Быть Гладу и Хладу / There will be Hunger and Cold: 20. Это вполне в рамках местной морали – прогнешься раз, потом станут прогибать всю оставшуюся жизнь

20. This is completely within the framework of local morality - you bend once, then they will bend you for the rest of your life

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 07:00

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Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 06:59

Obviously, he didn’t use the Hour he’d been given right away. He pretended he hadn’t received anything, didn’t know any ++Elea, and hadn’t participated in any tournaments. Unless, of course, you count the children’s drawing contest he won by a landslide among the clients of the Central European Bank in the southern part of the metropolitan area where he lived. The drawing of a vicious, predatory moose by a boy named Ilya, aged thirty-three, is still framed somewhere, having beaten the twelve-year-old girl who took second place by more than a three-to-one margin—a girl whose parents had sent her to some art school with a reputation that was practically world-renowned.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 07:02

In short, Ilya decided to stick to his tried-and-true tactic: lie low and keep an eye on his surroundings. This tactic had always come through for him and his crew, if only because he was the first to spot the patrol that had arrived in response to the commotion caused by yet another brawl started by Baldy. The net was simply bursting, as was his contact list; many clients on his “whitelist”—who had generously paid for Ilya’s services in the past—were also reaching out with their offers and problems. Ilya had no time for them. He was completely absorbed in his own thoughts. The most important of these was the realization that he couldn’t get caught now, or he won't get off the hook.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 07:05

Given his build, the Treaty’s protection will most likely not stop the detectives from meddling in his life. This is actually a standard situation for the Treaty. The more your build veers toward the cinematic, and the closer you are to being able to bring the build to Earth, the less the Treaty’s aspects will cover you. They don’t cover for you at all. They act on Humanity itself, and idiots like that usually haven’t been human for a long time. Not by the time their Twin reaches the fourth step and drags part of themselves to Earth.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 07:08

Actually, nothing particularly scary or dangerous happened. His mind’s defenses work just as well here as they do there. They’re tied to the soul’s inherent qualities, not to specific talents or even his Lot. Well, let’s say he has an unlimited and constantly replenishing ++Hour of Power? Well, as long as Elea Walt doesn’t change her mind about considering him a friend and doesn’t revoke her blessing. So what? There have been numerous unofficial and official estimates showing clearly that there are a number of unregistered Fours on Earth. And on top of that, a Fiver, which was also possible, though certainly not known for sure.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 07:11

Ilya mechanically ate yet another fruit paste for breakfast while juggling several chat windows at once. He replied to Irina to set up a meeting, confirmed the temporary switch to remote work (read: just forget about everything, stop pretending to be busy, and take a break) with his boss, set a time to talk with Magnus the Crocodile, and politely turned down a few paying clients, citing the fact that he was already working on his next order. It would be downright rude to turn down yet another group. Some of the messages were automatically blocked by the Forum’s filters on Ilya’s blog before the diver even had a chance to reply.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 10:30

It seemed like he hadn’t done a thing, yet the whole morning had flown by; the sun was at its zenith, and he had a free day ahead of him with pretty decent weather. It wasn’t that Ilya had stopped using the Forum altogether or given up on gathering information; rather, he simply wanted to wait it out, taking his time. Reading a high-quality summary put together by professionals and verified by the Forum is way more enjoyable than messing around with creating that summary yourself. No way—he’d get to processing the information closer to nightfall, letting his colleagues dig through the crap themselves. It’s a pleasure for them. He judges by himself, and he’s hardly ever wrong in his judgment.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 10:36

Getting to the meeting place turned out to be easy, though Ilya couldn’t help but notice several patrols along the way. Many had been sent out onto the streets to maintain order, which had been threatened by such upheavals. That said, the law enforcement officers weren’t particularly aggressive. Well, not in the decent neighborhoods. At most, they scanned passing cars, requesting information about the driver through the onboard system, but they didn’t demand that anyone stop. He arrived, in short, without any particular problems, only to find himself immediately squeezed into the arms of a diver beaming with self-satisfaction, who was just about ready to lift him up in the air.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 10:39

A couple of minutes of hugs and another round of thanks for helping them prepare for the tournament, and then they headed to their usual spot, the one where Irina’s friend had saved them a table. It was hardly surprising, given how the whole world had been swept up in a mix of celebration and anxious anticipation. Finding a spot anywhere else would have been nearly impossible—well, unless you were willing to pay a reasonable price, and even then, it wasn’t a sure thing. At that same ill-fated Split Coin, the very one reserved for only the most skilled divers, things nearly came to blows when the Venetians clashed with the Gentle Ones. That is, the Central European wing of the “Venetian Pact” against the equally Central European delegation of the “Gentle Sun.”

