
I can’t believe I’m actually going to do this. I mean, crawl into a ventilation shaft in the building where my mother is supposed to work.
I feel a slight anxiety, but also a terrible determination. I’ve never felt so alive.
Okay, my life has turned into a mess, but it feels like I’ve been living in a box until now. And now, the walls I couldn’t see through are collapsing.
There’s no ceiling anymore. No floor beneath my feet. It’s terrifying, of course—like free-falling into a void. And yet, there’s something else. A pull toward action, a need to look, to see the truth of things.
Truth can hurt. But lies are what kill.
And I want to live. More than anything. To the very end, until every secret is laid bare and every dark corner of my existence is illuminated.
I won’t deny that Emanuele’s presence has played a role. Without him, I don’t know where I’d be right now. Then again, I’m not even sure it makes sense to call him that. The name, the body I see—they’re just a mask he wears for me.
I wonder how many lives he’s lived, how many people he’s met. Loved, maybe. I’m aware that I’m just one of them—one among countless lives scattered across the many worlds he’s seen.
«Lilia?»
I snap out of my daze and quickly turn my attention back to him.
«Yeah, I’m here. Can you take it apart?» I ask, running my fingers over the grooves of the vent cover.
«Let me try.»
It takes him a few attempts, but eventually, the panel comes loose. He leans over to peer inside.
«I can’t see anything. I’ll go first. Only…»
«Only what?»
«Maybe you should turn the other way.»
«Why? You need to get undressed?»
Which, honestly, would be the least of my concerns.
«These aren’t clothes, remember? It’s just the way I appear to you.»
I can’t read his expression. He’s not smiling anymore, avoiding my gaze.
«Yeah, I get it. Memory isn’t exactly a weak point for me.»
«Right. Sorry.»
«You still haven’t answered me.»
He hesitates. «It’s just that… I have to shift into something that isn’t exactly… within your standards.»
I get straight to the point. «You think I’ll be disgusted?»
«Yeah. Pretty much.»
«You can’t disgust me.»
Emanuele laughs. «I really want to hug you.»
«Me too.»
For a moment, we just look at each other. I catch his gaze flickering to my lips, and I feel the weight of that almost-touch. I both fear and want it in equal measure.
I clear my throat. «We should focus on getting inside.»
«Yeah. Right.»
He slips an arm into the vent, and I watch as it lengthens, darkens—becoming something else. Like a snake. He slithers inside with a fluid motion that, I won’t lie, makes me shudder.
What if his mind shifts too? What if one day I wake up next to an alien creature that sees me as food?
Then again, he doesn’t seem to need to eat. That should be reassuring.
I sigh and force myself to concentrate. A part of me still clings to the hope that I’ll find my mother sitting at a desk doing the most normal job in the world. But everything I’ve learned so far makes me doubt it.
Minutes pass, and I grow impatient. What is he doing in there?
I lean forward—and that’s the only reason I avoid the thing that lashes toward me.
A… tongue?
I make the mistake of turning around. Instant regret.
A man in a black bodysuit vaults over the ledge and lands on the terrace. His feet are bare and webbed, like his hands. His pupils are narrow slits, yellow like a snake’s. His head is shaved, making his scarred, pockmarked face even more grotesque.
«So here’s our little runaway,» he hisses, his voice serpentine.
Then he flicks out that tongue again, greenish and awful, licking his lips in a way that makes my skin crawl.
I cannot believe creatures like this exist, hidden from the world. I cannot believe they’re after me.
He’s going to strike again, and I don’t know what to do.
As soon as I think that, my mind floods with possibilities—an overwhelming cascade of them.
And of course, I pick the most reckless one.
I dive headfirst into the vent.
Everything goes black. I slam into the metal walls, tumbling uncontrollably, my stomach flipping into my throat. So much for a glorious escape.
But the fear only lasts a moment.
I land on something soft—like a web. At least, that’s what it feels like, since I still can’t see. My heart hammers wildly as I try to move, but something holds me. Gently.
Like an embrace.
«Emanuele? Is that you?» I whisper, though calling him that feels strange when he’s not in human form.
