence supply demonstrated by the Heavenly Ones in their worst cycles, and no subsidies can change that.
"...and now we can say with complete confidence that the appearance of the ninth officially confirmed fifth-level carrier has come to pass! Jurgis Matijonis, an honorary citizen of Europe, was finally able to complete his breakthrough and move from an already impressive Four to a Five. The changed video on the once again reformed YouTube turned out to be yet another rehash of already somewhat outdated news, although a couple of weeks ago, when the new level 5 was first announced, the hype was serious. "As you know, Mr. Yurges voluntarily posted most, if not all, of the information about his development on the Forum, so we can all admire what has become of our respected lover of cutting up dead bodies on the fifth step. For all those who have been in a coma for the last ten years, let me remind you that he started out as a very ordinary Grave Robber, reached the fourth level as a Peace Taker, and became... a true Master of Cemeteries. And, believe it or not, even after reaching the third level, our hero preferred to live on Earth literally within walking distance of the largest cemetery in Vilnius. Now he will probably move right into it."
Here, the announcer is either being honest or just showing how clueless he is. Transferring abilities from Broken to Reality doesn't work that way, otherwise, the world would be ruled by powered divers, not politicians. A smart one, not one who lost his fear after landing on Earth, could wreak havoc and devastate a couple of countries, especially if his upgrade is not in direct damage. In fact, seven such individuals once put Earth in a position of drinking deer. But no, except for the first ones who learned the Great Mechanism, the transfer of abilities lags by two and a half levels. The first and second levels on Earth will be the same as ordinary mortals, only with a reserve of Essence, but you can't use it for magic. The third level will only receive increased characteristics, according to the class sheet, but without active and passive skills. Superhuman, but not much more dangerous than a couple of soldiers with machine guns. And only at the fourth level will it be possible to obtain the abilities given to the diver at the first level, and at the fifth level, respectively, an analogue of the second level will be revealed.
It would seem that it is not that difficult, but even moving from the first level to the second takes about five to seven years of active or three to four years of very active levelling up. Reaching the top three is a feat in itself, which cannot be achieved before the age of fifteen using publicly known methods. And if there are non-public methods, they are not shared. Even for Earthlings' habit of pirating and distributing any information, there are certain limits. Again, most of these methods will raise your level, but they will also knock your roof off so that the diver will, in fact, be in the position of an observer. You dive in, come to your senses, realise what exactly you were doing during the cycle, throw up, go to a psychologist, and start praying for them to kill you off as soon as possible. Well, or maybe you're such a ghoul in real life that you actually enjoy this kind of thing, or at least you don't care. There are just under six hundred level 4s on the entire Earth, and only nine level 5s. Well, officially, but the Forum suspects that there are a couple more secretly levelled-up tops who are just being humble.
The second level on Earth is not yet a machine of destruction. A couple of special forces units, a helicopter, and a tank for dessert will be able to deal with such an enemy. But that's if they know where to look for you, what your class is, who you are, and all that. The Lithuanian who has reached the fifth level, for example, could, if he wanted to, go and kill, say, the President of the People's Republic of China, and he even has a chance of succeeding. So they will keep an eye on him, God forbid, but they won't kill him just to be on the safe side. And because it's not profitable. At his level, he brings a tremendous amount of Essence, though not as much as all the celestials in their current state combined. And because the Treaty will slap them on the wrist. The fifth level, specialising in contract magic, has done such a trick that anyone who has ‘taken the position of a ruling politician’ will think three times before doing something stupid. And no, as nearly eight decades of regular attempts have shown, simply appointing yourself to a new position and putting a puppet in the president's chair won't help. It will punish the one who has real power.
Ilya's interest in such topics was typical of a young fanatic dreaming of a magical world, adventures, and olo-lo-pysh-pysh, which filled all the branches of the Forum or Encyclopedia, which had very little idea of what a dive was. And how easy it was to swim out of that nirvana without the Twin, having experienced the constant death of the ‘game avatar’ and even losing the chance to return to the Broken World. To be fair, the topics of dives and the Broken World are very popular. There are a bunch of educational programmes, children's cartoons, and all sorts of things to maintain this popularity. The state, any state, needs a stable supply of the Essence, and therefore, it has never refused to provide additional incentives for the right choice. Politicians were not so quick to provide financial incentives, although, again, those who seek shall find.
