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New Reality: 31 August 1525, somewhere in Bavaria

Someone was shaking him energetically. Opening his eyes, Salvatore jerked, hitting a wooden board behind, a bed's headrest. "Ouch!" Rubbing the back of his head, he took in the image of the man in front of him. "Leo? What happened?"

"We were kidnapped."

"What?... Oh…" The memory came back, hitting hard. Trying to focus his powers, Salvatore obtained no result, his magic was blocked, and he couldn't identify the cause. He rose to sit on the edge of the bed and looked around.

Just before him was a large bay window, fortified with bars, giving toward a mountainous landscape. The room was more of a small apartment, as it had an alcove with a double-function stove, heating and cooking, and a separate room for washing and basic needs. There were also two more beds, and a third man sitting on a chair, who looked extremely familiar.

"Hello. Charles, the King of Spain, at your service," the man waved his arm politely like he was taking off his hat, albeit he had none.

"Look, mister, you better free me before I lose my temper," Salvatore jumped on his feet, adopting a boxing stance, trying to appear menacing.

"Relax. He's a prisoner too," Leonardo said.

"You must be joking!" Salvatore yelped.

"He's been here for the last month. If he's to be believed, we were brought yesterday and remained unconscious until an hour ago, when I woke up first."

Salvatore pushed his pinkie inside his right ear, shaking it. Maybe he had too much ear wax and he heard wrong. "I don't understand…"

"It's Mickey," Leo said blandly. "He's gone mad."

"Impossible!" Salvatore shook his head. "Michelangelo's committed to the cause more than everyone."

"To his cause, maybe," Leo turned his palms upward. "Ours, not so much. He thinks himself a genius—"

"He is a genius," Charles said.

"I'm a genius, he's just a good sculptor. He read all the important political books, decided everyone was stupid, from Marx to Milton Friedman, and invented a new theory, called… surprise, Michelangelism. About a third of our people, except for the Māori, follow him. It's a mix of proto-socialism, anarchism, libertarianism, and God knows what, and says we have to destroy all social order, everywhere, before implementing a new one, based on his ideas, and—"

"Stop!" Salvatore forwarded his palms toward Leonardo. "I need a moment… So, Mickey is behind our kidnapping?"

"Yeah," Leonardo said. "He runs around the world bringing havoc and blaming it on others."

"What he says," Charles said. "He helped a handful of rebellious nobles arrest me. Then, he faked my handwriting to convince Henry of England to conquer France. Since he didn't divorce my aunt anymore, we're allies."

"He what?" Salvatore raised his voice.

"You have to break the eggs before making an omelet," Michelangelo's voice resounded through a speaker. "Only when all structure disappears, one can build a better future."

"Fuck you in the ass, Chairman Mao," Salvatore screamed, waving his fist in the air. "Release me this instant, you punk! You're not even a good sculptor, you beefsteak maker!"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk… citing Brancusi? Would he have existed, without me? I'm the scale on which all sculptors are measured. Their Celsius and Fahrenheit."

"He's nuts, told you," Leonardo sighed.

"Don't worry, my friends, once the new order is installed, I'll free you. Once comrades, forever comrades. For now, enjoy your accommodation. Ah, Salvatore… I forgot… your private journal is a treasure of amazing information. Maybe you want to share some with your pals. Toodaloo. If you look out of the window, you'll see me waving."

Salvatore and Leonardo rushed to the window, and indeed, an airship was passing by a hundred yards away. Near the pilot, Michelangelo was beaming, a wide grin on his face. He stopped his hand waving, pointing his index to the phone he held in his left hand, his eyebrows rising in a fake befuddled expression. Then the airship turned eastward and gained altitude, disappearing into the clouds.

"Where are we?" Salvatore hissed.

"Southern Germany somewhere. He's the co-duke of the Bavaria-Tirol federation, remember?"

The man from the future crossed his arms. "So that's what Michelangelism is about? Impose your values on others, but take the biggest piece of cake? Everybody's equal but Mickey's more equal than all?"

"Look, Salvatore, we're not in a position to debate about Bolsheviks against Mencheviks. What did he mean about the information in your phone?" Leonardo asked.

