Year 1049 B.N.
September 7th…
Giotto returned to the abandoned mansion accompanied by G, his newly summoned Guardian and childhood friend. Upon arrival, he introduced G to Haru, Sana, Daiki, Takeshi, and Reijiro, his companions and future Guardians. The atmosphere filled with surprise and uncertainty as this new member arrived alongside the leader. Although still a child, G had a mature and firm presence, very much like Giotto's.
"Who is this boy?" Daiki asked, curiously observing the red tattoo on G's right cheek.
Sana spoke up, "He was the one you had to find in today's storm, Giotto."
Giotto smiled and stepped forward to explain:
"This is G, my right hand. He will represent me when I cannot be present. His duty will be to convey my orders and protect the future of our organization."
The children exchanged confused glances, but Reijiro, the most mature of the group, spoke with a firm smile:
"So, Giotto, you say G will be in command when you're not? Does that mean he will be our leader?"
Giotto shook his head.
"Not exactly, Reijiro. You, Haru, Sana, Daiki, and Takeshi... will continue to be the direct administrators of the organization and the pillars of this family. For now, some missions will be sent to some of you. G will be a vital support, and soon five more Guardians will appear," he said solemnly. "They will also have important roles, and together they will form the true shield of the Vongola family. Understand? First comes me, then the Guardians, then you — the third level in the hierarchy."
The children nodded, understanding the weight and responsibility this entailed. The idea that the Vongola family would strengthen with more Guardians filled them with excitement and determination.
The next day, they all gathered in the mansion's courtyard at Giotto's request. He wanted to show them something special: a mysterious power like his own, the legendary Storm Flame.
The five children, along with G, remained silent, watching attentively. G concentrated deeply, as if searching inside himself. His hands began to emit a faint glow, and suddenly, a core of flame appeared between them.
"Look," Giotto said quietly. "That is the Storm Flame. But it's different, unique to G."
The core was a deep red, almost scarlet, surrounded by a pale pink hue, and its edges shone with a dark, vibrant light. To demonstrate its power, G threw one of the flames at a nearby tree. The impact was instant: the trunk crumbled into dark, cold dust, and the tree collapsed with a chilling crash.
"Wow!" Sana exclaimed, impressed. "That was incredible, G."
But G did not celebrate. Instead, he looked at his hands with a thoughtful, slightly frustrated expression. Giotto approached and put a hand on his shoulder.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly.
G sighed and answered:
"Cousin… I feel strange in this body. The Storm Flames come from my soul, but when they pass through my body, it doesn't absorb them properly. It's like I don't fit... just like in my previous life."
Giotto nodded understandingly.
"I felt something similar at the beginning. My body couldn't produce Sky Flames — not like now. That's why I knew I had to adapt and evolve. That's why I use the template system — to gradually unlock my powers and regain my true strength."
G frowned, trying to understand.
"Template system?"
"Yes," Giotto explained. "It's a mechanism that lets me obtain rewards, skills, and powers by completing missions and challenges. That's how we get stronger. You can use it too, G. You're not alone."
A spark of conviction shone in G's eyes.
"Then, cousin, I will fight to regain my strength and help you restore Vongola's glory — just like in our other world."
Giotto smiled and squeezed his arm.
"That's the spirit, brother. Together, nothing will stop us."
That night, while the mansion slept under a starry sky, Giotto and G sat by the fireplace. The flame danced and reflected on their faces, reminding them of the fire they carried inside.
"G," Giotto began, "do you remember when we were kids and ran through the forest without fear?"
"Of course," G replied with a nostalgic smile. "You were always the leader. I just wanted to follow you and protect you."
Giotto laughed softly.
"And you always protected me — even when I didn't understand the danger. I'll never forget when we faced that creature in the forest, side by side, without hesitation."
G nodded, his eyes shining.
"That was the first time I felt the power of the storm. It was as if nature itself called me to defend you."
"I felt the same with the flames," Giotto said. "Sometimes I believe our bond is stronger than any magic or power."
"It is," G replied. "We are family, beyond time and space. That's why I will fight with everything I have so the name Vongola shines again."
Their conversation lasted hours, full of laughter, memories, and promises. They knew the road ahead would be hard, but also that together, they could withstand any storm.
Several days later…
After securing control of the old mansion and summoning the Storm Guardian, Giotto began a new phase of his plan: to form the foundation of a powerful hidden organization, with a structure capable of defying time itself.
