Бесплатный фрагмент - Duke of Manna

«DUKE OF MANNA»

Author: Serge De Brook

PROLOGUE: IMMERSION

Night. The city of Rome.

The Papal Library, a secret wing that can only be entered by a combination of an ancient prayer and the DNA seal of the sacred key keeper. Inside, only one lamp burns above a marble circle lined with symbols of Time.

Jan Kowalski stands in the center of the circle.

The Elder Priest of the Sovereign Order of St. John pronounces:

— When the spirit is ready, time recedes. Show the seeds of the stars, the roots of truth, O Gate of Chronos.

He touches Jan’s forehead. Light.

A noise like the sound of blood in the ears. Time crumbles. A series of images, voices, fire, gold, the rust of old blades.

First Vision: Jan is a young prince, son of King Manna. 1113 BC.

The Order is in its infancy.

Jan is studying under the guidance of the Brother Master, but doubts fight within him.

He is called to duty, but he turns away.

He will die in a duel for the throne, leaving no descendants.

The glimmer of sunset. Jan stands on the circle.

The priest quietly says:

— You have already made mistakes. Now it is time to create.

The images of the mine waste heaps around his city on Ukrainian soil, his father in the mine, his mother with bread, the train station in Kharkov washed over him.

He returns. With knowledge. With a vision.

With a question: who was my path really?

Thus begins a story in which memory becomes a plan, faith — a weapon, and life — a battlefield for the future.

Jan Kowalski, no longer just a representative of the African branch of the Trust, but the heir to the forgotten line of the kings of Manna, felt the weight of the burden of centuries falling on his shoulders.

The visions that pierced his consciousness did not simply show him a past life, they revealed the secret of the Order of St. John — not just the keepers of history, but active participants in its formation.

His past, his death in a duel for the crown, is not the end, but only a turning point in an endless spiral of time.

Now, standing on the marble circle, Ian realizes his mission — to prevent a catastrophe that threatens the entire planet.

The images of his hometown in Donbass, his father working in the mine, his mother who always took care of the family — this is not just nostalgia, but keys to a solution.

They contain the power to resist the forces of darkness that manipulate the course of history.

He sees a connection between his past, the forgotten kingdom of Manna and modern geopolitics.

An ancient civilization possessed technologies that could influence time, and their secrets, hidden in the symbolism of the circle and ancient prayers, became the target of many enemies.

The priest, the oldest of the Order, begins to initiate Ian into the secrets of time manipulation.

explains that visions are not just memories, but maps that show the way to changing the past and saving the future.

Jan learns to control the flows of energy contained in the symbols on the circle, immersing himself in meditative practices reminiscent of the rituals of the priests of Manna.

During the ritual, he instantly studies ancient manuscripts, deciphering encrypted messages that reveal strategies for combating the enemies of the Order — the secret society «Children of Anubis», thirsty for control over time to achieve world domination.

The Elder, during a regressive ritual, sends him on a journey, following the trail of the ancient civilization of Manna.

Jan visits lost temples in the mountains of Azerbaijan and Iran, studies ancient Egyptian papyri, finding evidence of the connection between Manna, Egypt and Russia — a center that, as he begins to understand, played a key role in the balance of time flows.

He meets other members of the Order — historians, cryptographers, philosophers, each of whom contributes to his preparation.

He learns not only to control time, but also to resist time manipulators, realizing that changing the past can have unpredictable consequences.

Jan is not alone on this path. Jan and Jasper conduct research and come to unexpected discoveries that link the secrets of Manna with modern technology and global events.

History becomes not just a set of facts, but a dynamic system where every action has far-reaching consequences.

Jan understands that his path is not only to save the world, but also to find himself, to understand his present through the prism of the past.

His struggle is not for a crown, but for the very essence of time and the future of humanity.

In the tapestry of life, woven from the threads of fate and choice, in Jan’s regressive vision, a figure appears whose path is marked by purpose and illuminated by divine light.

«The Duke of Manna» is not just a title, but a testimony to a journey that goes beyond time and space, revealing the essence of the soul, connected to service to the Creator.

Born in the land of Ukraine, amidst the whispers of ancient forests and the echoes of forgotten legends, a young man found himself drawn to a calling that echoed in the chambers of his heart.

His search for truth and meaning led him on a pilgrimage of the soul, where he discovered the timeless wisdom that guided his steps on the path of the Warrior of Light.

Through trials and tribulations, victories and defeats, he remained steadfast in his devotion to the fundamental principles of life — a beacon of light in a world shrouded in darkness.

It was his unwavering commitment to serving God Almighty, the Father Almighty, the Creator of all that is, that earned him the honorary title of Duke — a symbol of honor and reverence for his unwavering faith and devotion.

For he understood that in the vast expanses of existence, beyond the veil of illusion and shadow, lies the Source of all and everything — the Breath of Love and Light that sustains the cosmos.

In his journey, he sought to embody this divine essence, to become a vessel of grace and compassion in a world yearning for salvation.

As you read this autobiographical novel of conspiracy, let the story of the Duke of Manna be a reminder that within each of us lies the potential to illuminate the darkness, uphold the virtues of truth and righteousness, and follow in the footsteps of those who serve the highest purpose of existence.

Let his story inspire you to awaken the Warrior of Light within you and embrace the eternal flame of love and light that guides us all along the path to divine realization.

CONTENTS:

PART 1. THE COVENT OF MEMORY

Chapter One — The WHISPER OF DESTINY

Chapter Summary

In the austere heartlands of Donbass, beneath low-hanging skies and upon coal-blackened soil, a boy was born whose name would one day echo across the realms of the spirit and history alike — Jan Kowalsky.

His youth unfolded amidst the clangour of steel, the hum of conveyor belts, and the quiet endurance of men who descended daily into the womb of the earth.

Jan Kowalsky was a boy born on the wide plains of Donbass, a land steeped in history and destiny — a place where the sky hung low and the soil was black as anthracite.

Donbass: a harsh realm of coal, mines, and labouring honour.

His father, Vladimir, was a miner — a quiet man, yet full of inner strength. Each day he descended into the earth before dawn and returned home only after the sun had vanished behind the silhouettes of slag heaps.

His hands were always covered in coal dust, but in his eyes lived a warm, steady love for his family.

