RKMBs Forums .::Important::. Writer's Block Edulcore Cicciotto: Soul search

Below me, the Atlantic Ocean.

I am gliding over the waves, dancing among the albatrosses heading toward the Azores, finally bird between birds, like my body, only now I know it, has ached for so long.

On my back, the heavy burden of the Soul-eating-sword is gone... but the sense of emptiness that clouds my mind, I know, is not only due for the death of my son... but also for the loss of Ladnikia.

I still feel the phallic, warm hilt in my grip... I still feel the weight of the bronze blade over my arm... And as I try to see the forever lost smile of Eddie, all I can come up is the glowing shine of the sword, dancing like mad in my hand. Throwing herself at the heart of my enemies.

I dive toward the surface, only to soars toward the sky just a second before to hit the wave.

I will never be bale to kill myself.

And why? Like Quantos said, what's the good in that?

The suffering, the pain... I have lived with that for all my life. Is that my destiny?

Killing myself would just make it eternal, I know.

I have been a good Christian... well, good maybe not... for most of my life... when I was young, and God blessed me with fortune and success... and when I grow up, He send me an help to come out of drugs... Father Enrico... And now, to save my life, came two angels and Death itself... my life saved by Death... the irony.

The though lift up my mood. I beat furiously my arms, gaining quote. I am tired, but the raising sun in front of me give me will to continue.


....................................................................................................................

It took the whole day to reach the Azores. I spent the night perched on a rock of a volcano, on the biggest island... I don't remember the name, from my geography curse at university...

This morning, I was awaken by a party of little tits... chickadees they call them in America... mobbing at me. I had my feathers sprouted out to cover my body, and they exchanged me for a big bird... a Great Howl, or something alike.

It was funny to see those little birds all fluffed out crying at me, even landing on my head...

...however, I spread out my arms and dove down the rocks, gliding away, toward east, Gibraltar, the Mediterranean.

........................................................................................................................

It's been three days of continued flight, and now I am seeing the coast of Italy. It's night, and the lights of the cities on the sea are driving me toward destination.

Bologna.

My city, my birthplace.

My house.

The house my parents left me, when they die.

Just, what I knew is not what I know now.

Up until one year ago, my parents were two perfectly normal people that lost their lives in a car accident. Then, I found out the truth - but it is really the truth?-

My parents were the Romeo and Juliet of two secret societies... the Hoods, followers of the alien nearly-immortal beings called Annunaki and depositories of an incredibly advanced technology... and their adversaries, the all human Capes, versed in magic...

my father was one of the Annunaki, my mother a Capes witch...

...and things that should assure me of the trueness of this version I have found... I met again my father, briefly, just to loose him again... and then I met a devilish creature that claimed to have been the house demon of my mother...

I hope to find new clues in my home.

...........................................................................................................................

The lights of Bologna are down there, much below. The towers of the directional center, in the outskirts of the city, just modern parodies of the surviving towers in the medieval center of the town.

How strange is to fly over the streets were I grew up. So... un-right.

Not wrong, but...

Well, my home is down there. It's three in the night, nobody is on the street. I land over the roof, the tiles squeak under my weight.

I have to break one roof-window to get in. I try to switch the light on, but it's two years I don't pay the bill... I open a window and the shutters, to let the yellow light from the street to illuminate the room.

My bedroom.

There is chaos everywhere. The work of Turner, that night. And of the police, after my disappearition would have been denounced by my helps at the restaurant.

I looks around. It's not what it's left of my life... of my life of those days that interests me... it's relics from my parents... something I never rwally looked for before. Things I put in boxes, when I did not throw away altogether.

Things I never cared for in my previous life... trying to forget the hate I had for my parents... for having died when I was young, leaving me alone.

I open drawers and boxes for all the night, and then in the morning. First in the two bedrooms, then in the living and finally in the restaurant.

With no avail.

The only things left of my parents is a picture of their wedding, hanging from the wall in the other bedroom, the one that was their.

I take it in my hand, looking at the eyes of my mother. Trying to remember them, how she was looking at me when I was a kid.

And suddenly, the face in the picture smiles at me. My hands leave the picture, that falls to the ground, breaking the glass.

I take it again. The picture of my mother, in black and white, is waving at me.

Oh God.

I sit down.

"How are you, son?" asks the picture.

"Dreaming" I say.

The picture laughs. I refuse to say that she's my mother.

"Explain" I ask, barely able to talk.

"I put an enchantment over this picture, so that one day you would have need to talk with me, and I wouldn't have been available, my memories up to that moment could help you."

"You mean... this is the diary I was looking for?"

"More or less. It's up to date to the last time I looked at this picture."

That is the day she died, just after leaving home with dad. So one thing I can't ask is how she died.

"I want to know many things... what's Baaahgrupta, or something similar?"

"My pet demon! You know him? It was banned many years ago to the Rotten Lands by Aurochs, after he discovered he was helping me in my fight with Hoods and Capes".

"Aren't you interested in how I met him, mom?"

"No, Edulcore. I am a registration, I don't care about your present. I am all about the past."

"Ah, Ok. What do you know about the Eternal Champion?"

"It's your destiny. It was foreshadow for you before your birth, by many signs. I was the Capes working on locating you... and your dad the Hoods with the same mission... we met, and we fell in love. And when you were born, only then we knew it... that YOU were the Eternal Champion incarnation of this time."

"Ladnikia?"

"Ladnikia is the sword of the Adversary. At last, that's how we call it. We Capes. Azazel.
For the Hoods it is different. It's the Sacred Mountain, En-Lil. And the one we call Saros, for them is En-Ki, the Lord of the Earth.
I said it's different. No, it WAS different. Long ago, they have begun to call themselves with the names we gave them. It was when they accepted humans among the Hoods ranks... to keep their true names secret to the ears of humankind."

