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Overview
I don't know what happened. I barely remember any details. I remember my passion for the crusaders. I always liked them. Between romantic and mysterious. I remember that night, precisely, I read the story of one of them. It was a curious story, bordering on legend. He even made sure it was true. (Was it, or should I say is?). It said something about a boy trapped in an enchanted castle and in a time to which he did not belong. It also said something about a time machine. Then I fell asleep: I'm still not sure if this could be true, the fact is that I woke up here, in this castle, dressed as a crusader, surrounded by ghosts and ghosts. I don't want to understand. I am reluctant to understand. Of course, if it were true ... if it were ... I would only have one hope ... the machine ... the time machine.
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