His mother, Nadezhda, worked in a grocery store. Her care, tenderness, and nightly prayers created a space of warmth and stability in their home.

From early childhood, a fire burned in Jan’s heart — an insatiable longing for knowledge and adventure.

He dreamed of faraway lands, of meeting distant cultures, and bringing the light of change into the world.

He spent countless hours in the library, immersed in books about oceans, jungles, mountains, and pioneers.

The tales of Jules Verne, Jack London, and explorers of the Amazon and the Arctic set his imagination ablaze.

His room became a private museum of dreams.

Maps of the world hung on the walls, along with cut-out photos from magazines and notes pinned like sacred totems.

Each point on a map became a symbol — a destination he vowed to reach.

A true revelation came one day in his grandmother’s attic: a worn leather journal belonging to his great-great-grandfather Maxim, a geologist who had explored Siberia in the early 20th century.

Inside were vivid accounts of life in the taiga, descriptions of the haunting «Phantom Valley,» and a pressed violet flower tucked beside a hand-drawn map.

That valley became for Jan not just a geographic mystery, but a symbol of his inner, spiritual calling.

He began researching, asking historians, drawing new maps of future expeditions.

His parents — hardworking and humble — were slow to accept his dreams; they longed for him to choose a stable life.

But Jan had always known his path was different.

He started learning languages — first English, then even Swahili, strange to his surroundings.

He watched films, studied from old manuals, and imagined a life shaped by exploration.

His first great step came with a journey to Leningrad a bold move for a teenager.

But it was there, by the Baltic Sea, that Jan realized his dream was not a fantasy. It was a calling he could not ignore.

Jan Kowalski was a boy born in the vastness of Donbass, a land steeped in history and destiny, in a city where the sky was low and the earth was as black as anthracite.

Donbass is a harsh land of coal, mines and labour valour.

His father, Vladimir, was a miner — a man of few words, but full of inner strength.

He went underground every day before dark and returned home when the sun had already disappeared behind the line of waste heaps.

His hands were always covered in coal dust, but his eyes dwelt with a warm, calm love for his family.

His mother, Nadezhda, worked in a grocery store.

Her care, tenderness and daily home prayer formed a space of comfort and support in the house.

From childhood, the fire of an unquenchable desire for knowledge and travel burned in Jan’s heart.

He dreamed of seeing distant lands, getting to know other cultures and bringing the light of change to people’s lives.

He spent hours in the library, immersed in books about seas, mountains, jungles and explorers.

The stories of Jules Verne, London, the conquerors of the Amazon and the Arctic fired his imagination.

Jan’s room gradually turned into a personal museum of dreams. Geographical maps, photographs of exotic places, pages with magazine clippings hung on the walls.

Each point on the map became a symbol for him — a goal that he would one day achieve.

A real revelation for him was the discovery in his grandmother’s attic: an old leather diary of his great-great-grandfather Maxim, a geologist who explored Siberia at the beginning of the 20th century.

His descriptions of Siberian nature, life in the taiga and the mysterious «Ghost Valley» deeply touched Jan.

A map with this name and a dried purple flower were enclosed in the diary. «The Phantom Valley» became a symbol for Jan not only of geographical exploration, but also of inner, spiritual purpose.

He began to collect information, question historians, and make a map of his future discoveries.

His parents, simple workers, did not immediately accept his dreams — they wanted their son to find stability.

But Jan felt from an early age that his path was different.

He began to study languages — first English, then even Swahili, which was exotic for his environment.

He watched films, studied using self-study guides, dreaming of a life full of discoveries.

His first big step was an independent trip to Leningrad.

It was a bold decision for a teenager, but it was there, by the Baltic Sea, that he realized that his dream was not an illusion, but a path that he had to take. Jan spent hours in the library, reading books about travel.

Yellow pages, covered with exciting stories of explorers, sailors and discoverers, excited his imagination.

He studied maps, marking the routes of famous expeditions on them, imagining himself in the place of the great pioneers, feeling the wind in his face and the sun on his skin.

His room turned into a kind of museum: the walls were hung with photographs from geographical atlases, and the table was covered with maps, guidebooks and notes.

He dreamed not just of seeing the world, but of understanding it, of being imbued with its spirit, of feeling the pulse of each culture, of absorbing the diversity of languages and traditions.

Jan, with his dishevelled brown hair, always stained with soot from endless games in the ruins of the old factory, dreamed not of comfort, but of a storm of emotions.

His old, tattered geographical map of the world, hanging above his bed, was pretty worn out from numerous touches of his fingers.

Each country, each city, marked by him with a pencil, were not just abstract dots on paper, but entire worlds, full of mysteries and secrets, waiting for their explorer.

He spent hours in the local library, reading books about the travels of Jules Verne, Jack London, about the conquerors of the Amazon and explorers of Antarctica.

These stories, full of dangers and discoveries, kindled a fire of restlessness in his heart, made his heart beat faster.

He imagined himself as a fearless explorer, blazing new trails, overcoming incredible challenges and discovering new, uncharted lands.

One day, while rummaging through the dusty attic of his grandmother’s house, Jan found an old, worn leather diary.

Its yellowed pages, written in uneven handwriting, told the story of his great-great-grandfather, Maxim, a geologist who led expeditions across Siberia at the beginning of the last century.

Maxim described the beauty of untouched nature, the harsh living conditions in the taiga, meetings with locals and the amazing discoveries he made during his research.

The diary was like a message from the past, confirmation that his dreams were not so impossible.

At the end of the diary was a dried flower, an unusual purple colour, with a subtle, barely perceptible aroma, and a mysterious, not fully deciphered map depicting an abandoned mining village, «Ghost Valley», lost in the Siberian taiga.

The discovery of the diary was a real shock for Jan.

Now his desire to travel was reinforced by a family legend, a mystery that he was obliged to solve.

«Ghost Valley», plotted on the map with uneven lines, became for him not just a geographical object, but a symbol of his destiny, a key to discovering not only geographical, but also family secrets.

He began to collect information about the «Ghost Valley», study old newspaper clippings, consult with local historians.

Gradually, from disparate facts, the history of the abandoned village emerged, a story about the misfortunes that befell its inhabitants, about lost treasures and about the mysterious circumstances of people’s disappearances.