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 10:42

Neither guild was among the largest, but neither was at the very bottom. Both were highly respected. Both wanted to relax and had no desire to listen to claims that there was only one free hall left—even with a reservation, even with a triple prepayment. The Citadel divers stepped in to break it up; they, too, had absolutely no desire to spoil their own holiday by watching someone else’s fight. Well, when one of the Earthen Fives personally came down and politely asked what the matter was, the fight somehow fizzled out on its own. As a gesture of reconciliation, both groups entered the hall reserved by the Citadel representatives, since they had bought the space with plenty to spare. In the end, instead of the threat of a fight involving the physical force of several third-level divers, a splendid truce was achieved.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 10:48

Both guilds have already issued public apologies, and the ringleaders just as publicly downed a glass of a special cocktail in a toast of brotherhood. The Third Step's drink—while not a deadly poison to the average person—is extremely dangerous. Half a shot glass is enough to send a grown man to a hospital bed. A full shot glass will land him on the intensive care table. These extremely rare bottles, often processed by Alchemists, are very expensive and prestigious; they are opened only upon presentation of an official document certifying attainment of the Third Degree and a complete waiver of all claims. Of course, you can also buy it, both officially and on the black market, but the biggest show off is considered to be drinking it right in the Split Coin, in order to visually flaunt your superiority over other upright folk.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 11:00

Ilya just laughed at that kind of advertising, which was clearly paid for by the authorities. It’s literally a necessity to flaunt one’s status and rank, just to make a particularly flashy entrance. In his opinion, it’s a perfectly legitimate and natural ploy. After all, if the Third Step is so eager to stand out and prove its exceptionalism to everyone that it’s willing to go public just for the sake of a public binge at a superclub, then that type never had a chance to hide its true nature as a diver from the authorities in the first place. And those who never intended to hide it are now enjoying the fruits of their labor.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 11:07

If Ilya hadn't been a participant and winner of the Lottery, he would have switched to official divers simply for the benefits and tax breaks.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 11:08

Getting back to more down-to-earth topics. There was no fight at the Coin. Meanwhile, a couple of unregistered, unofficial divers were happily spending time at a more down-to-earth spot. The kitchen at the diner is naturally swamped. The main dining area is packed to the brim. Delivery people—both human and bot—have practically formed a pilgrimage to the pickup window. Ilya, by the way, always used bots. The human ones mostly specialized in deliveries to the slums. There, a robot could easily be damaged or stolen, with no regard for beacons or decorative armor. In social-class neighborhoods, most decent establishments either don’t use couriers or hire agencies there.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 11:19

This provides socialization and employment opportunities for the local population. The couriers there are locals; they might even fire a homemade stun gun or a needle gun themselves if they run into a particularly dangerous thug. Thoughts about the hardships of being a courier—a job that in this day and age can literally be considered social work, created solely to ensure there are jobs at all, otherwise they’d have been replaced—didn’t prevent him from listening intently to Irina, who was gushing like a songbird, at times nearly choking with emotion.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 11:25

"...and anyway, I’ve got seven! Seven! Se-e-e-e-ven! Seven wins, seven times seven drops! Forty-nine, for the dive! I’m just amazing! I’m cooler than Iron Yadviga! Cooler than Aurora, Angelica, and Echidna all rolled into one!" Well, she’s obviously embellishing here, because those ladies used to manage to earn a comparable number of drops per Cycle even at the first step and without any tournaments, especially Iron, since her Citadel bumps up her, but Ilya won’t say that out loud—he’s not his own enemy. "Phew! It still hasn’t let go, even now! Can you imagine..."