He was no longer just a child in a strange world. He was Giotto Luciano Vongola Gravina, the soul reborn from an Italian mafioso and a legendary leader. With G's support, he began to shape his new famiglia.
The first steps were silent. Using Luciano's cunning and Vongola Primo's diplomacy, Giotto began recruiting orphans from nearby villages. Abandoned children, lost in a cruel world, without direction, without family. He did not offer riches or absolute protection, but something much more valuable: a purpose.
"I won't promise you riches," Giotto said softly to a group of eight trembling children at the mansion's threshold, "but I promise you will never be alone again."
A dark-haired boy with a distrustful gaze raised his hand.
"Why should we trust you? You're just a child like us."
Giotto stepped forward. His eyes, deep like the night of the city he once ruled, ignited with a spark of Sky Flame. In a controlled but powerful gesture, he caused a small explosion nearby, shaking the ground and raising dust all around. It was not violence. It was a demonstration of power.
"Because I will shake the world to protect you," he answered firmly.
The children's eyes widened. That night, they decided to follow him.
Days passed, and more orphans joined. Some for food. Others for revenge. But all, without exception, ended up admiring the seven-year-old boy with the soul of an emperor. In every word, there was a vision. In every action, unwavering determination.
Training began almost immediately. G organized rotations. Takeshi taught fighting with improvised weapons, Haru offered reading and writing lessons in the mornings, while Reijiro, cruel but efficient, took care of surveillance, escape routes, and physical discipline.
Mornings started with cross-country runs through the dense forest around the mansion. Afternoons were devoted to tactical exercises, building shelters, traps, and maps. Nights… were the moment of the most important lessons: loyalty, intelligence, code, and family.
"Another lap, useless brats!" Reijiro shouted from the hill, with a sadistic smile.
"They are not useless… they are my future commanders!" Giotto shouted back from the stone balcony, arms crossed, eyes shining with pride.
Even the most skeptical couldn't deny there was something inspiring about Giotto. His very presence transmitted a strange certainty, as if everything, chaotic as it seemed, made sense when he spoke.
"How can someone so young… have that look in their eyes?" murmured Sana, a slender, shy-looking girl, one night as they watched Giotto from afar.
"Because he has lived many lives…" G replied softly, popping a makeshift honey lollipop into his mouth.
That night, after training with flames in the old throne room of the mansion, G and Giotto shared a break. The room was dim, lit only by the flickering fire of the Sky Flames in Giotto's hand.
The silence between them was comfortable. They were comrades, brothers, soldiers… and something more.
"Your Luciano side… it's sometimes scary," G confessed as he wiped sweat from his face and let his jacket drop.
Giotto stopped. He was breathing heavily, his training glove singed from use. Despite the fatigue, his eyes shone with fierce intensity.
"I know," he said, slowly raising his gaze toward his old friend. "But… if I had been like that before, the Mist Guardian wouldn't have betrayed us. And the Cloud Guardian… might have bowed his head."
G watched him silently. His eyebrows barely furrowed.
"You can't protect everything with fire, Giotto. Not even the Sky Flame. Sometimes you need shadows… and eyes."
"Shadows?"
"Spies. Surveillance. Intelligence. If we're going to build something that lasts, strength alone won't suffice. We need to know before the enemy acts."
Giotto nodded. He walked over to an old stone table he had turned into an improvised desk. On it lay hand-drawn maps, diagrams of escape tunnels, forest defense structures, and small sketches of symbols.
"I've been thinking the same thing," he said with a half-smile. "Gathering power without information is like fighting blindfolded."
"And more so if that power is children," G added.
"Exactly. I want them to learn to read, to write… but also to observe. To listen. To remember footsteps, gestures, words."
G let out a low chuckle.
"Are you training assassins… or scribes?"
"I'm training ghosts," Giotto whispered, his gaze sharp. "Enemies won't even know they were hit."
A reverent silence followed those words. G slowly approached and dropped a small leather pouch on the table. Opening it, he revealed old writing instruments, rudimentary but functional: sharp quills, pigment made from ash and resin, and small pieces of dry parchment.
"I brought these from a camp I dismantled weeks ago. Thought we could use them."
Giotto took one of the sheets. It was rough, coarse… but usable. He closed his eyes.
He remembered something. Not Giotto. Luciano.
"Words can kill… or save. My grandfather said letters kept the mafia united. And also that the greatest mistake any family makes is forgetting to write their story."
G smiled.
