Awww, I like happy endings too 
. Long chapter though. And does Rodrigo type the same way you do?
. Long chapter though. And does Rodrigo type the same way you do?-
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plots within plots...
Kurt Stoner
And another deWitt, jay! Seems life will be short for the old duke Jimenes, though.
Kurt Stoner
And another deWitt, jay! Seems life will be short for the old duke Jimenes, though.
Bah, he's just the quickest to respond to your sprinkling of new infocanonized said:
But let's assume that the pizza analogy more or less applies to the timepiece(s) and the keys.. What more information can we get out of this..
We know that both timepieces "arrived" at some point.. But where did they come from?
Let's assume they came from the future.. by being sent back ..either through a third (timepiece, keys, third) device, or through some internal ability..
Since they both "arrived", there must be a THIRD timepiece + matching keys!
(afterall, when the second pizza would "arrive" the first pizza was still there)...A more interesting question, perhaps, is, what MORE was sent "back" to the arrivals (besides the timepiece and keys?) ..could it be the Season 1 hero's(&villains) being sent back, possibly to 'start' their respective lines of 'guardians'(so to say) ..but what then of the other arrival... did that (or, "will that") send back the 'now' group, or the 2nd season past, or...?
Further questions... Where are the points "X" and "X+10" of my pizza analogy?
Are there perhaps even multiple of those points, and thus multiple X to X+10 loops?
(In case you hadn't noticed; there will ALWAYS be the 'one pizza'(despite my claim that there is at some point "no pizza") and then potentially 'temporary pizzas', but they are contained within the X to X+10 loop, since they'll have to sent back to be there)
..And delving more into the realm of how this could be possible according to the laws of physics; on the SHORT timescale atleast (and we're talking REALLY short timescale) - particles CAN appear 'out of nowhere' - but an anti-particle must appear as well (so that there is no net creation of mass, energy &c) ..so where are the "anti-pizzas"/"anti-timepieces" ? On a more metaphysical level.. is it perhaps NECESSARY that evil is sent WITH good, back in time?
[I bet you either didn't think of ALL that, or you're a physicist/scientist with better writing skills than myself
]
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Kurt Stoner... the unknown and secret son of Sharon Stoner, methinks...
Why do you look so angry, Peti?
Mmmpgf...
Oh, I see... no Peti Fog, methinks... next time, perhaps... come one, my dear pet, don't be so angry... I have a surprise for you...
Why do you look so angry, Peti?
Mmmpgf...
Oh, I see... no Peti Fog, methinks... next time, perhaps... come one, my dear pet, don't be so angry... I have a surprise for you...
I think the timepieces were sent forward, and were the trigger for the Big Bang.
How?
Simple. Sending things through time messes with the laws of the universe, so doing it collapsed the old universe; However, the timepieces were already outside the universe and survived.
Problem: pre-Big Bang, no time needs to have existed.
So, I think the timepiece-duality is similar to a Bose-Einstein condensate: two same particles caught in a single wavefunction. Or, in other words: Same thing, slight difference, meshed together.
Or it could be even more exotic, I bet.
How?
Simple. Sending things through time messes with the laws of the universe, so doing it collapsed the old universe; However, the timepieces were already outside the universe and survived.
Problem: pre-Big Bang, no time needs to have existed.
So, I think the timepiece-duality is similar to a Bose-Einstein condensate: two same particles caught in a single wavefunction. Or, in other words: Same thing, slight difference, meshed together.
Or it could be even more exotic, I bet.
Good chapter, sir. Enjoyed the match...things are slowly starting to make more sense as I read more from the beginning.
Enjoyed the match...things are slowly starting to make more sense as I read more from the beginning.
Elorei: Thank you XD And why yes he does , doesn't he ? XD XD
Avernite: yes , it's also the first time we've revealed the first name of Captain DeWitt !
ForzaA: :wacko: A dizzying array of possibilities . Some things to think about .
Kurt_Steiner: ROFL . Sharon Stoner .. good grief . XD
Avernite: I'll let you guys keep guessing , I've already given away too much XD
Mettermrck: thank you ! I hope this helped to shed some light on the previous chapters for everyone all around !
Avernite: yes , it's also the first time we've revealed the first name of Captain DeWitt !