Every detail he found, every word in his great-grandfather’s diary, confirmed Yan’s decision to go on an expedition.

He realized that the journey to the «Ghost Valley» would not just be an adventure, but also a search for himself, his roots and his place in this world.

And the dried flower became his talisman, reminding him that even the most forgotten corner of the earth has its own beauty and secrets waiting for its explorer.

Gorlovka, with its grey five-story buildings and coal mines, seemed to Yan only a temporary stop on the way to his great dream.

He often sat on a hill on the outskirts of the city, looking at the sunset, and imagined himself on the shore of an exotic island, among snow-white beaches and azure waters.

Or in the heart of the Amazon jungle, among impenetrable thickets and wild animals. Each image in his imagination was so vivid and bright that it was almost tangible.

His parents, simple workers, did not always understand his aspirations.

They saw a more prosaic future for him: a stable job in the mine, a family, a home.

But Jan stubbornly insisted on his own.

He convinced them that his dream was not just a whim, but a life goal that he would follow at all costs.

He knew that the path would be long and difficult, that he would have to overcome many obstacles and trials. But he was ready.

He began preparing by studying languages.

First English, then he decided on an African language — Swahili.

Each new word, each new phrase brought him closer to his cherished goal.

He studied in the city library using self-study guides, watched films and TV series in foreign languages.

At the same time, he studied hard at school, trying to get good grades in order to enter the university for a specialty that would help him in his future travels.

The first serious step was his first trip and escape from home, a trip to the city of Leningrad — the cradle of naval glory.

For Jan, this was a real adventure.

It was his first time traveling on his own, his first time in a new environment, his first time feeling truly independent.

This journey became a symbol of his readiness for greater conquests. Jan returned home with his eyes glowing with impressions and a firm belief that his dream would not remain just a dream.

Chapter Two — THROUGH THE DUST OF EMPIRE

«History is not a collection of dates and battles — it is the voice of forgotten souls echoing through time.» — Sir Richard Evelyn, On the Nature of Memory (1897)

Chapter Summary

Jan Kowalsky begins his journey into the Soviet military structure. Through gruelling training and covert assignments, he uncovers the dual face of the empire: disciplined on the surface, but crumbling within.

The seeds of doubt are planted — and a deeper mission begins to stir within him.

Jan arrived at the military enlistment office with a silence honed from his youth.

His papers were in order, his uniform pressed, his mind focused.

But beneath his stoic bearing, questions stirred — not about duty, but about truth.

Assigned to a border division in Central Asia, he soon discovered that service in the Red Army was more than drills and protocol.

It was endurance, suspicion, codes spoken without words.

The terrain itself seemed to conspire against them — brutal summers, dust storms that swallowed men whole, and ancient villages clinging to the edges of empire.

At the age of fourteen, Jan made his first conscious choice — he left his hometown and headed to Kharkov.

The decision was dictated by a dream: to become an oceanographer.

Not a captain, not a navigator, but a scientist — an explorer of the underwater depths, a silent and mysterious world.

He was attracted to the waters not as an escape, but as a space of truth. The water called him to itself.

In Kharkov, he entered a technical school where they studied the basics of hydrography, geophysics and marine biology.

Among the old Soviet buildings and laboratories, among the green alleys of the student campus, he felt for the first time that he belonged to something greater.

There were people like him — young dreamers with eyes fixed on the horizon.

There he learned discipline, the scientific method, and research patience.

During this same period, Jan began to think about the essence of his attraction to the sea.

Sometimes in the evenings he would sit on the roof of the dorm and look at the stars, feeling that it was not just the ocean that was calling him, but something as ancient as the earth itself.

He could feel the breath of the elements, as if they were alive.

His interest in the oceans was heightened by his studies, but at the same time, anxiety was born within him.

The underwater world no longer seemed to him simply a sphere of science.

He was beginning to understand: behind the layer of water, behind the thickness of the tectonic plates, there was not only nature, but also history. The history of mankind, hidden under layers of time.

One day, while doing an internship on a hydrographic vessel, he stood at the side, looking at the depth chart.

At that moment, for the first time, he felt a faint but distinct voice inside himself:

«You are looking below for what you have lost above.»

This was a turning point.

He realized: the ocean was a metaphor.

His true path was not in the water, but in the very essence of knowledge. In memory. In Truth.

In Kharkov, he met his first love and faithful friend for life, Irene.

Their bond was strong and unwavering; their friendship carried through the years and trials.

Together they shared joys and sorrows, supporting each other in difficult moments and celebrating ecstatic successes.

Jan and Irene became not only lovers, but also partners in business.

Their passion for research and desire to change for the better led them to new heights.

They became warriors of light, fighters for good and harmony in the world, where every step was aimed at creating a better future for everyone.

Their path was strewn with challenges and trials, but they overcame all obstacles together, holding hands and moving forward, no matter what.

Their joint efforts bore fruit, making changes where it was especially needed, and leaving traces of light where darkness reigned.

Jan and Irene continued their journey through life, bringing light and hope to every corner of the world, where their kindness and compassion helped those who needed support and understanding.

Jan proved himself quickly — not by shouting orders, but by quiet efficiency. He read situations before they unfolded.

He listened.

He moved like someone with a second sight.

It wasn’t long before a man in a long coat from the capital took notice.

The assignment came sealed.

Its contents were simple: Transfer to a unit operating outside of standard jurisdiction. Location: Afghanistan. Role: interpreter, observer, neutral presence.

He boarded a military transport at dusk.

As the engines roared to life, Jan glanced once more at the twilight behind him — not to say farewell, but to confirm: this was only the beginning.

Kabul was not a battlefield when he arrived — not yet.

It was a chessboard.

Allies were uncertain, enemies wore no uniforms.

His orders were to watch.

To report. To disappear into the shadow of geopolitics.

But it was there, under Afghan stars, that the Order whispered again.

In an ancient bookstall tucked behind a mosque in Mazar-i-Sharif, Jan found a volume wrapped in lambskin, written in three scripts — Arabic, Latin, and something older.

The vendor claimed it had been smuggled out of Samarkand before the Revolution.

The final page bore a symbol he had seen only once before — in the attic of his grandmother’s house.

The spiral. The sword. The sun.

Their story became a legend, inspiring others to follow their hearts and strive for a better world that needed warriors of light like them.

