Greetings, readers:
Thank you for reading this fan-made work...
I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I, Wissumi Wizaki, wish you a happy reading.
1050 years before the birth of Naruto (B.N.)
Author's Note: B.N. stands for "Before Naruto's Birth."
January 1st
In that suspended twilight, my mind drifted through the final moments of my life in Italy: the cold marble beneath my body, the scent of gunpowder, and blood tracing a map of my farewell. I knew my time as Il Silenziatore had ended. I accepted death with the same elegance with which I wore Mrs. Boris's suits. But the gods—or that "capricious narrator" called fate—had other plans.
The void expressed itself as an absolute silence, forcing one to follow it without protest. Then, I felt a golden presence. It didn't emanate enmity, nor familiarity; it was something I recognized without being able to name. She, however, did not feel the same and fought fiercely against the fusion.
The vacuum began to exert its will. A vast and dominant energy of space pushed us toward union, ignoring the struggle, until it finally fused us—me, that golden presence, and my soul—into a single being.
At the height of the conflict, resistance transformed into recognition. That soul vibrated with the same values my grandfather Chipiatre taught me: protection, honor, and the family as the center of everything. Even so, we felt like strangers to one another; a missing ingredient was needed to coexist. Then, my cunning was tinted by its light, and its legend was armed with my venom.
And in a moment of epiphany, my existence brushed against the mortality of the flesh and the forgotten rhythm of breath once more.
The first breath hit me like a shot at point-blank range. The air was pure, heavy with a humidity unknown to modern cities, inside a dark place. My hands pushed against a smooth, cold surface. I emerged from a colossal oyster—a symbol of purity and power—and fell onto the damp sand of the riverbank.
—Where am I?
I stood up with the fragility of a fawn, feeling the river water lap at my ankles. I sought my reflection in the current, and what I saw stopped my heart.
My hands were small and lacked the scars of fifty years of war. I calculated my age: five winters stared back at me from the water.
—I am five years old —I whispered.
Hair as blond as the morning sun and eyes that, though childish, carried an ancestral seriousness. It was the face of Giotto, the first Vongola, the one I admired so much in my past life through that "work of inspiration" which served as my secret guide.
In that instant, pain exploded in my head. A violent emotional connection unified my two worlds. I, the man who controlled the underworld with "ordered crimes" and an iron fist, now inhabited the body of a being destined to create something sacred. The calculating gangster and the holy protector became one.
I looked at my small hands and clenched my fists.
—So... Giotto exists, and that means the world of Katekyo Hitman Reborn does too. And I, to Giotto, am a being from another universe, from another reality.
I looked up and took in my surroundings. The forest breeze felt different. It wasn't the scent of Italian olives, nor the steam of feudal Japanese rice. It was... new. Virgin air, with no trace of blood-stained streets or the smoke of gunfire.
I awoke in this new world with a duality resonating in my senses: two memories, two identities, distinct from each other and yet mine.
The first blow was emotional. Luciano Gravina—the modern mafioso who sowed chaos in the streets of Italy—remembered every stolen kiss, every betrayal, every order whispered in the shadows. His obsession with power and his secret love for Katekyo Hitman Reborn had marked him to the bone.
The second blow was one of lucidity. Giotto, the noble Vongola Primo, the just and serene leader who founded a family to protect the weak, remembered every battle, every laugh, every sacrifice.
Both memories exploded within him and merged as if they had always been one.
—So... I have been reborn? —he whispered, in Japanese tinged with his old Italian accent.
He observed his small hands, still clean and innocent. He knew they would not stay that way for long if only Luciano prevailed. But in that body also lived Giotto—the compassionate, the just—and that changed everything.
—Living with two consciences will be difficult... —he murmured—. Although perhaps, with time, both will forge something new. Something in harmony.
[Template System — Activated]
Welcome, (Giotto) Luciano Lesuya Sawada Gravina.
In your original worlds you have perished, but your will remains, regardless of space or time.
System: User, this is the Template System. I have been designed to assist you in the integration of new energies, evolution, and the manifestation of otherworldly abilities.
Giotto (thinking): —What on earth is this? A voice? A system?
System: Confirmed. The system will allow you to recover abilities, knowledge, weapons, and entities linked to your previous existence.