"Aren't they names of Sumerian gods?"

"True. Just they weren't gods, just aliens. Well, in fact, they became gods, when the faith of their followers empowered them with godhood. But nobody believes anymore in the Sumerian pantheon, so from three thousands years they have lost their celestial status.
But that doesn't mean they are less dangerous."

Incredible. I have been the leader of the Hoods for many months, and I never discovered it. Saros... En-Ki... was playing me fool, for all that time.

"What about my father, mom. He was an alien?"

"He wasn't, son. He was one of the human Hoods, one of the higher rank. But human nevertheless. Although that was not known among the Hoods. It's a complex story... he replaced one of the Annunaki 12.000 years ago, when...".

CRASH!

I am thrown to the wall by an explosion. The picture of my parents still in my hand, I raise my head from behind the bed, to see a large hole in the wall, where before was the window. And a large, bulking figure nearly filling the hole, black toward the day light.

What is? Who is?

The... thing... set foot on the floor, and walk toward me. "Edulcore Cicciotto, I declare you under arrest for crimes toward humankind".

Under arrest... so this is police. Things have changed even here if they have forces so...beefed up. Someone must have seen the open window... I should have kept it close.

What I can do? I can't reveal the wings, it's not publicly known I am the Raptor... well, the EPS knows, the CIA too... but I am sure thy keep their information for themselves... and, anyway, wings wouldn't be very useful in a small room.

From outside, there is the noise of sirens, this one is just the advance-guard. And he is pointing a big gun to me. He step closer. I can see him now, a tall man in a dark blue suit... military grades on a shoulder... a helmet with black visor... a big shield on the left arm...

He has me framed. I can't absolutely do nothing. I can't run away, I can't fly away. Two years ago I could have phased trough the floor... now I am at his mercy.

Fuck.

And then, he does a very stupid thing. His right hands goes to the right side of the visor, press a button and the visor lift up, revealing his face.

What my eyes and brain do, is recognize the face, while the lips of the man formulate the phrase: "Do you remember me, Cicciotto?". I do. He is Arturo Ghiorzo, that bastard fascist from my same class at high school. The stupidest, most cruel man I have ever met.

What my hand does, on his own, is to catch a pen from the bedside table, and thrown it at him.

Right in the left eye.

The man drops his gun, his hands going at the eye, blood ripping through his fingers, screaming mad.

I heard voices from the restaurant, they are coming in.

I take the picture and my backpack, put it on, and jump outside the hole in the wall.

I dive down over the crowd of policemen, that did not expected such move. They expected a dead body over the shoulder of Ghiorzo, not a human eagle gliding over them.

I spread my arms, and began to beat furiously, gaining quote. Then, I land over the tallest tree at the Margherita Gardens, and perched there, with parties of little birds screaming mad at me, I wait for the night, while helicopters hovers above the city, looking for me.

When the night falls, I take flight. Big clouds cover quickly the star filled sky, while I head north, unable to think what to do, now.

..............................................................................................................................

The temperature is dropping fast. There is a disturbance coming from north, the clouds have engulfed me, and now I have lost any direction.

The wind is fierce, I can't try to land in all this darkness, I could kill myself. I must maintain quote, but the force pushing me down is strong... very strong...

Thunders in the distance... and lighting... the rain pours down like a torrent... the winds is every second that passes stronger... harder to fight...

...I ... am... falling...

...down...

"Ehy, how are you? Are you fine?"

I open my eyes. I am on the ground, over the soft cushion of dead leaves over the ground of a dense wood. The one that is bending over me, asking for my conditions, in Italian, is a short man, 1,70 metres, with a salt-and-pepper beard, spectacles, a blue cap covering a not complete baldness, as I discover when he takes the cap away to wipe the sweat on his forehead.

The eyes, behind the spectacles, are green and piercing. He has a binocular hanging from his neck, a green fleece and blue jeans.

He lend me an hand, and help me to get on feet. "No apparent damage" he says, like talking to himself. "Are you able to walk? My home is a few kilometers away, I bet you are hungry".

The man doesn't ask me anything. My name, what I was doing on the wood ground. Why I am half naked... It seems like he was expecting me...

We walks across the woods. The sky has turned blue, the air is clear and cold. We are descending the slope of a rounded mountain, covered in dense beech coppices on top, and a more open chestnut grove on the flanks. There are little stone huts here and there. "They were used to dry the chestnuts" explains the man. It's the first thing he says, since we met more than an hour ago.

I look at him perplexed. He seems to notice that, and blushes. "It's a mental habit, sorry. I am an environmental interpreter."

I lend my hand. "Edulcore Cicciotto" I say. He takes the hand and shakes it briefly. "Guido Sardella" he says.

Guido...

...Sardella!

"It's... it's impossible!" I say.

"Why?"

Can I say that it's the name I use as an alias in mission? He would began asking questions... "Eh, well... I had a friend with the same name... " I explain, smiling.

"Oh, what a coincidence. It's not a common name... the surname is commoner in the south, while the name is typical of Tuscany... I bet there are a few called like me. And you know one. Fun." Guido smiles again, and like before, he keeps his mouth closed while the corners of his lips fold up. Like in the drawing of a kid.

We are walking on a narrow path that crosses every once in awhile a dirty track. I don't know if he keep us on the path to hike faster or to avoid contact with the occasional jeeps that drive trough the track. Surely when we heard a car, he slows down.

Suddenly, he stops. "Put on a shirt, please" he asks. I take one from my backpack, and put it on.

"Good", he says, and a few steps forward, we are on an asphalted road, with a few houses in sight. A little dog run at us, stopping just a few inches, barking like mad. An old woman sweeps just outside the door of his home.

We get past the houses, but after a few turns of the road there are more, some white, some grey, one pale yellow. Some are older, all stones, with roofs made with slabs, while the newer have red plain roofing-tiles. The houses are grouped, and each group is surrounded by small meadows partially enclosed by hedgerows, with little patches of woods along the streams, and dark plots of pines and spruces.

