Timelines: What if Spain Failed to Control the World?

Kurt_Steiner: Yes , we should add a halo to Peti's head !

comagoosie: LOL . you're right never thought of that !

VILenin: Thank you for reading the interview !

Judas Maccabeus: haha , the multiplication of the pizzas XD

Kurt_Steiner: You may be on to something there , Kurt ! XD

A status report: Finals weeks coming up so I've been crunched for time . I'm going to try my best to get an update out tonight but i've been hemmed in for sleep . Off to mass for now ...

Specialist290 said:

Get sleep. Sleep is good. Sleep is refreshing. Sleep is something I need more of myself, actually, but do as I say, not as I do

Meanwhile, I've made it up to page 15... You were right about that other surprise--I certainly wasn't expecting Chopin to be the Ming emissary (and it seems I was a bit off on thinking there were occult connections to his zombies, although it was clever the way you connected it to puffer fish poison ).

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Thank you , yes XD . Rationalizing such things are fun !

The scene where Panzerkardinal burst through the wall to rescue Renault and Co. was certainly fun to visualize

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AMEN ! XD That scene was a reference to the (Protestant-sympathetic) anime Hellsing .

Furthermore, once again I'm impressed by the way you seem to work the title theme into both aspects of a chapter in different iterations, especially w/ the "Reunion" chapter. Again, it seems like the two seem to mirror each other slightly--both Antonio and Rodrigo seem to know something that they can't disclose to the others...

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Thank you ! It's part of the 'rhyming' scheme of the entire work .

ForzaA: Haha , it's curious how you guys can figure something out as pizza multiplication but don't dare to touch certain other multiplied objects XD har har , hint !

Kurt_Steiner: I like Pepperoni on my pizza XD

Murmurandus: ROFL . I remember that =( . You crazy people both of you .

Avernite: As always , Avernite , you're closest to the truth XD

Specialist290: Maybe you should have some pizza while reading XD That's what I like to do XD

RGB: Mushrooms are good too ! Green peppers , sausage and pepperoni all together in a happy melange of happiness !

comagoosie: I'm not surprised , but I wonder what the history is behind that .

Specialist290: Yep , you've got it XD The nice , good , Catholic Poirot . My favourite detective of all time . Yes , Rodrigo is a bit tricksy like that . It also helps that they had a past together -- all of them -- if not a bit disconnected here and there .

Yes , we'll be seeing a bit more of Tom's ancestors as well but not for a while . Yep , everyone likes the Panzerkardinal XD !

Bonus update is coming in a few hours !

History of the Woodhouse Dynasty 1570s Part 4: Adolescence Apocalypse (Finale)​

Dear Elly,

At the library again… just wanted to say hello. I know we haven’t spoken much after the incident so I thought I’d sent you this note. I hope… I hope you’re still not mad that I lost. Honestly, I didn’t know you’d be there. I had just assumed you were still back home.

I know what you’re going to say—that you’re not mad. You’ve always been kind to me like that, but when I saw you there, I could tell that I let you down. It was definitely the hardest match I’ve ever had. Anyway… I know you’ve already left the city, but I couldn’t just let you go without saying something. I hope to hear from you again soon.

There was a moment of hesitation as the young man looked at his words. The next moment he stared at his hand as he brought it closer to his face. “What was wrong with you?” he asked it aloud. He squeezed his fingers into a fist and drove his short nails into his palm for a second before releasing it with a sigh.

He leaned back in his chair with breath still passing through his grit teeth. He couldn’t believe it. Sitting back up again, he returned to his letter.

I also wanted to wish you the best of luck on your trip.

Sincerely,
Gideon Woodhouse

The young man clicked on the ‘send’ button before the window cleared itself and returned him the notification: ‘message sent at 9:12AM on February 21, 2007’

---

21 February 2007

A username and password were given. An interface presented itself. A blinking vertical line indicated where text was to appear.

- My name is Kurt, and I’m a Stoner…
- Welcome, Kurt. We hope we can be a safe place for you.

A short pause.

- A friend told me about this place to get anonymous help for my addiction.
- Of course, that’s why we’re here.
- They also told me this is where I can find information on certain people.

There was no answer for a little while.