—Previous existence? You mean the world of Katekyo Hitman Reborn?... That means the Dying Will Flames.
System: Exactly.
—And how will that be possible?
System — Available Functions:
[Observation]: Physical status — 5-year-old child. Fragile. Requires improvement to survive.
[Quests]: Complete tasks to obtain rewards as you advance toward your objectives.
[Rewards]: Abilities, Elemental Flames, special weapons, and summons.
[Templates]: Grant specific roles and abilities with passive and active effects, originating from your previous existence as Vongola Primo.
[Summons]: Guardians and allies.
—So... I can recover my Flames?
System: Affirmative. The essence of the Dying Will Flames lies dormant within you. However, this world does not yet recognize them; the system will adapt them gradually. Synchronization requires time and specific conditions so they are not perceived as an anomaly.
—What would happen if this world detected my powers and discovered I am someone from another world?
System: It would view you as an aberration, a virus capable of damaging space, time, and destiny across the astral and mortal planes. You would be eliminated immediately.
Giotto paled. The warning did not seem illogical to him at all. No one can do as they please in foreign territory.
—Then, in the future, I won't be able to interfere in the important events of this world... though I don't know what they are either.
System: Good question. Most of the transcendent events of this world have not yet begun. However, I recommend you do not eliminate people with a consolidated destiny, nor attempt to stop a major event before it occurs. You could be present when it happens, or even save someone destined to die soon...
—Fine. I will be cautious. The good thing is that, thanks to you, I will have my powers again... So, let's begin.
— Active Quests —
Main Quest: «Rebirth of the Will»
Objective: Lay the foundations of the Underworld. Recruit agents, secure a secret base, and establish your rules.
Progress: 0%
Rewards: Summoning of your six Guardians and ancient beasts; Ring of the Will.
Objective 2: Adaptation to the Sky Flame
Objective: Train and actively use the Sky Flame. Continuous exposure will improve compatibility.
Progress: 0%
Rewards: Willingness Mode; Hyper Mode; Negative Modes (locked).
Side Quest: «The Beginning of an Empire»
Objective: Recruit 3 youths to start your organization.
Progress: 0/3
Rewards: Sky Flame; Vongola Hyper Intuition.
…
Daily Quest: «Forging the Temple»
Objective: Train your body for at least 3 hours a day.
Rewards: +00.1% Flame Synchronization; increased physical endurance; progress in passive skill: «Iron Body».
—These are many missions, and very difficult ones. It will take me several years to fulfill them all.
System: Does the user require explanations regarding the quests?
Giotto shook his head and closed the interface with a gesture. He didn't need further explanations.
The easiest one will be fulfilling the side quest. Managing to recruit children...
—That will be fascinating —he murmured with irony—: rising again from nothing, with nothing to help you, but with the certainty that you will find people who will stand by you along the way.
—And as for me... first the body, then the mind, and finally, the world —he whispered, leaning against a tree for support while his new body still faltered.
A smile formed on his face. He didn't know exactly which world he had been reborn into, but it didn't matter. With his knowledge and the powers he would regain, he felt capable of winning... even without yet knowing all the names that moved this board.
...
— Narrator's POV —
Giotto —or Luciano, as his most recent memory dictated— walked clumsily along the riverbank. His small feet sank into the mud, for his brain had not yet grown accustomed to coordinating this body. In the distance, smoke from chimneys marked the location of a village.
—Oh! They left me near civilization —he said with sarcasm.
As he made his way through thickets that smelled of damp earth and livestock, he observed the structures of the settlement: thatched roofs and wooden walls that evoked the Yayoi and Kofun eras, the most primitive in Japanese history. For a man who had admired the architecture of Edo Japan and the elegance of the 19th century, this was another world. However, his knowledge indicated that he was, at the very least, three hundred years before Christ, and at most, five hundred years after.
—I must hide —he murmured. His voice was a high-pitched, childish whisper—. It doesn't matter what era it is; wandering naked through the forest is a disgrace. To be dressed is to be an inhabitant.
With the stealth of a veteran gangster, he approached a dwelling on the outskirts. A garment made of coarse cloth was drying in the sun. He took it with precise movements and slipped away into the undergrowth. After walking a short distance, he found what he was looking for: an abandoned hut, half-ruined and covered by vegetation. It was the perfect refuge to begin settling in.