Much down the slope, at the bottom of the valley, the houses are closer, some bigger, and the bell tower of a church rises above the roofs.

"Albareto. My town" explains Guido.

We walks another two or three hundreds meters, "saluted" again by the barks of various small dogs and a little party of domestic geese, then we step trough two short concrete columns missing the relative gate, into a little court/garden, with a two story white house at the other side.

There is a little red swing under two Douglas firs, and, in front of the door, a very small pink bicycle and a big, black and white cat busy with his toilette. There is also a bird feeder shaped like a small house on a meter tall pole

Guido points to the cat. "Giovacchino".

We sat on the bench outside the door, to take away our boots.

And then, we get inside.

The room is small, in front of the entrance stands a big, tall blue refrigerator. On one side, to my left, the kitchen, all pale yellow. On the opposite side a big pale yellow divan, and to the wall a long, white furniture and a black TV.

Guido points me the divan, and I sit down. I am mortally tired for the travel across the Ocean, and then the escape from Bologna. "Where's the kid?" I ask. He looks at me surprised, and then smiles "The bike, right?"

"And the swing. And all these puppets" I add, taking a plush wildboar and a deer in my hands.

"My girl. She's away, with my wife... "

The man goes toward a drawer, and opens it, taking some photos. "She's two years old" says, handling me the pictures. The child is beautiful, medium long sleek blond hairs, and green blue eyes like his father. She smiles in all the pictures.

"My son would have the same age..." I whisper.

The man, which is cutting an onion over a wood chopping board, turns to me: "I am sorry for your son".

A legitimate phrase... yet I have still the impression that the man knows me, and my life.

Guido fills a pot with water, and put it on the fire. On another pot, he puts some oil, the chopped onion, chopped tomatoes, caspers and olives.

I stand up. When the water boils, from a box of spaghetti, he takes out an handful, weights it, and put them in the water, shaking them with a wooden spoon.

"Have you some basil?" I ask.

"Sure. It's in the vegetable garden. Wait a minute" he says, going out. He returns in less that a minute, with the green, aromatic leaves.

The smell of the sauce is good. "Do you like it?" asks Guido.

Oh, you wouldn't imagine how do I like it, man. "Yes, it's good, Guido". I have been a cook for nearly five years, the smell of sauces, of meats, of vegetables was my life. Yet that's so distant, now. For the last two years, my life has been full of marvels, of discoveries, of wondrous things. But the little pleasures of life... the satisfaction of a good meal, the warm aroma of a cup of coffee... the smell of rain over grass... the smile of a woman when you awake in the morning... I have completely forgotten them. It's like I have never eaten in the last two years.

The man give me dishes, glasses, forks and knives. I put them on the table. Guido takes a bottle of wine, Bonarda of the Piacenza hills, and opens it with a corkscrew. I fill my own glass.

The warm, near-sweet flavor awakes my tongue. I empty the glass, and then another. I finally relax.

The pasta is good, and rewarding after three days without a bite of any kind of food. Outside the window a dozen of colorful tits, chickadees for you Americans, dances in and out the birdfeeder.

"Coffe?" asks Guido.

"Sure" I respond, and after two minutes, he brings me a little mug filled with the dense, dark brown liquid. I had fallen asleep on my chair.

"No coffee for you?" I ask, sipping mine.

"No. I drink coffee only when I am late with an assignment, and I have to work in the night. A cup, and I can stay awake straight to the next morning."

"I don't get it. You said you are a interpreter... a guide, right?" I ask.

"Yes, and no. I work in the interpretive... market, but I am not a guide. Well, I have been for many years, but now I am a graphic designer and illustrator... in the field of environmental interpretation. I work for museums and Parks... you know, doing signs and leaflets and books... that sort of things."

"Oh, now I get it... so, the binocular you had before... you are a birdwatcher?" I ask.

"Yes, I am. I study the birds of this area since the late seventies."

"Seventies? How old are you?"

"Thirty-six..."

Just like me, another coincidence.

The man continues "... I began observing birds when I was twelve".

What was the name of the birds... Oh, yes, I remember the words of Quantos.

So, I ask: "And, have you Short toed eagles, here?"

The eyes of Guido illuminate, when he heard the name of the raptor. "Yes, we have. If you want to see one, tomorrow we can try to locate it".

.........................................................................................................................................

I open my eyes. I am on the divan, I have fallen asleep after the lunch. There is a short woman with black curly hairs, looking at me, smiling. "Good afternoon" she says.

I stand up, looking out of scale, I am sure, in this room with the ceiling so low. Tailored, it seems, on the legitimate occupants, but not on me with my 195 cm. I lend my hand. "Good afternoon... my name's Edulcore Cicciotto..." I whispers, looking around to see where Guido has gone.

"Rita..." says the woman shaking my hand. "Guido's gone because our kid was calling". As she says that, Guido returns from the internal door, carrying a little girl. The girl looks puzzled at me. I smile, and she produces the biggest, warmest smile I have ever seen.

And my heart hurts.

I HAD seen a smile like that. At TriVex, in Thunder, two years ago. Eddie, just a moment before that bastard Curie kidnapped him.

"What's your name?" I ask her.

"LLLLiaaa!" she says, suddenly hiding her face over Guido' shoulder.

"Lia, don't be so shy!" I say, and she turns toward me.

The kid took my beard, and seems fascinated by my pony-tail. Then she say "Let's go out" in a funny way, and her mom take her in the courtyard outside. Through the windows, I look at her. "You are a lucky man, Guido" I say.

"I know" he responds.

"You have a beautiful child, a caring woman, a nice home... and live in a beautiful place. I envy you".

Guido sits down. "Yes, I agree. But I have not an exciting life like you".