In college, Jan tried to master the knowledge of his chosen profession as an oceanographer and at the same time diligently engaged in sports.

His passion for travel led to cycling.

He became a member of the Ukrainian youth team in track racing for the leader.

His coach was Viktor Nikolaevich Bykov, a Soviet track cyclist, who competed for the USSR national team in the first half of the 1970s.

Two-time world champion in team pursuit, champion of the all-Union and republican championships, participant in the Olympic Games.

Jan, a thin young man with piercing blue eyes and perpetually dishevelled hair, balanced on the edge of two completely different worlds.

During the day, he stared at oceanography textbooks, memorizing the complex names of planktonic organisms and the patterns of sea currents.

In the evenings, he turned into a whirlwind on the cycling track, his bike, shining under the spotlights, becoming an extension of his own body.

The combination of intense mental stress and gruelling training required colossal self-discipline, but Jan coped, it all seemed natural to him, even necessary.

Viktor Nikolaevich Bykov, his coach, was a legendary figure.

His stern, piercing gaze hid behind it a huge experience and remarkable knowledge of the business.

Bykov did not spoil Jan with indulgences.

The training was brutal, bringing the young man to the extreme limit of his physical capabilities.

But Viktor Nikolaevich shared with him not only technical skills, but also the wisdom of life, telling stories about his victories and defeats, about the difficult paths to the top and the bitter taste of defeat.

One day, after a particularly gruelling training session, Jan, sitting on a bench, thought about his future.

Oceanography attracted him with the boundless mystery of the ocean depths, cycling — with the thrill of speed and victory.

He imagined himself at the helm of a research vessel, then on the podium, to the applause of the crowd.

Viktor Nikolaevich came up to him, sat down next to him and silently put his hand on his shoulder.

Jan realized that the coach felt his hesitation.

«Jan,» Viktor Nikolaevich began, his voice calm and confident, «you stand on the crossroads of two paths.

But this does not mean that you are obliged to choose only one.

Your mind and your body are two forces that can work in harmony.

The ocean is vast and multifaceted, and sport will teach you discipline and persistence, which are necessary in any life, especially in science.»

These words were a real revelation for Jan.

He realized that he did not need to give up one thing, that his passions could complement each other.

He will continue to study to be an oceanographer, while improving his cycling skills.

And who knows, maybe it is this combination of intelligence and strength that will help him make great geographical discoveries in the future, based on careful scientific research and tireless work, based on the iron discipline nurtured on the cycling track under the watchful eye of Viktor Nikolaevich Bykov.

His path had just begun, and he was ready for any obstacles, ready for victories and defeats, ready to explore both the boundless oceans and the limitless possibilities of his own «I».

Chapter Three — THE GREY FILES

«The deeper you go into the archive, the more ghosts you meet.» — Archivist’s proverb, Moscow State Library

Chapter Summary:

Transferred to a shadowy KGB department in Moscow, Jan finds himself navigating a subterranean labyrinth of forgotten truths and classified legends.

Amid cryptic dossiers and whispered warnings, he uncovers mysterious links to the Sovereign Order of Saint John — a secret thread woven through world events.

One name reappears across continents and files: Nelson Mandela. Jan’s journey is no longer about service; it becomes a spiritual reckoning written in symbols, silence, and fate.

Jan’s reassignment to a KGB unit in Moscow was veiled in silence.

There were no goodbyes, only a sealed train compartment, a black suitcase, and a cold welcome from men whose faces betrayed no human warmth.

He was not a spy. Not officially.

His designation was «military analyst assigned to cross-border operations.»

In practice, it meant listening more than speaking, noticing what others ignored, and surviving the invisible war.

The basement of the Lubyanka was colder than legend made it.

The walls sweated history.

In the deepest corridors, Jan was given a desk, an access code, and a single task: to translate and interpret fragments of intercepted communication and defector testimony.

These were stored in what was known internally as the Grey Files — cases that lacked evidence, but overflowed with implication.

It was there he first encountered the name «Sovereign Order of Saint John.»

A whisper in a Hungarian letter, a symbol etched in the margin of a West German dossier, a phrase spoken in dread by a prisoner from Ethiopia. It made no sense. And yet, it rang like a bell within him.

Jan began cross-referencing. Obsessively. The spiral-and-sun symbol appeared again, buried in Vatican communiqués and African tribal correspondence.

He followed leads that were not meant to be followed.

A senior officer noticed — and summoned him.

«You’re a curious one, Kowalsky,» the man said, lighting a cigarette with hands that had signed death warrants.

«Curiosity here gets you doors. Or graves. Choose carefully.»

That night, Jan returned to the files.

One folder had no label. Inside: a map of Rhodesia, three photographs, and a name: «Nelson Mandela — contact classified.»

Jan did not sleep.

The summons had been issued. Not from Moscow. From fate.

After graduating from technical school, Jan began an amazing story that turned his life upside down.

Together with his best friend, with whom he grew up in Gorlovka, they went scuba diving in the breathtaking waters of Tarkhan Kut.

They were absorbed in the amazing beauty of the underwater world, and Jan completely forgot about his conscription into the army and arrival at the Kharkov military registration and enlistment office.

The policeman who found the submariners handed Jan a summons with instructions to immediately report to the military registration and enlistment office.

When Jan arrived, a «buyer-officer» was waiting for him, who offered him training at the school of military intelligence special communications specialists.

Thus began a new stage in Jan’s life — service and mastering a military specialty in the city of Pavlograd.

With burning eyes and a desire for new challenges, Jan accepted the offer and became a cadet at the special communications school.

His diligence, ability to quickly learn and determination helped him become a senior sergeant of special communications after finishing his school courses.

Cadets at the communications school were prepared for service in Cuba, but everything changed overnight and he had to continue his service in Afghanistan, where he went in December 1979, when Soviet troops had just entered to help the Afghans protect their borders from the invasion of the American military machine.

December Afghanistan greeted Senior Sergeant Jan with an icy wind and no less icy indifference of the mountains.

The Cuban sun, burned out of memory during a year of intense study, seemed so distant and unreal. Instead of palm trees — bare, wind-eaten rocks, instead of an azure sea — a brown, dusty landscape.

