Romina stays silent, her eyes locked on mine.

Come on, Milo. Do it. No point keeping her in the dark any longer. All in or all out.

I take a deep, shaky breath and start talking. From the parking lot at the fairgrounds up to now. Everything. The Veil, the demons, the laser beam from my hand, the Intuitives, the lost Books. Fiore—my fairy. The Code. Every single detail, even what just happened with my power awakening. It’s like emptying a jar full of smoke: once you open it, it never goes back in.

By the time I’m done, I’m exhausted. Hearing the whole chain of events out loud scares even me. The room sinks into a heavy silence that feels like it’s pressing down on my chest.

Then, out of nowhere, Romina smacks me on the shoulder so hard I nearly fold in half.

“Cazzo*, Milo! What the hell made you think not telling me was a good idea?! Were you waiting for us to die first?!” she bursts out.

“S-sorry, I know,” I stammer, guilt written all over me.

“Sorry, my ass!” she shoots back, hitting me again—harder this time.

“I know! But I was scared!” I blurt out.

“You’re telling me?!” she glares, furious.

“I just wanted to protect you until I understood more about… all this madness,” I rush out, words tripping over each other. “It’s new to me too, I’m still processing, damn it!”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just because you didn’t know how to deal with it?” she fires back, sharp as a knife.

“Romina…” She’s hit the exact heart of the matter. No matter how much I tell her I did it for her, that’s not how things really are. There’s nothing I can do to change that.

“I’m not just a side character in your life,” she adds, her voice breaking. “We’re a family to me, Milo. And you don’t protect family by lying. You protect family by facing things together, even when it’s scary, even when you don’t know how it will end.”

I feel myself breaking inside. “I know… I was afraid of how you might react…” I murmur.

“Yes, but instead of talking to me and trusting our relationship, you decided for me. And that’s what hurts the most,” she finishes harshly.

I bow my head, feeling the weight of her words. She’s right—on every front, I was wrong.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t want to lose you… Forgive me…”

A heavy silence falls between us.

Then, suddenly, her voice softens. “Next time… tell me. Even if you don’t have answers. Even if it sucks. Even if it scares you. Just tell me. Okay?”

I nod, unable to say more, as her hand gently rests on my head.

We stay like that for a while, comforting each other with the warmth between us.

Then Romina makes room, and we lie down on our backs together, even though we’re cramped. I shift a little on the bed to find a comfortable position, my heart still in turmoil.

“So… what do we do now?” she murmurs.

“Good question.” I sigh, bringing a hand to my forehead. “Tomorrow we’ll have to talk to the Council leaders, I guess. And to Uncle Bruno. After that… no idea. I can’t go home anymore, but I’d like to see what’s left at my apartment.”

Romina turns to me, her expression serious. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go home either.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, feeling a knot in my stomach.

“Think about it,” she says calmly. “If they’re after you, and I’m with you… The next place they could come looking for you would be my home.”

The reality of her words hits me hard, and I fall silent for a moment. “I hadn’t thought of that… Romina… are you sure?”

She nods, without hesitation. “Don’t worry.”

“Tomorrow we’ll talk to Fiore about this, too,” I add, seriously.

“Oh!” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up for a moment.

“What is it?”

“I just realized we won’t be able to go to work anymore either.”

“You’re right! Now that is good news,” I reply, suddenly happy. “I was actually thinking of quitting that cursed job anyway, after the fall at the Rocca.”

Romina chuckles softly, the sound lifting a weight off my heart. “So you need some demons in town and a sexy fairy to make you change jobs?”

“What can I say… I’m a simple guy,” I answer, squeezing her hand. “I love you, Romie. Thanks for being in my life.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” she whispers, resting her head on my shoulder. “Shall we sleep now? My eyes are closing.”

I nod, letting my head slide toward hers on the pillow. “Good idea.”

