Chapter 5

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In the intricate dance of influence, power is an elusive force that gravitates toward the hands of the few, establishing a perpetual cycle of accumulation and growth. Much like a seed taking root in fertile soil, power possesses an innate ability to multiply and entwine itself with existing structures.

Initially, power often finds its origin in strategic positions, wealth, or exceptional abilities held by individuals. These catalysts act as the initial deposits in the bank of influence. Once a foothold is secured, power exhibits a magnetic quality, drawing more resources, connections, and opportunities into its orbit. [...] 

In the grand tapestry of human dynamics, power's accumulation and self-propagation shape the destinies of societies and individuals alike. Understanding this intricate dance provides insight into the mechanisms that govern influence and the imperative to cultivate a conscious awareness of the impact wielded by the powerful few.

From: Ephemeral Realms: The Psyche's Odyssey (Dr. Helena Thorne)


"We would not be this successful if we followed the rules!"

The old man's declaration hung in the air like a lingering echo, casting a weighty hush over the room. It was this sort of silence where everyone minded their own business looking innocent and inconspicuous. The quietude of calculated restraint, where the faintest sound could provoke the ire of authority. These were individuals who held dominion over entire countries or continents, men who transcended the bounds of law, standing above all others - leaders and the preeminent titans of industry. Just one word of them could catalyze an atomic war reducing the planet to ruins, could kill the innocent like a god judging his subjects. Together they could end hunger, poverty and wars, but they would not pay the price. The price for a better world was not money, but power. Who could stand above these godlike people?

Nervous shuffling echoed in the sterile, white room as the leaders exchanged uneasy glances. The oppressive silence was reinforced by the lack of windows and ventilation shafts.

Stale warm air filled the hermetic room, carrying the taste of sweat and fright. Two hours had passed since they shut down their AI and changed into white suits to enter this underground bunker. Simple transparent furniture hurt their backs, and technology was strictly prohibited. The security measures would detect even the smallest nanochip making the room completely tap-proof. Here in this room, the shepherds felt like cattle cobbled together to hear the details of the incident.

They all received invitation as soon as it occurred and the fear of exclusion and scorn by the other leaders prompted every guest to appear.

'The Unlimited Homicide' or 'The Cybernetic Exodus' were two prominent names for this event where ten percent of the players of Unlimited died – four percent of Earth's entire population.

The harsh light accentuated the discontented expression on the face of the United States of America.

"The people are uneasy, and they have all right for it! 200 million dead Americans due to a video game. Since the Quantum war in 2432, there hasn't been an event in history with such devastating consequences. I need an explanation before the press conference!", he demanded pounding his fist on the transparent table.

The other leaders flinched. One hit his knee against his desk, and the president sought support by keeping his hand on the cold, hard table.. Everyone looked at him in shock. He spoke up. Against him. The chief of MindSoft.

"Firstly, let's not forget, there has been no major conflict since the establishment of MindSoft in 2446." The old man leaned back, fixing his sharp gaze on the president. "Do you dare to assert that life in your country surpasses the experiences offered by Unlimited? While people endure daily hardships and hunger, we granted them a chance at a better existence in an alternate world?"

"So, you admit it was an error!" I –", The president's voice wavered as he clutched the table's edge, his knuckles turning white. The room held its breath, awaiting the consequences of his accusation as the senior rose a finger.

"No error. An experimental feature to replicate the human mind within a machine, securely locked away. It was activated by a uniquely talented hacker." He focused his grey eyes on the president, shattering his arrogance like thin glass. The president could not withstand the penetrating gaze and shamefully lowered his head.

Then the old man mustered the rest, like searching for the conspirator. His fierce stare melted into their memory, but no one looked guilty.

Like I thought, he deduced. We might have a problem.

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