The world around Leonardo begins to distort, as if he's being propelled at immense speed toward an alternate location.
The surroundings seem to halt only for them to drift away from him, leaving him stationary. Planets and stars of colossal proportions pass by him, as if he is a specter, the entire galaxy—no, the entire universe—forsaking him. He feels a strange sensation, as though he is slipping through the fabric of reality itself. In the current state of time, before he eventually leaves it, Leonardo is alone.
He tries to open his amber eyes, which shine like stars in the place of complete darkness. He struggles as everything leaves him. From the void, a white light begins to emerge, chasing away the darkness with absolute brilliance.
A white crystalline structure manifests, its edges sharp and gleaming.
Figures of monumental stature, seemingly carved from the same brilliant crystal, stretch infinitely from the light. "Is this what they call heaven? I can't go without Ronald..." Leonardo muses, struggling to fully open his eyes as the grandiose structure looms ever closer. The museum, a place where reality converges with imagination.
He lands body-first on its surface. "The Gate?" he wonders, feeling the cold, smooth texture of the crystal beneath him. The formerly white, majestic structure begins to transform, influenced by the depths of Leonardo's mind.
First, the seemingly perfect building shatters, the pieces dissolving into nothingness. In their place, trees of incredible stature rise from the ground, their canopies stretching high into the sky.
Verdant grass sprouts on the floors, its lush green a stark contrast to the cold crystal.
The ceiling transforms into an azure sky that stretches endlessly, dotted with fluffy white clouds and bathed in the golden glow of the sun.
Mountains of great heights rise in the landscape, their peaks capped with snow that glistens in the sunlight. Dragons soar through the sky like birds, their majestic forms casting shadows on the ground below.
This is how Leonardo envisions the world—a realm where everything is at the peak of adventure, a world where he can embark on an adventure.
He lies there, reluctant to stand, savoring the breeze of this new world upon his skin, the feel of this unstepped grass beneath his fingertips.
The scent of flowers and fresh earth fills the air, and the distant sound of a flowing river reaches his ears.
Finally, he opens his eyes to see the world has vanished, leaving him in an empty white hall that seems to go on forever, with paintings at every possible corner.
Struggling to stand, though he does, he walks aimlessly, his footsteps echoing in the vast emptiness. The space where his feet touch changes to grass with each step he takes, leaving a trail of greenery behind him.
Step, step, the clambering of numerous footsteps, people are coming. "Those aren't-" he's cut short as he vomits behind a podium, trying to gain his balance. "Ronald..." That should be normal, for he traveled to an unknown location at high speeds. The steps are getting closer, and speech is getting louder.
"Leonardo was a charismatic man, for he experienced what the people went through," the tour guide says to the tourists. He freezes, sweat trickling down his face. "Was that me?" he muses, confusion and fear evident. The hall, though straight, has many stops where podiums lie with stories to be explained. He hides behind a podium depicting a fiery dragon.
"That's really cool, but not right now." He bends down, the dragon posing as if chasing someone, its wings hung low for speed, thinks Leonardo. Though incredibly detailed, the scales look almost as if feeling the real thing. Then he thinks, "Have I ever felt the real thing?" Then stops there, almost here. He doesn't know why he's hiding, but it's probably the best course of action.
The dragon, being incredibly tall, around 11 feet by human standards, provided enough room for Leonardo to hide in. His outfit, though tattered, is still holding on, his mask the only thing unquestionably okay. He removes his shoes that seemed to attach to his trousers, taking a second to breathe. The tour guide is not as far off as before.
"Leonardo, the hero in a world of a thousand heroes," he says, clasping his arms together. "Well, that's that. if you'd like to know how the story progresses that will be for another time. Any questions?" Another from the crowd raises a hand to ask, "His story looks sad," bawling as they speak.
"I suppose it is, maybe not, but one thing he always said is 'I carved my crown from the bones of kings; I am not a man--they kneel because I am inevitable,' and another that goes like, 'I didn't just take the throne, I am the throne. Without me, they are nothing.'" He laughs while talking.