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 11:30

Listening for the third time to her recap of her adventures at the tournament—which now sounded more like a coherent retelling than a disjointed string of exclamations—Ilya admitted with a touch of bitterness that the tournament’s difficulty had clearly been ramped up for all the “cheaters” with their lottery gimmicks. Otherwise, those winners would have steamrolled through the tournament like a military-grade armored assault vehicle. Irina’s first opponent turned out to be a Warlock who had completely lost his mind due to desynchronization. She didn’t even kill him; she just drove him into a rage with a couple of phrases, and he burned down the building where they were fighting, along with himself.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 11:36

The second one was simply a terrible fighter, and a lousy Charmancer to boot, while the arena turned out to be just that—an arena, a relatively small, stone-walled chamber with no ventilation and no way out. To be fair, a good Charmancer can find a way to surprise a Warlock even in close combat, but this one wasn’t good. He actually tried to block “Bonfire” with a simple “Air Whirlwind.” Set to pull! The whirlwind, having absorbed all the flames, successfully spat them out—mixed up and unstable—right at the opponent’s feet, which ended the fight. The finishing blow from the girl, who had been cautious until the very end, was simply an act of mercy and compassion, for the man was screaming terribly.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 12:21

The third one she encountered was an Avignonite—quite competent, capable of fighting, but, alas, an Assassin without thermal camouflage. The Fiery Warlock could see her signature in two different aspects, since thermal vision is one of the main sensory methods for her build, so she didn’t let the otherworlder get close and burned her with napalm. Or rather, with “Ignition by Will,” setting the forest in which they were fighting ablaze more fiercely with every passing hour. And then she simply forced her opponent to come out and face her in direct combat, blocking the only path away from the fire. In that battle, Irina had her abdomen ripped open and would most likely have died from the poison, but she burned the Avignonite’s head to the bone, with flames raging in her eye sockets, so Irina was awarded the victory.

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 12:23

"She’s a normal one. We had a nice chat right from the start and agreed beforehand that there’d be no hard feelings while we were standing on the platforms, right before the fight. I was telling you." Taking another sip of a weak but not bad-tasting cocktail, Irina cleared her throat and continued her story. “And the fight, you know, was actually kind of nice. She was good, but not too good. Just like me. It feels like you’re fighting an equal opponent who respects you in return. It’s… I don’t know how to explain it to someone who hasn’t dived themselves, but… well, as Odi wrote, that very sense of proportion.” Virtual sparring just is not like that; it’s not the same feeling at all."

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 07:51

Ilya managed, through a heroic effort of will, to keep from laughing at her patronizing “you wouldn’t understand.” She certainly didn’t mean to offend him. And he understood her, too. The fight with Günter, for example, had left a positive impression. Even the battle with the Cat Lady, come to think of it. They hadn’t exchanged a single word, aside from the Earthling’s very first remark, but they understood each other almost as well as close relatives. He really wouldn’t have turned down the chance to chat with the bearer of such mighty blood, even if it was just to shoot the breeze and not on business. On business, he would have tried to buy information from her about that very same blood, paying with something from the storehouse of Earth’s science.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 07:55

Or take Elea, for instance—a woman whom the Earthling respects without a shadow of a doubt, despite their battle and his own defeat. He respects her, yes, but from a distance, preferring to stay as far away from her as possible. She is simply too driven, vicious, and dangerous. If she lived on Earth with that kind of motivation and outlook on life, he would be the first to wish a sniper’s bullet or an Assembly assassination squad upon her. They have more than enough of their own orthodox types; why would they need others?

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 07:56

“But I lost to the fourth one, that stinking bastard!” Judging by her previous comments, the guy really stank to high heaven, as if he’d vowed never to wash, which isn’t uncommon among the Oathbearer, but this one was the Executioner. “He’s a tough one, that freak! And armored. And resilient. I definitely set him on fire, maybe even killed him, but he tore me in two before he died from his scorched guts.”

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 07:58

Not surprising. The Executioner may not be considered an antagonist, but he is certainly an inconvenient opponent for Irina. Among the caster classes, they are most effective against Charmancers and Shamans, as they are well-protected against a significant portion of standard spell combinations. A Warlock specializing in shadow magic or necromancy might have managed it, and even the fiery Irina could have. But she miscalculated her tactics, believing she could close the distance first, that her enemy wouldn’t reach her until it was too late. And the man caught her on the counterattack, which is often the favorite tactic of all for Executioners, who cannot boast of maneuverability. Either go all out on the first strike, after which a second one isn’t needed, or rely on counterattacks, trusting in their own armor and survivability.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 08:02

