Timelines: What if Spain Failed to Control the World?

[canonized]

Just a status report folks . I'll probably have the next update up tomorrow . Lots of homework to get done in the interim ! It's going to be a very fun chapter lots of surprises for you all in store ! We're on schedule for a second update on Saturday and then the end of the weekend with another interview of course

[Calipah]

Very nice chapter C. Whats with the Orwellian ending though?

[canonized]

Very nice chapter C. Whats with the Orwellian ending though?

Haha you'll see tomorrow ! It'll be a very fun chapter !

[Sematary]

Sadly to say I got really sick. So I couldn't read.

[canonized]

Sadly to say I got really sick. So I couldn't read.

Lots of people have been catching up lately so it's all good . Hope you feel better !

[ForzaA]

C'mon people..we need some help with the quiz (well, the chinese/japanese bit anyway)

[JimboIX]

I like how interactive you make all of this...

[canonized]

ForzaA: XD only one element away !! There was a clue as to what it was in the last chapter too XD

JimboIX: Thanks ! I hope to see you catch up and interact with us more fully , old friend ^^

[motiv-8]

Sorry, just got around to reading the last update, having to wade through all these comments and quizzes. A seventeenth century blood transfusion, how novel! I hope it works...

[comagoosie]

Sorry, just got around to reading the last update, having to wade through all these comments and quizzes. A seventeenth century blood transfusion, how novel! I hope it works...

I hope it doesn't. I already pronounced Renault dead

[canonized]

motiv-8: I'm sure Renault will recover nicely XD

comagoosie: Haha , I'm sure you'll get your chance XD .

Working on the update as we speak . You guys are going to love this one XD

[canonized]

Chapter LXXXVIII: 1984

Antonio eased his aching muscles as he brought down Isabella’s unconscious form against the spot that Nia had cleared out for them. “We’ll be safe here,” Nia said as she pulled some branches away, “But we’ll need to move again soon if we want to find any shelter.”

Antonio nodded without marking the one who spoke to him. Instead, his arms and eyes attended to the slightly bloodied form underneath him. The atmosphere around Antonio was gagged by dust and ash. In the darkness of the veiled moonlight, even the trees around the clearing fidgeted anxiously as if the dark earthen cloud was choking every leaf into its death throes. If it weren’t for the glaze of liquid lining Antonio’s eyes, he would have been squinting at the biting touch of the malicious dust. “We’ll get help soon,” he said quietly to the one he cradled.

“Antonio?” someone asked although the words were carried off immediately by the howling of the incensed wind. It was not the lady’s voice in his arms, however, but a man’s voice a few paces from where Antonio was kneeling.

“Jakob,” Antonio calmed the voice down although his arms did not unlock from Isabella’s frame to go over to his friend. “Don’t worry, you’re alright now,” Antonio explained though Jakob visibly stiffened every time he attempted movement.

“What happened?...” the young man asked from the floor resigning himself to the cool dirt for a little while.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Antonio admitted before jerking his head to one side to cough out some of the soot that was building up in his lungs. Even as he answered the question, Antonio was already running through the past few hours in his head attempting to recollect what had occurred after the darkness overtook them. When light returned—

“My uncle?!” Jakob called out, interrupting Antonio’s thoughts seeing the young man reach upward and attempt to raise himself adamantly.

“He’s alright,” Nia answered for Antonio as her hand took hold of Jakob’s shoulder and eased him back to the ground. “He would have been crushed underneath the Arena rubble but his armour protected him,” she explained.

Jakob sighed heavily although he couldn’t help a sardonic smile. “I’ll never complain about that ugly set of red metal every again...” he spoke with eyes closed.

“He’ll be back soon,” Antonio said with a kind of reassurance that perhaps was more directed towards himself, “we tried to find Sio-Pan initially, but he was long gone along with that flesh puppet Zio...” the thought of the Lydia he had met through Isabella’s company hiding underneath the stitched skin forced a quiver down his spine as he spoke. “When they were patrolling around where our chunk of earth crashed, they saw some lights over the hills. I sent both of them there to get some help or supplies or both.”

