Near One-Hundred Years Later...

The dim bluish moonlight lit up the St. Angel bridge in Rome. The hustle and bustle engulfed Jack Hawk as he stuck to his college group. They were on a trip. A trip to study the history and architecture of Rome. A fire suddenly kindled in Jack: a kind of... power. He was walking without looking, and bumped into a tall, lean man.

"Attento! Cominciare a muoversi!" the man yelled.

Get a move on, Jack processed the translation, looking into the man's green eyes. He wore a shining amber pendant, dangling from his chest. He held a book in one arm, with his sleeve rolled up. A tattoo could be seen on it. Jack could make out a single word: Vagabondo.

The man quickly covered the tattoo with his book, and fixed Jack with an intimidating glare. A sudden chill ran up Jack's spine, then spread to his arms, and finally his face. His feet felt like bricks cemented to the ground. He was immobilized. He realized the person before him had a slight grin plastered to his face. The man stepped across Jack and mumbled, "Bambino idiota!"

"Hey!" Jack called after the man. "Did you just call me an idiot?!"

"Ci."

"So is there something you want to say?" Jack said angrily, quickly advancing.

He pressed his hands on the man's chest, preparing to shove him. The man looked at Jack. He balled his fists, hen flicked his fingers and whispered in a crystalline voice, "Absum praecursorius fugax!"

There was a flash of emerald green emanating from the man's palms, and Jack was sent flying though he air. He crashed into the side of the Castel Saint' Angelo and crumpled to the ground. The world around him seemed to slow. No one noticed what had happened. He could see the man snaking through the crowd as if nothing had happened. Spots and purple dots blurred his sight. Everything began to spin. Everything darkened. Everything became nothing as Jack fell into a painful slumber.

Upon waking up, Jack found himself at the Artemide hotel in Rome. A boy  his age named Neil was standing over him, along with their teacher, Mr. Burns. Jack sat bolt upright and felt all the blood rush to his head, and then steady fall. The lightheadedness was completely drowned out by a sharp pain in the back of his head. He quickly grasped the spot. Releasing his grip and examining his hand, he found just what he was afraid of. A crimson, sticky liquid. Blood.

"Here," Neil said, handing me a Band-Aid.

"I don't think that'll help m--"

"Fine." Neil said retracting the band-aid. He grabbed some toilet paper and poured some disinfectant on it. Next, he dabbed some of the liquid onto a cotton ball and lay a small sheet of tape onto the back. He pressed that to the cut on Jack's forehead. Then, he attached the toilet paper to the Band-Aid, and forcefully pressed it to the back of Jack's head. Neil was a genius. Everyone knew it, as well as him. An expert at academics, and athleticism. He eyed Jack with his deep blue pupils. Jack saw worry. He then turned to Mr. Burns and said politely, "May I please have a private moment with Jack?"

"No. He needs to be supervised by--"

"A licensed adult, I know!" Neil finished. "I got an A on that test Mr. Burns, remember? As well as one on medical treatments. Please?"

"If that's okay with Jack, then sure. Why not?"

"Me and Neil have been best friends since Kindergarden, I trust him with my life," Jack answered honestly.

"Alright." Mr. Burns walked out.

"Okay, start at the beggining. And tell me everything that happened."

"Onestamente, Io fare non sapare. In english, I honestly don't know."

The End

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