Suddenly, the crunch of dry leaves betrayed the presence of others. Three figures appeared in the clearing.
And there he found them: a group of ragged, wounded, and abandoned children. The eldest had his leg bandaged with a dirty rag and freckles on his face. The girl, with short hair and deep eyes, her face covered in mud and bruises, watched him while hugging a smaller boy who was trembling. The little one retreated by instinct, staying behind the girl in search of shelter.
The eldest, a boy of about Seven named Daiki, stepped forward with a scowl. Beside him, a girl with a curious gaze and a little one of barely three years old watched him in awe.
—Hey, you! —Daiki exclaimed, pointing at Giotto—. This is our place. We don't want strangers here. Get lost before I kick you out!
Giotto did not back down. He crossed his arms, maintaining a calm improper for a five-year-old. His eyes, golden and deep, analyzed Daiki not as a threat, but as a resource.
—I haven't come to harm you —he said, slowly raising a hand.
Then, as if just realizing something, he added in a light tone:
—Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't know anyone lived here. Forgive me, I'll leave then.
And with that, he turned to depart.
—Don't go... —the girl intervened, taking a step forward—. You're alone, right? Are you lost? My name is Sana. The grumpy one is Daiki, and the little one is named Haru.
Giotto traced a smile. Innocent in appearance, yet sufficient for the Vongola boss dwelling within. Luciano's experience told him these children hid untapped talents.
—I'm not lost, Sana —Giotto replied. His tone was serene, almost aristocratic—. I am looking for companions to help me form a group... and to change the world.
Daiki let out a mocking laugh, not quite knowing what those words meant. But inside, Sana felt a strange shiver, like a seed of curiosity that had just fallen onto fertile soil. And little Haru noticed, without being able to explain it, that this new boy spoke like an adult. He found it fascinating.
—And what can a shrimp like you do? Your toys? —Daiki raised his chin and spoke with pretension—. We don't need your help.
Giotto sighed.
—It's not help. I am only looking for allies —he stated, taking a step toward them—. Perhaps destiny brought me here to offer you an opportunity. I seek those who want to stop being simple villagers and become the masters of the underworld. We will be the darkness that brings order to crime, the bosses this era needs to contain and educate evil.
Silence fell over the clearing. Daiki went mute, his laughter frozen on his face. Words like "empire," "underworld," and "order" were concepts a child of that age should not know. The authority emanating from Giotto was real, almost tangible.
Little Sana, far from being frightened, felt a spark ignite in her chest. There was something in that boy's confidence that drew her in with a force she could not explain. She approached him, ignoring Daiki's warning look.
—An empire? —Haru asked, his eyes shining—. Sounds like something important... something that will get us out of this boring village.
Sana looked at her companions and then fixed her gaze back on Giotto. With a determination that surprised even Daiki, she extended her hand toward him.
—If you are going to build that group... I want to be in it —she said with a firm voice—. I want to be part of this, Giotto.
Giotto observed the girl's extended hand and then looked at the other two. The first piece on the board had moved on its own.
[System: Side Quest Progress — 1/3. Recruitment initiated.]
—Welcome —Giotto said, shaking her small hand—. Sana, you have just made the decision that will change your destiny.
Sana held her hand steady, with a determination that defied her young age. Her eyes reflected curiosity and the spark of something that did not yet have a name.
Giotto let his gaze sweep over Sana, then Haru, and finally Daiki. In the latter, he saw not a threat, but a raw resource: not just a good boy, but a potential that had to be molded.
He then traced the smile that his mind—burdened with the sins of a past life—recognized as hypocritical, but which his noble Vongola Primo heart felt as a genuine relief. He was about to shake her hand when a small figure burst into the conversation.
Little Haru, barely three years old, had remained silent until that moment, watching with wide eyes. Suddenly, he leaped forward, waving his little arms.
—Me too! —he exclaimed with pure, childish enthusiasm—. Haru wants to too! I want to, I want to!
Giotto looked at the little one with a mix of surprise and tenderness. Even at three years old, the spirit of the Vongola family seemed to want to manifest itself. Sana laughed softly, caught up in Haru's energy.
