《The Age of Logos Book 1: Children of Merit》 The Dawn of Logos CHAPTER 1 ¨C The Dawn of Logos The date is June 21st, 2030. Liberty Square in Washington, D.C. is transformed into a sea of celebration and excitement. The iconic square, now the capital of the newly founded American Republic of Merit, better known as the A.R.M., bustles with activity. Bright sunlight illuminates, waves of banners, flags, and signs emblazoned with slogans like ¡°Intellect Over Ignorance¡± and ¡°Merit, Not Myth¡±. Thousands of citizens fill the space, united under a single cause¡ªthe victory brought forth by the Age of Logos. For the first time in America¡¯s history, intellect, reason, and merit now reign supreme. The square itself, redesigned to reflect the A.R.M¡¯s values, is futuristic yet functional, framed by marble columns and a massive stage at its center. On the stage, Chris Parsons, who is eighteen years old, and his younger sister, Ruby Parsons, fourteen years of age, stand side by side, statuesque figures of inspiration and leadership. Behind them, their loyal team¡ªthe cornerstone of the meritocratic revolution¡ªstands proudly, talking among themselves. Facing forward, both Parsons siblings looked out upon the roaring crowd with purpose. This moment is the culmination of four years of struggle and an unwavering vision for a world where reason prevails over ignorance. Chris adjusted the microphone, cleared his throat, as the crowd began to quiet down. He radiated confidence, his clean-cut features and composed tone striking a balance between authority and humility. "Good afternoon, my fellow Americans," he began, his voice steady yet powerful, amplified across the square. "Today, we gather to mark the dawn of a new era. After nearly four years of relentless struggles, protests, and sacrifices, we¡ªthe people¡ªhave dismantled the Old World Order. Their regime of privilege, greed, and subjugation is over. What we have built is greater than a victory... it is a movement." The crowd roared to life. Waves of applause and cheers filled the air, creating an infectious energy as banners rippled like ocean currents in the summer breeze. The new symbol of A.R.M, a design of symmetrical geometric brilliance, glowed brightly on flags held in raised fists throughout the crowd. For many here, this isn¡¯t just a celebration¡ªit¡¯s a release from decades of disillusionment, inequality, and corruption. Chris stepped back, a subtle but deliberate acknowledgment that his sister was ready to speak. With a broad grin, Ruby Parsons grabbed the microphone, her youthful energy laced with fiery passion. Despite her age, her charisma and feisty delivery hold every listener in the palm of her hand. "And for the first time in American history...," she began with a sly spark of humor. "We¡¯re celebrating something real. We¡¯ve replaced celebrity worship with knowledge worship! The Age of Logos has catapulted us from irrational beasts¡ªonly good for their wallets and consumption of fast food¡ªto rational beings capable of actual thought. America has finally decided to chase the stars..." Ruby paused for emphasis. "...instead of buying junk destined to break in two years!" Laughter and cheers rippled through the crowd, resonating with her hard-hitting honesty. The people knew exactly what she meant¡ªthis wasn¡¯t just an ideological shift, but a cultural one. For generations, America was plagued by shallow consumption, vapid trends, and empty promises of privilege. But now, things were different. They felt it. They breathed it. Ruby¡¯s grin grew wider as she fed off the crowd¡¯s energy before delivering her next pointed statement. "And let¡¯s not forget," she continued with playful sarcasm. "We¡¯ve finally set aside those childish tribal myths about psychopathic gods demanding sacrifices. America has grown up! We have evolved beyond superstition, rejecting arbitrary dogma, and even the rigid, dead ends of ''scientific materialism.'' Instead," she gestured broadly, like a conductor leading an orchestra, "...we embrace living mathematics. Libraries are full, and churches are empty! Day by day, we replace faith with reason, opinion with knowledge, and privilege with merit." The applause grew louder, accompanied by chants of "Logos! Logos! Logos!" Ruby took a slight bow before pacing around the stage with exaggerated confidence, amplifying her final points. "And thanks to our one-hundred percent inheritance tax reforms," she adds, her voice mockingly light but deadly sharp, "dynastic wealth is dead. No more elites buying power while the rest of us get crumbs. This nation belongs to you! This nation belongs to us! This nation belongs to the people of the American Republic of Merit!" The cheers now reached a fever pitch, but she isn¡¯t done yet. Her