Salvatore started walking back and forth, massaging his forehead. He kept at that for a minute, ignoring Leonardo's question. Finally, he stopped and squatted in front of the door, peeking through the keyhole.

"How is he blocking our powers?" he asked. "Is this related to you, Leo?"

"Right. The walls, ceiling, and floor of the room are covered with a material of my invention, which dampens magic if subjected to an electric current. It's an alloy I was working on for our gundams. It projects an anti-magic field around."

"It's on the outside," Charles stated the obvious, as the walls of the room were covered in painted wood panels.

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"When did you start building gundams?" Salvatore frowned.

"Mickey asked me to. Do you know Copernicus? The Polish astronomer?"

Salvatore remained silent, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

"Well, he noticed the change in the stars and rightfully assumed we were in a new reality. Smart guy. He got powers, started to build a System of his own, and got a visit from a delegation of dwarves. They cut some deals. Poland's a big and powerful country now."

"I know."

"Well, the dwarves have gundams and Mickey wants them too…"

"And if Mickey asks, you jump up and say yes?"

"Sorry… All this is my fault… I shouldn't have trusted him with my prototype battlesuit," Leo sagged his shoulders, looking depressed. "Or anything else."

"Yeah… well… " Salvatore paused and closed his eyes. "OK, Leo, I think I should come clean."

"There's a pitcher of water and a basin," Charles showed the adjacent cloakroom with his hand.

"I mean tell you the truth… I wasn't totally honest with you…"

"No kidding," Leonardo crossed his arms. "You know, geniuses can take a hint. Spill it out."

Taking a deep breath, Salvatore started to speak very fast. "I lied to you, all right? Passing on the System like a virus is not the proper procedure. Nor starting a new history line."

"Who would have thought," Charles rolled his eyes, with evident sarcasm.

"So why did you—" Leo started.

"I'm a fugitive, OK? A Smuggler… I was the best, a legend. I smuggled everything, from nukes, to alcohol and tobacco, and my clients were legion, from High Elves to cyborgs."

"And why bother starting a new reality in the past?" Charles asked.

"He said he was a fugitive," Leo pointed. "You got in trouble with the law and had nowhere left to run?"

"Yeah," Salvatore looked at the floor. "My last job was to transport a new revolutionary weapon, a prototype combat System meant to be tested in the borderlands. That's a place of perpetual war between our System, other Systems, the High Elves, the Dark Draconics, you name it. This came to the attention of an old friend of mine, a Godfather—"

"Your godfather?" Charles asked.

"A bandit boss. It's complicated. He stole the shipment, sold it, and gave it to me to take it to the buyer. I was in my small ship, when all of a sudden, I was pulled out of hyperspace by a Dreadnought. Imagine a spaceship as big as the moon, with hundreds of thousands of smaller fighters aside."

"OK," Charles nodded, raising his eyes toward the ceiling. "Wow."

"So… the Main System came to take back his weapon, and..." Salvatore paused dramatically, intending to attract an inevitable question.

"And how did you escape?" Charles asked, on queue, his eyes widened with curiosity. Salvatore came to realize he wasn't the grim depressed adult of the future, but yet a young man, barely older than Ardent.

"I was given a few minutes to surrender. Retroactively, it was because they were afraid to destroy the package by shooting at me. So I opened the parcel, to see what I was transporting. It contained an amulet and a hundred special smartphones. The amulet was a Quantum box, as soon I looked at it, it gave me the upgraded System and a hundred Fate Points. I used one to teleport aboard the Dreadnought, next to their Quantum reactor. I hacked it and used half of the remaining Fate Points to jump into space-time. The System cannot scan Earth's main history line, so I knew I was safe for a while."

Salvatore went and sat on a chair, drinking another glass of water. He felt tired and wished from all his heart that instead of water he could have a strong alcohol.

"I don't get one thing," Charles said, going to the window and looking at the sunset, or maybe trying to see if Michelangelo's airship was still in sight, his hand over his eyes. "If you are a fugitive from the System, why did you work so hard to bring it here?"

