Conclave of the Immortals. test of strength

Conclave of the Immortals. test of strength Vitaly Zykov

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Title: Conclave of the Immortals. test of strength

About the book "Conclave of the Immortals. Test of strength Vitaly Zykov

It is difficult to survive in the world of the victorious Darkness. Blood is shed on the streets of Sosnowsk and evil magic is happening, anyone can become a victim of a monster. However, there is still no unity among the townspeople. Someone is fighting for the right to remain a man, and someone is ready for anything for the sake of power. But if there are no heroes in white robes, knights without fear and reproach, ordinary people come instead. Those who are tired of shaking with fear, who are not afraid of the labyrinth of ancient mysteries and mysteries. And now it's time for them to take the first step and try their hand at fighting the enemy.

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Dedicated to Robert Heinlein and his Sky Tunnel. Only a strong spirit opens new horizons.

... Terrible catastrophes and upheavals produce a certain shift in the minds of people. They turn from social animals into animals. Dumb and immensely cruel, ready to burn, rape, kill just like that, for the sake of satisfying the thirst for power. They live not even one day, but one hour. They do not care about the future, because as long as someone else's blood is shed, there is food and drink, they are immortal. I don't care that they are dying nearby, they are alive!

And if a person does not appear who is able to stop the bacchanalia of death, to heal the human mass from madness, then the people will die. It will degenerate into naked savages and is unlikely to rise again. Therefore, the leader bears a colossal responsibility. It is extremely important that he achieve his goal in any way, even if by force or fear. That's right, by force or fear...

From the speech of the participant of the First Conclave

Karaganda looked at the setting sun from under his palm and spat thickly. What a life: neither day nor night there is no peace. On all sides, death lurks. You just gape, like - hop, and you are already gone. It's okay, he lived his own, but the young are still ahead.

- Petya, it's getting dark already! Where are you with your crocodile?! - Sergei Sergeevich began to get angry. Where did the boy go? He told him not to go far from home. The hour is uneven, what kind of stranger will slip past the posts. Okay, if an ordinary bandit - the lizard will protect, what if Tagged? Or, not by night, be remembered, mutant? No chance for the kid. And in general, are there any dangers in Sosnovsk - well-known and not so?

I wanted to smoke again. Though the same vigorous neighbor's self-garden. So that from the first puff it made its way to the very livers ...

- Petka!!!

- Yes, here I am, here! - The thickets of the neighboring raspberries rustled, and the foster child climbed onto the fence. The face is all smeared with mud, the shirt is torn, there is a fresh scratch on the cheek, a black eye under the eye. Noticing the attentive look of the headman, he smiled rather.

- You got into a fight, didn't you?

- Yeah. With Volodya Uncle Kolin. He called me a mutant and said that I hide my tail in my pants,” said Petka. - Well, I hit him on the nose a couple of times.

- And he told me. - The joy has diminished a little, but not much. - And Prickle obeyed the order and did not interfere. He sat on the sidelines, did not even growl almost.

The bushes rustled again, and the tamed lizard jumped over the fence in one leap. Sergei Sergeevich shuddered in surprise.

- That's the devil!

Ignoring the swearing, Thorn sniffed the air noisily and touched the headman with his paw. He shied to the side.

- You'll knock it down, your stupid head! Petka, kill the cattle!!!

The boy jumped to the ground and called the naughty "monkey" to him. However, it was Karaganda who decided that he called. There was no whistle, no command, just Thorn suddenly left him alone and went up to the owner.

Sergei Sergeevich habitually marveled at the foster child's talent. Unlike some, he did not yell about witchcraft and dark forces, did not demand to beat all the Marked in mortal combat. Life must be taken as it is. Without tantrums and mutual insults. Well, people have become a little different, so what? They don't do evil, and that's fine. But how much use they have… Karaganda snorted. Why lie to yourself? He wanted to spit on all this supernatural zaum. Even if Petruha were the devil himself, he would not let anyone offend him. He became attached to the soul of the boy, his relatives and there is no one in the world.

Sergei Sergeevich grinned broadly, watching the adoptive scold his beast in an undertone. He listened attentively, opening his mouth and enthusiastically pounding his tail on the pavement. For some reason, the lizard imagined himself to be a dog.

Finishing raising Thorn, Petka shook his finger and for some reason put his hand in his mouth. Karaganda tensed against his will. After all, he knows that the “monkey” will not offend the boy, but he is still afraid. Even evil takes. Just like a mother hen, it remains to start choking.