Ilya was not a gangster kid or a golden boy in any sense, but he did get a сщгкыу at the London Anomaly Uni, didn't he? After all, the willingness to share information about the diving phenomenon and the Broken World itself, about classes and ranks, builds and metas, as well as all other things - this is one of the main strengths of humanity on Earth, making them those shameless imba. What on Earth can be learned with just a quick Google search, in other worlds, under the shadow of the Great Mechanism was considered literally a family secret, which would be passed on under an oath of lifelong loyalty only to the most beloved son or something like that. And no, this is not an exaggeration, or an exaggeration, but not too strong. It cannot be said that the Earth did not have a chance to slide into the same clan-aristocratic despotism with all its abominations, but earthlings were lucky. At the very least, the first seven of those who left, or rather the First Seven of the Departed, instead of squabbling for power over the world, managed to somehow unite and force the governments of that time to that very peace.
Well, there was the Treaty and the Law, the parade of coffins on gun carriages, dictatorship, and all that. A bunch of politicians had to be buried, in some countries two or even three times, before the new heads of those states realized that everything had changed. To this day, there are a bunch of theories about whether they managed to kill one of the Seven with a nuclear strike, whose location they supposedly managed to calculate and hit with a tactical nuclear weapon at an inconspicuous town in northern Canada? Or was it just a coincidence that after that explosion, a number of abilities were no longer used until the very departure of the entire Seven-Six? One thing was known for sure - not only those who commanded the missile launch died, but everyone involved, because this was the biggest blow to the opponents of "integration". Personally, Ilya believed that yes, they did finish them off, otherwise they would not have responded so harshly and frightened. But he didn’t argue with the fanatics of this group; there were individuals there who were so fanatical that Muslims couldn’t even stand up to them – they could even slash you with a knife.
And it is known for sure, the Encyclopedia confirms, that the First Ones are always removed from the world after a certain time, that they are no longer on Earth, that they are not gods, that prayers are of no particular use to them, and they do not assimilate those prayers. And still, there are still fanatics. It is not that Ilya did not share their worldview at all, he also valued the results of the Seven's work, thanks to which, even after almost eight decades, the Earth has not slipped into a world war, mass dictatorship, famine, epidemics, and constant brutality. Communication between divers and representatives of other civilizations has given so much that you begin to look at our native corruption, inequality, segregation that creeps in every now and then, brutal attitude towards citizens, and all that stuff a little differently.
Yes, it's really bad on Earth: overpopulation, unemployment, almost a fifth of the population living on minimum wage in nine-square-meter coffin apartments, constant lawlessness of the authorities, and rampant criminal gangs in poor and poorly controlled areas. But it could have been worse, and in most worlds it is much worse. The unemployed were not disposed of, overpopulation did not cause famine, the criminals were still afraid to behave too demonstratively and did not break into power, and the presence of the Internet and a bunch of primitive and not so virtual entertainment allowed those living on welfare in nine square meters to at least lead some kind of life, and not just gradually turn into vegetables. Obviously, the authorities only supported this opinion, like, there's no point in organizing another rally here, have you even heard how in Sarsha-Nera the dissatisfied are hanged on crosses without skin? Exactly, better keep quiet about it. If it weren’t for the still-active shackles of the Treaty, they would have done something like this a long time ago.
Well, that's what Ilya thought and there's no way to convince him otherwise.
The chalk carefully draws another mark on the wooden floor of the inherited apartment, the twelfth and last. They are easy to draw, and minor mistakes almost never affect the result. The essence of the Star of Dream is not in magic; it does not carry any magic at all, but simply opens the soul of the person who drew it and then fell asleep in that line to the Great Mechanism. Then the mechanism itself does the work. The main thing is to start it. Even savages from the Stone Age can manage that. The Great Mechanism appeared to Earthlings at the beginning of the twenty-first century, but in other worlds it may have arrived in the Middle Ages or the local analogue of Antiquity. And no Essence can help to bridge such a gap. It is only a tool, which, without a scientific picture of the world and without the initial desire to use it correctly, will not help in any way.
