Shadow Seer (Rogue Merchant Book #3): LitRPG Series Roman Prokofiev (great books of all time .txt) đź“–
- Author: Roman Prokofiev
Book online «Shadow Seer (Rogue Merchant Book #3): LitRPG Series Roman Prokofiev (great books of all time .txt) 📖». Author Roman Prokofiev
Rocky’s fingers danced across the symbols that lit up blue. I couldn’t follow the pattern. Finally, the Gravekeeper touched the central star, the entire image flashed, and the wall of the cave moved up with a booming sound.
Behind it was a narrow passage that ended with a small room. A grey cube lit by a ray of light coming seemingly out of nowhere stood in the center. I recalled seeing it before—I had found Aelmaris on a similar pedestal in a cave just like this one. There, however, seven throwing stars forged from blue metal with silvery sparks lay in a circle. There could be no mistake—it was a flaming weapon from the Seven Brothers’ set.
“The Third Key,” Rocky said, coughing behind my back. “I left it here so your patron wouldn’t realize that I woke up. Well? Do you believe me now?”
“I do. Are you Svechkin?” I asked him directly, looking him straight in the eye.
“I was him, once,” the Gravekeeper confirmed. “In the world that you consider reality. Here, my name is different, and it would be nice if you continue using it.”
“All right. Can we talk?”
“I think it’s necessary. Let’s sit down, shall we?”
We perched on large stone rocks next to the fireplace. I was slightly puzzled and confused. So Svechkin had been by my side for a while, observing me, even teaching me to fence. Coincidence or not? I remembered our meeting in the Arch, him escorting me to Thrainul’s ship. Was it a chance meeting? Was he waiting for me there?
“Why a Gravekeeper skin?” I finally asked.
“Disguise.” He nodded, touching the bandages on his face. “Creative, don’t you think?”
“Yes, it’s unexpected. I would’ve never guessed,” I confessed.
“Let’s not waste time on small talk. First, tell me why the Magister sent you,” Rocky said. “He was the only one who knew where I was. You’ve risked a lot to get here. What was your goal?”
“I was to find Svechkin,” I said, shrugging. “The Magister’s looking for you. He wants to assemble the Seven.”
“Lies. He knows our locations well enough. If he wanted to find and gather us, you would have never gotten Max’s sword. The Magister doesn’t want us, only our Keys. He needs a tool to look for them. I think he sent you to fetch the Compass. Am I right? What orders did he give you about me?”
“None, really. Find you, get the Compass,” I replied, perplexed by Svechkin’s harsh tone. The Magister had mentioned a conflict between them...
“All right, let’s do it this way. What do you know about the Seven, the Keys, and all that crap? What did the Magister tell you?”
“Seven Brothers are an emergency protocol that controls procedural generation. All of you, the developers, created digital copies in Sphere. Each of you has a Key in the shape of a star metal weapon. In case of a crisis, you can combine your keys and assume control of the main AI. After the plane crash—”
“Stop! What did he tell you about the cause of the crash?” Rocky interrupted me.
I considered the question. Should I tell him that Balabanov thought that the plane was destroyed by Agasyan, the owner of Sphere? Before this conversation, I had expected Svechkin to jump at the call, happy to return to the Magister—after all, they were part of the same team.
“Why are you silent? Is it a delicate question? Knowing Andrei, he either said it was an accident or fabricated a story about Agasyan’s plotting. Am I right?”
I slowly nodded, confirming his words.
“Half-truths, masterfully disguised lies,” the Gravekeeper said with a disgusted expression on his face. “People don’t change. I recognize his style. Listen carefully, Cat. Seeing as you found one of the Keys, I’ll tell you a story.”
Svechkin’s account was a copy of Balabanov’s with one exception—it showed the events from another angle, revealing the developers’ intentions, the story behind the creation of the Seven Brothers, and the Magister’s motives.
Sphere of Worlds was a project many years in the making—first in their minds and then in sketches and fragments of code. It was nurtured and cherished, like a much-awaited child. Balabanov’s team, then small and working mostly for the military, conducted AI research. Andrei, the future Nobel Prize winner, became the face of their group. He was pushy, charismatic, and doubtless a genius. It was he who was associated with their breakthroughs, even if, in truth, the whole team was behind them.
“That’s when he believed himself extraordinary,” Rocky told me. “He was on TV, took part in various events. He got cocky. We didn’t pay it any attention, although we probably should have...”
When they found an investor and started Sphere of Worlds, his arrogance became especially pronounced. According to the contract with Agasyan, the developers were to receive one-third of the profits—those seven pioneers who had been the core of Balabanov’s team for a long time.
“We got dividends from the company profit,” Rocky said. “A lot of money, and all of it was divided equally, despite Andrei’s formal leadership. That was our agreement from the beginning, as each of us invested into Sphere much more than we had.”
The close-knit team that had gone through fire and water couldn’t survive that. Fame and wealth brought by Sphere twisted the minds of many of its members, most of all their leader. Such was human nature: needs always exceeded capabilities.
“He changed a lot. Money spoiled him,” the Gravekeeper continued. “With a straight face, he told us that we should renegotiate our deal. His contribution was larger, and his reward should be proportional. Andrei took
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