- We will try to help you.
- There is something wrong, I think. Something has happened on this site, right?
- The Scarlet Academy has had some problems, but this does not concern us here
- Why not?
- We are not here to solve the problems of those who have strayed from our path—that is the job of the Silent Room.

The mentioning of the office of authority produced a halt in the conversation.

- Did you all know Marcus Councilman before?
- She also was here for help.
- But her rehabilitation failed?
- She did not wish to be rehabilitated. We cannot fix those who do not wish to be fixed
- Is she not behind what has been happening on the SA site recently?
- Yes, she is the one responsible for what’s been going on here.
- Then I wish to know more about her.

Again, there was a wait.

- Who is your friend, Kurt?
- Someone who has been in this Room before.
- Why do you want to know this?
- I am trying to help a friend.
- What do you want to know about Marcus?
- Why is she still allowed on the site?
- It is better to have your enemies believe that you are oblivious to their actions or intentions.
- Why was Marcus kicked out of the Academy?
- She was having elicit phone conversations with someone outside of the Programme.
- That’s not in the official records I investigated.
- Your friend who sent you here did not want it to be so in order that Marcus does not know that we know who she spoke to. There is still a trap laid for her that she must fall into.

There was nothing for a short while; it was as if the man was busy processing what he knew together.

- Then you mean the artificial box we have in the Little China vault—
- Correct. It will be a trap for her.
- You obviously know who my friend is. Why did he send me to you?
- You must help him.
- How?
- Soon, we will bring the Royce successor back to the Keys and that will coincide with when we will spring our trap for Marcus.
- And what will be my role in this?
- You are to protect the new Janus. Your friend’s son will soon inherit his father’s responsibilities. And you are to accompany him on this operation.
- But why all the secrecy? Why did I have to come here?
- Because there are enemies lurking even in the Silent Room. In the End, there will be a great turning away from Espana and her ideals, Captain Jakob DeWitt.
- I see… so there was no need to give you a false name, I apologize.
- There is no time for apologies, Captain. You must now fulfill your task and protect the new Janus.
- Very well. I will be prepared to help him.

---

Janus: So are you ready for tomorrow’s test ?

Ronixis: Probably.

Janus: I still can’t believe you picked a History concentration for your essay prompt . What’re you going to do it on ?

Ronixis: I’ve been doing lots of research lately on my counterfactuals.

Janus: You’re kidding , Tom , you’re not going to do a ‘what if’ paper are you ?

Ronixis: I’ve already written so much about it, I might as well.

English_Patriot: Guys, guys, I’m trying to practice here would you mind whispering to each other instead?

Hardstuff: Yeah, it’s starting to get annoying =P

Janus: ROFL , sorry about that , forgot I was still on all-chat .

A short flurry of noise indicated that Janus was transmitting to Ronixis only and vice versa leaving the other two players in the game without their banter.

Ronixis: Why are we here again?

Janus: We’re helping Gideon practice .

Ronixis: Haha, it’s the first time he’s ever asked for comments about his game .

Janus: Well , ever since he lost in the last LAN tournament you can’t blame him . The girl he liked was there and he totally showed off for her . How embarrassing .

Ronixis: He can be a bit of a showoff, but his micro’s not bad .

Janus: Yeah , he needs to work a little on his dragoon shuffle . Aside from that , he just needs to expo faster .

Ronixis: Lost Temple’s a pretty good map to zealot rush.

Janus: Definitely . Not too good to tech goons early if your enemy’s rushing tier 1 especially if you guys spawn next to each other .

Ronixis: Man, did you hear the rumours that SC2’s coming out?

Janus: Yeah—my friend Hayato in Japan gets a lot of the inside info on new games; I weaseled some new units they’re thinking of out of him. One of them is a big War of the Worlds type thing… they’re calling it the Colossus or Crusher … or something like that.

Hardstuff: gg

English Patriot: gg

There was a short change in the screen as all four were dumped back into their b.net™ channel.

English Patriot: Man, that was a hard push at the end there, you almost got me with the reaver drop.

Hardstuff: Yeah, I saw your DTs there when I pushed your main and I didn’t have any obs so I was like “yeah right, I’m going home.” lol

Janus: Definitely better than before . I would have thought you were focusing too much on saving your zeals but I guess you handled your macro pretty well .