feisty tone turned sincere as she placed her hand over her heart. "And now, with the extra wealth reinvested into our commonwealth, we¡¯ve finally optimized our nation¡¯s potential. And it''s all because of you, your hard work, your commitment, and your belief in a better America. We¡¯ve won!" The electric energy surging through the crowd is almost tangible. People embraced, waved banners higher than before, and cheered as if their lives depended on it. Ruby stepped back, handing the microphone back to Chris, who now wears an expression of pride tempered by focus. He held up his hand, slowly bringing the crowd to a respectful silence. "This is only the beginning," Chris declared, his tone calm but charged with gravity. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "Victory isn¡¯t static. America, from this day forward, will be a dynamic nation¡ªa nation of dialectical change. No longer will we cling to hollow traditions or freeze under the false promise of stability. We will rise higher. Constantly. Relentlessly. Until America reaches her Omega Point." The words land with power as a ripple of anticipation spread through the square. Chris¡¯s reference to the Omega Point¡ªan ambitious philosophical concept of ultimate human potential¡ªresonates deeply with the crowd. "Starting today," he continues, "we seek the brightest minds and the purest merit. It doesn¡¯t matter where you come from or who you are. Your financial background, skin color, or history don¡¯t matter. Only your merit matters. If you can help build this better world, there¡¯s a place for you in this republic." The crowd erupted into a synchronized chant of "Merit, merit, merit!" The rhythmic call shook the air itself, creating a collective heartbeat of enthusiasm. Chris stepped aside as Ruby, once again, took the microphone one last time. Her tone is lighter now, playfully mischievous. "Let¡¯s make one thing clear," she says with mock seriousness. "We¡¯re not just embracing wisdom and reason, folks. We¡¯re also here to laugh in ignorance¡¯s face! Wisdom is even better when it¡¯s hilarious!" The crowd burst into laughter and applause once more. The Parsons siblings exchanged a smile before giving the stage back to the rest of their revolutionary team. Directly behind Chris and Ruby stands a collection of individuals representing the highest echelons of the American Republic of Merit. Each member of this team is a vital pillar of the movement¡ªa complex blend of brilliance, conviction, and personal sacrifice. Colonel Zeke Haywood, who served in the Pentagon for over thirty-five years, stood tall and imposing with his silver hair shining under the sun. Once a highly respected military officer, Colonel Zeke grew disillusioned with the corruption of the Military Industrial Complex. Initially skeptical of two children leading a revolution, he now recognizes their extraordinary capability and unwavering vision. Today, he serves alongside Major Amma Enki as a Supreme Military Council leader. Beside him, Major Amma Enki, an African-American strategist, forty-three years of age, exudes unflinching poise. She, too, defected from the Pentagon after uncovering horrifying truths and corruption at the highest echelons of power, regarding the military''s agendas during her tenure. Together, she and Zeke have restructured armed forces policy to align with the A.R.M¡¯s principles, ensuring America¡¯s military serves the people rather than the dictates of dynastic privileged elites. The Supreme Science Council is led by Dr. Jennifer Kwan, a twenty-five-year-old, Korean-American scientist, who rejected the stagnation of scientific materialism in favor of revolutionary ideas tied to living mathematics. When she joined the revolution, she became a towering pioneer and a respected public figure. Disillusioned by her field¡¯s unwillingness to embrace change, she joined Chris and Ruby, becoming instrumental in redesigning America¡¯s scientific research infrastructure. Candy Zimmerman, Chris and Ruby¡¯s best friend and fellow prodigy, serves as Supreme Religious Council leader¡ªa powerful ambassador for rational spirituality. Born into a family of reformers, the thirteen-year-old serves as an ambassador to Europe and the Middle East. Her talent for evolving religions dialectically into a Logos form of spirituality has made her an asset to the revolution. Her warm personality often complements Ruby¡¯s fiery energy. Another key figure is Captain Radley Hawk, a former United Nations peacekeeper who turned on the institution after uncovering gross abuses of power within its ranks. Alongside him stands Pablo Ramirez, a former mercenary of the private army, Dragonclaw. Ramirez defected when his conscience would not allow him to participate in Dragonclaw''s corrupt