He doesn’t answer, but he lowers me carefully, letting me slip downward.
Faint light filters through a few grates. I hear footsteps above us. Other vents branch out from where I am, and I keep descending until I’m gently pushed through an opening ahead.
It’s dim, a sign that there must be another grate further on.
The dark shape reforms—becoming Emanuele again.
I admit, I’m going to need time to get used to this.
He must notice my expression, because he looks like he’s about to apologize again.
«I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to fall.»
I bite my lip and push my hair back from my face. «No, no. Truth is, I jumped.»
«Jumped? Why?»
I tell him what happened. His face tenses.
«They’re relentless. And they’re sparing no expense. It’s worse than I thought.»
Cold sweat beads on my forehead.
«But who? Sphinx or Truesight?»
«If you ask me? Both.»
My instincts tell me he’s right. I feel like I’m standing at the center of a chessboard, caught between two opposing forces. The problem is—I don’t know what move to make. I don’t know who my allies are. Who my enemies are.
And once again, I can’t help but wonder—is Emanuele really telling me everything?
I know so little about him.
«What’s your real name?» I ask, abruptly.
His lips part in surprise. «You know my name.»
«In this form. But if you had to name yourself?»
«Lilia, we don’t have time for this.»
«I want to know. Emanuele is just a mask. What’s your true name?»
«I don’t have a true name.» He looks genuinely conflicted. Pressing his fingers to his eyes, he exhales sharply.
«Then choose one.»
He lowers his gaze, and for a moment, it’s like he’s lost in memories.
«Most of them are… unpronounceable,» he mutters. «But for a long time, I called myself… Quod.»
I frown. «That’s Latin. It refers to things, not people.»
«I never really felt like a person,» he says shortly. «Can we go now?»
I don’t know how to respond to that.
To me, he is a person.
But can I say the same when he’s not in human form?
Maybe I’ll never truly understand who he is. If he can even be someone in particular.
I’m about to lose my mind. And he looks like he’s on the verge of snapping too.
A noise above startles me.
Emanuele glances up and mutters a curse under his breath.
«Stay here. I’ll deal with Lizard-Man.»
«Be careful. If something happened to you—»
He pauses, waiting.
I clear my throat. «I mean… just be careful, okay?»
«Yeah. Don’t move.»
He shifts again, disappearing into the vent.
For long seconds, I hear nothing.
My heart pounds as I inch toward the faint glow at the end of the passage.
A grate.
I lie on my stomach to get a better view—and that’s when I see her.
My mother.
And a moment later, Emanuele is back, leaning against the vent.
He doesn’t speak.
But I see the tears in his eyes.
«Please, talk to me.»
He wipes his face with his arm, licking his lips before speaking. «I’m… sensitive to pain.»
«Are you… are you hurt?»
«No. Not much.»
He runs his hands over his face and sniffles. «Give me a second. It’ll pass.»
«Why? You have nothing to apologize for. Alan Watts used to say we can’t be more sensitive to pleasure without also being more sensitive to pain.»
I say it without thinking. I must have read it somewhere.
He gives a small smile. «I think that guy was onto something.»
I place my hand on his arm. God, he feels so real. Could he really be nothing more than an illusion, a trick of my senses? If I keep thinking like this, I’m going to lose my mind. I don’t know who he is. I don’t even know who I am anymore. Everything is unraveling, shifting in ways I can’t predict.
He runs his fingers down his face and leans his head back against the wall. «Well, now you know my weakness.»
«Pain… or pleasure?»
His eyebrows lift, amusement flickering in his eyes. I, on the other hand, burn with embarrassment. Why did I ask that?!
I clear my throat. «I mean… you must have some weaknesses.»
He smirks. «More than one, actually.»
Great. Not a single word coming out of my mouth is right today. Thankfully, he changes the subject.
«Did you see your mother?»
«Yeah. She’s sitting at her desk. What do we do now?»
«You need to talk to her, don’t you?»
«Yeah, but… it’s weird that she’s just sitting there working while I’ve disappeared.»
The thought makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
«Do you think she’s involved?»