"...tariffs for Essence transmission could cause another delay in the twelfth floating metropolis project, which is already pretty controversial. After all, the eleven existing floating megacities already place an excessive burden on the ocean ecosystem, despite the use of Essential Technologies to maintain ecological balance." What a coincidence, just what he was thinking, which is why Ilya almost made an extra line in the closing outer circle. "The German Ministry of Industry has once again stated that the pause in the project is only temporary, as was the case with the seventh or fifth, but, my dear listeners, back then the tariffs did not fluctuate so wildly..."
Essence itself is not witchcraft or magic; it cannot be used to throw fireballs or crash the earth, but it can create. Not only and not so much matter, no. It can create knowledge. Let's say you have a new project for a cure for Alzheimer's disease, but the project itself is only a draft, and there are no clinical trials yet. But you, a scientist and a doctor, by hook or by crook, obtain it yourself, get your request approved, or even purchase a certain amount of Essence through third parties. Then you make a wish and go to sleep. By morning, you will have a ready-made formula for the drug with all the specifics, and a ready-made clinical chart on your computer's hard drive. This formula will be as effective as possible! Perfect and polished to perfection, as long as there is enough Essence.
The very Essence that divers use to level up in the Broken World, and every time they get one point of Essence there, they bring the same point back here with them. The bottom line is that the more levelled up a diver is, the more actively they level up their level and talents, the more Essence they transfer to the real world. In fact, if it weren't for Essence, humanity would surely have destroyed itself, if not in a global war, then through famine and overpopulation, compounded by an ecological crisis. As a result, states have to hunt for essence, which can be used for almost anything if there is enough of it, because in significant quantities it also creates materials. Not paper money, although in theory this is possible, but you'll be shocked by the prices for such counterfeiting, namely materials. A piece of pure Californium? A warm superconductor? An element that does not exist in the periodic table?
Calculations for the creation of new multi-storey buildings and residential complexes over half a kilometre high, the creation of new plant varieties that keep agriculture afloat and prevent even the slightest threat of famine, the constant creation of new vaccines, and a space programme that is already in its third wave of colonisation in five lunar megacities. All this was possible only thanks to the essence and its direct influence on reality. To create an idealised version of the initially bare idea of the project, then to help find even the most scarce materials, including those that do not physically exist on the planet, and finally, protection from fools. To ensure that there are no loose bolts in the assembled rocket, that there are no unexpected bugs in the new programme, and that the new variety of cold-resistant wheat will definitely take root in the new soil.
New gold of the new world, damn.
The last line of the drawing fell into place, followed by a check of the star, and finally, it was possible to straighten one's back and breathe a little. And turn off the speakers, from which conspiracy theories about the tough Lithuanian poured out again. No, he had already read about him on the Forum and in the Encyclopedia, since he had indeed shared a significant part of his secrets. After all, when transported to the Broken World, divers most often find themselves infinitely far from each other. No community that has obtained its Heart of Rebirth has yet encountered earthlings from other communities or even familiar geographical names. Or rather, there have been coincidences, but they are just that — coincidences. And the groups of earthlings or otherworlders themselves... well, they are not particularly large — usually three to eight people, which is considered a full combat group.
If they got along well, then that's not bad, yes. But more than three-quarters of divers are loners. Either they didn't get along, were thrown into solitary sailing from the start, or chose that sailing themselves. Or the Broken World chewed up and killed the rest of their supposed groupmates. Without a Heart, it's very easy to find your final death. Two or three deaths to deplete your initial reserves of life-saving essence, and then that's it. Your last life, and welcome back to the mortals. Many are happy about this because living alone in the Broken World is hard, scary, often disgusting, and almost always very exhausting. It's a different matter if you get into the Citadel — without a doubt the largest faction of earthlings in the Broken World, and an international one at that. It has long been considered something of a small country, especially given the many lands under its control and the legions of subjects among the local population. Nearly nine thousand divers from Earth, another thousand or so aliens who have joined them, and four of the nine fifth-level bearers.