I frown. What do he knows? "What do you know about me?"

Guido smiles. "You are Edulcore Cicciotto. The runner. And the one who has been recognized as the metahuman behind the Chicago incidents two years ago. With the angel and the flying cows..."

"So, you have recognized me. But, let me tell you, my life has been more of a nightmare than an exciting ride."

Guido smiles again. "I assure you that things will change. You will find peace, friend."

"How can you say that? Are you a seer?" I ask.

"Ehe, something like that" responds the man.

I look outside the window again. The sun is setting behind the distant hills. The kid is playing with a tall, old man, with just one arm. "Who is he, Guido?" I ask.

"He's Rita's dad" Guido's responds. The man is helping Lia to get over the pink little bicycle, and is smiling and singing some kid's song.

"How did he lost the arm?"

Guido sits down on the divan. "It's a sad story... He was a soldier in the Italian army when the armistice was declared between Italy and the Allies in 1943. Like many others, he had not a chance to run away, so the Nazi took him in a prison camp in Germany, where he had to work 16 hours a day... many like him died of starvation... he was freed by the Americans two years later, and came back. He had twenty years then. So, he survived both the war and the imprisonment... but then, some times later, he was working in the woods with his brothers, near home, felling some trees... and one of his brothers slumped over a buried, unexploded bomb. The brother died in the following explosion, while Rita's dad lost an arm and an eye."

"It's terrible!"

"Yes. And there is more. He managed to marry a girl he loved so much, and then she died just a short time after the wedding".

"I can't believe it."

"Later he remarried, with Rita's mom, but she lost many children before they had Rita, the only one to survive".

"It's enough to drive a man crazy" I whisper.

"Yes. But trough this he has never lost his faith, both in God and in himself. With just an arm and an eye has worked as a farmer and as a woodcutter for decades, and also is a good hunter of hares and wild boars, although that's not a thing I like. He has always sung in the church choir and now, at age eighty, sings in a chorus and goes to perform across the region. He never gave up, Edulcore".

"Quite an amazing man. Maybe's a meta..."

"No, Ed. It's all in the mind. And in the heart."

"You know, Guido? I feel like I arrived here just to hear this from you. It's a very strange feeling..."

Guido doesn't reply. Wave his hands, like to say to forget that, and goes out to bring the kid home, now that the first stars appear in the dark blue sky, and dozens of crows cross the sky directed to their night-time rest.

.............................................................................................................

The rest of the evening passed nicely, playing with the kid, watching cartoons on TV with her, Heidi, the same I loved when I was a child a little more grown up than her. Then, when Lia went to sleep, we talked about... things... Italy, the mountains, Bologna, my city, where Rita studied at University... and then it was very late and I went to bed in the room where Guido has his computer workstation, and Lia keeps all her toys.

Then in the night, I had one of those dreams that where so common one year ago, and that lately I had stopped to do. Maybe it was Azazel influence to kepts them away... who knows. Anyway, I awoke with the need to piss. Coming out of the bathroom, I noticed a light on in the living-room, a thing I was sure it wasn't when I passed there a few minutes before. I got in, and the living room was filled by person... men and woman that I saw before. Guido was with them.

I was looking around. "Ed, sit down, please" said Guido, "Let me present these friends. Captain Nemo, you met him not many time ago. Nadia, she is with you at Vanguard right now. The young Eurostar from TIAMAT, and next to him, Eurostar of the MBL and Edulcore Cicciotto of the Strikeforce 5. Then there is Ed Cicciotto from the Microtrends future, the archeologist. They helped you to free Eddie from the EPS... sadly, it became just a dream. And here there is White Raven... the one that helped you during the virus adventure in Siberia... the one that started the chain of events that brought you to be freed from Ladnikia. And this his the last one... the "penultimate" Eurostar, pardon the pun.They are here to greet you... "

"What? What does this mean? Why they are here... at your home, Guido?"

"You don't understand?"asks Nemo. "You don't get it? Why there are so many version of yourself? Why Guido seemed to know everything about you? Why you have ended here, of any place... the home of the one person with the name you used as an alias? What load of coincidences you can accept?"

My head hurts. "Guido... he said me he is a seer. You want to say he is a wizard? He can summon all of you?"

Nemo laughs louder.

The... Eurostar in the long black coat stands up, and spreads his arms, like to embrace all the presents. He is the perfect replica of Nicholas Cage in City of angels. He shakes his head. "No, Ed... Raptor... Guido doesn't summon us... he writes us."

"Writes?"

"Yes, writes. I write stories on the internet, featuring characters based loosely on myself. What I am, or what I would be. And you... you are one of those characters" explains Guido

That's... how can accept a thing like that? "I have seen aliens, wizards, monsters, demons, angels... I can accept anything... but this doesn't make any sense, you know?" I say.

Guido stands up. "Follow me". Her brings myself to my bed room. Start up the computer, works over the keyboard and with the mouse for a few minutes, and then an internet page opens up... and my life unfolds in front of me, written in short or long posts, among other posts with the lifes of my friends and enemies.

"What... why..." I whispers, unable to complete a phrase.

We return to the living room. "It started a few years ago. Four, to be exact. Just for fun. A spoof of some comics we were reading...."

"Who are we?" I asks.

"We writers. A bunch of people all around the world. Usa. Canada. Australia. And Chile, Britain, Sweden. Argentina, for a very short time..."

"And you know them?"

"No. And yes. They are my friends. Of some I have seen the faces, of no one I ever heard the voices. Of most, I don't know anything besides how they writes. But they are true friends. We share something special. We give life to things. To people like you. Just like many writers do. But we do this just for fun. Not for money, not for fame. Just because it's damn fun."

The little bastard. "You say fun? You writes me? You writes my life? You have stripped me of my fame, of my money, you made my a junkie, you took me away my parents, my son, you put me in prison at the EPS for one year and slave of Ladnikia for another one? I will KILL you, bastard!"