However, the atmosphere grew tense when everyone turned toward Daiki. The older boy had gone mute, his mocking laughter frozen on his face. The words Giotto had spoken—"empire," "underworld," "order"—were concepts a child of his age should not know. The authority emanating from that stranger was real, almost tangible, and it terrified and fascinated him in equal measure.
But seeing Sana and little Haru accept this stranger immediately made his blood boil.
—No, no, no! —Daiki shouted, taking a step back—. You're crazy! He's just a weird kid! We can't trust him!
A freckled boy watched him cautiously, and a silent thought echoed in his mind:
Why is this guy helping? No one gives anything without wanting something in return...
Another, the oldest of the group, with a hard gaze and a stick in his hand, asked with a harsh voice:
—Why are you doing this?
Then he turned toward Sana with a pleading look.
—Sana, please... we don't know who he is. And you —he pointed at Giotto—, don't you dare touch my companions!
But Sana did not withdraw her hand. She looked at Daiki with a mixture of sadness and firmness.
—Daiki, he is offering us something different. Something better than staying here forever.
Giotto, observing the scene in silence, understood that the strongest link in that small chain was Daiki. His reluctance was not born of fear, but of a deep sense of responsibility toward his companions.
—Daiki —Giotto said, with his usual serene and almost aristocratic voice—. I do not seek to harm Sana or Haru. I seek companions to protect what matters. And what matters most to you are the two of them, right?
Daiki clenched his fists, his eyes shining with contained rage.
But Sana did not withdraw her hand. She looked at Daiki with a mixture of sadness and firmness.
—Daiki, he is offering us something different. Something better than staying here forever.
Giotto, observing the scene, understood that the strongest link in that small chain was Daiki. His resistance was not born of fear, but of a deep sense of responsibility toward his "companions."
—Daiki —Giotto said, with a serene, almost aristocratic voice—. I do not seek to harm Sana or Haru. I seek companions to protect what is important. And what matters most to you… are little Haru and Sana, isn't it?
Daiki clenched his fists; his eyes shimmered with contained rage.
—If you do not join me —Giotto continued, his tone turning darker—, who will protect them from the true darkness of this world? You alone, with empty hands?
—Join me and you shall be strong with me —he added—. I need someone with your mindset, someone who protects the weakest.
The words fell upon Daiki like a whip's lash. He lowered his gaze to his hands: empty, unmarked, lacking the strength Giotto had already pointed out. He was the eldest, the one responsible… but also just a child who lacked power.
He looked at Haru, clinging to Sana's waist, watching him with hope. Then he looked at Sana, who still held Giotto's hand. The weight of the decision, the possibility of being left behind, of leaving them alone with a stranger… it all crashed down upon him.
He let out a long, defeated sigh, his shoulders slumped.
—Fine… —he murmured, almost inaudible—. I'll do it. But it's not because I believe in your "empire." It's because I have to look out for Haru and Sana. If anything happens to them because of you… I will handle it personally.
Giotto held his gaze. In his eyes, there was an understanding that Daiki could not decipher. The veteran mafioso recognized the loyalty being born in that very instant.
—Understood, Daiki. Your protection will be fundamental to this group.
Finally, Giotto accepted Sana's hand, sealing the agreement. Then he turned toward little Haru, who was still jumping with energy.
—You too, Haru. You are small, but your spirit is grand. I am certain you will be a great warrior.
Haru blushed, repeating the word warrior in his mind.
—Good. This shall be the beginning of the Vongola. Our base will start here. We will train body and mind… prepare yourselves.
[System: Quest Notification]
A semi-transparent interface appeared before Giotto, invisible to the others.
[System: Side Quest Completed — "The Beginning of an Empire"]
[Status: Success]
[Rewards Granted:]
[Sky Flame]: Unlocked and latent. (The essence of the Sky has recognized the pure will of the wielder. Requires development).
[Vongola Hyper Intuition]: Unlocked and active. (Passive ability that allows the perception of intent, danger, and fluctuations in the environment).
[System: Side Quest Completed — "The Beginning of an Empire"]
[Status: Success]
[Rewards Granted:]
[Sky Flame]: Unlocked and latent. (The essence of the Sky has recognized the pure will of the wielder. Requires development).