But not just anyone was invited or accepted there. The competition for a place in the Citadel was fierce, and Ilya couldn't get in. Or rather, he could. He had a degree, a bunch of courses and certificates, and he was constantly studying tables, codes, records about the history of the Broken, and all that stuff. He could have tried to get in, to become part of the only organisation of divers among all the currently known worlds that could train newcomers to the third level on a permanent basis. Yes, not everyone, only the most talented, and not without some rough edges, but the fact itself! The barrier between the second and third levels in all other worlds of the Great Mechanism is considered extremely difficult and highly individual, requiring a unique solution. And the earthlings? They have regularly updated metas, build typology, talent classification, and calculation tables. Any diver aiming to become a pro thinks through several options for their build in advance, even before the first Star of Dreams. Then all that remains is to take into account the effect of the gifts received and choose the appropriate class from those offered, since it has long been calculated how to provoke the appearance of certain classes among the options.
Well, after the story of Yurius, probably a lot of people rushed to work part-time in the morgue or as cemetery guards, and now everyone who is not too lazy is mastering all sorts of Tibetan and not-so-Tibetan meditations. There is a high chance of getting a useful perk for free at the "birth" of a Twin. Ilya will most likely get one. Perhaps more than one. Which only increases his chances of getting on the list of newcomers to the Citadel. But he still will not get there. Because he will not even apply, yes. He will not at all, if possible, report that he went through the Star. This is not approved by the authorities, but they do not dare to forbid it, just as they do not dare to force the disclosure of Identity, Status list, and Gifts. Another point of the Treaty, may the Dead Gods protect all Seven, wherever they are now. Having cast a critical eye over his drawing, Ilya changed into warm PJs, put on thick woolen socks, an expensive thing, natural, almost status, and then lay down in the center of the drawn figure, quickly falling asleep. No, it was not the figure that put him to sleep; some newbies toss and turn in it for hours. He was just tired and worn out. Nerves, again, tormented him, and in his case, nerves always made him want to either eat or sleep. And he had already finished his dinner, yes. There were no images or psychedelic moments in the dream, like with everyone else. If you dreamed of some kind of turbidity in the Star of Dreams, you need to take pills and not look for higher meanings. At the very first contact, the figure makes a mark on the soul of the diver, and for full initiation, you need to wait for the beginning of a new cycle - another eighteen days, that's it.
And so that night Ilya simply sleeps.
Like a marmot.
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The morning began with the second of his life's visions from the Mechanism: he learned in an instant, clearly and without ambiguity, that his attempt to touch the Broken World was successful, and in the next cycle, he would be able to create a Twin. That is, choose a class, look through the gifts, scatter the first talents, and then run to the adventure. Going to the Forum again, he saw a ticking timer on the title page, which was now ticking in his head. The cycle begins at midnight Greenwich Mean Time. It is recommended to lie down and relax, because you, a young or not-so-young diver, will be knocked out for three or four hours. In which case, from a week to a month or two will pass in the Broken World, and you can never guess how long exactly. In rare cases, it is possible to find out how long the cycle will be. This information will also be posted on the Forum, but this does not happen very often. However, this information is also of no particular use. It is still impossible to drag anything from Earth to Broken.
The shortest cycle, they say, was nine and a half hours long, and the longest took three years, which is why a considerable number of divers stared at the ceiling for a long time after waking up, since they did not immediately recognize their surroundings and those around them. What can I say? The very essence of the Great Mechanism does not allow earthlings to go crazy from what they experienced in the avatar body, otherwise, their entire pumping would have long ago rolled into anarchy. A good quarter of the Twins lost their marbles, and the rest also changed in accordance with their classes. Without a barrier between consciousnesses, there would be such a mess that it's sickening to even think about it.
"...They took away our sky! They took away our god! They took away our faith! We are like chickens in a henhouse, dumb and submissive, obediently laying eggs for our masters!" Another broadcast by another bunch of fanatics, only these ones are really aggressive, sometimes they even stage terrorist attacks, not just interrupting news broadcasts, but their ideology lives on anyway. "Come to your senses, people, that's what I'm asking! Come to your senses and don't be led by them, leave their cursed world and go touch the grass, you stupid degenerates!"
The last sentence, about grass, was so out of character for a typical orthodox Muslim that Ilya almost choked on his fruit paste, giggling like an idiot. Well, another reason to turn off the broadcast and watch something on the Forum, something useful, not just another news report. There, it seems, Nikhil was supposed to post a new summary of transcriptions of one of the theurgical dead languages of the Broken. Maybe there will be something funny? Although, okay, if it's really funny, he'll sell it for money, and it will only end up on the forum after one of the buyers leaks the decrypted text... or Nikhil himself posts it. He sometimes does that. The orthodox's cries left an unpleasant aftertaste, largely because he is entirely right, and no one even tries to hide it.