The boy, without fear, began to scratch the gums of the predator, forcing him to rumble loudly. Streams of saliva stretched to the ground, a whole puddle had already accumulated in front of the lizard. Karaganda frowned in disgust: pah, disgusting!

- Petka, look, if he nails everything again at home, Valentina will beat you both. And me at the same time.

Petka was not afraid of the threat. With a chuckle, he pushed the beast's head away and began wiping his hand on his jeans. But, catching the disapproving glance of Sergei Sergeyevich, he became noticeably embarrassed, grabbed his scaly friend by the scruff of the neck and dragged him into the house.

The elder stayed for a while. Suddenly there was a desire to relax, to be alone for a couple of minutes, watching the play of shadows and remembering.

How things have changed. Someone else's house, someone else's clothes, someone else's grandson. Many curse the Transference, which took away their loved ones, destroyed their usual life. Probably, Karaganda alone has nothing to complain about. The cataclysm that happened to him only gave him nothing in return.

Once upon a time he was married, worked as a history teacher at school, made plans for the future. Then his country suddenly disappeared, his wife left for another, and clever swindlers took away the apartment. Fate. A modest intellectual perished, and his place was taken by the homeless Sergey Sergeyevich. Like everyone else, drinking, smelling bad and constantly foul-mouthed. Scourge, tramp, scum of society. And there was no force capable of stopping him on the edge of the slope of life, to prevent him from falling into the abyss.

But the Transfer happened.

For Sergei Sergeevich, this cosmic event became a sign from above, a divine revelation that turned the soul inside out. That terrible day he will not forget until his death.

... It was an ordinary morning. Karaganda got out of his "home" early in the morning - a well in a small square not far from the center - and began to walk around the territory. Who gets up early, God gives him, so you had to try to give you, and not Kolya Plasterer or Dasha Yazve. Bottles, aluminum cans are rubbish for everyone else, but for scourges like Karaganda, real wealth. I even had to fight for him.

He walked heavily along Lenin Street, looking around the bushes and looking into the trash cans. I was desperate for a drink. At night, something absolutely utterly utterly utterly utterly dreamed, and Sergei Sergeevich, with lazy doom, wondered if he had developed a fever ...

When houses and cars began to explode around him, and streams of fire poured from the sky, he took it for granted. Like, here it is, it began. There was even some pride. Everyone has devils running around or there are flies the size of a bathtub buzzing, but he has it like that. So it stood like a pillar until a woman running past was killed by something like a huge green icicle. The unfortunate woman did not even have time to gasp.

An outlandish projectile flew in from somewhere above, where howling and terribly screaming, where black shadows flickered and lightning flashed. Blood spatter hit Karaganda on the face, bringing him to his senses. Feeling the taste of someone else's blood on his lips, he seemed to see the light. Somewhere gone alcoholic waste, thoughts have become clear and understandable. Death has come to the city. Why and how is not important. Just an abyss opened up under their feet, where they all fell safely. Who will live and who will die will be decided by God, the devil or fate itself. If death threatens from everywhere, it remains only to wait for your fate. Just wait.

Sergei Sergeevich remembered how he knelt down and began to pray, with difficulty remembering the half-forgotten words. Giving a vow: if he survives, be sure to change, forget the past and start life anew. He didn't care about the horrors around him. Come what may.

This is how the Transference met.

Karaganda was true to his word. I stopped drinking, smoking, began to take care of myself. Then fate brought him together with Petka, and he again remembered what it means to be responsible for someone. I did not have time to get used to it, as fate threw a new gift. We came to Dikoe and met Valentina. Baba grasping, with the concept, quickly realized that she could not survive alone. A month before the disaster, her husband and his son went to Vladivostok to visit relatives, so she was left alone. She sheltered them with the boy in the house, helped them gather their thoughts, and soon Karaganda found a job for himself. He began gutting stores together with his neighbors, threw in an idea to jointly defend himself from bandits and marauders. Further more, somehow it happened, but people were drawn to them. Ten, twenty, thirty people ... And help with all the advice, tell me how to be. The former homeless Sergei Sergeevich himself did not notice how either a commune, or a rural community, was formed around him, and he himself became a headman under it.

There were no experienced fighters behind Karaganda's back, he did not possess supernatural talents either, but for some reason the rest saw in him the person who would lead them through all the troubles. Why this happened, he did not know. Some sort of obsession. And the problems, like a snowball, are growing. How to fight off predatory creatures, what to plant in vegetable gardens, with whom to be friends, with whom to fight ... There is too much of everything, but you can’t push it on anyone else. You have to pull yourself. I hoped that over time, people would choose someone else to take his place, but wherever. He copes with business, does not complain about his health - after the Transfer he is pretty much stronger, even seems to be younger - so why change? They don’t look for good from good, why then fool your head. True, there were those who were dissatisfied, but the majority fell silent when Petka's talent for taming the beasts was revealed.