ForzaA: :wacko: A dizzying array of possibilities . Some things to think about .
Kurt_Steiner: ROFL . Sharon Stoner .. good grief . XD
Avernite: I'll let you guys keep guessing , I've already given away too much XD
Mettermrck: thank you ! I hope this helped to shed some light on the previous chapters for everyone all around !
Haha oooh, my eyes were glued to the page! I had to re-read the last round a few times just to get a gist of who had won or lost!
Damn good show!
Damn good show!
English Patriot said:Haha oooh, my eyes were glued to the page! I had to re-read the last round a few times just to get a gist of who had won or lost!
Damn good show!
Glad you enjoyed it ! Next week will start more bonuses but with something unexpected and very cool ! Look forward to that as well !
great way of intertwining past and present. The Starcraft stuff was nice aswell.
Jumping back into the present threw me off for a moment but it all came back together very nicely. Will we see more of the Woodhouse family in the future or does the end of these bonus chapters mark the end of their cameos?
Grubnessul: Thanks ! Just wanted to give some more bones for you guys out there in the bonus XD
VILenin: We'll see more of them from time to time . They were mostly a plot device to show you more about previous characters and also to honour EP for all of his great friendship and support .
VILenin: We'll see more of them from time to time . They were mostly a plot device to show you more about previous characters and also to honour EP for all of his great friendship and support .
Just a status report: All's well in studies so far so we expect to get another update out tomorrow as scheduled . Then thursday is one of my finals .
I've also decided that I want to start moving back the Friday updates to Saturday as often as I can to help put more space in between the regular updates for my fields to get refertilized . Glad you all liked the bonus chapter too ! It was fun to be a bit experimental !
I've also decided that I want to start moving back the Friday updates to Saturday as often as I can to help put more space in between the regular updates for my fields to get refertilized . Glad you all liked the bonus chapter too ! It was fun to be a bit experimental !
Swiftthistle said:
Arigatou ! Working on an update now XD Also have a final to study for for tomorrow . SO MUCH TO DO SO LITTLE TIME !
Sweet a bonus chapter.
Declan's the best character in this AAR. No lies. Anyone disagrees with me... You'll get a potato in the mouth!
Declan's the best character in this AAR. No lies. Anyone disagrees with me... You'll get a potato in the mouth!
Hardstuff said:Sweet a bonus chapter.
Declan's the best character in this AAR. No lies. Anyone disagrees with me... You'll get a potato in the mouth!
ROFL have a good birthday , you silly guy ! And yes , he's pretty cool XD XD
RGB said:
Thanks XD So much to study so little time ! Update's coming along nicely . 2/3rds done now !
Chapter LXXVII: Offensive
6 June 1609
Leyla had been in her dressing room wrapping her ivory skinned body with rolls of protective clothing for her next mission when she had received the news from one of her maidservants. The young woman collapsed onto her seat when she had been told what the latest dispatch had relayed to the capital: “Zeren has failed and was killed attempting to escape Bagdad with some of the Sultan’s gold.”
It wasn’t long after before the minister Burak had sent his henchmen to bring Leyla in for questioning in some dark corner of the former Augusteum. She had accompanied them wearily.
“Did you know anything about this?” Burak asked with his croaking voice.
The two sat opposite to each other along a stone table that was as cold to touch as blocks of ice. Leyla sat on one of the wooden seats precariously. Aside from a few oil lamps distributed around the room and hanging from the tall ceiling, there was nothing else of colour in the room. Guards were posted at both exits—two behind where Leyla was sitting and one hiding behind the massive figure of Burak.
Burak Hussein Osama—Al Muwakal of operations in the East for the Sultan—he was also a leading candidate to be next year’s president amongst those spymasters that operated in the Silence of the depths of Konstantiniyye. Leyla recalled all of this as she stared at the oily face stacked against her.
“I knew nothing of this,” Leyla answered. She avoided the obvious mistake of claiming Zeren’s innocence. Although she had the most faith in the young man’s fidelity—she had experienced it herself for so long and in so many situations—she also knew that defending Zeren would require more than mere testimony.
