Ficool

I'll time-travel to mentor legends across eras

shiMe
I was squatting on the steps of the Acropolis, clutching the terracotta goblets I had just bought, and watching this old man with bare feet bickering in the marketplace. The olive crown on his head was tilted to one side, his old robes were stained with mud, but his eyes shone as if they were burning through marble pillars. "Is this young Socrates?" I poked at the golden ball of light floating in the air. "Are you sure he's not a vagabond?" "Target Intelligence Level detected: SSS." The cold voice of the system sounded in the ear, "The host is advised to immediately perform the task of receiving students, remaining time: 2 hours 59 minutes." I touched the linen bag around my waist, which contained the system's "starter pack" - a bag of Skittles, two spring-loaded fist toys, and three glowing glass marbles. According to the instructions, these 21st century gadgets will conquer any ancient sage. "Get out of the way!" A rude roar interrupted my thoughts. Three strong men in purple cloaks pushed through the crowd, the leader with a bronze dagger at his side. Socrates, you are again deluding the citizens with your fallacies! The consul has decreed..." I jumped up and hit my lower back against the pillar and gasped in pain. The system said failure would turn me into a hamster, and I don't want to store food for winter on my fuzzy cheeks. When the strong man's fist was about to touch the tip of Socrates' nose, I swung my spring fist. "Snap!" Bronze wrist guards collide with plastic fists, and springs suddenly stretch like a silver snake around a strong man's wrist. The crowd exclaimed, and even Socrates widened his eyes. I slipped Skittles into his hand. "Taste this, the nectar of the gods from Mount Olympus." The blue-robed philosopher licked the colored candy hesitantly, and his gray beard popped up. "Sweet! And fruity! Young man, are you the atomic messenger of Democritus?" "Detected the target character's favorability +50%," the system's voice suddenly becomes cheerful, "invite the host to philosophical enlightenment." I stared at the ripped socks sticking out of the corner of Socrates' robe, and suddenly remembered what I had read in my high school textbook. In 399 BC, the philosopher would drink poisoned wine for "corrupting the youth." Now, like a child, he was handing out candy to the wildcats by the road, and the purple cloaks were stamping their feet with anger. "Sir," I pulled out the last item, "would you like to play a triage game?" The glowing glass marble rolled in the palm, reflecting a rainbow of light, "Truth is like this bead, every facet is a part of the truth." As soon as Socrates' fingers touched the marble, something strange happened. The pearl burst into the sky, casting holograms - a 3D model of the Academy of Athens 2,000 years later, with scholars in suits shuttling between the marble columns. The old philosopher was so excited that he knocked over the clay pot: "How beautiful! This is the embodiment of dialectics!" "Congratulations to the host for completing the first Act!" The system bursts into an electronic firecracker sound, "Acquire Skills: The Eye of Truth (can see through any sophistry)." Next time: Florence, Spring 1503. I took a last look at Socrates, surrounded by citizens, who was making a boat out of candy wrappers to play with a wild cat. As the golden swirls unfolded beneath my feet, I heard him ask, "What should a disciple call a teacher?" "Victor Fool." I laughed and jumped into the time tunnel, and suddenly the system screamed, "Warning! Skittles wrapper left in B.C. --"
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