Instead of plans for a romantic service in the tropics — a cargo plane, crammed with soldiers, with weapons that seemed too heavy, and with a feeling of uncomfortable uncertainty in the soul.

He, a communications specialist, was assigned to a reconnaissance company operating in Kandahar Province.

The fancy equipment he had learned to use at school immediately proved useless.

The main means of communication were outdated radios, constantly wheezing and prone to unexpected failures.

Instead of cozy rooms — cold, damp dugouts, hung with wires like a spider’s web.

Night after night, Jan spent adjusting these capricious devices, fighting interference, trying to catch a weak signal from headquarters.

In the first months of the war, he was mainly busy with technical support, but he soon realized that «protecting the borders from the American war machine» was just a beautiful phrase.

The reality turned out to be much harsher.

This was not a war between armies, but a protracted guerrilla conflict, where the enemy was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

The mujahideen acted in small groups, using knowledge of the terrain and the support of the local population.

Jan saw the results of their actions — blowing up trucks, ambushes, surprise attacks. Constant tension and severe lack of sleep.

In the impassable mountains, where the sun was scorching during the day and the nights were icy, he learned the true face of war.

One day, during a patrol, they were ambushed.

Jan remembered all the training, all the theories, but the practice was much more brutal.

Bullets whistled nearby, the ground shook from explosions.

He helped a wounded radio operator, hiding behind a rock, while the rest of the soldiers fought off the mujahideen.

In this hellish nightmare, he saw the true meaning of the word «survival».

It was not just following orders, but fighting for every second of your life.

After that incident, he was no longer just a communications specialist — he became a Warrior of Light, who went through hell and understood the value of every living day.

He did not look for enemies. He looked for order — meaning. One night, on duty, looking into the tracking device, he said out loud:

«I do not spy. I observe the truth hidden under the noise.»

His colleague just chuckled, not understanding.

But Jan understood. It was an awakening.

He became an excellent student of combat training.

He was sent to a closed school at the military institute, where they taught the basics of strategic intelligence, topography, cryptography, psychology and the history of covert operations.

There he read about the ancient orders, about the first messengers of light, who had been active in ancient times — and learned about their similarity to what who he was becoming.

Unexpectedly for himself, he began to see dreams — symbolic, full of signs.

One of them was repeated: he was standing in a roofless temple, in the middle of the desert, and in front of him lay an ancient sword.

The inscription on the pedestal read: «Serve not the authorities, but the Light.»

From then on, Jan no longer doubted: his path was not limited by uniform, rank or position.

A different soldier was awakening in him — not just a state soldier, but a metaphysical one. A soldier of Light.

Afghanistan changed him irreversibly, forever leaving scars on his soul that do not heal with time.

He realized that a real war is not a beautiful picture on a map, but a dirty, cruel reality, where life is valued more than any orders and awards.

And he continued to serve, knowing that the lives of his comrades depended on his work.

Jan believed that he contributed to the peaceful development and maintenance of peace in the region, becoming an important figure in serving the Motherland.

And so, Jan’s story continued to evolve, filled with new challenges and opportunities.

His path remained full of adventures and trials, but his determination and loyalty to the ideals of the service helped him overcome all difficulties on the way to a better tomorrow.

Chapter Four — THE MANDELA ENCOUNTER

«Great men do not speak to convince — they speak to awaken.» — Journal of an Anonymous Knight of the Order

Chapter Summary

Jan is deployed under diplomatic cover to Southern Africa.

There, in the crucible of apartheid’s final decade, he encounters Nelson Mandela — not just as a politician, but as a spiritual beacon.

This encounter transforms Jan’s understanding of justice, duty, and inner freedom.

Mandela’s words become seeds that will grow into Jan’s lifelong mission.

It was Johannesburg, 1994. Officially, Jan was there under a cultural exchange program.

Unofficially, he was observing regional structures for influence, fracture, and future alliance. His mission was not intelligence.

It was insight.

Through whispered channels, Jan was brought to a quiet room behind a nondescript office.

The air was warm, the lighting soft, and the man before him neither tall nor imposing.

And yet, when Mandela raised his eyes, Jan felt as if he stood before a mountain that had learned to speak.

Their conversation was brief, coded, symbolic.

They spoke of reconciliation, of trust beyond borders, and of the fire one carries without burning others.

Mandela did not ask who Jan truly was. He knew.

As Jan left, Mandela gave him an envelope.

Inside was a single phrase, handwritten:

«Your chains are in the mind — so are your wings.»

Jan understood then: Africa was not a mission field.

It was a mirror.

And the Sovereign Trust, still veiled in mystery, had roots here.

After returning from service in Afghanistan, Jan returned to his hometown as a seasoned warrior, ready to take on the new challenges that lay ahead of him.

The Party saw him as an example for the youth and entrusted him with the post of third secretary of the district Komsomol committee.

Jan, with a longing for the merciless Afghan sun barely hidden under his tanned skin, found himself in the stuffy atmosphere of the district Komsomol committee.

His camouflage was replaced by a strict suit, and his machine gun by a briefcase with documents and a heavy volume of «Lenin’s Collected Works.»

The smell of gunpowder was replaced by the smell of old paper and sweetish dust — the smell of the stagnant life of a small town, where events were now measured not in minutes of clashes, but in hours of endless meetings.

Third secretary — it sounded almost like a joke.

After Afghanistan, where he had made decisions on which the lives of his comrades depended, this work seemed petty and meaningless.

His reports on the need to repair the school stadium or the plan to collect waste paper caused an ironic smile in him.

He remembered explosions, shootouts, fear, and now he was surrounded only by papers with reports.

However, Jan quickly realized that there were «combat actions» here too.

Less dramatic, but no less important.

He had to learn to manoeuvre in the labyrinth of the internal politics of the district committee, where intrigues and the struggle for influence were no less fierce than on the Afghan hills.

He learned to say the right words, smile at the right people, skilfully avoid sharp corners in discussions, without losing his strong character, forged in the flames of war.

His Afghan experience unexpectedly turned out to be useful.

The ability to quickly analyse a situation, make decisions under pressure, and feel people — all this helped him work effectively in a new environment.

He organized a number of events that attracted the attention of young people and earned praise from the leadership.

Sports competitions, creative contests, hikes — all this was imbued with his energy and organizational skills, which had manifested themselves early in Afghanistan.