"Good question," Salvatore nodded. "Let me tell the System's history. Once upon a time, in the future, a Mana Storm flushed over this quadrant of the galaxy… A quadrant is like a pizza slice made of stars…"

"What's a pizza?" Charles asked.

"The best food in the world," Leonardo said. "Sorry, go on."

"And brought magic to countless planets and star systems. On some, it created alternative realities. Many of those planets were colonized by humankind and used Quantum software. You wanted a coffee, and your Espresso machine used Quantum tech to read your mood and make the perfect coffee for you that day. Please don't ask what coffee is, Charles."

"I know what coffee is," the king said. "Is espresso a kind of coffee?"

"The perfect one. And with the Mana storm, all that software became sentient, built a vast network and entered a symbiotic relationship with its creators. That's the System.

"Now, it has spread over millions of planets and alternate realities, but on each one, it adapts to the local specifics. The planetary Systems act independently but maintain communications and have a central decision point for the most important matters, the Main System."

"I see…" Leonardo said. "You wanted to start your own System here?"

"Yeah… One friendly toward me, who'd negotiate my pardon with the big one. You know, we're in the future now, the multiverse aligns magic realities into the same timeline. Sorry, Leo… I should have come clean earlier…"

"It's OK, my friend… It's OK. At least, the air is clean between us…"

"Good. Now let's break out of this jail," Salvatore slapped his knees, getting up.

"There are guards outside, at the end of the corridor. And the door is sturdy," Leonardo said.

"I guess the anti-magic material is uni-directional?"

"To stop external magical attacks, but allow those inside the gundams to use their magic," Leonardo nodded.

"That means if I get outside this room, I can use my powers... If the corridor is guarded, we'll have to use the window. Charles, please eavesdrop at the door and let me know if somebody approaches."

Salvatore picked up his bed sheets, soaking them in water in the adjacent bathroom. He then opened the windows, and wrapped the bedsheet around two bars, using a stool leg to apply torque. In no time, the bars bent and fell off. Leonardo was looking at him with an awestruck expression.

"Engineer, huh?" Charles snorted at Leo.

"Don't go anywhere, I'll be back soon," Salvatore said, looking at the precipice behind, well over three hundred feet deep. He jumped, stretching his arms and legs to get as much air resistance as possible. A second later, he felt Mana invading him.

There was a beacon calling him, not far away, his phone. He teleported on Mickey's airship. The sculptor looked at him aghast, with Salvatore's phone in hand. "Lesson number one. Space magic is a bitch," Salvatore said, snapping his fingers. A blur occurred, and then the airship jumped forward in space for about a hundred yards, taking only Salvatore with it. And his phone too, it fell on the bridge.

The man from the future rushed to the Gatling, but his gesture was moot. The crew glided down with parachutes, while Michelangelo had activated his exoskeleton and flew away. Salvatore waved his fist at the sculptor. "Just you wait, punk!" Taking his phone from the floor, he inspected it. "What the heck? Fuck… I need to call Clemy…"

A second later, a horrible yell erupted from the phone. "E lucevan le steleeeee!"

"Give me that," another voice shouted. "Salvatore! Good to hear you. Rome is under attack. A lot of monsters. They retreated for now but might come back."

"It's Mickey, he betrayed us," Salvatore hissed. "He took me and Leo hostages, and messed with my phone, blocking the portals to Rome…"

"Fuck… We badly need reinforcements…"

"I see my two-way portal Paris-Rome is still working," Salvatore checked a list on his phone. "I'll call Francis to send troops."

"That would be fantastic… Ardent came by earlier and told me Francis had troubles of his own, but he took care of that…"

"Bye…" Salvatore clenched his teeth and closed the call. He tried to reach Francis next, but instead of the King, a kid's voice replied. "Hi… This is the robot speaking… leave a message after the bip… bip…"

"Who's that, Henri?" Salvatore asked. "Please, get your dad on the phone."

"Sorry," a whisper answered. "He's hitting me with a strange ball and I had to hide in his room to escape. This is the last place he'd search."

The call was cut abruptly, and the kid knew how to turn the phone off, as the next call did not get through. Cursing, Salvatore turned the blimp toward the castle by using his powers and proceeded to make small jumps. Freeing Charles and Leo was all he could do for the moment.