I jump at the throat of Guido.

But I clash over a wall of punches. There are three costumed Eurostars to protect Guido, while Nemo points his Ladnikia to my chest. Nadia is helding one of his big, really big gun pointed at my head. The other three seems ready to jump at me.

"No, it doesn't work like that, Ed" says the long black coat Eurostar, turning then toward Guido.

"Yes, it's different. Rarely I sit at the computer knowing what to write. Sometime what I will write depends on what has been written before. That's the spirit of a round robin story. But there is more. Much more. Most of the time, you read, and an idea forms in your mind. You began typing, and the thing begins to take shape. And to change. Your fingers dances on the keyboard like they have a proper life, and the brain doesn't control them anymore. The story unfolds before you, like you are writing it and not creating it.
I never intended keeping you away from Eddie for years. But the writer of Knell and Walker had managed to do so.
Also, I had no intention to give you Ladnikia. Ladnikia was Nemo's sword, and I gave him with the way to be not possessed by her. But then, it came the vampire story, you was so helpless... one of the newbyes started out like a very likeable funny scared guy, and in three post he became an unbeatable boring James Bond with a story on his own. While you... the leader of the Hero Revolution... were useless. So, Ladnika appeared out of nowhere, and you were using her like Nemo was never able to do in TOMB... where he used her just one time, at the end of the Neverian adventure.
And the killing of Eddie... well, that was planned in advance.... but came out all of a sudden, talking to a friend. And if I have written it, it's because I know it was important. Don't judge me, I CARE for you... just, accept my saying, life will be easier with you in the future..."

"But... why do you do that?"

"Ehe. I would say you that I am doing it to exercise my English... and to train my storytelling skill. No, I do this because it's just plain fun. When you see a story that builds up nicely... when you see twists that you didn't expected... when little, stupid detail become great plot devices... that's just great. And thinking there are guys across the whole world sharing it... it's even greater.

Nemo comes closer: "Ed, you are the luckiest of us. You are alive, your story goes on. All the other of us are not being written anymore... with the exception of Nadia and the penultimate Eurostar, but, let's see it, Nadia is destined to be just a guest star, and the other one's story... seems dead in the water." He raises his hooks in front of me. "Your friends have spared you this. Be grateful with them". He turns, goes to the door and leaves.

The young Eurostar stand up. "Ed, don't forget your passions. They are the things that makes you real. Cultivate them, or you will be just an obsessed super-hero, no more than a cliche. Cook, go birdwatching, play soccer... don't forget it."

The boy exits, and the "penultimate" Eurostar comes. "The same as the one before me". He turns, and I see that he has no depth, like a cardboard cut-out.

He leaves, too, and the fat one, the archaeologist come. "Ed, you are a son of science and magic. You were very interested into mysteries, as a kid. I was like you, and followed that passion to become an archaeologist. Maybe, if I wouldn't so greedy, I would have been into sports, and my life would have been like yours. Thanks Guido, he spared me that. Anyway, with your memories of your past lives, you can dig out many finds... I envy you that. The world needs to know, to unveil the mist that wraps history. Do that."

The fat man takes the door. The bald, older one, the Edulcore from Strikeforce 5, whatever it is, comes closer. "Ed" he says, "if you follow the suggestion of our friends, I am what you will become. No more powers, even the slightest one. Yet, you will not regret it. Remember, having been spared from the ultimate possession of Ladnikia, that doesn't mean you are safe from the lust for power. It's your big weakness, Ed. The metagene manifestation have cured you from the physical need of heroin... but that doesn't mean your mind doesn't ache for it. You have sublimated it through the euphoria the powers give you. If you want to win it... if you want to be free... really free... you must loose all of your powers. You must become a norm... how much it sound paradoxical to you, that's the path to walk."

That Edulcore goes out, instantly replaced by White Raven. "I was the first, Edulcore. The first of your incarnations. In fact, I was existing in the mind and the writings of Guido much before he even heard about the Internet. I am the original hero of his creation... and you, just, a shadow of myself. Yet, he has never written the novel about me that he has in his mind since when he was fourteen. Many first pages, and the last chapter... and many notes about the in-between. And an aborted role in a round robin story, plus a guest starring role in your life. You are much more fortunate... you are like a living being, your life unfolding day by day. Be aware of that: it's the fun that makes life worthy to be lived. Don't do anything for money, or for fame, if there is no fun in doing it. In the end, when Death will come to take you, money and fame will mean nothing... but the fun you had, nobody will be able to stole it from you."

Then it's the time of Nadia: "Well, I am here just to remember that Vanguard is in mission, there is a war fought down in Antarctica, and your old friend Naecken needs your help." She points at the little amulet hanging from my neck, "Remember what the "future Eurostar" said to you?"
I nod my head. She continues. "Well then, we are waiting for you to end the nonsense of a war at the South Pole. Your intervention will be very Deus ex machina... but it's how T5 set it, you have just to fulfill his idea. See you soon",