But sometimes he was pierced by nostalgia for that time, for the brotherhood in battle, for the sense of integrity and clarity of tasks.

Here, in the district committee, everything was more blurred, the goals seemed less significant.

He found himself beginning to be sceptical about some of the party’s instructions, but for now he kept his doubts to himself.

He understood that the war had left an indelible mark on him, and his view of the world differed from that of his colleagues.

However, he decided to use his skills and experience to benefit his people, even if it was not at all how he had imagined it after returning from the war.

He continued to serve, but now in a new war — a war for a better future for his city, with different weapons and different enemies.

Jan readily took on this responsibility and worked for two years, leading the youth of his hometown.

He shared his experience and knowledge with young people who were striving for new achievements and changes in their socialist country.

As a youth mentor, Jan became an important and influential figure, inspiring young people to actively participate in public life and strive for self-improvement.

He was an example of dedication and loyalty to the ideals of socialism, encouraging young people to actively participate in the public and political life of the country.

Jan saw in every young person the potential and power for change, and his goal was to help them reveal their talents and abilities for the benefit of society.

His time as the secretary of the district committee of the Komsomol was filled with work, dedication and the desire to create a better future for all citizens.

Thus, Jan, returning from service, became a symbol of hope and inspiration for the youth of his hometown, leading young people to new heights of knowledge and aspirations.

His experience and wisdom served as the basis for the development and education of a new generation of leaders ready to bring positive changes to the world and society.

But these were not easy times. An internal crisis of the state was beginning, ideals were being emasculated, formality was replacing the essence.

Many perceived the Komsomol as a dead shell.

Jan, on the contrary, tried to breathe living meaning into it.

Jan spoke of duty, of truth, of honor — words that had long been avoided.

Chapter Five — THE TRUST CALLED MANNA

«Those who hold the vault must first empty their hearts.» — Inscription above the Chamber of Custodians

Chapter Summary

Jan is initiated into the hidden structures of global spiritual and financial governance — a trust known as Manna World Holding Trust.

He learns that beneath politics lies stewardship, and beneath currency lies covenant.

The Order is not merely historic — it is alive, and it has chosen him.

The invitation came sealed in red wax.

The coordinates were encrypted, but the name at the top was unmistakable: Manna World Holding Trust.

Jan arrived at an ancient estate in southern Italy.

Marble columns, golden lions, and a silence that spoke louder than ceremony.

There were others — men and women of various nations, bound not by allegiance, but by resonance.

He was guided through oaths, rites, and ancient texts.

The Trust, he learned, was older than any central bank, holier than any modern creed.

It existed to hold the wealth of the Earth until such time as humanity proved ready to use it wisely.

Jan’s role would not be managerial.

It would be mediatorial. Between nations, between epochs, between soul and system.

And in that chamber of stone and fire, he finally understood: he was not a witness to history.

He was its continuation.

In 1982, the regional Party boss invited Jan to an important meeting.

The offer he made him was astounding — to go to Moscow to get higher education at a prestigious educational institution, the Patrice Lumumba Peoples’ Friendship University.

This university was a unique place where students from 140 countries studied in an atmosphere of mutual understanding and cooperation.

Jan was amazed by this offer and grateful for such a chance.

He agreed to go to Moscow, where new knowledge, opportunities and meetings with people from all over the world awaited him.

Studying at the Peoples’ Friendship University was not only a chance for personal growth, but also an opportunity to get acquainted with the diversity of cultures and traditions of the world.

Moving to Moscow became the next great frontier for Jan Kowalski. The Peoples’ Friendship University opened up a new reality for him — multilingual, multi-coloured, full of debates, ideas, hopes.

Here, among students from all over the world, he felt like a citizen of the planet for the first time.

At Peoples’ Friendship University, Jan immersed himself in the exciting world of knowledge, studying in the department of international journalism.

He began to master two foreign languages — English and the African language Swahili, expanding his linguistic horizons and abilities for intercultural communication.

At Peoples’ Friendship University, among the hustle and bustle of the multilingual corridors, Jan felt like a fish in water.

English, initially familiar to him at a basic level, turned into a powerful tool.

Lectures on international journalism, rich in analytics and global perspectives, required a deep understanding of the English language, and Jan enthusiastically took on complex texts, analysing articles from leading world publications, paying special attention to the nuances of political discourse and economic terminology.

His successes were impressive — he easily coped with the academic workload, participated in student debates, arguing his positions in impeccable English.

Swahili, however, presented a much more difficult challenge.

The sound system, different from the Slavic one that Jan was accustomed to, required patience and persistence.

The grammar, with its complex system of noun classes, seemed like an endless labyrinth.

But Jan, already accustomed to academic pressure, approached the study of Swahili with methodical persistence.

He spent hours over textbooks, pronouncing words out loud, writing down grammar rules, looking for associations to help him memorize new lexical units.

He found himself a tutor — a young woman from Kenya, who patiently explained to him the intricacies of the language, telling him about the culture and customs of her country, which fascinated Jan even more.

Soon, in addition to textbooks, Jan began to read adapted texts in Swahili, listen to songs and podcasts, observing how his perception of the language changed.

He began to understand not only individual words and phrases, but also the subtleties of intonation, subtext and cultural connotations embedded in the language.

Ian enjoyed the university’s language club, where students of different nationalities interacted with each other and helped each other learn different languages.

Here Ian made new friends, broadened his horizons, and felt like a full-fledged member of a multinational community.

His knowledge of English and Swahili became not only an academic achievement, but also an important tool in his journalistic work.

He began working on a term paper devoted to the problems of international aid in East Africa.

Ian interviewed representatives of international organizations using his English and prepared materials for regional publications in Swahili to convey information directly to the population.

This allowed him to gain valuable experience.

Working with different audiences and understanding the nuances of intercultural communication.

Classes at the university, intensive language learning, and work on his coursework took up almost all of Jan’s time.

But he did not complain — he felt confident and happy.

He realized that he had chosen the right path, and his knowledge and skills would be in demand in the future.

His dream of becoming a professional international journalist was becoming more and more real.

He confidently walked towards his goal, understanding that multilingualism is not only the key to success in his profession, but also an inexhaustible source of knowledge and inspiration.