[Vongola Hyper Intuition]: Unlocked and active. (Passive ability that allows the perception of danger, lies, and body movements).
[System: Template Progress Updated]
[Template: Vongola Primo]: Synchronization progress has increased by 1%.
[Main Quest: "Rebirth of the Will"]
[Objective]: Lay the foundations of the underworld. Recruit agents, secure a secret base, and establish your rules.
Progress: 1%
Giotto smiled as he felt the Sky Flame flow once more within him. His next step was clear: train with caution and guide these children. This world would learn the meaning of Vongola.
The following days were harsh, yet revealing.
Sana felt a deep curiosity regarding Giotto's past. It was hard for her to understand how someone so small could know so much.
—Sana, I am not a demon disguised as a child. I already told you —Giotto replied with a sigh, as he taught her how to prepare medicinal herbs—. I simply learned from someone others could follow… and who possessed vast knowledge.
Before becoming an orphan, Sana had lived in a temple under the care of a priestess, which was why she knew numerous stories about demons and legends. To her, Giotto's knowledge bordered on the supernatural.
She also took charge of organizing the beds and daily chores, as well as storing food. Giotto noticed her talent: she learned medicine with surprising speed; she could become a great healer.
Giotto moved with the precision of a clock under the grayish mantle of dawn. His mission was solitary and titanic: forging the foundations of the temple before the sun claimed the sky. However, that morning, he was not alone.
From behind some thickets, a small figure observed him. Haru, barely three years old and with fear still fresh in his gaze, had followed him in silence. He sat upon a cold stone, shrinking his tiny body until his knees touched his chin. His arms wrapped around his legs as if he wanted to hold himself together; in his little head lived only one fear: that Giotto would vanish among the trees and leave them behind, just as the world had done before.
The boy did not blink. He watched the shimmer of sweat on the man's back and listened to his heavy, rhythmic breathing, like the heartbeat of the earth.
When he saw Giotto push an immense log, the effort seemed to him like a kind of magic. Haru stood up, forgetting his hiding place.
—I... I want to do that —he blurted out in a brave whisper.
Giotto was not surprised; his senses had detected the child's presence long before. He finished his last set of exercises, straightened up, and exhaled a cloud of vapor into the frigid winter air. He looked at the little one out of the corner of his eye.
—Do what, little one?
—That —Haru pointed with a trembling finger, but his eyes shone with a determination improper for his age—. I want to be big. I don't want to be all alone.
Haru looked down at his small hands. In his childish logic, being weak meant disappearing, and he had already lost too much.
—Mommy and Daddy were... small. And they went away —he confessed, using the simple words a three-year-old has to describe tragedy—. I don't want to be small, Giotto.
The man stood still. That truth, which neither Sana nor Daiki knew, hung heavy in the air of the clearing. Giotto saw in the boy not just a street orphan, but a soul searching for an anchor. He took a couple of steps toward him and lowered himself to his level.
—No one starts out big, Haru —he said with a soft but firm voice—. But to grow, you must put in the effort. Place your hands on the ground, like this.
Giotto showed him how to plant his palms.
—Lower your body and push yourself back up. Do it until your arms grow tired. And when you finish, tell me the truth about how many you did. Warriors do not lie.
—And what if my arms don't want to go up? —Haru asked with total innocence.
—If they don't go up today, tomorrow we will try again. That is what matters.
Giotto returned to his work, but kept an eye on the little one, who was now struggling against the ground with a touching seriousness. Hours later, when the winter sun began to warm the forest, Sana and Daiki appeared along the path.
—What are you doing on the ground, Haru? —Sana asked, tilting her head with curiosity.
Haru, with a red face and messy hair, let out a grunt as he attempted to push his chest off the ground once more.
—Training —he panted, although he could barely move a few inches.
—For what? —the girl insisted.
The little one paused for a second, looked at his friends, and then at his mentor's back.
—To take care of you —he replied with the purity of someone who knows no limit to their strength—. Of you, of Daiki... and of Giotto too.
Sana watched Giotto from a distance, with a mixture of admiration and bewilderment. At times, she felt that the lessons from that boy were not those a normal child should follow; there was something in him she couldn't express in words, an ancient and icy maturity. Giotto didn't just teach them to survive; he spoke to them of the secrets of the human body like a doctor and instructed them in mathematics so they would learn to master numbers. She felt fortunate, but a silent pressure grew in her chest: the need to live up to his expectations.