Nadia leaves, and the last Eurostar comes near, his hands pushed in the pockets of his long coat. "I am the last one to talk, because I was the first. The first Eurostar, the first Edulcore Cicciotto. I came after White Raven in the mind of Guido, but I was the first to inherited the name Edulcore and the nick Eurostar. I had a son like you, a kid with snakes in the head. Destined to become a villain, like his mother, even if the end of my universe prevented that.
Despite what you have experienced in your previous meeting with Captain Nemo and his team, that shared the same timeline with me, our universe did not survived the war.
Or, better it did. Just, changed... transformed... into your own.
It's what happened. Not in story, maybe... Maybe. But surely in reality.
Our writers stopped writing our universe and started writing your one. And us old characters became you, all new, revamped or maybe just the same, slightly altered. Our Danny Hearn remained Danny Hearn. I became you. Mr Mxyptlk, Mr. Mxy and Klt. Shock became Agent Turner. Very different, but same lighting powers. Your Bibbo was not very different, at last from the more recent version of ours. Tobias is the same, Kristogar Velo too. CHewy WAlrus became CHarles WAlker, Gummy worm Glow-worm, Boss Tweed more or less the same, doctor Radium doctor Curie, Vidalia Owens just loose her Hybrid Onion codename... and the Elitium Protection Squad became the Enhanced Procurement Sanction. Lil'Jo, sadly, had a more interesting personality in our old universe...
So, what I am saying, is that you are me. Guido has retold in you my previous life, and he has not finished yet. Yes, there is much more drama, much more characterization... but let's see: I was a sort of supertrain man, and you were a speedster... then I went to space and gained a superexoskeleton, and you became the herald for the Time Trust and gained the elemental body. I lost it, becoming the Ghost, you had phasing powers just before... then I died and became an angel... you "died" too, and when you where "reborn" running away from the EPS, you gained your wings... like an angel."

"And then?" I ask.

"Then I became a guardian angel for my kid, and when there was no way for me to save him, I "fell" and became human again. With no powers at all".

"The path the old one has asked me to follow" I whisper.

"Yes. But that is in the hands of fate. Of Guido, yes, but not totally. He may tend to that, but other things come into play, like he explained you."

"Uhm, yes, I get it..." I say, nodding.

"Good" he says, and turn to Guido. "It's time".

Suddenly, there is smell of ozone, and the "future Eurostar", myself from the time I had seemingly died from the meteor fall in Mandelovia, appears.

I have been in front of him before, but this time, I know that he is me, and me from the past. It's... strange.

"We have to tie another loose end from the past" explains the fallen-angel-Edulcore. He opens his shirt, and takes an amulet, hanging from his neck, identical to mine. "It's the Sundial Amulet, Edulcore" he explains. "Something that has been of my family since the time of the White Raven. An alien artifact existing outside time, that makes all the people wearing it across time sharing visions and toughs. In my universe. In yours, in the revamped yours, it works differently... it makes you feel the previous experiences of the past incarnations of the Eternal Champion. In my universe it was a matter of heritage, in your a matter of role. Don't ask me why."

I turn to Guido. He shrugs and then smile.

The "future Eurostar" takes the amulet, and disappears. He will give it to me nearly two years ago. I will disappear a few hours later and Nadia will recover it. I, then, some moths ago, returning to la Perdita, have found it among the few things of the missing Nadia, and have been wearing it since. The circle is closed.

Well, not really.

"Why it should make Naecken to evolve again?" I ask.

Guido laughs. "That should be asked to T5, T5 the poster, I mean. But, let's say the energies the amulet gained from the contact with the whole heritage of Eurostar's family will do the job. Works for you?"

"Not really, sorry"I say, smiling.

"Well, it's far fetched, but with T5 gone, Naecken will go, too, so it's not that I really think it has to be overworked."

"Naecken will go?"

"Yes. His poster has stopped to post, so there is no reason he will stay. But if the poster will return, Nae will return, too. At last I hope he returns, and not one of the girls. And don't ask me anything more, Ed."

The fallen-angel-Eurostar takes my hand. "I live through you. Take care." He then turns, and leaves.

There is just Guido in the room, now. He goes to the refrigerator, and takes something out. "Do you want some pressed-oranges juice?" he ask me.

"Ok" I responds, sitting on the divan.

.................................................................................................

I awoke late in the morning. Guido was waiting for me. "We are going to look for the eagle, remember?" he says.

I forgot it.

I dressed up quickly, and then we were outside the house, I with my backpack, he with his binocular.

There is Rita's dad, making the point to some poles, to be used for a fence, he explains me. He doesn't use an axe, but a thing I didn't see since my youth, a bill hook.

I take it in my hands. I never noticed how it resemble a raptor's claw.

"Are you going in the woods?" asks the old man. "Take it with you, you never know if the path is clear or needs to be cleared up!"

I balance the hooked, short steel blade in my hand. "Thanks, sir".

"We are going by foot?" I ask, turning to Guido.

He nods. "In this season the eagles have not a defined home range, so more we walks, more are the chances to find them."

We have walked for hours. Down the hill, to the village, and then across the little stream up to the opposite side of the valley, up another hill, first across the meadows, and then in the woods. Around two in the afternoon, we have come out of the woods and into pastures up the top of a mountain.

I have been here before. With the Shaman, when I was in Siberia. Another dream. The Shaman... it was White Raven... said that here I would found all the answers. Yes, the mountain was bare, and with a little glacier. Now there are beeches up to the crest, but the coastal line we see it's more or less the same, considering the shift in the sea level.

And then, Guido points me to a little spot in the sky. He looks at it trough the binoculars, and then confirm. "Yes, it's the eagle. The short toed eagle".

The big raptor soars in the winds, its legs hanging down. Suddenly it closes its wings and fall to the ground in an instant, and then it's back up in the air, a long serpent between its claws.

"Cool" exclaims Guido. "I have never seen it in more than thirteen years I watch those raptors. You are very lucky, Edulcore.

I smile. "Farewell, Guido" I say, shaking the hand of my friend.

I take away my shirt, spread out my feathers - and Guido doesn't seems surprised at all, so I know now that it was not a dream- and run down the hill, allowing the air to support me, and the wind pushing me high. I gain quote rotating, and then I glide toward the eagle.

And the eagle waits for me.

It was the Christmas of 2001, two years ago. I was in Thunder with the Circus, and "my" Revolutionaries. Tobias, Danny, TC, Mxy... Nowhereman... and Naecken.