---

“Tread cautiously,” Cardinal DeWitt grunted as he and Sweet slid down the embankment. The final hill was the tallest before the lights of the town filled the night sky like dull candle lamps. When the two pair of feet landed on the hard surface, both froze as they looked up. “Do you recognize this city?” the Cardinal asked the shorter one genuinely puzzled.

“No,” was the terse reply by the Korean as both eyes scanned the immediate horizon. “There seems to be someone in that building up ahead.”

“A store?” the Cardinal couldn’t help but whisper still holding his giant spear in one hand ready to strike at invisible opponents should they decide to make themselves known.

“Yes, it appears to be...” Sweet responded gravely. Both followed the bright illumination within to the top of the building’s front where multicoloured lights.

“But what kind of store would be open at night... unless it was a brothel house...”

“7-Once,” Sweet read the orange, red, and green sign. “Please wait here, Eminence” the young man said, “you’ll attract attention in your armour... I’ll go in alone and see if I can ascertain some information.”

Sweet took his first steps towards the well lit store almost having to narrow his eyes at the brightness inside. The white brightness rivaled what he could remember of the previous day. In order to get to the building, he had to cross an ebony river of small paved stones before stepping in front of the double glass and metal doors. A careful gloved hand, hesitant yet resolved, reached for the handle.

---

When Sweet opened the door, it was like a phantasm gripped his entire body and a wintry suction was expelling him from hallowed ground. Steeling his nerve, he braved the strange wind and stepped onto the filed floor. Looking up, Sweet could see a man behind a counter looked up from a book he was reading with narrowed eyes that, were it not for Sweet’s experience, would have seemed like a hostile glare.

Each step became easier and the coldness which permeated the inside—a kind of unnatural coldness—stirred Sweet’s hair around his neck to stand on end. Rows of shiny materials matching each other in genre dominated his view but he continued to walk straight towards the only man in sight.

Sweet regarded the man as he returned the stare. A strange tunic reminiscent of the more hauty affair of certain Florentines yet overly simplified decorated the man’s upper torso. A medallion was attached to the tunic as well with a name etched on it—perhaps the reward from a prince who found favour with this man, Sweet thought. Perhaps it was a poor prince, Sweet continued pondering on his way up the nave of the store, for the decoration did not shimmer like real gold. What kind of merchant was this?

“Señor,” Sweet addressed him, “If thouest can; do tell me what city this is?” The man did not stop that crooked stare except Sweet thought he noticed the man tilt his head and narrow his eyes further. “Do you speak Spanish, Señor?” Sweet asked suddenly feeling uneasy: he noticed the man eyeing his clothes.

For a moment, Sweet was about to try the myriad of other languages that he could speak fluently when he noticed the man’s face changed. The stranger’s ebony topped head straightened and the thin stuble came to life in an excited grin. “You must be one of those here for the Games! I can never understand your guys’ accents, my apologies!” the man exclaimed in recognition putting down his book with a chuckle trailing his movements.

Sweet was the one to take his turn at confusion. “the Games?” he asked pinching his mouth together.

“Los Juegos,” the merchant reiterated slowly suddenly sensitive about the inflections of his Spanish. In order to help communications, he pointed with his thumb to a kind of glossy tapestry on the wall.

Sweet read the top quickly: “XXIII Juegos Olímpicos…” he said out loud, “A.D. MCMLXXXIV…”

Sweet’s arms slackened against the sides of his body. “Though I’m curious why you’re so far from the stadium,” the man continued to speak to him, “Did you happen to get lost?” Sweet’s eyes returned to the merchant’s bemused expression but he did not know exactly what to say. “Lots of the tourists from the other provinces get lost sometimes,” the man spoke as he reached down under the counter and brought out some folded papers, “Maybe I could interest you in a map of the city?”

It was at that that Sweet’s eyes widened. “Yes, please, Señor,” the spy replied.

“I’ll make you a deal,” the merchant advertised proudly pressing the paper forward. “Five peseta even; this one’s even got all the sights highlighted.”