In fact, what the video terrorist said is written on the front page of the Encyclopedia and Forum, without embellishment, propaganda, or hypocrisy. Those who created the Great Mechanism are so far above trying to justify themselves to savages that it's not even funny. Anyone with a working computer, phone, or tablet can go to the Forum and read this appeal. Even if your phone battery is dead and your computer is not connected to the network and has never been connected, technology here is simply a point of contact with direct manipulation of reality at a deep quantum level. In worlds where there is no technology, the Forum with the Encyclopaedia can be summoned on the surface of a mirror, in the middle of the pages of absolutely any book, or simply by drawing it in the sand. Each world has its method, but it always works. If the Earth were to burn in a nuclear fire and if some people survived, then Earthlings would have an easier method that does not require working technology.
This is precisely how the technologies of the Ancient Ones function, indistinguishable from transcendent chthonic sorcery. The Ancient Ones, who in their time seized power throughout the entire visible universe, in all worlds and derivatives of those worlds. They seized and ruled there with a firm hand and wise decisions, indeed. Incidentally, precisely because the Ancient Ones were also humanoid in build, virtually all intelligent life in the universe is also humanoid in one form or another. No, they did not create humans and human-like beings, as if they were gods from the Bible. It's just that their existence distorted the picture of reality, and evolution in a bunch of worlds adjusted itself so that humans, or rather humanoids, would be the crown of it. Most often, they are almost the same as Earthlings, only living in other worlds, on other planets.
Also, the Ancient Ones were quite boring to repair the universe, or so they say. But it is unlikely that such powerful beings would have any reason to lie about this detail. According to them, conveyed in perfectly understandable letters in the native language of those who read the Forum, young civilisations sooner or later either killed themselves, started killing each other, or even tried to bare their teeth at the Ancient Ones themselves. They got fed up with this and created Physics. That is, they literally created it. By their will, such nonsense as the speed limit of light, the gravitational well of planets that prevents cosmic expansion, appeared; they distorted the metrics of reality so that it became impossible to create portals between layers of worlds, violate the laws of conservation of energy, and so on.
All those things that Earthlings learned in school, and scientists discovered in their scientific works — all of this is literally a cage for disobedient children, who now sit in the corner and cannot leave the sandbox. And so that children don't get bored and starve to death when the planet's resources run out, the Great Mechanism and a bunch of Game Worlds were created. A way to obtain essence and sustain civilization until it either reaches utopia, moves to the game world completely, or quietly and peacefully ceases to exist in internal conflict or demographic crisis. The Ancient Ones will settle for any option, as long as they don't mess up the backyard. To mess, you savages, there is a whole pen where some of the restrictive laws don't work, and you can use what seems like magic to savages.
The Broken World is not the only one. There are many such enormous super-worlds, each larger than several galaxies. It's just that Earthlings got Broken, a world that was originally very inhospitable and, judging by its history, has also survived several dozen apocalypses, breaking down even further. And perhaps, originally, that place was more pleasant. Each of the super-worlds has its history, its system, its everything, and once every four and a half thousand Earth years, the game world changes for each of the connected planets. If Ilya lives another six hundred years, he will even see what the Ancient Ones create there, besides the Broken One.
Now, no one even knows whether the Ancient Ones still exist or not. There are many theories that they once played these “games,” leaving traces of their presence and will in the Broken One. Once upon a time. Not now. Perhaps they have long since died out or perished in an internal conflict. And only their project of watching over the stupid savages continues to live, to exist, to draw new and new worlds into its depths, giving the blessing of the Great Mechanism to the next savages. It's a depressing point of view, but when you read about the fun things happening in Broken, even without the help of Earthlings, only by the efforts of the local population, you can't help but realize that there may well be a grain of truth in such a theory.
He tries not to think about it too much, otherwise the image of a rat trapped in a maze in the middle of a long-abandoned laboratory becomes too depressing.