"Isn't that narcissistic? I mean, calling yourself a throne is a bit of a stretch," one chimes in.
"Maybe it is, but if you lived his life, maybe you'd have a different view of things," he says, removing his gloves.
Pointing to the dragon where Leonardo lay, "How about we talk about the legendary crimson dragon, the duke of fire, Seraphim, a majestic six-winged beast?" At the mere utterance of the dragon, Leonardo's heart drops, his muscles twitching. He then realizes why he was hiding.
These aren't ordinary people. Through his gas mask, his amber eyes lose their light, breathing becomes hard as he thinks of it.
"Sir, could we please talk about Charles and the seven God swords?" one says excitedly. "Well, alright," the tour guide says, his smile turning into a frown.
They begin walking to another exhibit, each step losing sound, and with each step, Leonardo gains a breath.
The exhibit, though a bit far, is still visible, a cloaked man oozing something similar to Agnites' radiation. He begins walking, soaking in the marvelous architecture.
"I wonder who did this," he wonders, for everything is perfectly crafted, from the highest columns to the steps to the podium, even the air feels crafted. He continues walking, feeling multiple podiums as he walks. Amazing stories either told or yet to be, noticeable names were:
[The Emperor of High View Mountain] [The Slave of the World's View] And one that caught his eye: [Leonardo the chains of Moerlan] The podium has an intricate painting of the man smiling proudly with his mighty sword at the side. A life-sized version was also shown.
"This-this is me?" It looks nothing similar as of right now, for Leonardo is nothing more than a shriveled rat in a mine, outfit dirty and everything, but the figure here looks like the one he dreams of, a mighty man capable of ruling a nation.
"Hello there," a voice says, still ringing with an ambiance. Leonardo pauses, his hand at the figure of himself, his heartbeat increasing.
"It's the man from earlier," Leonardo thought.
"It seems we have an [uninvited guest]," smiling as he speaks.
As soon as the words were uttered, a label appeared on top of Leonardo: [Identification: Uninvited Guest] "Oh, I didn't mean that," the man, known as the tour guide from earlier, says, getting closer.
"Where are you from, young man?" he asks. "Few enter this realm without purpose. What is it you seek? Power? I'm joking, you want a free era explanation, do you?" The tour guide comes closer, eye to eye.
"You don't seem strong. You have a stage 2 skill
[in this world everyone is born with skills befitting the story they're in "hero" is a common skill given to the characters in a story, though unseeable unless in the museum of narratives, they play a huge part in the development of the story.]
Leonardo's skill set:
Name: Leonardo.
Age: 16
Story skill: [miner]
Title: [Uninvited Guest].
Leonardo pauses for a minute. "Story what-" "You don't even have an attached skill... where are you even from? I mean, you do have one, but what is 'positive thinking' going to do?" The tour guide looks at Leonardo in pure disgust, holding Leonardo by the neck, wanting to end it here. "Wait, there might be use for you,"
"I'm so- sorry, I'll leave," Leonardo says, trying to gain his breath through minor gasps.
"Leave where? I mean, I can't kill you even if I wanted to."
"You're going to enter 'the Deplorable Era.' Yes, it's been quite a hassle to handle.
I even wonder who are the main cast, ah you'll figure that out, the meanest should be it." He drops Leonardo and begins talking to himself, pulling his glove to touch the temple of his head.
The hallway seems to shift and change, blending into something entirely new. A turn appears, leading to a room—a spacious office with the indicator [Head, Tour Guide Milah].
The office is expansive, with a mini library at the back, a large desk in front of it and a chair behind it, by the side a couch with a lamp beside it.
The tour guide gestures for Leonardo to sit in the chair opposite his desk. Leonardo obliges, eyeing the room as he sits.
The shelves are lined with books of various sizes, their spines glistening with gold lettering. The air is filled with the scent of aged paper and polished wood.
"You're from the New Kingdom Era, [Uninvited Guest]. What are you doing here, Leonardo?" the tour guide said in a military-like tone. "I was just discussing you. It can't be mere coincidence."
"Mil-" Leonardo stammers, the words dropping from his mouth.