Sweet hesitated once more as he had his hand on his pouch. Peseta—was this man Catalan? Nonetheless, he placed five reales on the table. He then smiled graciously as he took the paper into his hands. “Thank you, Señor,” Sweet said except he suddenly became keenly aware that the man looked at him strangely once more. “Do... you not accept Spanish currency?” Sweet asked quizically attempting to guess the newfound problem. “I can assure you, Señor, that it is nine parts out of ten real silver.”

The merchant’s head bobbed backwards and his eyes contorted even more grossly than Sweet had first seen when he walked in. “Real silver you say?” there was a hint of delight in the question as the man’s fingers touched the round objects and dragged them closer to his side of the counter.

“Minted at the Peninsula,” Sweet re-iterated.

---

Cardinal DeWitt had gone to pacing along the hard stone surface that bordered the static nightly river separating him from the store. He could see Sweet at all times, but the long wait made him impatient. Despite his heavy armour, he stomped back and forth with relative finesse.

As he watched Sweet turn and walk in his direction, he muttered a “finally…” under his breath. But as Sweet approached the doorway, he heard a howling screech from down the road that resonated even within his battered metallic coverings. Following the initial noise was the sound of a hundred hounds growling. Two lamplights temporarily blinded him but he recovered quickly as the strange apparition bounded up the road’s hill and approached his position as fast as a bird flew in the air. But no… it wasn’t heading in his direction. “Look out!” he called out to Sweet who, being inside the doors when the first sound appeared, was now stepping onto the road.

There was no time; a whistle competed with the sound of the strange object as the Cardinal’s massive weapon launched with the speed of an arrow towards the road. Crashing into the incoming object like a cannonball, the collision was coupled with that howling noise once more as the machine veered to the right and collided with the side of the store that Sweet now exited.

Pulling on the chain to retract his weapon, the Cardinal recovered his javelin in time for Sweet to have run across the street. Both began racing up the embankment once more.

---

“It’s only us,” Cardinal DeWitt called out past the bushes.

“Uncle!” Jakob cried back even before Nia could reconnoiter the others as they approached. Jakob forced himself to sit upward against a tree.

Sweet was the first to enter and then the massive form of the Cardinal breaking branches with his armour as he trudged into the clearing. “How are you all doing?” The Cardinal asked gravely. His eyes traveled from his beaten but smiling nephew to Antonio who looked up at him with worry.

“We need to get to a hospital,” Antonio told him quietly.

“I’ve brought some supplies from the store, something the merchant called Perrito caliente though it just looks like pan and chorizo to me…” Sweet said as he began to hand out bread and sausages from a paper bag he carried. “We also managed to get a map.” He handed that along with some food to Antonio.

“What is this?” Cardinal DeWitt asked as he handled one of the paper cups that Sweet handed out next. “Black champagne?” he asked curiously as he watched the bubbles rise to the surface of the drink.

“It tastes like molasses water,” Nia commented after taking her first sip. Her face looked down at it with some dissatisfaction.

“The merchant insisted that I take it as well…” Sweet said with a shrug before biting into his bread. “I’ve marked the place with this strange stylus the man gave me where we are through figuring out the streets names along the way,” Sweet said to Antonio.

“Griffith Park…” Antonio read the thick and pungent black mark quietly. “Here…” he said pointing to the cartography, “Nia, Isabella, myself and Jakob will head to St. Vincent’s Hospital. Your Eminence, I’d like you and Sweet to go to the Cathedral of St. Vibiana. After we eat we’ll start moving. Sweet, have you—”

“I memorized it on the way here. The map can stay with you,” Sweet pre-empted Antonio.

“Your Eminence, I’ll count on you to get the support of the local government to catch Sio-Pan and the others. Sweet, come to the hospital once you and the Cardinal have made arrangements.” The others nodded. “Good luck.”

Antonio brought his eyes back to the map which was now only dimly lit by the small campfire they had built for themselves. Luckily, the ash and dust from the collision of the huge chunk of Greek land against the contours of Griffith Park had finally begun to subside in the tortuous winds. Antonio read the top of the page where Sweet had marked some details for him. “1984… Los Angeles.”

Interlude

“During the 1984 Olympic Games,” Professor Alejandro read aloud from his book, “A small earthquake was felt throughout the city interrupting one of the pole vault competitions, did you know that, Ueda?”

