CHAPTER 19

“We’re almost there.” Emanuele at my side, his voice steady despite his shortness of breath.

He has Calypso in his arms, her unconscious body like that of a broken doll. I don't know if I made the right choice when I asked him to find her. I acted on instinct, but the mind demands reasons that I am unable to offer.

If I hadn't asked, he would have left her behind. The thought creeps into my head, cold and invasive. Sometimes I wonder if the real problem isn't the thousand shapes his body can take, but the void that seems to fill his morality. As if for him good and evil were blurry concepts, not something defined, nor essential. That's what scares me more than anything else.

No. I can't afford these thoughts now.

“Speed up! The corridor might collapse at any moment!” I yell at him, feeling my heart pound in my throat.

The flashing red lights confuse us, making it difficult to orient ourselves. Every time darkness falls for a moment, panic tightens in my chest. What if we are heading for a dead end? What if it is already too late?

“Lilia, keep running.” Emanuele’s voice is calm, as if he knows exactly what to do.

This irritates me, but at the same time it gives me the strength to keep going. He believes in me, but me? I don't even know if I'm doing the right thing.

When we finally arrive at the submarine room, the view that greets us is not comforting. The water has risen up to our calves and chaos reigns supreme. People are pushing, screaming, desperately looking for a place in the few remaining submarines. My eyes immediately run to our group.

Savannah stands in the doorway of a submarine, her face tense and pale, but when she sees me, she raises an eyebrow.

"Finally. I was starting to think you'd left us here to die."

“Now is not the time,” I reply, trying to keep my tone firm, even though inside I feel myself wavering.

Hermes stands nearby, his arms crossed and a smile that looks like a grimace of derision.

“Oh, our heroine is back. And with a booty,” she says, pointing to Calypso.

“A is a loot, a person.” My voice is sharp, but he doesn’t seem impressed. In fact, his smile widens.

Emanuele gives him a look that could incinerate anyone. “You heard her. Help us instead of standing there thinking it’s not your problem too.”

For a moment, their eyes meet, and there is something strange in that silence. A tension that I can't decipher, but that makes me feel out of place, as if I were missing something important.

“You know it’s not really my problem, but okay, Demetrius… oh, wait, sorry. You’re not him anymore, are you?” Hermes tilts his head, his tone deliberately provocative.

I don't understand what he means, but Emanuele stiffens, and for a moment he seems on the verge of losing control.

“Enough,” I say, louder than I intended. They both turn to me, surprised. “We don’t have time for your… personal feuds. We need to get on this sub and leave. Now.”

My voice trembles slightly, but I try not to let it show. Hermes simply nods dramatically.

“As you wish, pack leader .” The word is full of sarcasm, but I don’t have the strength to answer him.

Emanuele looks at me, his eyes full of something I can’t decipher. Maybe gratitude. Maybe worry.

“Are you ready?” he asks quietly, as if the world around us wasn’t literally falling apart.

I don’t know. I don’t feel like I can do anything, but I nod anyway. “Yes. Let’s go.”

Yaku has already climbed onto the submarine and signals us to hurry up. Savannah drags herself in with difficulty, limping, while Hermes slips in with his usual nonchalance. Emanuele and I are the last.

When we’re all finally inside, the hatch hisses shut, sealing us off from the chaos outside. I slump against a wall, breathing hard and my heart pounding. We’re safe. For now.

But when I meet Emanuele's gaze, I understand that the real battle has just begun.

The interior of the submarine is cramped, a stuffy metal capsule that seems designed for survival, not comfort. There are padded seats along the curved walls, but they are far too few for the number of people who have spilled into the various subs. Above us, neon lights flicker, casting long, distorted shadows. The front wall is a transparent panel that allows a glimpse of the dark water, a vast void that seems ready to swallow us.

I sit down, my legs still shaking, as Emanuele deposits Calipso on one of the seats. Savannah is curled up on one side, clutching her injured side. Hermes leans against the opposite wall, his usual wry smile plastered on his face, as if the situation is no more than an annoying distraction. Yaku remains standing, his gaze alert and his hands ready to react.

“What now?” I ask, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. The words echo in the claustrophobic air.

Hermes laughs dryly. “Now let’s hope this thing knows where to take us. None of us have pilot’s licenses, right?”

Savannah looks up, her purple eyes heavy with exhaustion and sarcasm. “Why would there be a need for pilots? It’s an emergency sub, not a spaceship. It’s made for desperate people like us.”

“And it works?” Yaku, ever practical, places a hand on the control panel. But before anyone can respond, the system activates with a pressurized hiss, and a deep rumble fills the capsule.

The lights brighten, and a message flashes on the clear panel: “ Automatic Start – Evacuation Procedure Activated .”

For a moment no one says anything. The submarine moves, a slight jolt followed by the sound of water rushing around us.

“Well, here’s our answer,” Emanuele murmurs, his voice calmer than I expected.

I lean back against the seat, but the tension in the air is tangible. It's not just the terror of not knowing where this submarine will take us. It's something bigger, something we don't yet dare put into words.

“Out there…” Savannah breaks the silence, her voice a mix of exhaustion and awareness. “All the Veiled are running away. It’s not just the shelter we’re losing. As bad as it was, it was the only thing keeping us safe.”

Hermes leans forward slightly, his smile not reaching his eyes.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t say that place was a home. It was a prison. And now…” He gestures vaguely with his hand. “The prison is open now.”

Yaku clenches his fists, but doesn't reply.

It’s Emanuele speaking, his voice sharp. “Not everyone should be free. And you know it.”

Hermes stares at him, his eyes filled with something I can’t quite put my finger on. “Who knows better than you, Demetrius.”

That word—that name again—strikes me like a bolt of lightning. For a moment the silence between us is total, as thick as the water that surrounds us. Emanuele doesn’t answer, but the way he stiffens tells me that Hermes has struck a chord too deep.

“Shut your damn mouth,” he hisses, fists clenched and fire in his eyes.

“Let’s stay calm,” I say, trying to regain control. “There’s nothing we can do about what’s happening out there. Not yet. The priority is figuring out where we’re going and what we’re going to do next.”

Savannah huffs, but says nothing. Yaku barely nods, while Hermes just smiles, as if my authority amused him.

But his words – and the way Emanuele received them – do not abandon me.

“Demetrio.” A name I don’t know, but it seems to have a huge weight for both of us. And I… I’m too afraid to ask.

My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, filled with endlessly overlapping possibilities and scenarios. Out there, the world is about to face a sudden and radical change. The imperfect Veiled—the most unstable, the most dangerous, fueled by a long-repressed anger—will pour into a society unaware of their existence. And that same society is not ready. It cannot be.

As the submarine plunges into darkness, a shiver runs through me. We are no longer on the run. We are at the beginning of something bigger, something scarier. And I... I don't know where I fit into all this.