It is difficult to survive in the world of the victorious Darkness. Blood is shed on the streets of Sosnowska and evil magic is happening, anyone can become a victim of a monster. However, there is still no unity among the townspeople. Someone is fighting for the right to remain a man, and someone is ready for anything for the sake of power. But if there are no heroes in white robes, knights without fear and reproach, ordinary people come instead. Those who are tired of shaking with fear, who are not afraid of the labyrinth of ancient mysteries and mysteries. And now it's time for them to take the first step and try their hand at fighting the enemy.

War of Survival - 2

Dedicated to Robert Heinlein and his Sky Tunnel. Only a strong spirit opens new horizons.

... Terrible catastrophes and upheavals produce a certain shift in the minds of people. They turn from social animals into animals. Dumb and immensely cruel, ready to burn, rape, kill just like that, for the sake of satisfying the thirst for power. They live not even one day, but one hour. They do not care about the future, because as long as someone else's blood is shed, there is food and drink, they are immortal. I don't care that they are dying nearby, they are alive!

And if a person does not appear who is able to stop the bacchanalia of death, to heal the human mass from madness, then the people will die. It will degenerate into naked savages and is unlikely to rise again. Therefore, the leader bears a colossal responsibility. It is extremely important that he achieve his goal in any way, even if by force or fear. That's right, by force or fear...

From the speech of the participant of the First Conclave

Karaganda looked at the setting sun from under his palm and spat thickly. What a life: neither day nor night there is no peace. On all sides, death lurks. Just gape like - hop, and you're gone. It's okay, he lived his own, but the young are still ahead.

Petka, it's getting dark already! Where are you with your crocodile?! - Sergei Sergeevich began to get angry. Where did the boy go? He told him not to go far from home. The hour is uneven, what kind of stranger will slip past the posts. Okay, if an ordinary bandit - a lizard will protect, what if Tagged? Or, not by night, be remembered, mutant? No chance for the kid. And in general, are there any dangers in Sosnovsk - well-known and not so?

I wanted to smoke again. Though the same vigorous neighbor's self-garden. So that from the first puff it made its way to the very livers ...

Petka!!!

Yes, here I am, here! - The thickets of the neighboring raspberries rustled, and the adoptive climbed onto the fence. The face is all smeared with mud, the shirt is torn, there is a fresh scratch on the cheek, a black eye under the eye. Noticing the attentive look of the headman, he smiled rather.

Got in a fight, right?

Yeah. With Volodya Uncle Kolin. He called me a mutant and said that I was hiding my tail in my pants,” said Petka. - Well, I hit him on the nose a couple of times.

And he told me. - Joy has diminished a little, but not much. - And also Thorn obeyed the order and did not interfere. He sat on the sidelines, did not even growl almost.

The bushes rustled again, and the tamed lizard jumped over the fence in one leap. Sergei Sergeevich shuddered in surprise.

That's the devil!

Ignoring the swearing, Thorn sniffed the air noisily and touched the headman with his paw. He shied to the side.

You'll knock it down, your stupid head! Petka, kill the cattle!!!

The boy jumped to the ground and called the naughty "monkey" to him. However, it was Karaganda who decided that he called. There was no whistle, no command, just Thorn suddenly left him alone and went up to the owner.

Sergei Sergeevich habitually marveled at the foster child's talent. Unlike some, he did not yell about witchcraft and dark forces, did not demand to beat all the Marked in mortal combat. Life must be taken as it is. Without tantrums and mutual insults.

Vitaly Zykov

Conclave of the Immortals. test of strength

Dedicated to Robert Heinlein and his Sky Tunnel. Only a strong spirit opens new horizons.

... Terrible catastrophes and upheavals produce a certain shift in the minds of people. They turn from social animals into animals. Dumb and immensely cruel, ready to burn, rape, kill just like that, for the sake of satisfying the thirst for power. They live not even one day, but one hour. They do not care about the future, because as long as someone else's blood is shed, there is food and drink, they are immortal. I don't care that they are dying nearby, they are alive!

And if a person does not appear who is able to stop the bacchanalia of death, to heal the human mass from madness, then the people will die. It will degenerate into naked savages and is unlikely to rise again. Therefore, the leader bears a colossal responsibility. It is extremely important that he achieve his goal in any way, even if by force or fear. That's right, by force or fear...

