Chapter 0 - Riding in despair

Riding the bike at least twice a week wasn’t just a hobby—it was something much more. Sometimes it was a time for discovery and in others escaping from the world into a ritual of sacrificial pain. To find something, what all should have, a place of solitude and peace. This over the years had risen to a necessity for his existence. He wished he had the energized time and freedom to ride every single day.

A life crazed by the cruelness of the world, lost by the past and bamboozled by the present good and bad experiences, was always somehow brought back to a balance on two wheels. To think of nothing but the tarmac passing underneath the steadied rhythm of spinning pedals had provided a meditation he always returned to as his refuge. Sometimes it was the flow with nature's passing wind, working together to release clouded memories and making way for clearer thought. Other times the bike had become the simplest remedy for tragedies in life. A return to oneself that never let him down when searching for his next move on and allowing his mind to wander unexplored thoughts with an all powerful endorphins easing any physical or mental pain.

No matter the memory, deepness and despair found at the base of the valleys, standing somewhere on the horizon was another great mountain to climb. No matter how dark the past or present, there had always been something positive to hold onto. But in today's world all of that has changed. Today he rode for something beyond enjoyment, and the most concerning was what should have plagued his mind, that this ride could so easily be his last. A sense of hopelessness only ensured challenging the gods to end this madness. The power of a skynets matrix enforced severe head and heart pains and riding had now become a standing ground, a thing they could not take from him, a place of defiance and resistance to all pain.

id: d719138d-c629-4184-b8b1-fc514465c0ac "My refusal to bend the knee or play the game is supposed to give me your brain tumors, hurry up and bring it on". While the heart gulped and ached he would sometimes shout to the gods, "go on just do it." To push through the head pain almost every time at twice a week took more than he had. And afterwards, the price was for the migraines becoming more severe, exhausting him to the point of sleep. On today's rides he was further searching the past for something to answer the simple why.

id: 5dd0d0fb-d3bf-457d-9557-d279281db2a7 Why was he alive, why had an evil had so much deceiving power controlling his paths. Hoping to only reach the architects or creators and to impossibly bypass the evil's ears he asked questions through a compromised type of chatter. "Yes, at first it was fantastical but now enlightened it is so impossibly unfair, undeservedly crushing. Why had the creator allowed man the power to create such oppressive cruelty I now know to exist and what does this mean for other targeted individuals and so many children of the future", he would ask over and over. "Answer me now", he would yell.

id: be188a0b-864f-40c4-9e79-d81ffe4e0654 Spiritualities had bamboozled him so much, he saw them as the perfect place to hide, like the punchline in any good joke. Religions, meanwhile, never offered any real answers. They came loaded instead with the obvious weight of control and oppression.

id: 1661e8bf-04b9-41a2-8104-0ed2c9e77bf8 Faith hung on the cross, waiting centuries for a messiah who never showed. Meanwhile, torture, rape, and contradiction marched on. To him, putting hope in that kind of faith was no strategy at all, serving only those who did the dirty work, or those who looked away.

id: 924a078d-ab37-4fbf-976f-68793b86b580 The obedient are chosen to start again, exempt from responsibility, doing nothing until their version of God returns. Especially in this time of finding more and more old texts, and rewrite the past — religion and spirituality seemed more like branches of occult thinking.

id: 6f97e00e-27e8-46d3-8659-99dcc5df5b52 “For there to be an us, there has to be a them,” he thought. Shaking his head at his own logical thoughts.

id: af371de6-e9a4-4b01-889d-c58bf59d1088 Standing up, his bike is pushed from one side to the other while the quarry stones set into the tarmac gripped to the rubber tyres. Coming over the top of the small hill a black leather chair is standing up on the side of the road. Someone probably not able to afford the expenses of tip charges country tipped their old chair. The chair was usually lying down in the three foot high grass that grew roadside and had been there for weeks but today was different as the chair was for the first time standing up. Each time he rode past that chair he would think about how comfortable it might have been on his lower back. He had become accustomed to a very hard bottom computer chair that each time sat in, reminding him of the discomforts of life and just how uncomfortable life had become.

id: f0ee3b62-5c64-4cfb-a848-ad66d7ea2db2 Deciding to muse over the chair he gently squeezes his brakes while being careful of the immediate roadside gravel. The chrome swivel base has a bit of rust surrounding and there are small tears in the artificial leather. Despite the signs of wear and tear he thinks to himself, I bet it is still very comfortable with its thick but firm padded surrounding sides and bottom. But it is a shame we have to put up with this leather imposter material. Just another insidious sign of the hidden emperor's rule. I hear the type of roundtable planning and coming from the end a loud pompous voice says, "Flood them all in the cheapest of material things, they will never know the difference or matter.

