The Octagon Lodge

DISCLAIMER

In the ethereal realm of fiction, where imagination reigns supreme and reality is but a distant echo, I weave a tapestry of words to spin a tale both captivating and surreal.

Within these pages, any resemblance to actual persons or occurrences is merely the whimsy of happenstance, a dance of words and meanings that converge in the infinite labyrinth of the mind.

Let it be known, dear readers, that the author stands as a beacon of vitality, untouched by the shadows that may lurk within the recesses of mortal existence. A paragon of both physical prowess and mental fortitude, I march forth unscathed by the afflictions that plague lesser souls.

However, should fate cast its capricious gaze upon me, and should I find myself departing this mortal coil ere my eighty-first year, let it be etched in the annals of history that I was not a victim of chance or happenstance, but a martyr to truth.

For in daring to expose the clandestine machinations of the enigmatic Octagon, I courted the ire of powers beyond mortal comprehension. Their designs for global hegemony, shrouded in secrecy and veiled in deception, were laid bare by the ink of my pen. And thus, in the twilight hours of my existence, I became a sacrifice upon the altar of knowledge, a testament to the perils of revealing truths best left obscured.

So read on, dear readers, with hearts both brave and wary, for within these pages lies not only a tale of intrigue and wonder but a warning of the dangers that lurk in the shadows, waiting to ensnare the unwary and the bold alike.

REFLECTION

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First they came for the Socialists and I did not speak, because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists and I did not speak, because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews and I did not speak, because I was not Jewish.

Then they came for me and there was no one left to speak for me.

Martin Niemöller (1892–1984)

Contents

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DISCLAIMER

REFLECTION

Contents

PROLOGUE

The Oval Office - West Wing of the White House - Washington DC - 08:50 - Tuesday January 23, 1961.

President John F. Kennedy - Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, New York City - April 27, 1961

Dickey talks too much

Oval Office - West Wing of the White House - Washington DC - 08:50 - Wednesday 3 July 1963

The Octagon Lodge, Lucerne Switzerland - 21:50 - 5 July 1963.

A Chain of Murders

The Warren Commission

The Octagon Lodge, Lucerne Switzerland - 9.50 pm - 1st January 1964

Dr. Richard Day's Revenge

Speech by Dr. Richard Day March 20, 1969

The Chappaquiddick Incident

Octagon Lodge, Lucerne Switzerland - 9.50 pm - 1st August 1969

KGB Headquarters Lubyanka Palace - Moscow - 15th February 1970

Pacific Fleet - Silent Weapons for Quiet Wars - May 1979

TOP SECRET

Hachette Filipacchi Medias US, Inc., Headquartes - New York City - July 1, 1999

President Herbert Walker Bush sr. - January 16, 1991:

The Octagon Lodge, Lucerne Switzerland - 20:50 - 5 July 1999

The Octagon Lodge, Lucerne Switzerland - 20:50 – 1st August 1999

Bilderberg Group Summit - from 07 to 10 June 2018, Turin - Italy

Bilderberg Group Summit - from May 30 to June 2, 2019, Montreux Palace Hotel - Switzerland

4th floor - Montreux Palace Hotel - Saturday 1st June - 6.30 pm

Meeting between the American representative and the head of the World Health Organization.

Octagon Lodge, Lucerne Switzerland - 21:00 - September 11 - 2019

The False Pandemic

Two friends and a beer.

The Reaction

Monti Lepini, Lazio, Italy - 10:09 pm - 11 October 2022

The World Civil War - Anno Domini: 2023

Descent into the world civil war

Humanitarian crisis

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

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THE DIVINE GAME

They descended upon the globe, ethereal beings cloaked in the veils of mystery, their presence a whisper in the winds that swept across continents. With silent steps, they positioned themselves at the very antipodes of the world, where the forces of gravity seemed to converge and diverge in a cosmic dance.

From their vantage points, they observed the world below, its vast expanses teeming with life, its cities pulsating with the rhythm of existence, and its creations spanning the spectrum of ingenuity and innovation.

After a period of contemplation, it was the being on the right who broke the silence, their voice resonating with an otherworldly timbre. I am satisfied, they declared, their gaze fixed upon the panorama spread out before them.

A moment passed, pregnant with the weight of cosmic deliberation, before the other being responded with a simple acknowledgment. Okay, they conceded, their own thoughts shrouded in enigmatic mystery.

In a realm beyond mortal comprehension, their consciousnesses intertwined over the expanse of the world, merging and melding in a dance of cosmic significance.

Begin, commanded the first being, their voice echoing through the vastness of space.

The other, with a gesture that defied the confines of time itself, erected barriers against the relentless march of Time, carving antipodal pathways through the fabric of reality. They turned their attention to the inhabitant situated at the opposing vertex, a mere speck in the grand tapestry of existence.

Select, they instructed, their voice a whisper that resonated across dimensions.

With a gesture as subtle as the flutter of a butterfly's wing, the inhabitant made their choice, their decision reverberating through the cosmos.

That, they affirmed, their voice carrying the weight of destiny.

And in that moment, the other released the chosen element, a cascade of energy rippling through the fabric of spacetime. Simultaneously, they realized the inevitable consequence: the emission of a particle taking the inverse trajectory, a reflection of the cosmic balance that governed their actions.

I acknowledge the sacrifice, declared the first being, their voice tinged with solemnity. Choose, they urged, their gaze fixed upon the other being, their souls bound by the ineffable ties of destiny.

I am Pater, declared the being on the right point, their voice resonating with the weight of eons. Three moves each, they proclaimed, their presence a manifestation of ancient wisdom and timeless power.

And I am the Mater, replied the other, their voice a soft echo across the expanse of existence. Three moves, as agreed, they acquiesced, their essence intertwined with the very fabric of reality.