"You are from a place below the Museum," he says then continues, "I want you to go to the Deplorable Era, to merely fix a bit of stuff," the tour guide says, his tone absolute.
"The Deplorable Era? What is that?" Leonardo asks, confusion evident.
The tour guide leans back in his chair, fingers steepled. "The Deplorable Era is a time of unavoidable conflict.
The stories there can hardly be called stories—they're plotless and chaotic, with an eerie atmosphere that feels apocalyptic. It's a hassle to manage, so I want you to go there and… fix things. The main cast."
Leonardo's eyes widen. "What? Mister!" he starts, but the tour guide cuts him off.
"Tour guide."
"Okay, Tour Guide Sir, this is a whole misunderstanding. I really don't know how I ended up here.
Some guy came up to me and gave me a stone, it was normal I swear, then I travelled. I don't even know, it was scary," Leonardo says.
"A stone?"
"Yes! He wore a white robe and was talking about me with some other gir-, ahem people, and me going to different places."
"Oh, he did this then," Tour Guide Milah says, resting his head on his palms.
"Who did? Sir?"
"Your biggest fan, I suppose? He was talking about it," he continues without stopping, Leonardo sensing familiarity between them.
"He'll get killed next time." was the final word. It rings around the entire room, making Leonardo sink into his chair.
Silence fills the room. The tour guide stares at Leonardo, his gaze intense. Suddenly, the room starts shaking, the walls vibrating with an unseen force. The light flickers, and Leonardo clutches the armrests of his chair.
The room eventually shatters into darkness. The void stares back at Leonardo, its inky blackness threatening to consume him. But then, the darkness morphs into a grassy hill with a peach tree at the center.
An umbrella and two chairs are also there, casting shadows in the soft sunlight.
"Let's make it official then," the tour guide says, his voice calm amidst the surreal transformation.
A sheet of paper forms out of the air, floating gently down into the tour guide's hand. He dons his gloves again, the white fabric contrasting sharply with the dark void. He signs the paper with a flourish and hands it over to Leonardo. "Sign it."
Leonardo hesitates, his hand trembling as he takes the paper. The document contains detailed information about the museum: "On this day and hour of the Pristine Museum time, Leonardo is officially a Tour Guide Practical Officer. In response to that, an attachment skill will be randomly given to fit new role. Owner of the Realm: ——— (blurred)."
Leonardo swallows hard, the pressure building inside him. He doesn't even look at the contract, only noticing a few lines, "No more improvements-" His heart races as he forces himself to sign the document. The ink glows briefly before settling into the paper.
"Well then, we need to change that outfit of yours. What do you want? Clothes? Weapons? Maybe a bath?" the tour guide asks, his tone more conversational now.
"What?" Leonardo responds, still in shock, maybe not shock but the fact someone wants to give him something without requesting another in return.
"Are you naturally slow?" the tour guide sighs. Suddenly, Leonardo's outfit morphs into something he always dreamed of wearing.
The outfit is a streamlined version of a traditional butler suit, tailored to fit Leonardo's short frame. The white long-sleeved shirt is crisp and well-fitted, offering a balance of formality and comfort.
Over it, the red vest is snug, with subtle detailing that hints at a youthful yet refined taste. It features a few discreet pockets, perhaps for carrying small items, and a reinforced area along the side where a sheath for the sword can be attached securely, making it practical for someone who needs both mobility and elegance.
The overall look is sophisticated but not too formal, making it ideal for a young individual who needs to blend style with function. [No coat, a white long-sleeved shirt beneath a red vest, matching his black pants]
"A sword?" Leonardo says, going to draw it. "I've always wanted to hold a sword..." he says, only to see it empty.
"It's empty-"
"It's empty... I can only give you a single thing, the cloth seemed like the best option. I'll be useful until it isn't."
"Until it isn't?"
"You weren't supposed to be here."
Tension fills the space.
Words appear in the sky in front of them: [Recalculating Attachment Skill and Story Skill]
The tour guide watches, his expression unreadable. Leonardo's heart pounds as the seconds stretch into minutes.
Twenty minutes later.
"Surprising."