id: 0232556d-e15e-472f-950d-1fa87778fe62 In the quietness of the countryside day he breaks the silence to ask himself, "How can I take this home, it's too heavy to strap to me or my bike". The inherit skynet gaslighting had ensured life as an outcast, gaslite by society and humanity he had nobody to turn to for a favor or help so he simply laughed at the chair. "Oh the audacity of a chair I cannot even have, did you chair stand yourself up to tease me or just to remind me I am to have nothing I ever want or are you somebody's seconds, also in despair." Laughing again at his thoughts and the fact he was speaking to a flippin chair, he feels a sudden urge to cry and decides to overcome emotions with a few words of conviction. "Oh bugger you chair I shall seek you out in the next life or other dimension. And when I do I will seek you out a brand new, if needed changing you to leather and I shall ensure your steel is properly primed to never let you rust as you are now", he says to the chair while also sliding his rear back onto his bike seat.

id: 07bf29a0-ca50-48e7-9c24-b5297293330b Balancing on one tiptoe he prepares to snap his feet back into the cycle clip pedals. It was an uneven gravel and launching as the tip of one shoe slips off an unstable larger stone sending him sideways over into the grass and down beside the chair. The grass between the road and paddock is at least two foot high and on his back he felt as if hidden from the world. "Darn it I've no more words for you now", he says to the chair and looking straight to the underside he bangs his hand down to attempt his sit up. Catching his eye was a small glinting of something that had shone through the smallest of tear in the underneath upholstery.

id: 0baa31e0-4f34-4e15-981d-20c1cc52dc89 Chapter 1 - The Bean

id: a7e3b1f1-3980-46a0-a1b1-7d246e1043b3 "What's that chair, are you hiding secrets", he jokingly says and reaching up underneath he squeezes a finger between the fabric material. The index finger feels nothing but a void so he pushes harder, ripping the fabric a little more. He squeezes two fingers and fumbles straight into a smooth lumped kidney shaped object. Probing the lumps sides he could feel the edge of a residue tape holding it in place. A curiosity took over while quickly reaching up with his remaining hand to assist the other in ripping the tear clean across the base of the chair. Into full view is the smoothes of objects and the sight of it haunted him in an instant. Uh, how did you glow and how did you manage to catch my eye swirled in his mind amongst a growing anxiety. The large purple and black broadbean and its significance only he was to know because of a very old memory. Broad beans had been a gift from his dying grandfather and second of all time memory from the age of just two.

id: 6645205c-f7a1-4017-b48f-8491f0347d68 His mind suddenly swamped in questions before an intuition slows everything down. The world paused as he reluctantly forced himself to face the reality of what seemed only certain. The size of the original tear had required for the bean to be placed before the cloth underside was stapled to the bottom. Panic crept in; this was no finding or mistake.

id: 2a6556b1-ab55-406a-a731-63e1b492a457 In a past period to life, he was enlightened to his own coincidences, the sudden knowledge on how free will can be stolen was a knowledge even in the worst of times, never sorte after or he would ever had wanted to know. Life forever worthless when - as if simply by email the new understanding of who and what is pulling the strings from behind the curtain.

id: 799caf92-24f9-4566-b465-0898c6927b53 The most painful revelation came in the form of shame, so surreal and as if delivered from beyond world. A cruelty forged in steel and branded straight into the undeseved heart takes forever to fade. He had hoped patterns would remain hidden and to never again pick up on signs or clues. Especially those he knew to be planted by the most treaturous kind of human beings, pure evil.

id: d48db815-7de6-4d9c-bcca-ebc05b0c1b4f Of the ones that play the game by choice, asked or forced, he thought of all often and from all angles he could find. Who choose compliance, even profit, over conscience. Were they scared, happy, or just fundamentally different than him?

id: bc8314ab-e71f-4e31-8dcf-51425815ede2 Some days he believed it was jealousy — the twisted kind that curdles into hatred. Hatred with a smile. And always, his thoughts returned to their mothers.

id: c38353d8-1f8b-4a00-9e2c-4f9ebdf9e0ec Maybe they never knew them as friends. Maybe their mothers were cold, witchy, sharp-tongued. Either way, he couldn’t shake the image — their warped loyalty possibly rooted in a simple thing: a mother who never looked at them with warmth.