I shall take the first step, declared Pater, their resolve unyielding as they gazed upon the tapestry of history spread out before them.

I shall follow suit - approved, consented Mater, their words carrying the weight of destiny.

And with a subtle shift in the cosmic balance, the timeline was suspended, the march of time held in abeyance as they embarked upon their celestial game.

Pater, with a gesture that defied the constraints of mortal comprehension, moved beyond the confines of time itself, traversing the annals of history with ease. In the depths of the Paleolithic era, they manipulated the earth itself, extracting and shaping metal deposits throughout southern Europe with a mere thought.

First move completed, they declared, their voice a whisper that reverberated through the ages.

Meanwhile, Mater, their gaze piercing through the veil of time, journeyed to the second century B.C., where they orchestrated a fateful intervention in the life of Marcus Porcius Cato, disrupting the flow of history with a single, decisive act.

First move completed, they echoed, their presence a silent shadow in the tapestry of time.

As the cosmic game unfolded, Pater descended upon the 4th century AD, weaving their influence into the very bloodstream of Eunapius, the Lusitanian Falcon, with a precision that defied mortal understanding.

Second move completed, they intoned, their essence intertwining with the currents of fate.

Meanwhile, Mater, with a grace born of timeless wisdom, journeyed to Damascus in the 8th century, where they enacted a subtle yet decisive maneuver upon Zosimus the Alchemist, altering the course of destiny with a single, whispered breath.

Second move completed, they murmured, their voice a gentle caress upon the winds of time.

Pater, ever vigilant, studied the unfolding moves with a keen eye, acknowledging the subtlety of Mater's strategy.

A subtle move, indeed, they remarked, their voice tinged with admiration. But not enough... I believe, watch, they continued, their gaze fixed upon the shifting sands of history.

And so, with a decisive gesture, Pater moved to seventeenth-century England, where they erased all traces of forbidden experiments from Isaac Newton's laboratory, altering the course of scientific inquiry with a single stroke.

Third move completed, they declared, their voice resounding with the weight of inevitability.

But Mater, undeterred, descended upon England in the early 19th century, where they orchestrated the untimely demise of Charles Babbage, disrupting the course of technological advancement with a single, fateful act.

Move number three completed, they announced, their presence a silent testament to the power of their will.

And as they both rested, studying the positions laid out before them, Mater broke the silence with a question that hung heavy in the air.

Are we ready? they asked, their voice a whisper that echoed through the void.

Ready, affirmed Pater, their voice a solemn oath to the cosmic game they played.

They returned along the linear path of time, retracing their ephemeral steps from the point whence they had embarked on their cosmic game.

Timeline 1: 10,000. Activated!

In the blink of an eye, the temporal sequence unfolded beneath them, swift as the crack of a cosmic whip.

But once more, they veered away from the linear flow, choosing to pause and contemplate the repercussions of their actions now that the grand tapestry of history lay unveiled before them. They scrutinized the outcome with a discerning eye, observing the intricate threads of causality woven into the fabric of existence.

In this altered reality, Southern Europe blossomed with vitality. Rome, once a mere shadow upon the landscape of time, burgeoned into power centuries ahead of its previous trajectory. The conquest of Greece unfolded with swiftness, and the flames of war consumed Athens in a blaze of unprecedented intensity.

The demise of Cato the Elder ushered in a postponement of the last Punic war, allowing Carthage to extend its dominion eastward and southward, expanding its empire with unbridled ambition.

With the untimely passing of Eunapius, the resurgence of Mithraism faltered, and the mantle of Christianity ascended to become the state religion of Rome. Across the Mediterranean, the Carthaginians embraced Mithraism as their own, cementing its status as the cornerstone of their empire.

The clash of civilizations, once looming on the horizon, was deferred until the fifth century, when Carthage itself lay in ruins, its western borders pushed back to the ancient city of Alexandria.

Half a century later, the call for a crusade echoed throughout the lands, igniting a series of conflicts that would span generations, fracturing the Carthaginian Empire and sowing the seeds of discord within its vast bureaucracy.

As the dust of battle settled, economic woes gripped the Mediterranean with an iron grip, plunging outlying territories into rebellion and chaos. The once-proud empire teetered on the brink of collapse, descending into a dark age reminiscent of times long past.

In the distant corners of Asia Minor, the printing press remained but a distant dream, its revolutionary potential unrealized in this altered reality.

Until then, anyway, remarked Mater, their voice tinged with a hint of resignation.

But look at what Newton achieved, countered Pater, their gaze fixed upon the shifting currents of fate. I saw his potential even amidst the alchemical pursuits of his youth. His contributions to science were nothing short of miraculous.

How could you have foreseen? inquired Mater, their curiosity piqued.

This is the difference between a good player and an inspired one, explained Pater with a chuckle. I sensed the trajectory of his genius long before it came to fruition. Your move, alas, was too little, too late.

Mater sighed, acknowledging the truth in Pater's words. Indeed. I had hoped to thwart the rise of their computers by eliminating the founder of International Business Machines, Ltd.

It was a stroke of irony, mused Pater. Instead of an IBM 120, they were gifted with a young naturalist named Darwin aboard the Beagle.

Mater cast a somber glance towards the end of the sequence, where radioactive dust scattered across a desolate globe.

But was it science or religion that ultimately sealed their fate? questioned Mater, their voice heavy with contemplation.

Neither, declared Pater with conviction. It all boils down to emphasis.

You were fortunate, admitted Mater, their competitive spirit reignited. I demand a rematch.

Very well, acquiesced Pater with a wry smile. But this time, the choice is yours: Mater or Pater?

I shall remain with Mater, decided Mater, their resolve unwavering.

Then let the games begin, declared Pater, a glint of anticipation in their eyes. "And may the