“You do understand what will happen now, Leyla; this is unacceptable!” The voice had started with a menacing, slicing whisper before a crescendo of deep bellowed rage. The fat one rose to his feet quickly almost knocking his chair down onto the damp floor. “I won’t let my election next year be ruined by incompetent—” at this point the spit was already beginning to reach halfway across the table as he roared. He stopped himself mid sentence, however.
Leyla, although greatly disturbed at the whole situation hid her tense muscles underneath the veneer of her clothes and stoic face. She did not even have time for tears at the thought that Zeren might have been—wait, she suddenly noticed the reason why the minister had stopped talking. He had caught the glimpse of something behind her.
“Amir Shahim!” the minister stuttered as he stepped back. Leyla immediately stood up and turned around regarding the prince that just entered the chamber with guards already saluting him.
---
Leyla’s suspicions ran behind the secretive veil of her eyes like runners bringing an important message to their home city; every part of her boiled energy attempting to deciphering the situation at hand. She nonetheless took her seat in Amir Shahim’s waiting room without savoring the cushions provided.
“I’m very sorry about the news that came in about your friend,” Shahim said coming back into the room with some coffee on a tray—there were no servants around to serve them… how strange. Leyla remained in her seat without a word. “And I also apologize for the treatment Burak was giving you,” the prince added.
Leyla did not take any of the coffee offered to her as she stationed herself demurely on the seat. This was too convenient for her tastes. “I don’t believe he betrayed us,” she said to the point.
The prince was of the usual royal stock—strong and brutishly handsome like a metaphor for the intriguing beauty of the Sublime Porte. He was also a prominent figure among those who remain without words—in the chamber of silence. Leyla hoped, she thought, that if this was a sincere inquiry then the prince would overrule Burak’s findings. “I’m afraid the evidence is damning,” the prince retorted after he sipped from his beverage. His head motioned side to side in silent consolation the way a cobra’s head gyrates before a strike.
Leyla’s eyes would have narrowed if it weren’t for her years of experience telling her not to. “What evidence is there?” she asked tersely.
The prince’s eyes casually watched his own lavish tapestries for a moment before he put down his cup. Leyla could hear the audible smattering of the container against the table—something the prince perhaps did not intend. His face erupted into a silly smile. “Either way,” he tried to redirect the question, “Burak is convinced of his guilt—and I’d like to offer my services so that we do not lose a talented agent such as yourself… your father would not have to worry so much.”
Again, Leyla stared at the coffee stained teeth of ‘his majesty’ across from her. She could sense him leaning forward at the words. “And what do you want from me?” was the shrewd question. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought her strong reaction increased the young man’s grin and excitement.
“I wish for you to be my personal assistant in… the coming matters. The war will require—”
“I’m afraid that would be a bit inappropriate, your highness,” Leyla said standing to her feet. The audacity of her disrespect forced the prince to similarly stand but not as gracefully.
“I don’t think you have any choice here,” the prince iterated with one hand balled into a fist the other hand holding the other’s wrist in front of him. He even took a step closer to her slowly.
The moment stunned Leyla; her suspicions, verified, now accosted her in a vicious stare from across the small gap between her and a prince of the Imperial family. Her breathing made the small veil against the lower half of her face puff forward and back before she turned the other way.
“I thank you for your help, your majesty, but I refuse,” she said to the empty side of the room, “and honestly,” she added with a pause. It was here that she turned around to face him. “What are you trying to do here is supremely offensive. Not just to me, but to Allah. One of these days you will understand that when men lose their nobility—their manliness—they will turn into lecherous cowards like yourself. Boys who have not learned what it means to sacrifice themselves for those they love; if this is the future of our Empire then you will see more women such as myself dishearten and rebel—something I do not wish, but something that will happen the more men forget their responsibilities.”
The rage and shock on the prince’s face erupted in a pointed finger at her, with an arm outstretched as if it were ready to shoot his hardened heart like a fireball to kill her. “Your insolence will—”
“I am as good as dead already,” she didn’t care about propriety now; more than that, she already reached deep into her pockets in preparation for any sudden movements. “Burak and most likely you had already planned it to be. But I would rather choose death than slavery.”
The prince made a dash for her; both of his arms stretching out to strangle her on the spot, but Leyla quickly hopped backward and threw a vial on the floor which crashed into a pool of slick oil. The prince, in his blind rage slipped on the substance and precipitated into him crashing into a nearby table.
