The Auditorium of Vesuvius Academy was an immense structure carved directly into volcanic rock. Towering columns of black basalt supported a domed ceiling made of thick glass that barely let the morning light filter through. The architecture resembled a Greek amphitheater with semicircular rows of seats descending toward a central stage, each section dedicated to a specific tier of students. The front rows, reserved for members of the Eight Houses, consisted of seats carved from finely worked permanent ice. As you climbed higher, the luxury decreased dramatically, until you reached the last rows reserved for lower-ranked students, with simple, ordinary seats.

  Brando and Giordano had taken seats in one of the last rows, blending in with the mass of confused-looking students. The auditorium was practically full, with hundreds of kids from age ten and up filling every available spot. In the buzz of conversation, if you concentrated a bit, you could hear some speculation.

  "Did you hear? They say they found something new outside the Dome, but I couldn't quite catch what."

  "Someone told me there was a malfunction in the main generator."

  "I heard one of the Eight Houses is about to be deposed."

  Giordano leaned toward Brando, facepalming. "Nobody here is talking about Bianca or the incident," he whispered, making sure no one could hear what he was saying. "The silence order worked perfectly."

  Brando nodded, studying the front rows where members of the Eight Houses sat. Marco Ruocco and his lackeys occupied front-row seats. Ripa's absence was obvious, and his empty seat remained like a silent reminder of what had happened.

  "I wonder what they'll say about Bianca's disappearance," Brando said quietly. "They can't just pretend she never existed."

  Suddenly, the auditorium lights dimmed until the environment was left in an unsettling semi-darkness. The buzz of voices intensified, then...

  "SILENCE!"

  The voice thundered through the auditorium with such power that Brando felt the vibration in his ribcage. It wasn't just the volume, but a strange form of intrinsic power it carried, like an almost physical presence that imposed itself on hundreds of young Bearers like an invisible hand pressing on every single mouth.

  The silence that followed was absolute. Not a whisper, not a cough, not even the rustle of movement. It was as if the air itself had frozen.

  Then, the measured sound of solitary footsteps.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Measured steps, neither too fast nor too slow. Steps that spoke of absolute control, of a man who had never hurried in his life because he knew the world would always wait for him, not the other way around. The footsteps echoed with a spectral resonance in the immense silence, creating an almost hypnotic effect.

  The massive doors at the back of the auditorium opened with a sharp thud, and a figure stood silhouetted against the external light.

  The man advanced with a martial stride. His silhouette defined itself as he proceeded, revealing a lean, strong body in a perfectly tailored black suit. He didn't wear the Cold Soldiers' uniform. His attire was more reminiscent of a corporate executive or politician, but there was something military in his posture and movements.

  As he approached the center of the stage, the light illuminated his face. Brando felt a shiver run down his spine.

  The man appeared to be in his forties despite being over a hundred. His silver-white hair, slightly disheveled in a controlled way, contrasted with a face of decisive features devoid of wrinkles. His eyes were such a pale, cold blue they seemed almost transparent. His face was an impassive mask, carved from the marble of calculated indifference.

  "The Protector Amedeo De Luca," Giordano whispered, with a respect in his tone that Brando had never heard from him before.

  Brando immediately stiffened. If what Bianca had told him was true, this man was the only one, besides her and now Brando himself, to have seen the red eye on the Alien Artifact. The same person who had ordered the destruction of the Deviation Project. And, as Ripa had suggested, probably the man who had allowed Bianca to enter the Academy despite being a Deviant.

  De Luca reached the center of the stage and stopped. He didn't immediately take the microphone. For almost a full minute, he simply observed the audience. He made no gestures with his hands, which remained perfectly still at his sides. His gaze crossed the auditorium slowly, as if cataloging every single face. When he finally spoke, he didn't raise his voice, but somehow managed to be heard perfectly to the last row.

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  "Seventy years have passed," he began with a deep, calm voice, "since the first Glacial Pit was discovered on the slopes of Vesuvius. Fifty-two years since the first Deviant was identified and contained. Fifteen years since the last direct attack against the Great Dome was repelled." He paused measuredly. "Today we are here to talk about a new type of threat."

  He took the microphone with a deliberately slow gesture, his pale and perfectly manicured hands contrasting with his natural austerity.

  "Two days ago, during a standard maintenance operation, a new type of Glacial was sighted. One that doesn't correspond to any existing classification."

  A murmur crossed the room, but it only took De Luca slightly raising an eyebrow for immediate silence to return.

