This is not a secret society.

In fact, it is not a society at all—secret or otherwise.

There are no underground halls in Lisbon, no whisper-rites beneath the old libraries of Prague, no bone-indexed manuscripts passed from palm to sweaty palm in moon-drenched silence.

There are absolutely NO:
—relics too dangerous to name aloud.
—doors you must never open.
—symbols you might have already seen but failed to understand.
—rumors of those who disappeared upon seeking entry.

And there are surely no members—those with access to wonders and relics and riches mere mortals can only dream about. Why would one suppose that there are? Hogwash.

To be entirely clear: there is NO secret society called the Keepers of the Soul, with:
(i) centuries of whispered history,
(ii) leaders ranking among the most powerful in the world, and
(iii) adherents sworn to eternal secrecy.

If there were, and if you were qualified for entry—you would already know of it.

But there isn’t.
And you don’t.
As we have well established.

It is best to forget this curiosity. Scroll away.
Banish the name from your memory.
Go. Now.
For the love of God. Go.
Sleep well.