Ronixis: Yeah, expoing on that south island was key, I thought. Since Declan didn’t have any obs, he totally didn’t see it.

English Patriot: Toss mirror matches are pretty easy now. Next it’ll be you, Tom. I need to catch up on my toss vs terran.

Ronxis: Haha, yeah yeah. Anyway I better get some rest. I’ve got my History BN test tomorrow.

Janus: So you’ve decided on your essay topic?

Ronixis: Yeah; probably focus on Perpignan. See what would happen if Espana failed. Anyway, good night.

Janus: See ya !

Ronixis has logged off battle.net™

Hardstuff: want to have a 3 way FFA?

Janus: I’ve got to head to bed too … you Euros and your eight hour difference from California .

English Patriot: Haha, well actually I’ve got to get going too actually. My brother’s calling from Japan in a little bit and I promised I’d chit chat with him.

Hardstuff: The University Professor one in Japan?

English Patriot: Yeah, he calls home every end of the month. Anyway, see you all later.

Hardstuff: Night.

Janus: Take care !

---

Dr. Bevan Woodhouse PhD: the words were engraved on a golden plaque at the front of his desk. A mahogany fixture, it housed a mess of papers and books strewn about. English history texts and hand written notes permeated the expanse without discrimination. An elbow graced the edge of the table and connected up to where the Professor of English History at the University of Salamanca in Amagasaki held a mobile phone to his ear.

“So I’ve just been going through all the letters they found that he wrote,” the professor said as he chatted on the phone. The mobile’s interface had already logged twenty minutes of conversation. “He wrote a lot of interesting things to a girl that he probably liked. Aside from that, we know that he went on various clandestine operations for the Spanish government after his time at this ‘Academy.’”

“That’s very cool,” was the voice on the other side of the line.

“Yeah, I’m reading up to the part where he’s in some fencing tournament of sorts at his school,” he said with a smile—he was obviously proud of his namesake. There was a bit of quiet at that, and Dr. Woodhouse’s smile soured into an awkward one. It only took him a moment, however, to remember what it might be that he had neglected. “So I hear you were in a SC LAN tournament this past week,” he recalled with a resumed grin thinking he had guessed what it was that had silenced his younger sibling.

“Oh yeah… World Cyber Games qualifier. Couldn’t make it past the final round…”

“Ahh,” the professor caught himself, “sorry to hear that. That was the one that the girl you liked was cheering you on for wasn’t it? I don’t think you ever told me her name.”

There was a cushioned bit of shuffling of the phone on the other side. “It’s not that important,” the younger brother said. “Anyway, tell me what happened at that fencing tournament for old school Bevan.”

The Professor let it pass with a chuckle; the recent tournament was obviously a sore subject for Gideon. “Not much else is known, actually. He stopped writing letters to the girl after the semi-final match. We can only guess what happened after that...” As he spoke his eyes wandered about the documents and notes of the room and eventually rested on the table on the far side of the office—the one with the opened box containing a worn espada.

---

29 October 1575

The first round he been somewhat merciful to Bevan; he only suffered a knick on his left shoulder by Sebastian’s unforgiving initial attack. It was the fastest match he ever was in. The glancing blow was enough to award Sebastian the round, but it did not stun him as much as the source of his paralysis: the beautiful girl standing at the top of the raised platform. She had not heeded him when he called her name but had only glanced at him once before turning back into a neutral gaze across the field like some watchful cormorant.

“What is she doing here?” the thought quickly passed through his mind as Sebastian was already getting ready on the other end of the field. The cut on his shoulder was washing his tunic a slight spot of crimson. He had to focus now, his instincts warned him. Sebastian knew from the moment of his hesitation the focus of his thoughts. Use it against him! was the impulse as the man on the stand announced the beginning of the second round.

Another rush by his opponent as Bevan looked slack still half staring at the stand—an intentional ruse. Like a thrown javelin slicing through the air to its target, Sebastian Royce only had a fraction of a second to notice that Bevan had lured him into a trap. Reacting quickly, Sebastian recoiled before the parry and riposte could graze him. He was now, however, on the receiving end of a flesh from the Englishman.

Bevan trained his thoughts on taking advantage of the momentum, but he simultaneously noticed the masterful dodge and retreat of the other man—before finally: a soft spit of blood exited Sebastian’s right torso—the round was Bevan’s. Already, the look of indignation spread across Sebastian’s face—he would not be fooled again.