Just before midnight, I went looking for a church, to take part to the mass... but the church was empty, there was just the priest, father Sean, who explained me the course of the city... the venomous fog exhaled by the Leviathan, a terrible creature engineered by Knell, Doctor Clone, chief of Tri-Vex Corporation, and jailer of my son Eddie.

Well, truthfully, Eddie is a clone of myself, created by the same Knell...

...but in any case he kept him prisoner, away from me that am his only living relative. His father, truly.

Anyway, Father Sean was a metahuman that was ashamed of himself. That night, I fully understood that once retrieved my son, my mission wouldn't have stopped... that there was a whole world to free, from hate and prejudice. Since then, my life took strange turns... that night we took down Tri-vex, freed Thunder City, but my son was kidnapped by one of Knell's aids, Curie, and brought as a present to Charles Walker, the EPS leader... just days after, I seemingly died in Mandelovia... the circus destroyed... and my friends repaired happily in la Perdita... a paradise island where it is easy to forget the suffering endured before, and still endured by the metahumans of the world. As for myself, I was not dead. I tried to take back Eddie from walker by myself, and ended being "procured" by the EPS. I tried to stay there, to be near Eddie, but soon I found a way to start a rebellion of metas in Chicago, that ended up in an holocaust thanks mostly to a being called Rothman. I was able to escape, and to join my old friends... although many of them, sooner or later, had left the team. And then, I found Ladnikia, the sword... and my life 's path bent again, this time bringing me right toward death... just to be saved by my comrades... my friends... just inches from the fall. But Eddie paid for my madness, finding death at my hand.

And so, I embarked in a quest for my soul... for my purpose in life... back to Italy, to discover that nothing I left behind that fateful night when I was kidnapped by Agent 57 of Malvan X did survived... but that many things are awaiting for me. New things.

I fled on my own to Antarctica, to use the disc my "future self" gave me just before my apparent death in Mandelovia, to help naecken, which was starting his war to humankind... and I found vanguard has done the job, stopping him. But the disc resurrected him, making him evolving one more time... from red to green, just like before he had been blue and black. A colour for each of the five beings that form him. Or her, I should say, because the green one was clearly a female, with the power of life.

She resurrected Eddie, and then, when she was ready to resurrect all the dead, I managed to have her leaving for space. But I was enough selfish to beg her to don't take Eddie's back.

So, I took the UFO that Saros "kindly" gave me, and left. Left for the one last place where I felt useful, important, happy... Thunder City. I knew the fall of the asteroid over Promethan City should have somehow harmed it. The night, I landed in the churchyard, and after having sent the UFO to hoover high in the sky, I knocked at Father Sean's door. He accepted me and my son with a warm smile and a dish of hot soup.

I have been with father Sean up to today, helping him in the rebuilding of the church, the work with the needy of the parish. I discovered the city, a strange heaven for metahumans in an America that still hates them most. I found, amusingly, that everybody still talks of the Christmas night when Santa Claus and his elves took down the Tri Vex building. And I, especially, learned to be a father of a child that hates me most, that every night, while dreaming, calls his "Uncle Charlee", that hisses to me like a serpent whenever I try to hug him.

Life went on, with its ups and downs, until a few hours ago, during the Christmas mass, at midnight. I was in the row of persons going to receive the Communion, when I felt something hard pressing on my back, and a well known voice whispering in my ear: "Gotcha".

Arturo Ghiorzo had found me. I received the Communion, with Eddie on my arms, with the bastard glue to my back. The church was so full of peoples, pressed one to the other, that I couldn't run away... and the coat prevented me to spread my feathers and try to fly away.

Ghiorzo had no hurry. He kept to stay behind me, until the mass ended and the faithful began to flow outside. "Turn on the left and go toward the end of the alley, Cicciotto" he whispered. I was in panic. There was no single way out I could think of. He had full advantage over me, any move and he could have killed me on the spot. And I knew he was about to do it anyway, once in the total darkness of the end of the alley. There was no way i could have saved me and the kid.

But I didn't die. I heard a low "thud", and turned to see Ghiorzo lying on the ground. Father Sean was standing there, totally naked, holding a baseball bat. Eddie was crying madly.

"How did you do?" I asked.

"Did you forget so easily my power?" he said, his skin taking the exact colour and texture of the wall. "I got suspicious when I saw that man, behind you, don't taking the Holy Communion after you, but staying pressed to you. So I kept an eye on him and then after the mass ended, I ran here. Just in time. He's not dead. Should I call the police?"

"I am the illegal here, not him. I bet he has all the papers. Sadly, this place it's not safe for me anymore, Father Sean. We are leaving right now. I think it would be safer fro you if you come with us."

"No, I can't leave this place. And he doesn't know what has hit him. Go now, my friend. May God help you and your son!"

I took my things, leaving back most of my money (the remnants of what Turner won at Las Vegas that fabled night), sure that Sean would have used them better than me. Me and Eddie took the UFO, leaving for la Perdita, the only place on earth where I can feel Eddie will be safe enough.

And now we are here, on the beach of Del Mar, waiting for the bus for Puerta Mibela. The UFO is in the volcano, like its predecessor was most of the time. Before going back to Vanguard, I wanted to give a look to the ruined residence, shaped like a medieval castle, on the slopes of the mountain. I wonder how much does it cost.

When we arrived in Puerta Mibela, I bought some American newspaper, to see if there was any trace of what went in Thunder last night.

Nothing about Arturo Ghiorzo, no.

But on the first page of the Thunder Gazette, there was a piece about the Slaughter of Christmast Night. About a catholic priest, Father Sean, massacred in a dark alley next to his church.

It was the first day of the new year. The island was sleeping after the celebrations on New Year Eve; the Complex, too was immersed in silence, as everyone was still sleeping. The party at the Fish Factory had just ended, and all returned to their quarters, some alone, some not, Grissom and Phil among the fortunate ones.

I was not one of the luckiest.