Then, with one last mischievous smile, she adds, “But tomorrow you'd better tell me all about Fiore’s make-out session, you little minx. I want every dirty detail.”

My stomach twists for a moment thinking about it, and I chuckle. “Alright, gossip girl. Go to sleep now.”

And that’s how we fall asleep, wrapped in each other in the small infirmary bed, suspended between two Worlds, our breathing following one another, in a silence full of warmth and safety.

-

That night, I had that strange dream again.
I find myself in a sterile space, all white and bright. Beneath my feet is a layer of crystal-clear water, about four inches deep, and from above, countless sheer, almost transparent curtains drift down, slowly intertwining as they float. I don’t quite understand where I’m supposed to go, just like last time.

The warm voice from before speaks to me again, seeming to come from every corner of the light. It’s solemn, powerful. It commands me to awaken the dormant power and summon the spirit of a certain Cassiel. I try to speak, but no sound comes out of my mouth.

I wake up abruptly, drool on my lips, while Romina is still sleeping peacefully. I get up and check the clock on the dresser next to the bed: it’s just six in the morning.

There has to be a bathroom in this absurd place.

I quietly open the infirmary door and slip into the hallway, turning left toward the room Fiore had taken me to yesterday. I yawn and scratch my stomach as I walk, searching for the bathroom, noticing the doors all identical to the dusty room Fiore had shown me. They’re probably all offices.

I walk for a while until I notice the large auditorium doors on my left. I stare at them, confused. Don’t tell me this hallway is a gigantic loop.

“So… how am I supposed to pee now?” I mutter without thinking.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn and see a man with an athletic build coming toward me fast, wearing bright orange running shoes and fluorescent athletic gear. His hair is salt-and-pepper, with a matching goatee and mustache, and he wears round, colored-lens glasses; a pair of silver hoop earrings dangle from his earlobes.
He’s fiddling with the smartwatch on his wrist, head bent, yet despite his athletic gear, he has a distinguished, almost elegant air. He sticks out like a sore thumb here. What’s a middle-aged runner doing in a place like this?

Might as well ask him if he knows where the bathroom is.

“Uh…” I venture, just to break the ice. “Excuse me?”

“Good heavens!” the man exclaims, jumping as if a firecracker went off behind him, then lifts his gaze from behind his colored lenses to look at me.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” I rush to say. Up close, I notice that yes, his hair is salt-and-pepper and so is his goatee, but the guy’s holding up remarkably well for his apparent age.

“No, no, no problem, young man. Go ahead, tell me.”

“Well… I’m looking for a bathroom.”

“A bathroom?” He looks at me as if I’d just asked him to explain Instagram’s algorithm. “There aren’t any bathrooms here.”

“What do you mean, ‘there aren’t any bathrooms here’? What am I supposed to do if I have to go?” I reply, aghast. Do I have to leave the Council just to take a leak?

“No, no, I meant on this floor!” he corrects me, opening a friendly smile with thirty-two dazzlingly white teeth. “You have to go down that ramp, behind the column. See it?”

I follow his finger and… of course, I hadn’t noticed the narrow staircase at all, camouflaged into the architecture, with a tiny sign that reads ‘Toilette.’ Are the bathrooms here a state secret?

“At the far right,” he adds, a twinkle in his eye.
“Bathrooms are always at the far right, huh?” I mutter to myself.

“Absolutely. Life needs certainties,” he replies, with a bright, ringing laugh.

Then he glances at his watch, adjusts his glasses, and with a half-bow concludes, “And speaking of certainties, I must dash. Tight schedule, you know how it is. Farewell!”

And off he goes, striding decisively, his figure disappearing into the immense nave, the ceiling stretching up into the clouds, toward the entrance hall. I watch him until he vanishes.

“This place is full of bizarre people…” I mutter, scratching my head.
I didn’t yet know I’d see him again soon, under completely different circumstances.

*Cazzo: Rough exclamation, like “damn!” or “shit!” depending on context.