Nearby, little Haru trained with wooden sticks. He repeated basic movements, almost clumsy due to his young age, under Giotto's watchful eye. The little one was an enigma: cheerful and sweet, yet at the same time silent and focused, like a small ember of contained fire that refused to go out.
Daiki, for his part, was a whirlwind of frustration. Seeing Haru's initiative, his pride was ignited, and he threw himself into training with fierce determination. Giotto, who read his rage like an open book, was not bothered; instead, he instructed him in hand-to-hand combat. He used that very frustration as fuel, teaching him to direct his fists with purpose, though Daiki was still far from managing to land a single blow against him.
Despite the rigor of the studies and the physical exhaustion, a new sensation blossomed within the three children: happiness.
That night, they gathered around a small campfire. The crackling of the wood was the only sound breaking the calm of the forest. Giotto handed out the result of his culinary effort: pieces of hard bread, of the humblest quality imaginable due to the lack of utensils, accompanied by a hot soup. To the innocent palates of the children, it was a delicacy fit for kings.
No one spoke for several minutes. The silence was only interrupted by the fire, until Daiki swallowed a piece of meat with effort and dared to break the ice:
—Were you always this... strong? —he asked, his voice still heavy with curiosity.
Giotto swallowed slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on the dancing flames.
—No —he replied in a whisper—. I learned to be. Once it was out of necessity... and the other was for revenge.
He spoke of his past lives, of shadows that the children could not see.
—Who taught you? —Daiki insisted.
—The first time, I learned on my own —Giotto made a long pause before continuing—. The second time was thanks to my grandfather. Although, if I remember correctly, much earlier there was a baby who taught me how to fight. He always wore an orange pacifier.
The children listened intently, but were left perplexed hearing about a "baby teacher" and an object called a "pacifier." They didn't ask. They had already grown accustomed to Giotto saying things that escaped their logic; if he didn't explain it, they knew there was no point in insisting.
Then, Haru looked up, moved by that pure curiosity that only the very young possess.
—Boss... —he called him. For days now, that had become his name for him—. Do you have a family?
Daiki and Sana stopped their spoons in mid-air, holding their breath. To them, Giotto's private life was an impenetrable wall, especially for Sana, whose curiosity was always alert. However, Haru was Giotto's weakness; the man could rarely deny anything to that child who looked at him with such devotion.
Giotto stared into the fire. In the amber of the embers, he saw the ghosts of his two lives: the Silenziatore and the Primo. He remembered the faces of those he loved who were no longer there. Everyone he cared about had died in his previous lives; now, he only had his students, his successors... and these three children who looked at him waiting for an answer.
—I had one —he said finally, with a sadness that seemed to weigh more than the mountains—. Now... I only have you.
...
—In this moment, I have no one left to call family —Giotto replied, his gaze lost in the dying embers—. Destiny took it upon itself to leave me alone.
For an instant, the silence weighed heavier than the night. However, a thought crossed his mind like a lightning bolt: the main quest, "Rebirth of the Will." He remembered the promise that his guardians could be summoned, and a spark of hope, brighter than the fire before them, lit up his gaze.
—Though… perhaps destiny holds one last card for me —he whispered to himself, with a barely perceptible smile—. Perhaps, after all, they will return.
Haru watched him with wide eyes, trying to process those words laden with mystery.
—Will you leave with them? —the little one asked. His voice was barely a thread, laden with the fear of one who has seen too many people depart forever. The fear of abandonment was palpable in the air, almost as much as the smoke from the firewood.
Giotto looked at him intently. There was no doubt in his eyes, only an absolute serenity that seemed to calm even the crackling of the fire.
—No, little Haru. On the contrary: they will come to me —he replied with a contagious and relaxed smile—. This is my new home, and you are my family now. I wouldn't have a better place to go, because I am already where I ought to be.
Giotto paused, letting his words settle in the chests of the little ones, before adding softly:
—I only ask that, when they return, you welcome them with open arms. Because this family is only going to grow. Prepare yourselves, because in the future, you must lead.