From the speech of the participant of the First Conclave

Karaganda looked at the setting sun from under his palm and spat thickly. What a life: neither day nor night there is no peace. On all sides, death lurks. Just gape like - hop, and you're gone. It's okay, he lived his own, but the young are still ahead.

Petka, it's getting dark already! Where are you with your crocodile?! - Sergei Sergeevich began to get angry. Where did the boy go? He told him not to go far from home. The hour is uneven, which stranger will slip past the posts. Okay, if an ordinary bandit - a lizard will protect, what if Tagged? Or, not by night, be remembered, mutant? No chance for the kid. And in general, are there any dangers in Sosnovsk - well-known and not so?

I wanted to smoke again. At least the same vigorous neighbor's home garden. So that from the first puff it penetrates to the very livers ...

Petka!!!

Yes, here I am, here! - Thickets of neighboring raspberries rustled, and the foster child climbed onto the fence. The face is all smeared with mud, the shirt is torn, there is a fresh scratch on the cheek, a black eye under the eye. Noticing the attentive look of the headman, he smiled rather.

Got in a fight, right?

Yeah. With Volodya Uncle Kolin. He called me a mutant and said that I was hiding my tail in my pants,” said Petka. - Well, I hit him on the nose a couple of times.

And he told me. - Joy has diminished a little, but not much. - And also Thorn obeyed the order and did not interfere. He sat on the sidelines, did not even growl almost.

The bushes rustled again, and the tamed lizard jumped over the fence in one leap. Sergei Sergeevich shuddered in surprise.

That's the devil!

Ignoring the swearing, Thorn sniffed the air noisily and touched the headman with his paw. He shied to the side.

You'll knock it down, your stupid head! Petka, kill the cattle!!!

The boy jumped to the ground and called the naughty "monkey" to him. However, it was Karaganda who decided that he called. There was no whistle, no command, just Thorn suddenly left him alone and went up to the owner.

Sergei Sergeevich habitually marveled at the foster child's talent. Unlike some, he did not yell about witchcraft and dark forces, did not demand to beat all the Marked in mortal combat. Life must be taken as it is. Without tantrums and mutual insults. Well, people have become a little different, so what? They don't do evil, and that's fine. But how much use they have… Karaganda snorted. Why lie to yourself? He wanted to spit on all this supernatural zaum. Even if Petruha were the devil himself, he would not let anyone offend him. He became attached to the soul of the boy, his relatives and there is no one in the world.

Sergei Sergeevich grinned broadly, watching the foster child scold his beast in an undertone. He listened attentively, opening his mouth and enthusiastically pounding his tail on the asphalt. For some reason, the lizard imagined himself to be a dog.

Finishing raising Thorn, Petka shook his finger and for some reason put his hand in his mouth. Karaganda tensed against his will. He knows, after all, that the “monkey” will not offend the boy, but he is still afraid. Even evil takes. Just like a mother hen, it remains to start choking.

The boy, without fear, began to scratch the gums of the predator, forcing him to rumble loudly. Streams of saliva stretched to the ground, a whole puddle had already accumulated in front of the lizard. Karaganda frowned in disgust: pah, disgusting!

Petka, look, if he nails everything again at home, Valentina will beat you both. And me at the same time.

Petka was not afraid of the threat. With a chuckle, he pushed the beast's head away and began wiping his hand on his jeans. But, catching the disapproving glance of Sergei Sergeyevich, he became noticeably embarrassed, grabbed his scaly friend by the scruff of the neck and dragged him into the house.

The elder stayed for a while. Suddenly there was a desire to relax, to be alone for a couple of minutes, watching the play of shadows and remembering.

How things have changed. Someone else's house, someone else's clothes, someone else's grandson. Many curse the Transference, which took away their loved ones, destroyed their usual life. Probably, Karaganda alone has nothing to complain about. The cataclysm that happened to him only gave him nothing in return.

Once upon a time he was married, worked as a history teacher at school, made plans for the future. Then his country suddenly disappeared, his wife left for another, and clever swindlers took away the apartment. Fate. A modest intellectual perished, and his place was taken by the homeless Sergey Sergeyevich. Like everyone else, drinking, smelling bad and constantly foul-mouthed. Scourge, tramp, scum of society. And there was no force capable of stopping him on the edge of the slope of life, to prevent him from falling into the abyss.

But the Transfer happened.

For Sergei Sergeevich, this cosmic event became a sign from above, a divine revelation that turned the soul inside out. That terrible day he will not forget until his death.

... It was an ordinary morning. Karaganda got out of his “home” early in the morning - a well in a small