dealings. Although neither serves as a supreme council leader, the two men oversee an elite security detail dedicated to safeguarding the supreme council leaders of the Republic. Representing education is Lydia Mendez, a revolutionary schoolteacher at the Brighter Minds Academy, the school which Chris and Ruby attended, who now serves as the Supreme Education Council leader. Once discontent with America¡¯s failing education system, she now oversees reforms to ensure every mind flourishes under meritocratic equality. Under her leadership, the collective national I.Q. dramatically increased by seventy-eight percent. Alongside her stands Dr. Marla O¡¯Hara, head of the Supreme Medical Council, whose dedication to holistic health reform is reshaping the nation¡¯s approach to well-being. She believes strongly in healing, not just the body, but the soul of every citizen of the Republic. During the revolution, she was a leading figure in taking on the corrupt medical establishment, the pharmaceutical industry, and medical insurance companies. This made her a high-value target for elimination, but thanks to Chris and Ruby, she successfully took them down. Finally, the enigmatic Rutherford J. Sewickly, the former Chairman of the Old World Order, casts the longest shadow. A man once defined by unchecked ambition and power, Sewickly defected after Chris and Ruby successfully took down his massive empire with the original intention of forcing the siblings to help him rebuild it. His betrayal of the Order¡ªand subsequent dedication to the revolution¡ªbrought invaluable resources to the movement. Although there is still a bit of skepticism regarding his motives, his reformation marks one of the most striking symbols of the Age of Logos. As Chris and Ruby pose for pictures with their team, Colonel Zeke whispers to Major Amma, shaking his head in disbelief. "These kids aren¡¯t just leading a movement. The entire nation is eating out of their hands," Colonel Zeke said in astonishment. Candy, standing nearby, smiled. "And not just our nation. The entire world is watching." Dr. Kwan joined in; her tone thoughtful. "It¡¯s hard to believe what we¡¯ve accomplished in just five years. Before this, America was crumbling¡ªeconomically, politically, intellectually. Now, it feels... alive again." Major Amma crossed her arms, nodding. "And not a moment too soon. The armed forces were breaking from the inside. We have spent decades fighting wars for ¡®freedom,¡¯ only to realize we were pawns in a rich man¡¯s game." Captain Hawk grimaced but added his thoughts. "The U.N. peacekeepers weren¡¯t any better. I once believed in their mission until I realized they were disrupting peace, not maintaining it. Joining this revolution wasn¡¯t just a choice¡ªit saved my sanity." Pablo Ramirez spoke last, his tone heavy. "The mercenary armies, like Dragonclaw where I served, were no different. It was all about serving the oligarchs. Chris and Ruby gave many of us a second chance to fight for something... real." His words hung in the air as the team members exchanged solemn nods, unified in their dedication to what lies ahead. As Chris and Ruby step back up to the microphone, they deliver a final message. Chris¡¯s voice, full of conviction, carries across the square: "Let America thrive under positive liberty and reject negative liberty. Together, let¡¯s build a future rooted in truth, unity, and merit." The crowd roars once more as the Age of Logos begins its next chapter. However, it''s important to remember the struggle that Chris and Ruby Parsons and their elite team experienced to make it to this point. It all began five years ago, on the last day of school, where they began to plant the seeds of revolution. Anthems of Rebellion If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Voices Against the System If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Oathbreakers and Patriots CHAPTER 4 ¨C Oathbreakers and Patriots The quiet hum of efficiency at the Pentagon was almost hypnotic, a backdrop of orderly sounds¡ªkeyboards clacking, faint murmurings from distant offices, and the occasional intercom announcement. Within the gray walls of military rigidity, Colonel Zeke Haywood¡¯s office stood as a small but distinctive haven of purpose. The walls were lined with neatly framed certificates, military accolades, and patriotic artwork: an American flag, an eagle mid-flight, and an expansive photo of Arlington Cemetery. Zeke¡¯s large oak desk, scratched from decades of use, was cluttered with a delicate mix of chaos and method¡ªdocuments and digital tablets revealing classified data, tactical reports, and financial spreadsheets. Colonel Zeke, a broad-shouldered, silver-haired man of fifty-seven years of age, leaned back in his chair, his piercing blue eyes scanning the document in front of him. His face, weathered by years of command and hard decisions, was focused but troubled. He had seen too many anomalies lately¡ªsmall inconsistencies in the chain of action, whispers of movement within budgets that didn¡¯t make sense. His instincts, sharp as ever, told him something was off. Something big. A sharp knock at the door broke his concentration. His eyes darted up from the papers. ¡°Enter!