The Other Marko

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My name is Marko, and I am immortal. I have lived for more than a hundred years, and I have seen the world change in ways that you can't imagine. I have witnessed wars and revolutions, inventions and discoveries, tragedies and miracles. I have loved and lost, and I have learned and forgotten. I have been rich and poor, famous and obscure, powerful and weak. I have been many things, but I have always been myself.

I was born in Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia, in the year 1919. It was a turbulent time, as the country was recovering from the First World War and the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. It was also a hopeful time, as the people were striving for independence and democracy. It was a time of change, and I was a part of it.

I grew up in a modest family, with a father who was a carpenter and a mother who was a seamstress. I had a brother who was older than me, and a sister who was younger. We lived in a small apartment near the river, and we were happy. We had enough to eat, and we had each other.

I was a curious and adventurous boy, who loved to explore the city and its surroundings. I was fascinated by the history and the culture of my homeland, and I wanted to learn more about it. I was also interested in the new and the modern, and I wanted to see what the world had to offer. I was a dreamer, and I had big plans for my future.

I wanted to be a writer, and I had a talent for it. I wrote stories and poems, and I shared them with my friends and family. They encouraged me and praised me, and I felt proud and happy. I wanted to write something that would make a difference, something that would inspire and enlighten people. I wanted to write something that would last.

I was also a lover, and I had a passion for it. I fell in love with a girl who was beautiful and smart, and I wooed her with my words and my charm. She loved me back, and we were happy. We wanted to get married and have children, and we had big plans for our future.

But then, everything changed.

It was the year 1941, and the Second World War had begun. Ljubljana was occupied by the Nazis, and the people were oppressed and persecuted. It was a time of fear and despair, and I was a part of it.

I joined the resistance, and I fought against the invaders. I used my skills and my courage, and I wrote and distributed pamphlets and flyers that denounced the Nazis and their crimes. I also sabotaged and attacked their facilities and their soldiers, and I helped and rescued their victims. I was a fighter, and I had a cause.

I was also a target, and I had a price on my head. The Nazis hated me and hunted me, and they wanted to capture and kill me. They raided my home and my workplace, and they tortured and killed my friends and family. They took everything from me, and I was alone.

But then, I met him.

He was a man who called himself Brodar, and he claimed to be a genius and a visionary. He said he had created a virus that could turn people into zombies, and he said he had spread it across the world. He said he had founded a cult that worshipped the zombies, and he said he had led it to glory. He said he had orchestrated the apocalypse, and he said he had controlled it. He said he had hidden the truth, and he said he had exposed it. He said he had destroyed the old world, and he said he had built the new one.

He said he was a prophet, a savior, a god.

He said he was immortal, and he said he could make me immortal too.

He said he knew me, and he said he loved me.

He said he was my father.

I didn't believe him, and I hated him. I thought he was a madman, a villain, a monster. I thought he was a liar, a traitor, a murderer. I thought he was the enemy, and I wanted to kill him.

But then, he showed me.

He showed me his power and his glory, and he showed me his plan and his vision. He showed me his followers and his enemies, and he showed me his friends and his foes. He showed me his secrets and his mysteries, and he showed me his stories and his truths. He showed me his past and his future, and he showed me his life and his death.

He showed me myself.

He showed me that he was my father, and he showed me that I was his son.

He showed me that he was immortal, and he showed me that I was immortal too.

He showed me that he was Brodar, and he showed me that I was Brodar.

He showed me that we were Brodar.

He showed me that we were Brodar.

He showed me that we were Brodar.

And then, he gave me a choice.

He asked me to join him, or to oppose him. He asked me to follow him, or to fight him. He asked me to love him, or to hate him. He asked me to become him, or to kill him. He asked me to be Brodar, or to be not.

He asked me to choose.

And I chose.

I chose to be not.

I chose to kill him.

I chose to hate him.

I chose to fight him.

I chose to oppose him.

I chose to join him.

I chose to be Brodar.

I chose to be Brodar.

I chose to be Brodar.

And I regret it.

I regret it every day, every hour, every minute, every second.

I regret it every time I see a zombie, every time I see a human, every time I see myself.

I regret it every time I remember him, every time I forget him, every time I think of him.

I regret it every time I live, every time I die, every time I am.

I regret it.

I regret it.

I regret it.

But I can't change it.

I can't change it, because I am immortal.

I can't change it, because I am Brodar.

I can't change it, because I am Brodar.

I am Brodar.

I am Brodar.

I am Brodar.

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