The children said nothing, but the atmosphere changed instantly. The glint in their eyes was no longer the spark of doubt, but the warmth of belonging. Their shoulders relaxed and small smiles began to appear; Daiki's fury and Haru's fear dissolved into the night. Giotto was not only swearing loyalty to them, but promising them a future where loneliness would be a memory. They were safe. They were home.
...
Giotto would wake up before the first ray of sun dared to tear through the horizon of that ancient era. Always before dawn. Always before the others.
He rose in a deathly silence, shaking the dust from his bed with a slowness that was almost ritualistic. The frigid morning air hit his face, reminding him that, although he inhabited a childish body, his will remained that of a giant. He stepped outside, where the frost crunched beneath his bare feet.
Before his eyes, a translucent interface materialized:
[Daily Quest: Forging the Temple]
Objective: Train your body for at least 3 hours a day.
Rewards:
+0.1% Flame Synchronization.
Increased physical endurance.
Progress in passive skill: "Iron Body".
With the quest active, the training began. It was a personal war against the fragility of his new vessel. He performed push-ups until his arms trembled like reeds under a storm; squats that made his thighs burn with an invisible fire; runs over the frozen ground that numbed his toes until they lost all feeling. He lifted logs and stones, feeling every gram of weight as an insult to his former glory.
Each time his lungs burned and cold sweat ran down his back, a notification flickered in his peripheral vision:
[Flame Synchronization Progress: +0.01%]
Upon finishing, with his breath coming in short gasps and steam escaping from his lips, Giotto stood tall before the rising sun.
—This will be hard to finish —he muttered to himself, wiping away the sweat—. The trick is not to falter for a single day.
...
Daiki, Haru, and Sana woke up shortly after, still dragging the heaviness of sleep in their small bodies. The morning cold seeped through the cracks, reminding them that comfort was a luxury they did not yet possess.
—Why does he train so much? And why does he force us to do the same? —Daiki whispered, barely stepping out of the improvised hut with his shoulders slumped.
Sana, who was already folding the blankets with precise movements despite her sleepy eyes, replied without being distracted from her task:
—Perhaps he wants to be strong enough to protect us —she paused, looking toward the clearing where Giotto was already a moving shadow—. To protect us and prepare us for what it means to be a leader.
But Daiki, crossing his arms and scowling, snorted with annoyance:
—Yesterday he spoke of other people who will come one day to stay. I don't want to welcome more strangers or follow their orders. In my opinion, we're fine like this, just us...
Haru and Sana immediately looked at him with such evident disapproval that the boy took a step back. Both shook their heads in unison, as if sharing a single thought.
—Don't even say that as a joke —Sana snapped back, with a firmness that surprised Daiki—. When will you stop being so selfish? Thanks to Giotto, we are a thousand times better off than we were six months ago. If it makes him happy to bring his family, we must support him. Remember what he promised: they will need us, we will be leaders, and we will grow together. So stop complaining and get to training; yesterday I saw you finished early.
Daiki lowered his gaze, feeling the heat of shame creep up his neck. He nodded in silence, accepting defeat, and stepped out into the cold to begin his morning run.
—A reminder! —Sana shouted at him from the entrance—. Try not to break another rib! Fight better today; use your head.
Daiki nearly tripped upon hearing her, quickening his pace to hide his frustration.
Giotto, whose senses were sharpened by training and discipline, heard every word of the argument from a distance. He did not intervene. He knew that internal conflicts were part of the growth of any family—or mafia family. He continued punching the air, ignoring the stinging in his knuckles, until a bluish light flickered before his eyes.
[System Notification]
[New Main Quest Unlocked]
Title: Seed of the Underworld.
Objective: Establish a clear hierarchy, assign responsibilities, and create internal rules for the group.
Requirements:
Raise the base level (infrastructure).
Interact with and integrate a total of at least 5 children.
Reward: Legacy Fragment: "First Storm Guardian."
Giotto threw a final punch, a sharp impact that cut through the wind with surprising force for his size. He stopped dead, observing the system announcement with a mixture of nostalgia and determination. A melancholy smile curved his lips.
—My friend... —he whispered to himself, looking toward the horizon where the sun was beginning to tint the clouds crimson—. Soon we will see each other again. Just wait a little longer.
To be continued...
Until the next chapter!