¡± he barked in a voice laced with natural authority. The door opened smoothly, and Major Amma Enki, an officer in her early forties, entered with precision and grace. A striking woman of African descent, her long, straight, dark hair was tied back in a regulation ponytail, and her dark brown eyes held a quiet intensity. Her uniform was immaculate, and she moved as if every step had purpose. She came to a halt directly in front of Zeke''s desk and saluted crisply. ¡°Sir,¡± she said clearly, her voice steady as a rock, ¡°Major Amma Enki reports as ordered.¡± Colonel Zeke returned the salute with a nod, allowing some of the weight in his shoulders to relax momentarily. ¡°At ease, Major,¡± he said, gesturing to the chair across from him. ¡°What¡¯s the word?¡± Major Amma sat down but kept her spine straight, professionalism radiating through her posture. She took a deep breath, then placed a folder on the desk in front of him. ¡°Sir,¡± she began, ¡°while reviewing activity on our financial systems, I discovered something deeply troubling. There are misappropriated funds in our budget¡ªMASSIVE misappropriations. The total amount siphoned... at last count... is $1.3 trillion.¡± Colonel Zeke¡¯s initial reaction was disbelief, revealed only by the subtle twitch of his jaw. He leaned forward and opened the folder, scanning the pages Major Amma had handed him. His brows furrowed as his sharp mind processed the intricate web of financial transactions laid out before him. ¡°TRILLION?¡± he repeated, his voice low and disbelieving. ¡°With a ¡®T¡¯? That¡¯s not a leak¡ªthat¡¯s... an entire dam bursting. Do we have any leads on where it¡¯s going?¡± Major Amma nodded, her seriousness deepening. ¡°Yes, sir. From what I¡¯ve traced, the funds are being funneled through a maze of shell corporations. Many of the transactions indicate connections to foreign accounts¡ªsome tied to high-risk entities. It looks like a coordinated effort to launder the money and bury the trail.¡± Colonel Zeke leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled thoughtfully under his chin. His sharp eyes flicked back to Major Amma, and his voice dropped into the tone of a seasoned officer who had seen far too many betrayals in his lifetime. ¡°This isn¡¯t just troubling,¡± he said darkly. ¡°This is treason.¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Major Amma agreed. ¡°We have to act quickly. If we let this slide under the radar, it could compromise everything¡ªour military readiness, our credibility, and beyond. We need to take this to General Berg at once.¡± Colonel Zeke nodded grimly, straightening his back. ¡°You¡¯re right. Let¡¯s move.¡± A few minutes later, both officers stood outside the office of General Ralph Berg, one of the Pentagon¡¯s top-ranking officials. Berg was an imposing man in his early fifties, with short, dark hair brushed neatly to the side and piercing green eyes. His expression always carried a smugness that suggested he knew things others didn¡¯t. When a brusque ¡°Come in!¡± sounded in response to their knock, Colonel Zeke pushed the heavy door open. General Berg sat behind a glossy black desk, tapping away on his keyboard. The office was spartan but intimidating, with a giant map of the world mounted on the wall behind him. Red pins dotted every major continent. Colonel Zeke and Major Amma entered and saluted in unison. Berg returned the salute half-heartedly and gestured for them to speak. ¡°What brings you two here?¡± he asked, his tone curious but nonchalant. "You''re looking a bit... grave.¡± Colonel Zeke stepped forward, his posture rigid and voice steady. ¡°Sir, we¡¯ve uncovered some serious financial discrepancies in the budget. $1.3 trillion appears to have been siphoned off and funneled through shell corporations, tied to foreign accounts.¡± There was a beat of silence as General Berg leaned back in his chair. To their shock, a slow, almost amused smile spread across his face. ¡°$1.3 trillion?¡± General Berg said, his tone light, almost mocking. ¡°Well, isn¡¯t that a tidy sum.¡± Major Amma¡¯s brows shot up in disbelief. ¡°Sir, this is no laughing matter! This could be corruption at the highest levels of our chain of command.