id: 8abb235f-7463-4eea-8a20-b7eb8e563db3 An uneasiness of tension fired through his heart with an irregular beat and goose bumps chilled the side of his head and face in response to a sweat trickle. "No way", he muttered before shouting, "No fucking way assholes, I am not playing your games."

id: f5532130-581c-4ce0-a8ec-a8b67960f583 The forwards arche of his upper back strains before a totall callapse of exhaustion spreading to his every limb - as if he'd just finished his first marathon. He stared up at the clouds in the sky and saw nothing. The world dissolved in silence. It was as if time had sped up and stopped all at once, until everything vanishes.

id: 8d4c5a0a-d97a-4b65-a424-bd710f19c8bb Out of nowhere a burst of electromagnetic energy had exploded in the skies directly above. The pulse in an instance had momentarily flattened him and all surrounding reeds. He felt the weight of a gravity to the point of being unable to move or lift a finger against it, before release and just as quickly the force was gone.

id: 87bf52dd-6a55-4981-be1a-7ac08951331f "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to call youse….", he barks straight back up into the air before his voice quietly stumbles, "assholes".

id: 2f6fc3ee-06fe-40f7-8fd0-c95b6d8578a1 First looking one way he scopes the full side of view. From his back he springs to lie on his belly and quickly scoping the full surroundings. The reeds slower to recover are back up standing tall again but not before he'd caught another glimpse of something.

id: 36f87b1f-6073-49c9-a839-06b05903b6db That something had been a dark blur set not far behind the reeds of grass and instantly sending a spasm of chills crawling up his spine as he knew the dark object had just now arrived.

id: 72121856-40a8-475c-b45b-f83ba64b3b3b The rolling hills of farmland were all but barron with some green grass and empty seasoned grain fields, some small gatherings of pine trees dotted on fence lines and this a dissecting road.

id: aa738c10-a738-45c8-9f0d-044b84e3f144 He buried his face in the reeds with a mind racing to find another reality. "Maybe it was a curiosity of a cow. That's it, a simple curious cow had quietly wandered over to take a look". "But this bean, this explosion in the sky, all more coincidences." Nervously he decides to take a look first pushing with his hands and slowly lifting his head.

id: 078883d7-674c-4a62-a29b-d2daf51d86c6 Chapter two

id: c42b4874-6a0a-406d-b71a-81969bcdd1f7 Back home again he contemplates everything they had told while steering down on the bean. He sees his memory in his mind and in black and white. The weathered head of a doorway passes overhead. Then his hands lit up by a narrow white light. The light full of dust particles streamed through the high elongated window down to the center of the dark room. His small hands dip into the large cardboard box and he could feel the smoothness in the beans while lifting them into the light. He sees random patterns, a camouflaged shiny purple and black as they tumble off each side of his small open hands and back down into the cardboard box.

id: 055df9b4-2d07-4c2c-9a4f-0b8ccca33ece He knew the memory had never been planted and if it had it would hold no relevance. It's because this was his own memory which made it all the more visionary and important. The passing on of a secret message from a dying grandfather to grandson. A connection to his grandfather he only wished ....

id: ef9dab79-70e3-4811-b7b8-a9203cd91b7f Chapter one - The Key

id: f9ef31ea-034d-4d4c-ab70-15527fe3798b "What's that chair, are you hiding secrets", he jokingly says and reaching up underneath he squeezes a finger between the fabric material. The index finger feels nothing but a void so he pushes harder, ripping the fabric a little more. He squeezes two fingers and fumbles straight into the object that did not take him too long to recognise as a large skeleton door key. In his past life as a carpenter he had fitted many types of locks to doors, leaving him with a knowledge and the size of the key only adds to all intrigue, noting instantly it must be very old and no ordinary key. He's quick to reach up with his remaining hand assisting the other to rip the tear larger and exposing into full view the key that had been mask taped to the underside.

id: 9cd3b4d5-b53a-4c29-a418-c3a616dcf5d2 The large, well honed metallic bow handle gleamed and the single digit code moulded centre above the barrel was not recognisable as a numeral he knew. An array of questions speed threw his mind before instinctively concentrating on what seemed only curtain. The sizing of the original tear had required for the key to be taped in position before the upholstery covering, meaning this was intentionally placed there. Panic crept in with all notions; this was no finding or mistake. In a past period to life, he was enlightened to all coincidences, killing all sovereignty over his soul and leaving him with a knowledge of string pullers behind the curtains. To follow was an out of this world type shaming he felt never deserved and was never able to forget. He had hoped patterns would remain hidden and to never again pick up on signs or clues. A sudden uneasiness of tension grabbed at his heart and mind. He feels a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his face. "No way", he murmurs before shouting, "Fuck off assholes, no way, I am not playing your games."