To work, he still had to work, otherwise, his credit and social rating would drop, followed by the risk of being classified as a Welfare Recipient, he would take the bus that passed right by his house, as usual. Ilya did not enjoy his job, not at all, but he still valued it. And not only because he did not want to become a Welfare Recipient. Such a downgrade is not the end of the world, and it is still possible to get back to being a full-fledged citizen, but it will take a lot of nerves and effort. This is mainly due to the epic difficulties with paperwork, or rather, with digital bureaucracy, because bureaucracy now rules the world almost as much as the Essence. Most of the troubles of social WR are that living this way is so boring that you could howl like a wolf. Even the poorest homeless person in Africa now has access to healthy and nutritious food, the internet provides a lot of free and relatively free entertainment, and the benefits they receive are definitely enough to pay for utilities and still have a little left over.
It's just the life of a vegetable.
But Ilya didn’t want to be a vegetable.
Well, if he manages to gain a foothold in Broken, he could quit his official job, since even the newest divers will be gladly given certain social benefits, but don't quit your work and pump Essence. Pump, bitches, as if you don't know how to do shit anymore! Some, characteristically, really don't know how to do anything else.
"Good morning." A short greeting, equally laconic answers from different sides of the office 'open space', which has been permanently ruling the layout of buildings for many decades. "What are the tasks for today?"
"The tables, Ilya, the tables with the project costs for Malenkov, he called personally, reminded me, and asked me not to delay." The head of their small department of seven people was a relatively normal man, so he always assigned the most difficult tasks not to one person, but to everyone in turn, except himself, of course. "This time it's your turn, so fill it out, man, fill it out and cry. Want some coffee or an energy drink right away?"
"It's better just not to interfere, Gosh." Ilya answered honestly, not wanting to further damage his cardiovascular system, which was already weak from birth. "If you hear me screaming and cursing, pretend that it's the ghost of a brutally tortured clerk moaning, and that I was never here."
After laughing together at the usual joke and paying the customary compliment to Sonya's new hair colour, which she dyed every twelve days in another eye-watering shade, Ilya sat down in his chair and set to work. In general, given the increase in the Earth's population and the widespread automation of many processes, the government of the United Europe tried to artificially create as many tasks as possible involving the shuffling of papers. This was so that people would have something to do and something to strive for, so they would not lie around like amoebas in their coffin-like apartments. Options such as widespread chemical sterilisation of the lower classes, birth control, forced administration of drugs that suppress will and ambition, and other George Orwell-style darkness were not considered by the authorities. Oh, no, they would have been considered, but, damn it, the Treaty.
Personally, Ilya had long since delegated most of the work to either purchased, custom-made, or completely self-written scripts, which filled in all kinds of tables exclusively on their own, without his participation. But there were some exceptions. Those tasks that Malenkov sent personally. The old man was from another version of the orthodox, who believed in the nobility and piety of manual, persistent, and stubborn labour, which cannot be spoiled by all kinds of scripts and automation. Only manual labour can prove man's right to rise above the machine! That is why Malenkov sends all files under his personal control in a special format that does not allow the use of typical automation tools. Or rather, it does allow it, but then the tables are deliberately filled in incorrectly and with corrupted information.
It's not hard to guess that Malenkov spent a lot of money on regularly updating his programmes. Unfortunately, he was a buyer for God, Satan, and the Dead Gods of the Broken World, for which he was forgiven for almost any eccentricity as long as he worked normally. Obviously, it was possible to bypass the block on such files, just as it was possible to simply copy these files, do everything normally, and then enter the information back. It was equally obvious that Ilya was not going to talk about it. If Gosha didn't report him, then Maxim, who didn't like Ilya personally, would. And all because of that stupid bet, even though no one had forced him to make the bet, and Ilya didn't even want to bet.
While the programme was filling in the table according to the specified guidelines, Ilya browsed the internet a little, checked the latest news, and visited the Forum again. Incidentally, visits to the Forum are not tracked and leave no traces in the browser history, so the only way to detect a fan of Broken is by a sudden pause in work, when the computer appears to be completely inactive. On the most famous planetary board, everything was exactly the same as always. Someone asked how to quickly level up a fifth-level mage with mass spells in a couple of months, rather than fifty years, while someone else was more down-to-earth, interested in a method for levelling up several skills characteristic of a Marauder. Someone offered to sell for real money a description of a very cool build that was guaranteed to make you an imba, risking an automatic ban from the forum systems... or rather, having already been banned.