¡± General Berg¡¯s expression changed instantly. Any hint of amicability dropped like a mask falling away, revealing cold, calculated arrogance underneath. He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with something sinister. ¡°Oh, I wouldn¡¯t call it ''corruption'', Major,¡± he said, his voice calm yet chilling. ¡°I¡¯d call it... strategic alignment.¡± Colonel Zeke¡¯s stomach dropped. ¡°Strategic alignment?¡± he repeated slowly. General Berg nodded. ¡°You see, the $1.3 trillion wasn¡¯t stolen. It was... redirected. Every cent is being put to good use, funding initiatives that will secure the future of the global order.¡± ¡°What the hell does that mean?¡± Major Amma whispered, appalled. ¡°It means,¡± General Berg said, smiling coldly, ¡°that I¡¯ve been personally overseeing this operation. It also means I¡¯ve earned myself a seat at the table of the Old World Order.¡± The air seemed to leave the room. Colonel Zeke and Major Amma exchanged a glance, their disbelief mirrored in each other¡¯s faces. ¡°You¡¯re admitting to this?¡± Colonel Zeke said, his voice tinged with rising anger. ¡°Betraying your oath, your country, your own men and women who serve under you¡ªfor... what? A seat at the table of elites who see us as pawns?¡± General Berg spread his hands, utterly unbothered. ¡°Why not? The masses are nothing but tax cattle. They exist to be fleeced for everything they¡¯re worth. Freedom? Democracy? Patriotism? Those are fairy tales we tell the na?ve to keep them complacent.¡± Major Amma stepped forward, her face hard as granite. ¡°You realize what you¡¯re doing is treason, sir. Against everything this country stands for.¡± ¡°Treason?¡± General Berg laughed coldly. ¡°Treason is what fools call progress when it threatens their outdated ideals. Major, wake up. You can either adapt or be crushed.¡± Colonel Zeke¡¯s hands clenched into fists, his years of discipline barely holding him back. ¡°So that¡¯s how it is,¡± he said through gritted teeth. ¡°You¡¯re asking us to sell out everything we swore to protect.¡± The general leaned back smugly. ¡°Asking? No, Colonel. I¡¯m offering.¡± He gave them a calculating look. ¡°Here¡¯s the deal: $100 million for each of you. Immediate promotions to general. And¡ªbest of all¡ªa guaranteed spot at the Old World Order¡¯s table in three years. All you have to do is fall in line.¡± Major Amma¡¯s expression darkened, and she asked icily, ¡°And if we refuse?¡± General Berg¡¯s smile thinned. ¡°Then your careers¡ªand your lives¡ªare over.¡± Colonel Zeke took a step forward, his voice firm. ¡°You can take your blood money and shove it,¡± he said, locking eyes with General Berg. ¡°I follow the Constitution¡ªnot you.¡± Major Amma backed him up, her voice cold and unyielding. ¡°We¡¯ll die on our feet before we kneel at your table.¡± For a moment, a flicker of irritation passed over the general¡¯s face. Then, with a sneer, he reached for his phone. ¡°Fine,¡± he snapped, dialing a number. ¡°You¡¯ve made your choice.¡± Within moments, four uniformed soldiers entered the room, their movements sharp and intimidating. ¡°Arrest them,¡± Berg ordered. ¡°They¡¯ve just confessed to insubordination and conspiracy against high command.¡± As they were handcuffed and led out of the office, Zeke¡¯s voice echoed back toward Berg, filled with righteous fury. ¡°This isn¡¯t over. You¡¯ll answer for this, Berg. One way or another.¡± General Berg simply smirked, watching them go. ¡°Keep dreaming, Zeekey-boy.¡± In the dim halls of the Pentagon, as Colonel Zeke and Major Amma were marched away, both officers knew their lives had changed forever. But their resolve remained unbroken. Whispers of the Illuminati CHAPTER 5 ¨C Whispers of the Illuminati The sun began its descent. The golden hues painted the front of Bright Minds Academy. Children, out of school for the summer, flooded the gates, their shouts and laughter filling the air. Candy leaned against the school''s brick fence, distractedly watching the crowd as she tidily adjusted her backpack straps, waiting for Chris and Ruby. Finally, a flash of bright red curls bounced into view, trailed by Chris¡¯ more subdued presence. Ruby ran forward, waving energetically, while Chris ambled behind, a typical easygoing grin on his face. "Candy! Guess what," Ruby said as she skidded to a stop, almost bumping into her. "We have breaking news. And by breaking news, I mean breaking news to you!" Candy laughed and said, "Okay, you¡¯re being cryptic again. What happened?" "Ruby means Mom said we¡¯re allowed to stay over at your house for dinner," Chris said calmly. "Hopefully, you¡¯re ready for our endless appetites." "Endless and bottomless," Ruby said with a grin. Candy claps her hands together. "No way! That''s awesome! You guys are going to love what Mom¡¯s making. She even let me help cook this time, but only the easy stuff." "Easy stuff," Ruby said with a mocking, suspicious