id: fe4ac884-4234-4cb3-9005-1190b0b7cb5a Suddenly an enormous gust of wind punches down from the heavens, flattening the reeds in an instant. He's startled into a heightened state of alertness. First looking one way while flipping to his stomach , he coast the grounds making sure to look covering all directions. The blast had been quick and powerful and was gone just as quickly, allowing the reeds to bounce back stiff and upright but not before he again had glimpsed something. That something had been a dark blur set not far behind the reeds of grass and instantly sending a spasm of chills crawling up his spine as he knew the dark object had just now arrived. The rolling hills of farmland fences were all but barron with empty seasoned grain fields, dotted throughout some small gatherings of pine trees and this a dissecting road.

id: cb58e2ec-4685-4108-adbc-366ceacb6d9c His face buried in the reeds with a mind racing to find another reality. "Maybe it was a curiosity of a cow. That's it, a simple curious cow has just wandered over to take a look". "But this key, this sudden wind, all more coincidences." Nervously he decides to take a look first pushing with his hands and slowly lifting his head.

id: 6751495b-96ee-4606-9a02-3e351d65b9eb Chapter two

id: 50e0cbac-1888-450f-84d8-84618da2fb46 Back home again he contemplates everything they had told and looks down upon the key in his hand. The moving images play through his mind. A mirage heat rises from the quiet deserted roads under the midday Portugal sun. The sky cloudless and royal blue as he traversed the roads of the hilly range. He comes across a small bridge at the depths of the valley with freshly painted bright yellow sides that in contrast to the day had a cooling effect in his eye. While crossing the bridge underneath was the dry river bed without any life to be seen. Under the dry scorching heat he’d wondered how many snakes came out of the hills in search of a trickle of water.

id: af4904b7-75d1-493a-880c-308b22868ff8 He rode the side of the last hill to the range stretching out like a guiding arrow to form the range's peak to the south and the hill breaking off before rising again and the forming of the elongated hill set above the next plains.

id: b78a35fb-8bf3-432a-81b5-ba709b2a84ca It was the sudden finding of a secret, mystery and unknown, just like the suddenness of a memory that comes from nowhere or in a dream a blindfold is removed and the filling of your eyes is a castle. It had high masonry walls that ran down either side of the narrow 100 metre wide hill and at the least was1.5 km long - amazed he'd never witnessed such a long historic defence wall. There were many surprises while riding across vast lands but how the castle was only discovered from its base left him with one of the discoveries of all time while on the bike.

id: b835ec40-9b85-4bc4-9d01-4ef69196d1d5 It was always concerning when without lights and where each day might end. This ensured an urgency was needed for each day's ride, leaving time for setting up tents in the more comfortable of places. Although he'd felt the urgency to carry on he could not help himself to ride into its tourist atraction of courtyards.

id: 30dbd6be-0786-4b99-9e33-38de32e6fe49 Upkeep was obviously always kept to the highest masonry standards and as if owned by a royalty. But as suspected after his coincidences revealed it wasn't royalty or another aristocratic family that owned this castle and now this key confirmed it.

id: 60e1f890-d275-4f85-91bb-11bf88660b78 That castle for them was a new beginning. A hide out from Catholicism and King Louis III and where those who escaped too, avoiding the trials of heresy. Most had been burned at the stake and formerly known as the Knights Templars.

id: 491151e5-8a3f-46fd-9619-a7c2928efc37 The few that survived now formed new alliances under the secret society name of The Rosicrucians and joined in partnership with an old connection, the Illuminati. The recent accounts of betrayal by a King and Pope was to make sure they would forever remain out of all enemies' sight and hidden. They had established themselves as if only a rumor and amongst the higher circles if ever accused of being a Rosicrucian a common reply would be, how could i be if you know my name. This cemented a pact that was to resist any Kings or Popes to follow.

id: 14ca2079-13f2-49e6-aa02-04c2e863bb6c Combining resources, architects, lawyers, artists, writers, alchemists, mystics, swordsmen, hedgemen and intelligence they constructed their methods and set about their future plans for a new world order. First up was infiltration of the already established Freemasons, gaining complete control of all new developing countries and regions. Back then in the early 14th century it was all up for grabs and their secrecy was the long term assured plan. It was from this very castle they intended to infiltrate every Royal family, governments, churches, banks, institutions and eventual complete control. But what is not known is their fundamental beliefs and how much of the demonic rumours are true. Who and what are they exactly.