What If...
Alton Gets Sent on a Surprise Trip? (Pt. 2)
Turin with 039
Next stop: Turin. It’s 10 a.m. sharp when Alton rolls into the train station. He sprints across the concourse, late as always — he was supposed to already be at the café.
“Bro! Sorry I’m late,” Alton pants. “Drone acknowledges Alton. Golden Bros are always late.” “C’mon bro, that’s not fair! I really tried to be on time.”
They sit down at a terrace table and order two espressos.
“It knows the problem with Golden Bros: too easily distracted. Drones are disciplined. Focused. Efficient.”
“Oh yeah, 039 bro? Prove it! Staring contest. Whoever blinks first loses.” “It accepts Alton’s challenge.”
Alton leans in, laser-focused, locking eyes with 039.
“I’ll show you who’s disciplined, bro,” he thinks.
Five minutes pass. Then ten. Suddenly a ridiculously hot Carabinieri strolls by their table. Bam — Alton’s eyes dart instantly.
“Dammit, bro!” Alton groans, slapping the table. “It was right.” “Yeah, you were, bro. Hate when you’re right!” Alton laughs. “So, what’s on deck today, bro?” “It has arranged motorcycles.” “Bro, you’re the best! Love you, man,” Alton beams.
They tear through Turin’s grand boulevards, then out of the city, flying past Stupinigi and Venaria Reale, ripping through the vineyards of Piemonte, drunk on speed and freedom.
Back in town, after aperitivo, they hit a trattoria. 039 orders, and the waiter shaves fresh Alba white truffle over their plates.
“It’s called agnolotti — stuffed pasta, Piemonte specialty,” 039 explains. “Bro, this looks insane, smells even better. And…” Alton glances at the waiter, grinning, “…no way we’re pulling a staring contest in here!”
They laugh. Alton takes a bite, then sighs. “But seriously bro… being more focused, like you, wouldn’t be so bad.” “There is a way, Alton. You should go to Budapest. Speak with Franco.”
Budapest with Franco
Next stop: Budapest. Alton pushes through the chaos at Keleti station, already hyped to see his bro Franco. And there he is.
Grinning wide, Alton smacks his hand into Franco’s and pulls him in for a hug. “Bro, so good to see you again!” “Same here, Alton!” Franco laughs.
They stroll the Buda old town, chatting and sightseeing, until Alton spots a street stall stacked with rose hips and every possible rose-hip product.
“Rose hips, bro?” “Oh yeah, bro! Fall here means pumpkins and rose hips. We go big on it.”
Alton, a sucker for rose hips, samples everything. Meanwhile, Franco grabs a fresh one, splits it, scoops out the seeds — and rubs them all over Alton’s neck.
Alton screams, flailing. “Franco, bro! You’re dead! When I get my hands on you—”
Franco’s doubled over, laughing his head off, while Alton claws at the burning seeds. Finally calm again, they grab a coffee.
“Bro, wanna relax? How about the baths?” Franco asks. “Hell yeah, bro!”
They head to the famous Széchenyi Thermal Bath. Soaking in the warm pools, Alton brings up Turin.
“Bro, 039 showed me we get distracted too easy. Said there’s a way to fix it. You know about that?”
Franco looks serious. “Yeah, bro. But whether you’ll like it… that’s another story.” “Spit it out, bro.” “I don’t think I’m the one to explain.” “Bro, you kidding me? You always know what to say!” “This case is different. I think you need to go to Trier. Talk to 073.” “073? Bro, you think I don’t know what that means? You think I’m dumb?” “Stop talking nonsense. Trust me. It might have a solution. But be careful.”
Alton’s left thinking hard. That night, hungry as hell, they hit a trendy restaurant in Pest serving Hungarian classics as tapas.
“Bro, genius idea! I can finally try everything in one go,” Alton grins. “Right? Glad we found this place,” Franco laughs.
Trier with 073
Final destination: Trier. With a knot in his stomach, Alton steps off the train and heads for the Kaiserforum to meet 073. He likes 073 — they get along great. But he also knows exactly what 073’s role in the Golden Army is. And Franco’s cryptic words still weigh on him.
Still — no risk, no fun.
“Yo 073, bro! Awesome to see you, man! How you been?” “It is glad to see Alton. Shall we explore the city?” “Absolutely, bro! Love checking out new places.”
They wander Trier, 073 dropping knowledge on every monument, square, and alley. Alton’s impressed. But sightseeing makes him hungry.
“073 bro, I’m starving. Got a good spot in mind?” “It knows exactly the place.”
They sit down in a traditional tavern. 073 orders Trier Flieten. Alton has no clue what that is.
“Hopefully not Tokyo-level weird,” he mutters. “Though some of that stuff was actually fire…”
The plates land on the table — chicken wings and fries.
“Bro, this is perfect! You’re the man, 073!” “It knows what Golden Bros like.”
Stuffed and happy, Alton finally brings up what’s been bothering him.
“073 bro… in Turin, 039 showed me I’m not as focused as I thought. Franco said you might have a solution…” “Alton knows the answer to his unasked question. And Alton knows what represents discipline and focus in the Golden Army.” “Yeah, 073, that’s true. But you also know my answer to your unasked question.” “073 acknowledges.” “A dilemma then.” “Alton probably means a stalemate.” “Thanks, 073. As always, right.” “Perhaps it does know a solution. Follow 073.”
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