tone. She then narrows her eyes as they start walking. "Define ''easy''. Are we talking about peeling potatoes or... putting sprinkles on dessert?" Candy laughs nervously and says, "Umm... buttering bread?" Ruby says with a playfully dramatic tone, "Buttering bread?! A culinary masterpiece! They¡¯ll be writing books about you, Candy. The Art of the Butter Knife." Chris chuckles. "Easy, Ruby. I think we can survive a bread-buttering incident." "Only if there¡¯s dessert," Ruby adds cheerfully. The trio starts walking through the neighborhood streets, their conversation shifting as the school fades behind them. After a pause, Ruby curiously asks, "So Candy, how¡¯d your parents get into living mathematics, anyway? Was it, like, some secret meeting with guys in robes chanting equations or what?" Candy giggles, then shakes her head. "Not quite. They don¡¯t tell me everything¡ªlike, not the deep stuff. It¡¯s mostly surface-level. They¡¯ve mentioned things like meritocracy and how it¡¯s an ideal system if we want a fairer world. And then there¡¯s this... well, kind of creepy part, actually, about a small group of 6,000 men who control the world behind the scenes." "Oh?" Chris says with a raised eyebrow. Candy lowers her voice to a whisper before speaking the next sentence. "My parents say these men are mostly Jewish bankers and high-ranking Masons¡ªnot the regular ones, but the 32nd and 33rd-degree kind." Ruby widens her eyes in exaggerated bewilderment. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. "Oh. My. Gosh. The 33rd-degree type?! That''s the boss level Masons! Anything less than 32nd degree and you¡¯re stuck drinking punch at meetings, I bet." "It¡¯s kind of scary to think about," Candy says, as she cracks an uneasy smile. "My parents said the minds behind meritocracy and living mathematics¡ªthe real good guys¡ªare actually the ones being scapegoated by this group." Chris now speaks with a serious tone. "That¡¯s exactly what¡¯s happening. They twist everything, applying the Illuminati name to themselves. That way, when people stumble onto the real Illuminati¡ªthe Pythagorean Illuminati¡ªthey¡¯re automatically suspicious and assume they¡¯re the evil ones. It¡¯s a deliberate bait-and-switch." Ruby nods eagerly and then says, "That¡¯s why it¡¯s super-important to call them the Old World Order! It makes it crystal clear they¡¯re the bad guys. None of that confusion nonsense." Candy hesitates briefly, then speaks. "But don¡¯t you think some people would freak out if you said the whole Jewish banker thing? People get labeled antisemitic even if they¡¯re just repeating the facts." Chris responded calmly, but assertively. "Agreed. We never judge anyone based on race. That¡¯s not who we are. But at the same time, facts are facts. The majority of the Old World Order just happens to be Jewish. That¡¯s not a bias¡ªjust reality." Ruby added, "Plus, the Masons in the Old World Order aren¡¯t your average Joes. They¡¯re the elite, 32nd and 33rd degree, like we already said." Ruby mocked, then continues, "Imagine inviting Mason Joe from Third-Degree Club to their secret meetings. Oh, no, my generic handshake-loving friend, you don¡¯t get past the velvet curtain!" "That¡¯s wild," Candy said with a laugh. "My parents also told me that Freemasonry was originally started by the Pythagorean Illuminati, but it¡¯s not like that anymore. The Old World Order took over and twisted it into just another puppet... like the Bilderberg Group." Ruby threw her arms wide for dramatic emphasis. "Freemasonry: From Cool Geometry Nerds to Global Puppets?. That could be the tagline." Candy shook her head and laughs. "You¡¯re so weird, Ruby." "I prefer ''unique''," Ruby said cheerfully. They reached Candy¡¯s street, the smell of flowers drifting from her yard as they saw her mother, Linda, crouched by her vibrant garden. "Mom! We¡¯re here," Candy said with high energy. She then gestured to Chris and Ruby. "And guess who¡¯s coming for dinner?" Linda stood up, brushed the dirt off her hands. "Chris and Ruby Parsons, right?" She smiles warmly at the siblings. "Welcome, you two!" Candy excitedly said, "Mom, they know so much about the Pythagorean Illuminati and living mathematics. It¡¯s kind of amazing!" Linda raised an impressed eyebrow. "Really? That¡¯s not the kind of thing most young people know about. Especially with Ruby being closer to your age, Candy." Ruby said with a grin, "Oh, we¡¯re nerds. The best kind of nerds¡ªconspiracy nerds!" Chris adds with a teasing tone, "Yeah, Ruby drags me down all her rabbit holes. But it¡¯s fun." Linda laughs and gestures to the siblings, "Well, come on in. Snacks first, dinner later." They all head inside. Chris and Ruby quickly spot the bookshelves in the living room, their eyes widening