  "This Glacial has demonstrated advanced cognitive abilities and humanoid characteristics." His voice betrayed no emotion, as if he were discussing the weather instead of a potential deadly threat. "It has already attacked and severely injured one of our Bearers, and has damaged an important research facility."

  Brando and Giordano exchanged a glance. The "Glacial" he was talking about was clearly Bianca in her Deviant form. The "research facility" was the secret laboratory under the Pit. Ripa, with his torn arm, was the "injured Bearer." Every word contained a fragment of truth, but so skillfully recontextualized as to become almost unrecognizable.

  "From this moment," De Luca continued, "Operation Purifying Frost is in effect. All exit permits from the Great Dome are temporarily suspended. Border patrols have been doubled. Until my order, no more excursions into the outside world will be permitted."

  He moved a single step, but that calculated movement captured everyone's attention like a sudden whip crack.

  "Furthermore, given the potential level of danger, I have ordered the deployment of the Four Aces."

  A collective whisper crossed the auditorium. The Four Aces—the most powerful Bearers in the Polis after the Protector himself. Almost mythical figures, known only by their operational code: GIS, GOI, Col Moschin, and Folgore. No student had ever seen them in action.

  "The Four Aces will control the area surrounding the Great Dome and neutralize the threat." De Luca's face remained completely impassive. "Anyone possessing information about Bianca Ruggeri, the missing student, is required to report it immediately to security personnel."

  There it was. The only mention of Bianca. Not as a Deviant, not as the creature that had transformed before them, but as a "missing student." Brando felt anger building inside him. This was the official truth they were constructing: Bianca, missing during the attack of an unknown Glacial.

  "The student in question may have crucial information about the nature of the threat," De Luca concluded. "Her recovery is considered a priority for the security of the Polis."

  Amedeo De Luca returned to observing the audience, pausing for a moment on each section. When his glacial gaze passed over Brando's row, the boy could have sworn he felt his Cold Veins slow for an instant. Then, with the same sudden immediacy with which he had arrived, the Protector turned and headed toward the exit.

  "Return to your regular activities," he said without turning around. "Your instructors have specific instructions for the coming days. That is all."

  With the same choreographed precision with which he had entered, Amedeo De Luca left the auditorium, with the sound of his footsteps fading into silence.

  The door closed behind him and, like a switch being reactivated, the auditorium exploded into a chaos of voices.

  "Shit," Giordano whispered. "They're looking for Bianca. But that's not what he said. They're trying to make her look like a victim, not the monster."

  "They're trying to cover up a Deviant? But why?!" Brando murmured. "Ripa said Deviants are eliminated as soon as they're discovered... yet Bianca was here, in plain sight. And now they're trying to keep the secret about her true nature."

  "And he came in person," Giordano added. "The Protector never leaves his palace in the center of the Polis. Not for matters like this. He usually sends his subordinates."

  Brando thought back to De Luca's impassive expression, to those icy eyes that seemed to see through people. "Bianca told me that only she and the Protector had seen the red eye in the Artifact."

  "And now you too." Giordano looked at him with renewed seriousness. "And there's no trace of Bianca, who might know what the hell is going on."

  Around them, students began to flow out of the auditorium, carrying with them a river of excited and frightened voices commenting on the Protector's announcement and Bianca Ruggeri's mysterious disappearance. No one besides Brando and Giordano seemed to connect the two facts.

  "We need to find out what's going on," Brando said, lowering his voice even further. "There's something bigger behind all this. The Artifact, the Deviants, Bianca, the Protector... they're all connected somehow."

  Giordano nodded slowly, then a gleam crossed his eyes. "The library."

  "What?"

  "The Academy library," Giordano repeated, turning to make sure no one was listening to them. "It's in the east tower, seventh floor. We were supposed to go there, remember? It contains texts from decades ago, classified documents, even original reports on the Alien Artifact and the Cooling Down."

  "How do we get in?" Brando asked, already intuiting that Giordano would never have raised the issue without having a plan.

  "My surname still opens some doors," Giordano smiled, but without his usual cockiness. "And I know that during night shifts there's only one guard, an old retired Cold Soldier who spends more time sleeping than watching."

  "When?"

  "Tonight. After curfew."

  Brando looked him in the eyes. "This could cost us expulsion."

  "And if we don't find out what's happening, it could cost the Polis itself much more," Giordano retorted, suddenly very serious. "You saw what Bianca transformed into. Whatever's happening, it's just the beginning."

  As they left the auditorium along with the other students, Brando took one last look at the now-empty stage. For a moment, he thought he could still see the Protector's figure, with that glacial gaze that looked too deeply into people.

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