His lips press into a tight line. That expression tells me everything.
«Why didn’t you tell me?»
«Neither of us knows for sure. Let’s move before—»
A hiss. A crackling sound, like static electricity filling the air.
My whole body goes cold, as if something has drained all the blood from my veins.
Emanuele presses a finger to his lips and crawls past me, toward the grate.
I have to see too.
I don’t want to live in a world with hidden faces anymore. I don’t care how ugly the truth is—I want to see it.
But the moment I do, I pay for it in full.
I slap my hands over my mouth, unsure if it’s to stifle a scream or to keep down the acid rising in my throat.
My mother is slumped over the keyboard. Motionless.
Like a corpse.
I lose control of my body. My limbs shake, my breath catches, and I can’t move.
Emanuele pulls me against him, his chest pressed against my back. Maybe it’s the only thing keeping my soul from shattering into pieces.
Even when a man dressed in black lifts her as if she weighs nothing. His face is hidden beneath a ski mask, as is the face of the one helping him shove her into a garbage bag.
I feel like I’m dying. Helpless. Lost.
Watching all the horror that has ruined my life unfold in front of me.
Frozen in a block of ice made from all the tears I still can’t cry.
My voice is barely a whisper. «I don’t understand… she never hurt anyone. Do you think she’s… dead?»
«We’ll find out, Lilia. Just wait.»
He grips the grate and, after a few tries, wrenches it free.
«I’ll go first.»
«Are they gone?»
«Yes.»
He slips out, hanging from the edge before dropping silently to the floor.
«Come.»
I sniff, take a few deep breaths, and repeat his movements. But without his help, I would have collapsed. My legs feel like jelly.
«Are you okay?»
The office is decorated in neutral tones—beige walls, polished parquet floors. Framed landscapes hang on the walls, but the lighting is too sterile to be warm. A few chairs sit opposite the desk, arranged for guests. Otherwise, the space is purely functional.
«They cleaned everything out.»
The computer is gone. So is the keyboard and monitor.
Lethal. Precise. Fast.
What can I possibly do against people like this? Against beings that can scale walls like lizards?
Emanuele checks under the desk, rummages through drawers, moves the few framed pictures.
«What are you looking for?»
I wrap my arms around myself, but it does nothing to still the void consuming me.
He runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. «A stroke of luck, I guess.»
«I think that’s the bathroom door. Should we check in there too?»
«I hadn’t noticed it.»
It’s flush with the wall, barely visible. We slide the panel open.
It looks like an ordinary bathroom—spacious, pristine. A shower, miniature hotel soaps, an unopened tube of toothpaste, an unused deodorant. A set of neatly folded towels rests on a metal shelf.
«Where do you think she is?» he asks. «See anything strange?»
«I don’t know… But I guess I don’t need to think too hard, do I?»
«Exactly.»
«The towels.»
Emanuele removes them one by one, revealing a painted-over electrical panel, camouflaged to match the wall.
«Sorry, I need to shift.»
«You don’t have to say it like it’s a crime every time.»
«It’s just… I won’t be very pleasant to look at.»
«It doesn’t matter. It’s fine.»
Or at least, I hope it is.
He sighs—then shifts.
The creature before me is nearly seven feet tall, a nightmare of an insect with sickle-like hooks on its forelimbs. I take a step back, overwhelmed by its sheer presence.
Real.
And absurd.
Just like everything else around me.
I am terrified.
But I hope he doesn’t notice.
He wrenches the panel open with a flick of a claw, then shifts back to human form.
I swallow hard. «Is there something inside?»
«Yeah. You’re gonna want to sit down.»
He pulls out a small metal box and slips it into his pocket.
«What is it?»
«A hard drive.»
I open my mouth to ask more, but then—
A terrible thought slams into me.
My brother.
«Oh God. We have to find Luca. They’ll kill him too!»
«Do you know where he is?»
«Yesterday, my mom texted me that she left him with my aunt, but I don’t know… He could be at school.»
Desperation chokes me, but I fight to keep it from swallowing me whole.
What if it’s already too late?
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