He relied on his survivability and won, giving Irina her first taste of defeat—and she wasn’t the only one. Among Earthlings, most defeats for first-step fighters occurred precisely in the fourth, fifth, and sixth matches, when the system for matching increasingly stronger opponents eventually pitted them against foes they had no way of defeating. Ilya wouldn’t say he went out of his way to rub it in Irina’s face, but he didn’t exactly hide the fact that she should have won the fourth match. She had asked him—without any unnecessary gentleness or tact—to analyze her mistakes, and, to the fair-haired beauty’s credit, even though she was clearly unhappy, she was more angry at herself than at his criticism.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 08:10

In her fifth battle, Irina got her revenge by facing off against the Shaman. He was also a totemist, but incomparably weaker than Ilya’s first opponent. He was mad, too, but not dangerously so—he hadn't retained his intellect and was simply a vicious beast with no strength left even for cunning. She defeated him quite confidently, though she did take a couple of frostbite hits from the ice spirit summoned from the totem. Things were much tougher for her in the sixth battle, against—damn it—the native and pious Pure One! Fortunately, she wasn’t facing one of their princes, but a simpler fellow—a typical bearded and vicious Assassin with a melee build uncharacteristic of his class.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 08:13

They fought for nearly a full day. The arena was uncomfortably wide and rocky, and there was nothing to light a fire with, but the dugout did not disgrace the honor of its homeland. She recalled one of the theurgical rituals Ilya had recommended, dedicated specifically to the Guiding Star. He had suggested them for future dives, not for the tournament, but they came in handy. The sensory-searching contraption demanded the girl’s left hand. Moreover, this wound could not be healed by a simple rebirth. It would require either two deaths or death during a complex, self-sacrificial ritual. Initially, the Earthling had given her a different version of this rite, which required nine hands of enemies, also left hands, but he had mentioned in passing that one could also offer one’s own.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 08:18

Ira was certainly taking a risk. She had devised the ritual herself, drawing on the articles she’d found through Ilya’s links and her own intuition, but she hadn’t been torn into a hundred little Warlocks. It felt as if someone’s invisible, razor-sharp fangs had bitten off her hand; it hardly hurt at all, and the wound healed instantly, as if she’d lost the limb years and years ago. The obsessive and barely suppressible desire to perform the ritual again and feed herself piece by piece could have been fatal, but the girl managed to hold out for a couple of hours. She simply began to cast “Bonfire” over and over again.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 09:23

And these fires shot straight into the center of the ritual circle, then burst out from there right next to the person who had most recently drawn blood from the Warlock. It’s worth noting that by that point, he and the killer had already clashed four times in battle, and he’d struck her a couple of times with poisonous throwing nails. He would’ve been lucky if he’d been ten kilometers away from the ritual site, but the Pure One chose to stay closer to the wounded girl. She may have cauterized her wounds and thus rid herself of the poison, but she was already losing to her enemy. He could have won, but he surely wanted to properly take care of the unfaithful woman so he could later brag at home about how he’d fucked that Assembly impure bitch.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 09:25

He waited and awaited the arrival of the portal’s offensive spells—weak and partially devoured by the portal, yet gaining additional theurgical damage. Each such cast gnawed away a little more flesh from Irina, so that by the end of the battle, her healed stump had reached all the way to her shoulder, turning into tiny pieces of starlight, but the Pure One still ran out before Irina did. A very risky venture and an equally risky ritual, one she would never have dared to perform under normal circumstances for fear of causing desynchronization, but in the context of the tournament, a perfectly valid “almost suicidal” tactic. Essentially, no worse than what Ilya himself had used in his sixth battle.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 09:33

The seventh battle was much calmer, but not without its dangers. It was a pure duel between casters, fought from a distance, with neither side attempting to close the gap. A Spellcaster against a Warlock, nearly equal forces, gradually dwindling reserves, and a cunning enemy from some obscure world. She barely managed to find his crest on the Forum, and even then, only with the help of the AI advisor. The battle’s conclusion turned out to be downright comical. The enemy decided that, while he had certainly exhausted his magic reserves, he hadn’t exhausted his available options. The asshole—that’s what Irina called him for his utterly brazen and asshole behavior—pulled out a lead shooter made by the Mechanic-Armsmaster.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 12:24

And that one exploded.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 09:33

“Ignition of Will” works quite well on targets that are not visible to the naked eye, provided there is an aspect such as ‘Invisibility’ or “Barrier.” You can’t just boil the insides of a gifted one like that. Not without the wildest expenses and an inherent advantage, because those innards are protected by aural bodies, attributes, and the lot bestowed by the Mechanism. But what about a lousy firearm made by a mediocre gifted one, and for sale at that, not for himself? All seven rounds in the cylinder went off, already unstable given their stay in the spatial pocket. The hand gripping the weapon was torn off at the shoulder.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 12:26

"Well, as for the eighth one, it’s all clear now. Dreamer is such Dreamer." She’s so calm right now, but when she was just recounting that fight, she wasn’t calm at all; she was more like threatening to master interdimensional travel and shove someone’s greasy head up their ass. "The location’s a pain in the ass, and that little prick has totally lost his mind!"