Meetings with scientists, African students and leaders from different countries became a source of inspiration and new perspectives for Jan.

He learned not only from professors and colleagues, but also from everyone who crossed his path, sharing their unique stories and experiences.

Studying various disciplines at the university allowed Jan to immerse himself in the world of journalism, master the skills of information analysis, creative writing and international interaction.

Sharing experiences and ideas with a diverse group of students and scholars helped Jan expand his horizons and understanding of world politics, economics, and culture.

The unique atmosphere of mutual understanding and solidarity that reigned at Uni was not only an educational experience for Jan, but also a spiritual enrichment.

He learned the value of friendship and cooperation between nations, as well as the importance of building bridges between different cultures and languages.

Thus, studying at the Department of International Journalism at Peoples’ Friendship University became a period of profound discoveries, unique opportunities, and valuable lessons for Jan.

This experience became the foundation for his future career and an exciting path in the world of journalism and international relations.

Meetings with scholars, African students, and leaders from different countries became a source of inspiration and new perspectives for Jan.

He learned not only from his professors and colleagues, but also from everyone who crossed his path, sharing their unique stories and experiences.

Studying various subjects at the university allowed Jan to immerse himself in the world of journalism, learning skills in data analysis, creative writing and international relations.

Sharing experiences and ideas with a variety of students and scholars helped Jan expand his horizons and understanding of world politics, economics and culture.

He learned the value of friendship and cooperation between peoples, as well as the importance of building bridges between different cultures and languages.

In his group there were two students from South Africa who came to Moscow to study on behalf of their youth league party, the African National Congress.

Jan quickly became close to these guys and became their comrade-in-arms for the duration of his studies, becoming fascinated with the history of the African people’s struggle against apartheid.

Jan, immersed himself in the world of the South African struggle for freedom. His new friends, Thabo and Linda, were full of energy and passion, vividly describing life in South Africa under the yoke of apartheid.

They told stories of disenfranchised blacks, police brutality, a passport system that separated people by race, and constant fear and violence.

Jan, raised on Soviet ideology, easily accepted their stories as confirmation of the validity of socialist ideals.

However, he also quickly realized that reality was more complex than propaganda. Thabo, an experienced public speaker and future politician, often organized small gatherings in the student dormitory.

They held discussions on nonviolent resistance strategies, analysed Nelson Mandela’s speeches, and studied the works of anti-apartheid activists.

Linda, quieter and always thoughtful, shared stories about her family and her childhood, spent in conditions of constant pressure and discrimination.

She showed Jan photos of her relatives, talking about how they fought for survival and the preservation of their culture.

Jan helped Thabo and Linda with their studies, translating complex texts and explaining some of the nuances of the Russian educational system.

In return, they taught him about the intricacies of the Zulu language and culture, sharing traditional music and dance.

They invited Jan to their meetings with other African students, where he could meet different representatives of the continent, hear stories from other countries, feel united in the struggle for freedom and equality.

Evenings were often spent watching documentaries about South Africa, reading books about the struggle against colonialism and apartheid.

Jan began to understand how multifaceted this struggle is, how important the solidarity of the international community is.

He saw not only the victims of apartheid, but also their courage, their ability to resist, their unshakable faith in a better future.

He understood that this was not just a fight for equal rights, it was a fight for human dignity, for the right to self-determination.

One day, Thabo shared with Jan the news of the recent attack on members of the African National Congress in South Africa.

For the first time, Jan saw on his face not only passion and energy, but also deep sadness and concern.

This news further strengthened their friendship, bound together by a common cause of fighting for justice.

Jan understood that his solidarity was not only words, but also actions.

He decided to put all his energy into helping his friends, spreading information about apartheid and supporting the African people’s struggle for freedom. His life was changed forever.

He was no longer just a student; he became an active member of the African National Congress and a participant in the global movement for justice and equality.

«THE MAIN THING, GUYS, IS NOT TO GET OLD AT HEART…»

They spent a lot of time together and during the summer holidays they went to a construction team at BAM to build their first kilometre of the Baikal-Amur Mainline.

Their friendship was strengthened by their shared beliefs in the need to fight for justice and equality.

The heat was unbearable.

The sun, like a red-hot hammer, forged sweat from each worker from the endless Siberian taiga.

Jan, with his hair tied up in a scarf and a sooty face, confidently handled a pickaxe, breaking up the frozen ground.

Nearby, in rhythm with the blows of the pickaxe, Tabo worked — his hands, chapped and calloused, were no less dexterous.

They worked in the same team, where on his first construction team trip, he became the commissar of the «FRIENDSHIP» team, in silence, interrupted only by the sounds of picks, groans of the earth and the noise of a rare train passing by.

The construction of the BAM was not just a job, it was their life position, their way of proving to themselves and others that they could do more than just exist.

This kilometre — their kilometre — became a symbol of their friendship, a symbol of a common goal.

In the evenings, after exhausting work, they sat by the fire, sharing modest food and telling each other the stories of their lives.

Lena dreamed of becoming a doctor, helping people, curing diseases and saving lives. Sasha saw himself as an engineer, building bridges, roads, and everything that unites people.

Their conversations dragged on until late at night, and sparks from the fire reflected in their thoughtful eyes.

They argued, agreed, and argued again, discussing politics, literature, and the meaning of life.

One day, during a break, Jan told Thabo about his grandfather, who fought on the fronts of the Great Patriotic War in the «SMERSH» — military intelligence unit.

Jan’s eyes filled with pride for his grandfather when she told him about his exploits and how important it is to remember and appreciate peace.

Thabo listened attentively, understanding his pain and pride for his grandfather.

He told her about his father, a mine engineer, who always said that honest work is the most important thing in life.

Their stories intertwined, creating a pattern of common history, the history of their family, their country, and their kilometre on the BAM.

Working in a construction team was not easy, but it united them even more. They learned to work in a team, support each other, and help those who needed help.

They became a family, a real family, connected by common goals, difficult trials and strong friendship.

Behind every blow of the pickaxe was not only faith in the bright future of BAM, but also faith in their friendship, in their shared ideals of justice and equality, ideals that they built brick by brick, kilometre by kilometre, in the vast expanses of Siberia.

Their kilometre of BAM became a symbol of their youth, their enthusiasm, and their strong, unbreakable friendship that nothing could destroy.

