Hiroshima, 1895

Japan's gaze wandered among the men in the room. His best scientists, the brightest minds from his house, and also his conquests China, Korea, Taiwan and Hong Kong. He could not question their competence. Their merits and honors had brought him to his service, a honor very, very few could aspire to. With their assistance, he was sure to acquire the definitive weapon.

Not opening his mouth, because, as they say, a word to the wise is sufficient, he left the dossier on the table, in the middle of the room, for everyone to see.

'Manhattan Project'.

Britanny, 1054

Italy! Italy! entirely and universally Fascist! The Italy of the black shirt revolution, rise to your feet, let the cry of your determination rise to the skies and reach our soldiers in East Africa. Let it be a comfort to those who are about to fight. Let it be an encouragement to our friends and a warning to our enemies. It is the cry of Italy which goes beyond the mountains and the seas out into the great world. It is the cry of justice and of victory.

Italy remembered that day as if it happened the day before. It wasn't so far, actually; just six years before, with the occasion of the invasion of Ethiopia. Mussolini had confidence in him, his enthusiasm about a better future had been so contagious, he really believed it. He joined Germany in that war he didn't really believe in...

He couldn't say he hadn't hesitated many times. He had the feeling sometimes that he was making a mistake, that he was collaborating in some ugly things, understood Romano's reluctance...But...All his doubts would disappear whenever his thoughts turned to his grandfather...

His legacy was too great to let others ruin it, including themselves, his own grandchildren.

Knowing what future had in store for him, his upcoming embarrassing defeat, the empire he had dreamed of disappearing, his leader and even his king too, it all had left a very unsettling feeling inside of his chest. He would fail so many people. Mussolini. Germany. Japan. Grandpa Rome. Himself.

He also couldn't help feeling he had let Germany down for not being able to stop him before he annulled his own existence. Now he was gone. France, England, America were gone. There was no war. His pain should have ended but...

The game still continued, he guessed. Just with different players. As long as there was life, there would be war. It was a game one just couldn't get out of.

He had no choice but to play.

Italy stood up and breathed deep, ignoring the sand being carried away by the wind, the blood soaking the earth.

Japan and Germany were right. The sands of time gave him a good chance to cheat, but he liked to think he had honor. He would follow the rules. He would use the sands just once...

Vienna, 625

The door of the bedroom opened and closed so quietly it didn't wake the sleeping boy up. The shadow walked towards the bed glancing around him, observing the little details in the room which talked about the child which occupied it: the maid uniform on a chair, the paper and charcoal on one side, drawings and small doodles here and there. All of them made the intruder smile, as well as the expression the boy had in his sleep.

He was still very small, didn't seem older than eight, even though he was several hundred years old by that time. Looking at him closely, it wasn't surprising some had taken him for a girl. He looked like a little cherub artists painted in the walls of churches. His funny curl moved with each breath he took.

As soon as the intruder sat by his side, on the bed, the child opened his eyes. He whined, seeing his face in the moonlight, and shrunk among the sheets.

"Who are you?" He whispered.

"...Don't worry. I don't mean to hurt you. I am an angel." The voice of that person seemed kind. He spoke to him in Latin, the sacred language. The expression of his face was serene. In his ginger hair Chibitalia found a curl very similar to his.

That made the boy lose part of his concern.

"Un angelo?" He timidly repeated.

The angel smiled. "Yes. I come from Heaven. I know everything. Past, present and future. You are a servant now, alone in the world, but God wants you to know one day you will be free and surrounded by friends."

"Really?" Chibitalia left the protection of the sheets of his bed and looked at the apparition with great interest. "I hope that happens soon...Austria is good to me but...I don't like having to clean all day...I want to go back home..."

"It will happen the day you decide to stand against him."

"But Austria...Austria owns me...I was given to him the day Grandpa...He is...He is much bigger than I..."

"He may seem strong, but your own strength will come the day you realize he is not that big and powerful. No one really is."

"I don't think I want to fight Austria...He can be nice sometimes...And I hate war...War is ugly and sad...Grandpa Rome suffered so much because of it..."

"...I know it is..." It seemed to Chibitalia that the amber eyes of the angel reflected a certain kind of sadness. A sadness he supposed angels felt, watching from above the woes and mistakes of poor living creatures. "But you've got no choice. It is the will of God that creatures like you fight all your lives; the way to Heaven is the Cross. You have to think of what they did to your grandpa, the pain others caused him. Remember the scars, Italy. He made mistakes you can learn from...I have come down to Earth to tell you...You have to be wise, bambino. You are Rome's heir. You are rich, keep lots of treasures inside of you, some greater than gold. You will have many enemies. They will hurt and end your friends. Some of them will be people you thought were your friends. They will use you, the affection you feel for them. You can't be a lamb among wolves. You don't want to be eaten alive, do you?"

"No..."

"They think you have no brain, and will underestimate you all your life...Use that in your favor. They will talk among themselves and show their weakness in front of you because they will think you are too insignificant to be a threat—pretend you are, and open your eyes and listen closely. Be sly as a serpent, look as simple as a dove. Let them think they can control you, and control them. I know you can do it. You have all it takes to become big like grandpa. You had it inside of you since the moment you were born."

"...Yes...I'll try..."

The angel smiled and caressed his hair. Then, he stood up and walked towards the door.

"Where are you going, angel?" Chibitalia asked, standing up in bed.

"I must go now."

"Back to heaven?"

"Yes...Whenever you feel afraid...think of Rome. He's watching you from up there."

He had barely uttered those words when a cloud of dust, wrapped around him, and before Chibitalia could move or say a thing, it dissolved, the angel disappearing with him.

The little child walked to the window to watch a night sky without stars for a second, before going back to his bed. He couldn't get any more sleep that night.