Camrad_RIP 23.05.26 в 12:25

Her opponent was a very young, or at least youthful-looking, man appearing to be about fifteen. Because of the combination of some Dreamwalker talents. He was the typical type: you’d almost suspect him of being an Earthling, but no, the boy bore the mark of the Iron World, though without the order’s insignia. A renegade and a criminal who refused to join the order and did not wish to become a knight, but instead craved all that was forbidden and pleasurable. Opponents of this sort are either self-assured and quick to die, or they do indeed grow into a Mesmericl larva, and sometimes into a fat larva that has even pupated.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 12:32

This one turned out to be closer to the second option than the first. He made no mistakes, applying the right pressure at the right moments, so Ilya honestly admitted that Ira had little chance. Suppose she had any at all. The arena turned out to be an empty estate, with dozens and hundreds of farmhouses that looked as if their inhabitants had left them just yesterday. Even the milk hadn’t had time to sour in the pails and jugs. There was no livestock, by the way, not even chickens, not even birds like crows or the like—just mosquitoes, crickets, and other assorted vermin. It was on this estate that Irina had to search for an opponent, gradually being consumed by drowsiness and a creeping lethargy.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 12:35

No, she tried meditating. She performed a couple of simple rituals to ward off sleep, since she possessed the “Drawing Lines” talent—just like any self-respecting Warlock. But none of it helped much, and eventually she passed out, only to wake up almost immediately. Then she spent two hours searching for her opponent in the sweltering heat until she realized she had been searching for her enemy topless, and after that, she woke up again. A double dream, then a triple one, losing the line between reality and a dream.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 12:40

"Anyway, once that ritual charcoal burned my skin and brought my brain back online for a bit, I realized I hadn’t eaten dinner in half an hour to regain my strength, but was instead sucking on a cucumber—not even a bitten-into one—that was huge as hell, and I’d already slathered the second and third ones with sour cream and honey so that, ahem... Anyway, I decided to screw the bastard and set myself on fire." At this point, Ilya suspected that the enemy had managed to do a bit more than Irina was saying, but he certainly didn’t pry for unasked-for details; he merely noted the decisive and timely tactic of confronting such perverts in a situation where it was already clear there was no way out. "And the ninth turned out to be from Boretzaria, so I burned him to ashes in a fit of rage; even the pleas he cried out didn’t help."

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 16:59

Apparently, she was truly furious. And not just angry, but in a battle frenzy—not merely the self-assured rage that’s dangerous to herself. Still, all things being equal, a fight between a Warlock and an Occultist, especially if both are relatively new, usually ends in the Occultist’s favor. In the early stages, they’re simply much more dangerous, especially the Summoner branch. Especially if you’re willing to pay with pieces of yourself, knowing that you won’t have to walk around crippled afterward due to the nature of the Tournament.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 17:01

"That's it. I woke up this morning, sent you a message, posted on the Forum, and uploaded the Dreamwalker's description to the “Information Sharing” section for the allied world. Let the Lancelots fuck him in the ass, and then I went for a walk with you." She did the right thing about the note for the knights; he’ll even contact one of the admins of the Forum’s diplomatic conference himself later to make sure they pass on the Dreamwalker’s exact description, just in case they find the little shit and give him a proper beating? "And now I’m out for a walk. Yeah, the asshole turned out to be tougher, and the dreamwalkers are always a piece of shit anyway, but I got a shitload of drops! In one run, literally! And I even pulled one on the account, so we can have fun while we’re still alive!"