Guards streamed into the room at the noise as the young man used the wooden artifice to help himself to his feet. Saying a word to his men, however, would not help—the young lady with a complexion like a sea of salt had already disappeared.
---
“I was wondering where you had gone!” Renault chuckled aloud as the edge of the moon parting from one of the clouds above illumined his older face. “I had sent one of my men to search the city to get you and travel south to meet up with us once we had gotten to Alexandria!”
Madeleine held her nose upward even in the presence of her uncle, “It was your fault for telling me to stay in that run down hotel anyway. I accompanied you to get some real experience.”
“Now, now, Madeleine, being so far away from home it’s not exactly the best place to be testing yourself out.” Already, Renault’s voice had that fatherly tone as he leaned back on the side of the merchant ship. He knew that someone Madeleine’s age would already have been commissioned for several missions—all he had to do was look at Willem, Riku, and Raul busily managing the affairs of the ship.
Madeleine, on the other hand, huffed and approached the edge of the ship as well and graced the rim with her gloved hands. She was close to the tow line which connected the larger merchant vessel with the small boat on the other end where the two Turks were now sorting their provisions. “Looks like Zeren and Abdullah will be heading home soon,” she said with an almost longing sigh escaping her exuberant lips into the night air. “It was lucky that you and the other Lions wanted to steal the same boat as we did,” she changed the subject with a capricious hop in her calves.
“Well, that Raul is a smart one. He knew this was the fastest ship. What surprised me more were those two and getting that extra boat for them,” Renault said turning around from his leaning back position to regard the towed vessel.
“Raul’s very adamant about helping them, but I can’t say I blame him. They did a lot to help them get to Jerusalem,” Madeleine said tapping her parasol lightly on the deck as she leaned against the railing with her other hand.
“Yes, so you’ve told me,” Renault replied but with a graver thought as he let his eyes lose focus of the boat. He looked to the water and thought about other things: Raul had succeeded in getting the Key. That means... He looked over to where Raul was helping some of his Lions secure the sails. It might be true what the Room has said… he might actually be able to bring them back, after all.
A smile brewed on his face and stretched all of his wrinkles into visibility. However, as his view wandered to the now disappearing coastline of the Levant, his face slackened. The Persians would arrive at Jerusalem by tomorrow, he thought, would General Schenkhuizen be alright?
“Senor de Fronsac!” someone called out from the front.
“What is it?” the Burgundian asked turning about. He did not need to be told; he saw the sails shifting from shadow into moonlight ahead of them. There were dozens of them… They were flying standards hard to discern at first, but Renault eventually recognized it: a crescent moon ready to devour a star.
---
7 June 1609
On the bright hills of the area around Jerusalem, General Schenkhuizen had rallied three thousand of his men on the right flank personally led by him. Two thousand were on his far left flank. In the middle were a thousand lightly armed militia—the most vulnerable part of his army. The walls of Jerusalem imposed directly behind his center so that his men in the middle represented a length of the wall of Jerusalem and his right and left flanks were like the city’s wings.
On the opposite end were three divisions of Persians with at least eight thousand men each opposite of General Schenkhuizen’s forces and they were already advancing. He could also see two thousand horse moving to his left flank but very far off—probably wary of another trap from the coast-side, he assumed. As he expected, the Persians were showing with this move that they did not want to be caught off guard again. Similarly, General Schenkhuizen guessed that the remaining thousand horse was across the Jordan in case he had placed divisions there to outflank the Persian main force.
“They’re approaching, General!” someone called out in a panic. Indeed, they were all uneasy and it was clear to see the mass coming forward. The announcement, however, seemed to add some nerve to the men. It’s finally begun. The crack of arquebusiers plying their trade as the enemy closed in filled the front lines with some smoke. Everyone could already hear the crunch of sand underneath foot as the mass entered range.
As expected, the General noticed that the Persians were concentrating most of their men in the center and hoped to break the weak militia middle. “Now!” he called out as he raised his sword into the air. A horn sounded and his entire host turned about and began to march backward. The center, quickly rushed in almost terror back into the gates of the city.