as they scan the titles. Chris stood in awe of the Zimmermans'' collection of Pythagorean Illuminati books. "Wow! You have all of their books. You even have all thirty-two of Mike Hockney''s God Series books, and all seventeen of Dr. Thomas Stark''s Truth Series books. It¡¯s like... a treasure trove of forbidden knowledge." Ruby tilted her head. "Forbidden knowledge?! Okay, now we¡¯re DEFINITELY staying for dessert." The TV in the background suddenly blares with a Breaking News alert, catching everyone¡¯s attention. Diane Carter¡¯s voice fills the air. Channel 7 news anchor Diane Carter appears on TV. ¡°This just in: Colonel Zeke Haywood and Major Amma Enki, two former Pentagon officers, have been arrested for treason and insubordination. They will face a military tribunal for their alleged actions.¡± The room grows quiet. Linda stands frozen, her brow furrowed in thought. Candy tilts her head, concerned. "What could they have done to get tried for treason?" Ruby says without missing a beat, "Easy. The Old World Order set them up. I¡¯d bet on it. That¡¯s their whole playbook¡ªruin anyone who gets in their way." "That¡¯s a bold claim, Ruby," Linda says cautiously. "And one which you have no proof of". "Intuitively, though... it lines up," Chris replies. "Does anyone here honestly believe it¡¯s just a coincidence?" They all exchanged silent, knowing looks. They all agreed on the possibility of the two former Pentagon officers being setup by the Old World Order. Candy says softly, "If only there was a way to know for sure." Ruby snapped her fingers. "Wait! There might be. We¡¯ve got to call Uncle Peter. This is his bread and butter¡ªwell, that and bad dad jokes." Chris grinned and added, "And he¡¯s awesome." "Who¡¯s he?" Candy asks. Ruby said playfully, "Oh, he is a lot of things; our conspiracy hotline, our mentor in all things Pythagorean Illuminati¡ªand, most importantly, he''s our favorite uncle. He''s friggin'' awesome!" Chris smiled and nodded in agreement. "Let¡¯s call him after dinner. This is going to get interesting!" Operation Second Coming CHAPTER 6 ¨C Operation Second Coming A major meeting is set to take place in a lavish, oak-paneled boardroom atop a skyscraper, a room with a design that is intimidating and meticulously deliberate, designed to whisper power rather than shout it. A grand mahogany table stretches the length of the room, polished to a mirror shine. The walls are adorned with symbols of financial and political domination¡ªgeometric patterns, faint Freemasonic sigils embedded into the wood. A crystal chandelier hangs above the center of the table, refracting light that casts an ominous glow. Cigars burned faintly in ashtrays; the air was thick with calculated malice. Seated at the head of the table is Chairman Rutherford Sewickly, his sharply tailored suit a reflection of his ego. His deep-set eyes hide decades of scheming, and his British accent, clipped and cold, reverberates with authority. Next to him is Bradford Cohen, equally suave but with an unnerving calmness, the precision of his thoughts reflecting in every measured word. Across from them, General Ralph Berg fidgets slightly, a man of action in a room of manipulators. As the meeting began, Sewickly leaned forward, his presence filled the room with quiet menace. Sewickly opened the meeting, his voice icy and deliberate. "Gentlemen, time is a luxury we cannot afford to squander today. The collapse of the United States and Europe is, as you are all aware, imminent. Years of careful destabilization politically, economically, culturally... and yet, there are unforeseen hurdles." Cohen glanced at a folder in front of him. "Yes, sir. It seems two rather unpleasant flies have landed in our ointment. These insubordinate Pentagon officers, Zeke Haywood and Amma Enki, have defied protocol." Sewickly sharply snapped back, "Defiance is a language I do not speak." General Berg, the newest member of the Old World Order, leaned in, his voice gruff but firm. "Chairman, permit me to clean up this mess. I¡¯ll make sure they fall in line. My methods are... persuasive." Cohen cut in smoothly, "And what will happen, General, should they refuse to comply?" The general smirked slightly, with a shrug. "Compliance is the likeliest path, Vice Chairman. But if the worst comes to pass... I¡¯ll eliminate them myself." Sewickly fixed Berg with an icy stare, his tone turning dangerously threatening. "See to it that their obedience is swift, General. But mark my words... if they remain a thorn in my side, you will lose your precious seat at this table. And believe me, you won¡¯t walk away alive." Sewickly paused dramatically as beads of sweat rolled down the general''s forehead. Then he makes his threat much clearer. "I¡¯ll personally put a bullet in your skull and move on." General Berg stiffened, nodded mutely in understanding. The tension in the room thickened until Sewickly relaxed slightly. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Sewickly continued speaking, coldly and meticulously. "Now, gentlemen, onto more productive matters. We¡¯ve squeezed every ounce of wealth and power we can from the United States and Europe. They are husks now, ripe for their final collapse. But this...", Sewickly dramatically pauses, "...requires precision." Cohen added, "A controlled implosion" "Precisely," Sewickly replied. "The economic and political engines must crumble simultaneously. Humanity is conditioned to cling to false hope but strip them of their illusions, and they will beg for salvation. Which brings us... to the agenda of our esteemed guests." At his cue, the double doors of the boardroom swung open. A group of six men enters, their attire immediately marking them as Orthodox and Hasidic Jews. Their hats, long coats, and side curls contrasted sharply with the modern suits in the room, yet their presence was commanding. They are known as The Secret Order of Moses, the occult power behind the Old World Order. At their head is Rabbi Yaakov Stein, a man with piercing eyes that seem to see through to a person¡¯s soul. Sewickly stood slightly in his chair as a gesture of acknowledgment. "Gentlemen, you grace us with your presence. Members of the Order, I present Rabbi Yaakov Stein. Rabbi, the floor is yours." Rabbi Stein nodded, his voice calm yet carrying ancient authority. "Thank you, Chairman Sewickly. It is, as always, a pleasure to consult with the Old World Order. For centuries, our influence has worked in harmony. We have provided the tools... esoteric knowledge, psychological control, and the divine stories that bind societies together." The rabbi began pacing, his calm voice carried an almost hypnotic quality. He continued, "The Abrahamic religions... the synagogues, the churches, the mosques... our greatest psychological weapons. The Torah, the Bible, the Quran... these tools have kept the goyim under our control. They are chains, forged from faith, belief, and fear. For centuries, they have distracted the masses from seeing the broader truth." Cohen said with a calculating smirk, "Brilliant, Rabbi. And now, the next stage?" Rabbi Stein stopped mid-step, lowering his voice, "The time is ripe. Now, we align our puppets. Your president in America, Chairman. He will initiate a military draft. Across the West, all men aged 18 to 44 will be conscripted to war¡ªostensibly, to ''protect freedom and democracy'' or whatever their naive hearts cling to these days. The true objective...", The rabbi paused with a glint in his eyes, "...is the total conquest of the Middle East." "And once that is accomplished," Cohen asked with intrigue. Rabbi Stein answers, "We establish undisputed control over the trade routes of Europe, Asia, and Africa. Wars will leave the masses exhausted, disillusioned, and weak. And this weakness will pave the road for our long-awaited goal: the crowning of Messiah, son of David, as the sole world ruler." Sewickly leaned forward, with cold interest lighting up his face. "And resistance?" "Resistance will be dealt with swiftly," the Rabbi replied with a cold and emotionless tone. "The fundamentalists, the fanatics... they will think biblical and Quranic prophecy is being fulfilled. The believers will suppress dissent for us. Those who refuse to comply with our commands will be eradicated." He paused, his voice turning harder. "Even within the Jewish community, any low to mid-level members who refuse to align with the agenda will be treated as goyim. They are expendable... no... necessary sacrifices." A cold silence fell over the room as the gravity of his words sank in. Sewickly nodded slightly. "Cohen, reach out to our government operatives in America and Europe," Sewickly sharply commanded. "The draft must be announced within the week. No delays." Cohen nodded crisply. "Consider it done." Sewickly then turns to General Berg. "General, handle the situation with Zeke Haywood and Amma Enki. I expect results. No loose ends." General Berg stood straight up and saluted briskly, "It will be done, Chairman." Sewickly raises his hand, and the meeting is adjourned. The members of the Old World Order file out one by one, their voices murmuring in low tones. Only Sewickly and Cohen remained in the room. Cohen stood near the table, lighting a cigar. "Do you think we¡¯ll pull it off, Rutherford? Global domination, the messiah, the final subjugation of the masses?" Sewickly also lit a cigar, puffed three times, and then took a sip of his 20-year-old scotch. ¡°I¡¯m certain of it, Bradford. But just in case, there is always a plan B.¡±