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 17:08

Well, while this tendency among young, inexperienced divers to spend their earnings too recklessly doesn’t exactly annoy Ilya, he doesn’t really approve of it. After all, such individuals are all too quick to forget that their Twins aren’t immortal, that not every cycle will be successful, and that it’s always wise to have a reserve in case of a string of failures. On the other hand, it is precisely the beautiful life—and the chance to avoid racking one’s brains to achieve it—that attracts young people to Broken. The fact that, in order for Broken members to actually earn a truly beautiful life, racking one’s brains is, in fact, inevitable, doesn’t get in right away, nor does it get in for everyone.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 17:25

It's good that Irina still has some brain, especially after her first death. Otherwise, Ilya simply wouldn't have been able to stand her company.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 17:28

“Well, I've had my fill and I'm already a little tipsy.” The girl, smiling cheerfully, really isn't exactly sober anymore, though she's nowhere near as drunk as she's trying to make it seem. “Let's head over to the VR. They just released a new movie there, you know, ‘The Fifth Line.’”

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 17:27

Ilya isn’t exactly a big fan of immersive movie theaters, but right now he’s in just the right mood to check out the latest innovations in the film industry. Virtual reality theaters are certainly for specific tastes—crowded rooms, cramped rows of seats, ill-fitting goggles, and overpriced fast food—but many people go there for the atmosphere. Ilya wasn’t a big fan of movies “based on” what happened in Broken, because as an expert, it often genuinely hurt him to watch the plots of these “masterpieces.” It made his eyes bleed—and he wanted to gouge out not only his own eyes, but also those of the director, screenwriter, actors, and film crew.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 12:43

The Fifth Line embodied everything Ilya disliked about films of this sort. The plot was based on a solid premise: a time shortly after the Citadel’s establishment, when they had already begun to flex their muscles against the locals but hadn’t yet gotten their own five step. And the locals decided once again to show the savages their place, cunningly directing the migration of several hordes of creatures—including some extremely powerful ones, up to two fifth-tier beings—straight into the territory occupied by the Citadel. They didn’t even bother defending the first four lines of defense; there, it all came down to surrendering those lines as painlessly as possible, pulling the main forces away from the unstoppable onslaught.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 12:45

But the fifth line became the place where the Citadel’s elite—along with the locals who remained loyal to them and those who defected at the last moment (when they realized that following the Citadel would mean being swept away by the very mob they were trying to avoid)—faced the enemy, not hoping to win, but waiting for the ritual to elevate their own leader. Or rather, not their leader, but his deputy and best warrior—another intrigue, another question: would it all come down to a bloodbath when they began to determine who would be the Fifth Step? One of the defining moments in the history of the Citadel—and, in many ways, of Earth itself—since it was precisely that victory that marked the beginning of the Citadel’s approach to leveling up and building communities.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 17:33

The movie used this very situation as the basis for its plot, completely twisting it out of shape. Around the end of the first third of the four-hour screening, Irina demanded that Ilya explain why on earth he was stifling his laughter, which was so intense it brought tears to his eyes. And yet there were such solemn, dramatic moments! Ilya thought for a moment, then set up a conference call between their seats using the virtual helmet’s microphone so as not to disturb the others. And he began to tell them how it really happened. In the regular sections of the Forum, this information isn’t that easy to find; it’s not exactly secret, just specific and incomplete.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 17:34

Ilya enjoyed the privilege of being a student of London AU, some of whose distinguished professors—and even some of the founders—had personally participated in those events. Not only did he ask them questions, but he also spent a great deal of time in the archives, albeit on related projects, so he knew what it was like on the fifth line. And with that background, it’s not hard to find confirmation on the Forum if you know where to look and whom to ask. In short, instead of pomp and grandeur, it turned out to be a nonstop bloody circus on the front lines, at times quite literal—several raids by these creatures simply bypassed the Citadel’s lands and wiped out a bunch of settlements and several major cities deep in the rear of the local Oikoumene.

Camrad_RIP 25.05.26 в 17:37

There was no solemn speech from Scarlet Felix. It was a continuous stream of curses in a mixture of Bulgarian, Polish, and English, explaining that they wouldn't have time to escape anyway, and that he would personally skin those who did until the Vessels were empty. There was no love story between the entirely fictitious Elizabeth Sparrow and one of the local lords-rulers, who came to her aid at the very last moment, only to die heroically saving the maiden. There was banal blackmail, threats, forced oaths, and two Dreamwalkers who took the lord's beloved (in every sense of the word) son hostage. Then this fellow, with his mind completely reformatted, became one of the initiators of the Act of Liberty, with which the Citadel finally secured its inviolable status.

Camrad_RIP 26.05.26 в 09:53