Bevan’s heart pumped faster and his blood felt like boiling glass and quicksilver running through him both refreshing him and weighing his limbs down in fatigue. As he walked back to his starting position, he could not help but pass a glance at the young lady watching the matches.

A strange and strong feeling began to well up inside of his chest. Like a swelling wineskin, it expanded his lungs and made him take deep breaths—what was this sensation? It was like anxiety, he thought, but it made his grip his espada stronger yet with greater flexibility as if the sight of that young lady filled him with a reservoir of fortitude he had not experienced before. He knew simultaneously, though, that it was not enough. From that last round he understood very well that in a straight fight, he would lose to Sebastian Royce. The man was more skilled than he.

His eyes closed for a moment in wicked anger at the possibility of losing this opportunity—and not just for the mission but for those beautiful eyes that had looked at him even for just a second. She was… his friend but more special that that... He knew, then, that there was only one thing he could do.

“Engarde!” the judge said, “Prêt, Allez!” The third round began.

It was a swift exchange. Bevan, thanks to Declan’s advice, knew that Sebastian’s specialty was his reach to the shoulder. It was exactly for this that Bevan rushed into. He knew, however, that he could not break through the other’s defense so he opened himself up while Sebastian, recognizing the weakness, allowed himself to step backward in preparation for his reaching blow.

The crowd let out a loud cry as the third round suddenly ended in a gruesome sight. Bevan had managed to touch the edge of Sebastian’s torso with his blade while his right shoulder was now cut bare from front to back and blood dripping on either side of Sebastian’s blade.

Dislodging from the metal, Bevan fell to his knees as Declan was the first to rush over. “Get the nurse quickly!” he yelled out to the crowd.

“Announce the bout…” were Bevan’s soft words as his eyes watched the ground underneath him redden with some of the droplets from his wound.

“What?” Declan asked as he leaned in. Sebastian could only stand back in horror at the two as more people crowded around.

“I said… announce the winner,” Bevan said more loudly managing to turn his head to a baffled judge to their side.

“S… Senor Woodhouse had the right of way, the bout and match goes to him,” the judge managed to say while staring his stunned eyes at him. Bevan then collapsed on the floor as the nurses and men came around to him.

---

The light in the room was like a furry animal lumbering in front of Bevan’s half open eyes as the shadows of people in the infirmary graced the wall which he looked upon. At the edge of his vision, however, a grinning Irishman’s face greeted him.

“Mmn,” Bevan moaned painfully as he winced towards his right shoulder, “what happened?”

“Just relax!” Declan said forcefully. “You’re in the infirmary… lost a bit of blood there.”

“But the match…”

“It’s over. You defeated Sebastian,” was Declan’s response with a crazed smile on his face. “Didn’t know you had the guts to let yourself get hit like that.”

“You have to do what you have to do to win…” Bevan said tiredly as if there was a small frog lodged in his dry and tired throat.

“Was it really that important to you?”

Bevan seemed to ignore the question… “who won between the masked one and Antonio? When’s my Finals match with—”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” a voice—a familiar voice—came from his left. Despite his injury, Bevan was quick to turn his head to his left. With a curious smile, Elly’s long hair trailed on either side of her shoulders with a regal elegance. Her dress modestly garbed her lithe figure as she stepped towards the bed. “It’s already been decided that you need not compete anymore.”

“But—”

“Instead,” she interrupted him as she came to the edge of the bed, “they’ve already approved you to come on my mission with me. They said they wanted someone who was willing to take up the sacrifice to go do such dangerous tasks and so…” she did not have to finish her statement; she merely greeted his surprise with her smile.

“W…where are we going?” he was almost too scared to ask in his excitement.

“We’re heading to the New World,” she told him, “one of the agents of the Room there named Carmen will be commissioning us to do work for her in investigating the Schwarzschild guild along the West coast.”

All of this made Bevan dizzy in his bed. “I—” he wanted to say something but the words were too jumbled up in his mouth. He wanted to ask so many things such as how she went into training in France with the Academy’s branch there among the other pressing questions. It was those soft eyes, however, that melted him into the cushions of his bed. There would be time to ask later.

The End