The gates fastened shut and the two wings now pressed their length against the ends of the walls and turned about as the Persians began to collide with them. Just as planned, the center of the Persian line was now faced with a solid wall in front of them and with both flanks meeting both of the Spaniards’ flanks and the militia manning the walls, the middle eight thousand was caught where nowhere to push. One third of the Persian army was already outmaneuvered.
In the melee, General Schenkhuizen saw the successful signal flag from the top of the battlements signaling that they had tricked the middle third into inactivity. Assuming a pitched battle and not a siege, those Persian ground troops had no immediate means to assault the city and thus began to take the long journey to try and outflank one of the sides.
“They’re heading east!” one of the lieutenants over the clash of metal called out. Indeed, the General could now spy the standards of the Persian centre division attempting to move around their flank and intercept him. Simultaneously, the General spied another flag from the battlements—it signaled that the left flank was being routed…
Interlude
Dr. Ueda Tatsuma had already assigned three men for his left flank coming up the road leading towards the house. As far as they could tell, no one had attempted to move the Keys even when the body of Dr. Poltok was being shipped back to the Holy Land. Indeed, there was no more delaying and no more choice—the team would need to infiltrate the house and get the objects themselves.
Four of them would come in from the right side of the intersection with the three flanking from the left. A team of two were to cover the rear in case any attempted to exit through the back door of the house—the van was there waiting for them complete with dented side from their run in the first time. “On my signal,” he said into his microphone. He would lead the main team coming in from the right into the main doorway.
“All stations are green,” was heard into his ear.
“Hashin!” he gave the signal.
Rushing up the stairwell, Ueda was the first to kick in the door and his second man pointed his weapon up the stairwell. “Clear,” he said quickly as Dr. Ueda and the others started to climb the steps with one man staying at the doorway.
The main hallway of the apartment was dark and there was no sound except for the incessant ticking of the old style clock. Crouched low, the team weaved into and separated into three portions; one taking the living room, the other the front bedroom, and Dr. Ueda heading to the rear bedroom.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing here either,” the Doctor said as they regrouped, checked the bathroom and then rushed into the chapel. Aside from the images of Christ, there was nothing in that nook at the front of the house. “Did anyone try to leave through the back?” he asked impatiently.
“No one,” the voice responded.
“Kuso…,” he cursed, “Team Left, check the basement. Rest of you, up here to the attic.”
---
Taguchi was still trying to dry his clothes as they walked along the narrow corridor. A few minutes ago they had all taken turns diving into that creepy well that was housed at the bottom of the house each with their own breathing device. It took about five minutes to reach the bottom of the murky water before it opened up into an underground reservoir. It took another five minutes to emerge to the surface of the reservoir and the platform that led to the corridor he now treaded.
“The alarms’ gone off upstairs; they’re in the house,” the voice of the one they called Captain DeWitt announced through the corridor. “It’ll be a matter of time before they find the entrance to this complex. We’ll need to come out the second exit soon.”
The idea of strange men in his home seemed to strike at Taguchi’s chest like a sorrowful chord. His personal belongings were still up there and aside from the little essentials that he had brought with him in a plastic container, everything was abandoned.
Pablo held onto Taguchi’s shoulder as they went through the corridor as if he was a blind man being led forward uneasily. At first, it troubled Taguchi but he realized how for someone like Pablo, nothing like this had ever entered into his experience. Even Taguchi himself received certain kinds of training when he was younger, but it would have been worlds away from anything Pablo had seen or experienced—why was it that they had brought him along too?
“I’m sorry we had to do this,” Taguchi heard Hayato’s voice say as that cousin turned his head back to look at him. “But right now we don’t have the resources to combat a group like that all the way here in Japan. This is also the other reason we needed to use this house—it’s connected to this Great War era bunker.”
Taguchi merely nodded not quite sure how to respond. “W… where are we going?” he asked quietly.
“We have to get help for Tom,” Hayato said nodding his head in the direction of Rodrigo and Carlos helping each other to hoist an unconscious Thomas forward. “There should be a waystation down here with a vehicle. There we’ll make our temporary retreat to a place I know and I’ll fill you in on more there.”
A retreat, Taguchi thought. Just a retreat… Perhaps one day they would return and that life he had hoped to live might still be waiting for him several meters above.
Chapter LXXVIII: Retreat (coming soon)