There was much discussion about the death and destruction of one of the relatively large groups of Earth divers who had their own Heart. Twenty-one people under the command of an elderly Japanese man who had long since left Earth. The event was ordinary, but the Japanese grandfather, although ‘only’ third level, was known on Earth for starting to play at the age of eighty-one, successfully diving, and managing to arrange a warm place to live. It is not surprising that he moved to the Broken World on a permanent basis. There, his body rejuvenated and became completely obedient again. And now, after an additional twenty years of active life, the old man ceased to exist. A typical situation for such groups. Conflict with the local population, another wave of creatures rushing through the wild lands, lack of support from the very locals who had sent the creatures to the fortress with the Heart. And when they managed to fight off the mindless chthonic creatures, the elite guard of the local ruler arrived, knowing perfectly well how to kill those who could be resurrected.
Part of the group retreated and, now deprived of the Heart of Rebirth and relying only on their depleted personal reservoirs of Essence, fled with their tails between their legs as far away as possible. Some were unable to retreat, ending their lives in very unpleasant ways, while Old Oday stood over the Heart until the very end, defending it until the last moment. In fact, he could not escape, if we are to believe his profile in the Encyclopedia and the articles he wrote himself. Grandpa did not quite fairly attain the third level, following the well-trodden, albeit controversial, path of merging with the Heart of Rebirth in exchange for a leap upwards. Yes, he jumped, but the power was not entirely his, and the samurai's life turned out to be inextricably linked to the Heart. Its demise would have wiped out his character anyway, and the old man's real body has long since been eaten by worms.
"Look, Ilyusha, can I ask you for advice on diving? You're into all that, I remember?" Unlike Sonya, Maria's style was not acid-colored, but completely conservative, a sort of gray mouse. "The question is not for me, but for my friend, she's one of those who dive. She recently tried it, to dive, I mean. For the first time, it seems she got into a real mess. Yesterday, I spent half the night calming her down, she was hysterical."
"Ask a question, if I know, I'll answer. If I don't know, then at least I'll tell you where to look." The man did not hide his hobby completely intentionally, in order to hide much more important details, even dangerous ones, behind the interest of a typical nerd, despite all the Agreements and rights to private pumping. "Well, I'll tell you relatively specifically, and not just 'on the forum'."
"My friend, in short, she fell into slavery." Maria hesitated, but nevertheless answered and, judging by the way she looked away, slavery there was accompanied by all the classic forms of violence. "To very serious bastards, it seems."
"Bastards from the locals? Do you have an approximate cultural code ID for the faction?" The situation is actually quite standard. Divers, especially earthlings, are all beautiful, as are local class bearers, which is why the demand for such exotics is always high, and slave markets will do anything for profit, not just tie up a newbie diver. "Conditions of detention, security, and control method? Come on, don't force me to pull it all out with pliers. If you need to, call her. I have lunch soon, let her tell it herself."
The last piece of advice had to be followed, because Masha herself was not so well versed in the topic, but she managed to calm her friend down so that she would not cry into the phone, but would answer the questions. The situation was so classic that he even wanted to use his facepalm, but he held back with all his might. The novice Warlock, a build for mixed damage with an emphasis on the cursed flame, was forced to start in a solo playthrough, since no one's Heart attracted her. Somehow she managed not to die in the first days, successfully got to the city, received a job offer, showed up at the meeting place, and, bitch, fuck, fucking hell, how stupid newbies can be, agreed to share a table with a respectable nobleman who offered her said table. In a cultural code that gave off ominous Arabic notes! In the caliphate district, where the churches of the fortunately now dead Elder Father officially stood! Where a woman without a man is not considered a rational being at all, and here she is also an outsider, impudent, and not knowing the rules of conduct!
