The sun was setting over the city of Ljubljana, casting a red glow over the rooftops and the river. The streets were deserted, except for the occasional moan of a zombie or the sound of gunfire. A group of five survivors was making their way to the castle, hoping to find a safe place to spend the night.
Luka was leading the way, holding a shotgun and a backpack full of supplies. He was a journalist who had been covering the zombie outbreak since it began, trying to expose the truth behind the mysterious virus that had turned people into flesh-eating monsters. He had seen things that no one should ever see, and he had lost many friends and colleagues along the way. He was determined to find out who was responsible for the apocalypse, and to make them pay.
Maja was following him, clutching a first-aid kit and a pistol. She was a nurse who had been working at the hospital, treating the infected and the wounded. She had witnessed the horror of the disease firsthand, and she had done her best to save as many lives as possible. She had also seen the cruelty and the chaos that had taken over the city, and she had lost her faith in humanity. She was loyal to Luka, who was her boyfriend, and she cared for the other survivors, who were her friends.
Ivan was driving a modified car, with a metal plow attached to the front and a machine gun mounted on the roof. He was a mechanic who had been working at a garage, fixing and upgrading cars and weapons. He had a dark past and a criminal record, and he had never trusted anyone. He had survived the zombie outbreak by being smart and ruthless, and he had joined the group only because they had something he needed: a map to a secret bunker where he hoped to find a stash of gold and jewels.
Ana was sitting in the passenger seat, holding a teddy bear and a rifle. She was a teacher who had been working at a primary school, educating and nurturing children. She had a bright personality and a hopeful outlook, and she had always believed in the goodness of people. She had tried to protect her students from the zombies, but she had failed. She had lost her innocence and her joy, and she had clung to Ivan, who was her neighbor, and who had saved her life.
Zoran was playing the accordion and singing a song in the back seat, with a smile and a wink. He was a musician who had been working at a bar, entertaining and charming people. He had a charismatic presence and a witty humor, and he had always enjoyed life. He had used his skills to manipulate and deceive people, and he had profited from the zombie crisis by selling information and goods. He had betrayed many people, and he had no loyalty to anyone. He had joined the group only because they had something he wanted: a chance to escape the city and find a new place to start over.
The group had met by chance, and they had decided to stick together for mutual benefit. They had different backgrounds, personalities, and goals, but they had one thing in common: they had survived the zombie outbreak in Ljubljana, and they wanted to live.
They reached the castle, which was perched on a hill overlooking the city. They parked the car near the entrance, and they got out. They checked their weapons and their supplies, and they prepared to enter the fortress.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Maja asked Luka. "We don't know what's inside. There could be more zombies, or worse."
Luka shrugged. "It's better than staying outside. Besides, I have a feeling that there's something important here. Something that could explain everything."
He showed her the map that he had found in a newspaper office. It was a sketch of the castle, with a note written in red: "The truth is here. Follow the signs of Brodar."
"Brodar? Who's that?" Maja asked.
Luka shook his head. "I don't know. But I think he's the key to this whole mess. He's the one who started the zombie outbreak, or at least he knows who did. He's the one who's behind the virus, the cult, the experiments, everything."
"The cult? What cult?" Maja asked.
Luka sighed. "You haven't seen them? They're everywhere. They wear black robes and masks, and they chant weird words. They worship the zombies, and they sacrifice people to them. They call themselves the Followers of Brodar, and they say that he's their prophet, their savior, their god."
Maja shuddered. "That's insane. How can anyone worship zombies? They're monsters, not gods."
Luka nodded. "I know. But they're not the only ones who believe in Brodar. There are others, who are not part of the cult, but who still follow his signs. They say that he's a genius, a visionary, a hero. They say that he's the one who can end the zombie apocalypse, or at least make sense of it. They say that he's the one who can lead us to a new world, a better world."
Maja frowned. "And you believe them?"
Luka shrugged again. "I don't know. But I want to find out. I want to meet Brodar, and I want to ask him some questions. I want to know who he is, what he wants, and why he did this. I want to know the truth."
He looked at her with a serious expression. "Don't you?"
Maja hesitated. She was scared and confused, and she didn't know what to think. She wanted to be safe and happy, and she wanted to be with Luka. But she also wanted to know the truth, and she wanted to stop the zombies. She nodded slowly.
"OK. Let's go."
They held hands, and they walked towards the castle. Ivan, Ana, and Zoran followed them, each with their own thoughts and motives. They entered the fortress, and they looked around.
The castle was dark and silent, but not empty. There were signs of life, and death. There were candles and torches, and blood and bones. There were paintings and sculptures, and graffiti and symbols. There were messages and clues, and traps and puzzles. There were secrets and mysteries, and dangers and surprises. There were zombies and humans, and something else.
There were the signs of Brodar.
The group followed the signs, and they went deeper into the castle. They faced challenges and obstacles, and they solved problems and riddles. They fought enemies and allies, and they made friends and foes. They discovered facts and lies, and they learned stories and secrets. They experienced fear and courage, and they felt pain and pleasure. They changed and grew, and they lost and gained.
They found Brodar.
He was waiting for them in the throne room, sitting on a golden chair. He was wearing a white suit and a red tie, and he was holding a silver cane. He had a pale face and a bald head, and he had a smile and a scar. He had a calm voice and a loud laugh, and he had a question and an answer.
He was Brodar.
He greeted them with a friendly gesture, and he invited them to sit. He offered them food and drink, and he asked them their names. He told them his story, and he showed them his plan. He explained his vision, and he revealed his goal. He praised their skills, and he tested their loyalty. He gave them a choice, and he asked them to join.
He was Brodar.
He was the one who had created the zombie virus, and he was the one who had spread it. He was the one who had founded the cult, and he was the one who had led it. He was the one who had orchestrated the apocalypse, and he was the one who had controlled it. He was the one who had hidden the truth, and he was the one who had exposed it. He was the one who had destroyed the old world, and he was the one who had built the new one.
He was Brodar.
He was a genius, a visionary, a hero. He was a madman, a villain, a monster. He was a prophet, a savior, a god. He was a human, a zombie, something else. He was everything, and nothing. He was Brodar.
He was Brodar.
The group listened to him, and they were shocked and amazed. They were angry and afraid. They were curious and intrigued. They were disgusted and impressed. They were doubtful and convinced. They were divided and united. They were themselves, and something else. They were Brodar.
They were Brodar.
They made their decision, and they acted on it. They accepted him, or they rejected him. They joined him, or they opposed him. They followed him, or they fought him. They loved him, or they hated him. They became him, or they killed him. They were Brodar, or they were not.
They were Brodar.
They were Brodar.
They were Brodar.