"Then we start tomorrow. Haru can teach them. Sana seems ready for more. Even that brat who didn't trust you is taking note of everything you do."
"Really?"
"Yes. I saw him last night, mimicking how you place your feet when you walk. He's not an idiot, just scared."
Giotto chuckled softly. Then, his expression changed.
"I want to divide them into three groups," he said. "The Fiamme Rosse, the Occhi Neri, and the Corvi."
"And those names?"
"The first will be field warriors. The Fiamme Rosse. Their symbol will be determination and swift action."
"And the Occhi Neri?"
"Surveillance. Observers. Infiltration. They shouldn't even know they exist. Their task is to report, not act. In the long run… they'll be my eyes in all nations."
G nodded, already imagining the scope.
"And the Corvi?"
"Those who can read and write. Those who accumulate all knowledge. A library of the organization. They won't fight… but they will protect the information. I'll use them to write codes, develop secret keys. Maybe even… history."
"Scribes and guardians of the legacy," G summarized.
"Exactly. Every great empire falls… because it forgets who it was."
Silence returned, but this time it was more solemn. In the heart of an old mansion, in a world he still didn't fully understand, two shadows swore to build something eternal.
"And how will you keep them united when the world starts looking at you?" G finally asked.
Giotto turned. His eyes were not those of a child.
"With loyalty. With fear, if necessary. But above all… with love. A love only a true Vongola can give."
The Sky Flame crackled between his fingers.
G laughed.
"Damn kid… you're crazy."
"Maybe," Giotto said. "But how many crazies have made history?"
G stared at him for a long moment. Finally, he raised his hand and gave a gentle punch on his shoulder.
"Let's go, Don. Tomorrow the real war begins."
And together they left down the hallway, where the footsteps of training children still echoed in the darkness. The mansion was not just a refuge. It was the beating heart of an organization that would change the course of history.
A new famiglia was being born.
And its leader… didn't plan to fail.
A few months passed.
The mansion had become a secret operational base. The orphans, trained day and night, were turning into squad captains. They were organized into cells by age, skill, and temperament.
—Children's loyalty is worth more than adults' submission, —Giotto said as he watched the training from a high terrace.
Takeshi smiled with admiration.
—Boss… you're building something legendary.
Meanwhile, the former bandits were used as shock troops and scouts. Giotto didn't trust them, but he knew how to make use of them.
He drafted secret manuals, honor codes, and even created a patrol calendar. The organization had a military structure… but a family's soul.
The next step…
Giotto implemented an escort system—protection for traveling merchants. In return, they paid with a special Vongola coin.
—A coin? —asked a skeptical-looking merchant.
—Yes, —Giotto replied with a smile. —Just one. But if you want it, you'll have to come to us.
At first confused, the merchants gradually adapted. Soon, the "Vongola coin" began to circulate. There were banks, mints, and secret records.
Sana, helping with accounting, explained:
—We don't just offer protection. We store their money, reduce their burdens. It's more efficient.
It was in that context that Silvio Maretti appeared—a middle-aged merchant with a shady past, a sharp tongue, and genuine loyalty. He became Giotto's main informant and external contact.
—Signor Vongola, there's a shipment of gems leaving the eastern region… unguarded —Silvio whispered on a rainy night.
—And who's moving it? —Giotto asked.
—A noble family… greedy and short-sighted. An alliance with them could open doors.
Giotto nodded. He liked that man. Silvio had business instinct and a nose for opportunity.
—From now on, you'll manage the northern routes. Nothing enters or leaves without your knowledge.
—It'll be an honor, signore.
With Silvio in charge of trade, Vongola's influence expanded—without firing a single arrow. The clans began to take notice.
During that year of expansion, the system rewarded Giotto. The ancient versions of the Sky Ring and the Storm Ring awakened. His body could now produce flames without excessive effort, and G also showed impressive growth.
—Look at this, Primo! —shouted G, unleashing a crimson blast that completely disintegrated a tree trunk.
—Incredible… You've advanced fast.
—Thanks to you. Your system… is helping me too.
Alongside the rings, the system granted him a pair of low-grade X-Gloves. Though rudimentary, they helped channel the flames without harming his body.
—Bodies in this world… they're not made for our flames, —G explained.
—That's why we use weapons, —Giotto responded. —So the flames don't destroy us from the inside.
But the greatest reward was something else:
—A new seed…
—The Rain Seed, —Giotto whispered, sensing its calm, steady energy.
G looked at him in awe.
—He will come soon too…
To be continued…