Eddie was sleeping with the other kids, gathered together, for that night, to allow the adults have their party.

So I had finally a night all for me, after more than a months, and I spent it arguing with Tayden over religious matters. Pity me.

When the sun get up beyond the sea, exactly at six o'clock, I left. I sprout my feathers and soared along the thermal forming over the volcano's slopes, where the recent, black bed of lava warmed up quicker than the surroundings.

I turned my head back, toward the factory, more than one time, to see if Brianna was going to follow me, but she was still dancing and smiling and be happy on the terrace, among the crowd. She is young, she had a hard life, why you wonder the happiness of a party should be less urgent, for her, than to rockets herself in the sky.

And, to say the truth, she is very different fro you. I know that her power origins his similar to your own. Metagene, yes, but also an implant of genes from animals. wonders if there was a connection between her prison and Walker. Probably not, but they shared the same tech. How so? In any case, that's obvious the genes are from different animals. If I should bet, I would say her genes is from a merlin. The small, graceful falcon of the moors of her island, quick and deadly on his prey, but similar to a dancer when it flies across the open lands covered in heater.

I am the eagle. Not the enormous golden eagle of the mountains and of the northern countries, mad enough to charge at wild boars, like I saw one time. No, I am the short toed eagle, a bad English name for what it should be called the serpent eagle. Or, in my language, the Big White. The eagle of the mediterranean countryside, of depleted pastures covered in thorny bushes, her piercing eyes always concentrated to find the quick wriggle of a venomous viper. And when she finds the prey, she doesn't need to do powerful dive like a falcon, to kill the chosen bird with the impact of his own body. No, the eagle just let herself to fall over the serpent. And then, with the sharp beak, she cut the reptile heads.

What a coincidence. It never come to my mind until now. That's what my predecessor as the Eternal champions have always done, in a repeating pattern, a never ending cycle that will perpetrate forever. The Hero and the Dragon. Marduck and Tiamat. Herakle and the Hydra. Theseus and the Orca. Saint George and Sigfrid and the Dragons. Many, many more.

Sometime I miss Ladnikia. I miss the confidence she gave me. Not just in fights, but whenever I had need of. Don't think about it, Euro.

I miss the calming effect she had over the eagle in me. The urgency to fly away.

The sea below is inviting. The beach is deserted.

I land.

I take away my cloths, and dive in the water. It's warm, and clear as crystal. Swarm of fishes surrounds me, colorful and as many as the stars in the night sky.

When I get out, there is a woman standing right when the water arrives farthest to wet the sand.

Black bicker shorts, and a back bra, an iPod attached to the belt-line, and earpiece. Bare feet. Tanned skin. Long, black curly hairs, big rounded earpiece. A gypsy with the wrong outfit.

"Hi stranger!" she say, smiling. I am standing with the water at knee level, totally naked.

The last time I was in a situation like this I was still one of the best known persons in the world. I was at a nudist beach in Croatia, but that woman was nude, too.

This face. I saw her before. But where?

I swam for a mile. No clothes to put on. Oh, what the hell.

"You know me? Or should I know you?" I ask.

"Well, having you tried to kill me, I hoped my face would have some meaning to you!" the woman says, smiling mischievously.

"Sorry, lady, but my life has been a mess for the last year. If there are things you think I should respond to justice, please contact my lawyers. I am willing to respond to anything..."

"Wait, wait. I am not seeking to charge you anything. I am on the same line of works as you, and I know what you went through. I worked for Myrrdin. I was the one at the UN building. With Aurochs."

Shadows of the past. Bullets at me. Flying men outside the building. Me diving down, my wings pushing on the poisonous air of New York.

"I remember" I hiss. I wouldn't. I would prefer not to. But it's engraved in my mind like on sandstone.

"Rose Biggles" she say, smiling and lending her hand.

"How do you do, Ms Biggles?" the scene is so absurd, I resort to a phrase from Drills One from my first class of English.

Are you tired, Robert? A little, Mr. Brown. Are you glad to be in Britain? Square colorful panels on a used book. A kid and a very English man, with pipe and mustaches.

I am naked, emerging from the sea, shaking hands with the girl that prevented me to become the puppet of Naecken at the UN, as chairman of the world. Heh heh.

The girl sits down in the sand. She moves like a feline. A cat. No, something more wild, but not ferocious. Not a tiger or a lioness. Something little, slim, but as wild as those big cats. A serval. or a ocelot.

And like a feline, she beats her eyelids very slow. She close them and then reopens them like in slow motion. I get aroused and can't do nothing to hide it.

Her eyes fly at my thing, returning suddenly at my face, but a little smile appear on her little mouth. She lies down, her arms crossed behind her head. I don't like the confidence she has in the situation.

"Obviously you want to tell me something, Ms. Biggle." I can't stop myself to feel comfortable too. Just one moment ago I wasn't.

"Rose."

"Rose, okay. I'm Ed"

"I heard you have lost Ladnikia. I have heard you were possessed. I saw you flying down in the sea, when I was walking on the beach, so I come to know you. To see for myself, so to speak."

"Who are you, Rose?"

"Eh. I am a stage magician. And seer. I have worked for Grimm, once. And did a pretty good job in the war at the South Pole."

"How did you get there?"

"With the EPS carrier."

"And now? Do you want a place in Vanguard?"

She smiles. "No, I am happy with my job. Your team hide too much in the shadows for my taste. I want the stage."

"So, Rose, tell me: why you are here?"

"I am waiting for you to kiss me"

"Eh?"

"I saw us making love on the beach. And what I see, always happens. So, I am simply waiting for you to do the next move".

The breeze strokes her skin, bringing me the smell of her sweat. I want to eat her. I want to make sex with her. She wants, too, why should I stop?

I kiss her, feeling her pink lips opening in a wide smile.

Than she spreads her legs, and I dive down.