History had always been Professor Alejandro’s forte—at least, when he wasn’t hunting for those silver and gold objects that determined so much of the going-ons in the world. His North American History class was meeting tomorrow and there was simply no time to review for a lesson plan. To that end, he brought his text book with him in the van; the van that Dr. Ueda was driving him and a few masked men to where they were to meet with Pablo. The constant light illuminating the sea of ski-masked ebony faces made it seem like he was in a taxi cab headed for the Abyss.

Aside from profiting from his tenure as a professor at the U.S.A., Professor Alejandro spent his off time making money through the criminal activities of both the Ming Clique and the Wolves. Speaking of that profit, it was precisely some of that money that was now in the back of the vehicle awaiting to be exchanged for what his incompetent goons could not deliver for him—the Keys of St. Andrew.

“Ahh, Nippon,” he said in his acquired Japanese, “a land of treachery and deceit that far surpassed even the feudal rivalries of the Old World…” he said out loud to no one in particular. The others remained mute and followed the waves and bumps of the vehicle—they were used to their boss’s eccentricities.

“The pickup point is coming up,” Ueda announced as he pressed harder on the pedal of the van. Professor Alejandro put down his book and folded his glasses into his coat pocket.

“Tell me, Ueda,” Alejandro asked with a clever curve to his lips as he spoke, “do you know why it was so easy to convince Pablo to accept the money?” he asked playfully to his driver and lieutenant.

“I have no idea,” Ueda replied in return; he was more focused on the narrow streets of suburban Japan.

“It’s quite simple, really,” Alejandro began to explain, but he paused for a dramatic effect—or perhaps a condescending one. “When I was a boy in Mexico, my father taught me something my ancestors kept alive for centuries. Something the Spanish never were able to snuff out with their Inquisitors and friars. It is the power to manipulate minds, Ueda: Aztec Magic.”

Ueda looked back through the rear view mirror. He had heard of Alejandro’s eccentricities many times before and even about his childhood in Mexico, but this was the first time he mentioned something so crazy. “ETA is fifteen seconds,” Ueda said to the rest of the van although he let an eye catch Alejandro’s smug smile every now and again through the same mirror.

“During the Great War, my father was punished by mobs saying he was a sorcerer,” Alejandro continued undaunted, “and they would have killed me too except my mother brought me to Japan and changed our name to Alejandro to cut us off from our past. When my mother died, I inherited my family’s powers, Ueda. They say my ancestors were so good at manipulating thoughts that they made the dying seem like they were going to live again and they made a lot of money convincing the families that dead men were still alive. This is why I’m a valuable asset to the Ming and the Wolves, Ueda. The last of the Ortiz—the last one who knows Aztec Magic.”

Chapter LXXXIX: Aztec Magic (coming soon)

[canonized]

There you guys go , update is up . I bet you guys didn't expect that to happen but I thought it was about time you guys got a bit of revelation instead of being in the dark all the time XD . Enjoy and please let me know what you think !

[Lotus-6]

just caught up, great stuff

[Murmurandus]

1984... Mmmm... it does ring a bell...

[canonized]

Lotus-6: Sweet Glad to hear it !

Murmurandus: A little deja vu ? XD

[Avernite]

1984? Ahh, before my time

It appears the chaps have ended up in a somewhat different time, but the good thing is that healthcare is likely better

[Davout]

Bon Anniversaire!!! This has been a wonderful enterprise to date. It is astounding how you have managed to keep this level of intensity and freshness in narrative going for a year now. This ranks amongst the great AAR's not only for the story but for the offshoots you have made with the "you have been canonized" interviews and extras.

Interesting resolution to the great disappearance. I am not sure what the significance of a time jump of 400 years and 5 months, and half the planet is. There was a touch of Les Visiteurs and I am hoping for a bit of Star Trek IV later. I am also glad to see Nia is in one piece and ready for action.

[Kurt_Steiner]

Now I know why I missed this AAR when it started. A year ago I had one of the worst days of my life. The very day that this AAR was born, my pet died after a long illness.

Life goes on, methinks.

Well... when are the girls going to begin their strip tease, BTW?

[grayghost]

I'll get to the update soon. 1984...how Orwellian.