Naturally, she passed out quietly and peacefully from the sleeping pill she had taken intragastrically, waking up in black iron shackles, in a prison, and under the gaze of the not-so-respectable nobleman and his retinue, who asked her in an extremely satisfied tone to be obedient and good, otherwise they would force the Worldly Truth into her. And they did, right up until the very end of the cycle, they did! In general, it’s very good that madness doesn’t pass through worlds, and stress and other experiences cut pretty badly. Here, even the girl’s hysteria is more from the fact that she imagined herself. The most important thing is that she didn’t get caught by a top-class professional, but by some amateur woodpeckers. If it had been a matter with a professional, he would have simply washed his hands of it, there’s no escape, get ready to watch an adult movie with yourself as the main role. But even so, Ilya, who was barely holding back, had his eye twitching by the middle of his retelling, and by the end, half of his face was twitching.
"So-o-o-o. Okay. Okay. You're Warlock, build according to the precepts of Ardor, for flame... well, listen up." Rubbing his eyes and looking at his watch, where there were still twenty minutes left of the lunch break, and he still hadn't eaten, Ilya cursed his kindness and other people's stupidity again. "I'll put together a set of links. There will be advice. You'll read them, those articles were written by smart guys, they understood the topic of escaping from slavery in Broken better than I. Now I'll tell you this. You'll definitely have to die once. The rebirth point, if you don't have a Heart, will be somewhere nearby, maybe in the city, maybe a little to the side. They shackled you in black iron; that's a real classic. The collar, if you were right about its weight and color, is also one of the simple ones. Scratch your fingers until they bleed, then draw a ritual line. You didn't deviate from the build, did you take Drawing as a skill? Then close the line with blood right on the shackles and, if you can reach it, over the collar. If you're really sure of yourself, then hold on until their leader comes to you.
"And then what?" The puzzled question again causes Ilya to have a nervous tic, because, bitch, you're literally starting a second life in the world of dark fantasy, can't you fucking prepare properly and just read a stack of manuals?
"Then you activate the Ignition and immediately after the Flash." Wearily and doomedly, he reveals the obvious, the literal base, which a novice Warlock, pumping the Ardor build, must know by heart even if you wake her up in the middle of the night. "You have no magical powers, but life remains in your veins, the blood will serve as an activator and, since the spells will immediately begin to suck the life force, then you will definitely not give a damn about simple black iron. But it will not release magic beyond the body, so you will become an anchor and an amplifying ritual, a victim and a sacrificer at the same time. Triple duplication, amplification, and an order of magnitude. It will flare up as if a bunch of thermobaric grenades exploded in your apartment."
His throat was dry, he wanted to drink, and he wanted to eat even more. He could only hope that no one would hold him accountable if he decided to eat right at his workplace. On the other hand, even if they did, it wouldn't be for moments like these. Helping an earthling get out of the shit in Broken was considered good manners and was usually not frowned upon, even if you did it during working hours, and not at lunch. True, it would be better for the girl to go not to the shady Ilya, who was literally her friend's colleague, but to a special assistance center, where such services are provided to divers absolutely free of charge. But then she would have to name her class, build, and also admit that she did not register when she was initiated. There would be a lot of trouble later, not to mention the shame and all that.
"When you are reborn, first of all snatch clothes somewhere, then cover your face and get out of there faster than a squeal. And read the Worldly Truth, damn you, it is clearly visible through the lines how crazy the caliphs are, even our Muslims do not stand next to them." He finishes his instructions, hoping that the captive will listen to the advice of not the most stupid expert of the Broken, first of all, having studied the links given to her. Fortunately, she still has many days before the beginning of the cycle. "If you need to directly communicate with them. Do not be so stupid anymore and behave within the limits. Or immediately get ready to rip out their nostrils, but for this you need to be not a first-level newbie, but at least a Two or a One who has pumped up the main talents."
Without listening to the thanks from the receiver and stoically accepting Maria's hugs, including a hot peck on his slightly unshaven cheek, Ilya ran back to the computer. Otherwise, Malenkov will notice he was not there and the table was filling itself. Then he slowed down, turned around, and still took a couple of containers with lunch in the cafeteria, otherwise, his stomach was demanding its own. The story of the eighteen-year-old brat, who got into trouble almost exclusively and only because of her stupidity, had already flown out of his head. He would definitely not get into such crap, but he had a much better chance of finding himself in much more dangerous problems, and it was too late to back out, he had already lain in the Star of Dreams.
It's not like he wanted to back up at all.
* * *
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http://notabenoid.org/book/88055/588412
Переводчики: Camrad_RIP
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