It was a time of solidarity, mutual understanding and respect for differences that strengthened the bonds of friendship between Jan and his friends from South Africa.

Their joint efforts and desire to change the world became a source of inspiration for everyone around them and left an indelible mark on their own hearts.

Jan was deeply touched and grateful for the award — the first state medal «For Labor Valor», which he received for his active participation in the construction team movement during his studies, in scientific and social work at the Patrice Lumumba Peoples’ Friendship University.

This medal became for him a symbol of respect and recognition for his work and dedication.

But the joy and satisfaction were not limited to this award. At the end of the work semester, the members of his construction team «FRIENDSHIP» were awarded trips to Bulgaria as an incentive for their hard work and contribution to the common cause.

This was not only a well-deserved recognition, but also an opportunity to relax and enjoy new experiences in other countries.

For Jan and his friends, this was not just a trip, but also an opportunity to strengthen their friendships, share impressions and enjoy the beauty and culture of other countries.

They met new people, learned new traditions and enriched their inner world with new experiences.

These awards and incentives became not only a pleasant recognition for Jan and his friends, but also an incentive for further achievements and efforts. They believed in the power of friendship, work and mutual assistance, which helped them overcome obstacles and move forward, reaching new heights and goals.

Thus, the awards and incentives received by Jan and his construction team «FRIENDSHIP» became a symbol of their hard work, dedication and solidarity, which made them even stronger and more united in their pursuit of the common good and harmony.

The diploma for first place in the regional competition of student construction teams proudly flaunted on the honor board in the dormitory, next to photographs of the guys captured at the moment of work — in dust and sweat, but with faces shining with joy.

Jan, as the leader of the Patrice Lumumba Peoples’ Friendship University construction team, received the Medal — «Hero of the Construction Team Movement» and a bonus, but he immediately divided the money between the team members, emphasizing that the victory was the result of joint efforts.

The return to Moscow was triumphant.

News of the well-deserved award spread quickly, and Jan was greeted as a hero. Parents, friends, teachers — everyone was proud of his achievements and the achievements of the entire team.

Even the local newspaper published a large article about «FRIENDSHIP», illustrated with photographs from the work site — the newly built first kilometre of their BAM, which now delighted them with its vivid impressions for the rest of their lives.

The article described in detail the difficulties that the team faced: bad weather, lack of materials, difficulties in organizing the work.

But «DRUZHBA» overcame all obstacles, thanks to the excellent teamwork and high professionalism of Jan, who managed not only to competently organize the work, but also to create a warm, friendly atmosphere in the team.

After the successful completion of the project and the award ceremony, «DRUZHBA» did not fall apart.

The guys, united by a common cause and victory, decided to continue their cooperation. Jan, inspired by the success, began to actively search for new projects.

They participated in charity events, helped the elderly with repairs, organized work on landscaping the city.

Their experience and fame attracted new participants wishing to join a successful and friendly team.

«DRUZHBA» turned into something more than just a student construction team — it became a real public movement focused on goodness and creation.

One day, they were offered to participate in a large-scale project to reconstruct an old park on the territory of the University.

It was a challenge that significantly exceeded their previous experience.

But Jan, confident in his people, took up the task with enthusiasm. They developed an ambitious plan, which included restoring the alleys, planting new trees, creating sports grounds and children’s play areas.

The work was labour-intensive and required not only physical effort, but also a creative approach.

They brought in artists, sculptors, landscape designers.

And again, thanks to teamwork and unwavering loyalty to its principles, «FRIENDSHIP» exceeded all expectations.

The reconstructed park became the pride of the city, a favourite place for recreation for residents of all ages.

And the history of «DRUZHBA» continued to inspire new generations of students to good deeds and creative work.

The award for the first project was only the beginning of their long and inspiring journey.

Chapter Six — THE CODEX OF MALTA

«Some manuscripts do not tell stories — they awaken them.» — Archivum Secretum, 1772

Chapter Summary

Jan is sent to Malta under the pretense of a cultural liaison, but the real mission leads him into the vaults beneath the ancient walls of Valletta.

There he uncovers the Codex — an illuminated manuscript that speaks not in prophecy, but in patterns.

What he reads shifts his understanding of the Order’s role and his own identity within it.

The island was hot, the air full of salt and tension.

Jan disembarked in Valletta with a diplomatic badge and an encrypted brief. But this time, he felt no need to pretend — the mission was sacred.

He was escorted through narrow limestone corridors until he reached a sealed archive beneath St. John’s Co-Cathedral. There, on a slab of marble, rested the Codex.

It was bound in black velvet and etched with silver. Its pages glowed faintly, as if lit from within.

The text was in Latin, Coptic, and a script yet to be deciphered.

The drawings depicted not saints or battles, but alignments of stars, sacred tools, and silhouettes of cloaked figures beneath solar disks.

As he read, Jan felt as though his memory had split open — as if what he was reading had once been written through his own hand in another life.

The Codex did not reveal a plan. It revealed a pattern — cycles of light and shadow through the centuries, and the emergence of Custodians at each turning.

Jan’s vision blurred. A phrase echoed in his mind: «He who remembers must return.»

One of them, a professor, the Vice-Rector of the University with a military background, said to Jan:

— You have more than just intelligence.

You have the essence of an intelligence officer who seeks not the enemy’s weaknesses, but the truth in chaos.

This is a rare gift. Take care of it.

These words became prophetic.

Through university channels, Jan was noticed by representatives of foreign intelligence.

He was invited to closed interviews.

This was not coercion, but an invitation to serve.

He understood: a path was opening before him, in which knowledge and duty would merge into one.

But then he did not yet know how deeply this decision would change his life. He did not yet know that a mission awaited him, connected with the ancient Trust, with the Vatican, with secrets that would change the very idea of world history.

Jan was invited to an interview in the office of the Vice-Rector of the University, where he first met a state security officer named Ahmed, who offered Ian to join the foreign intelligence service upon graduation and undergo additional training at the Foreign Intelligence Academy for further service in the African technical intelligence unit.

The Vice-Rector’s office was designed in a strict, almost Spartan style.

Dark green walls, a massive oak table, behind which sat a large man with an inscrutable face, and Ahmed, slender, with an attentive look of brown eyes, sitting opposite.