The smell of antiseptic clung to Kaiden's nostrils. Beeping machines hummed beside him, but his eyes weren't on them. They were fixed on the door, on the muffled sound of footsteps approaching.
The image of the monsters still burned inside his skull. The shrieks. The tearing of flesh. The woman's scream. His own body moving without his permission, stepping in front of death like he had a death wish.
He rubbed his face with trembling hands.
"What the hell was I even thinking…?"
The door creaked open.
Two men walked in—the same ones he'd seen tearing through monsters like demons of their own. The first was lean, sharp-eyed, with black hair tied back, and a blade still at his hip. Sparks seemed to crawl faintly across the steel, even at rest. The other was broader, olive-skinned, his jacket scorched at the edges as if the fire he wielded clung stubbornly to him.
Kaiden sat up, disbelief flooding back. "...No way. You're real."
The Japanese man's expression softened. He spoke calmly, his accent clear but his words deliberate.
"We saw what you did. How you shielded that girl. In that moment, most would've run. But you—" He paused, eyes narrowing with respect. "You stood."
Kaiden blinked. His throat tightened. "I… I didn't even know what I was doing."
The Italian man chuckled, spinning the lighter he kept twirling between his fingers. "That's the point, ragazzo. Nobody throws their life away for a stranger. You didn't run. That says something."
Kaiden looked away, embarrassed, gripping the blanket. He wanted to say he hadn't meant to. That his legs had betrayed him. That he had been more scared than anyone else. But… the words wouldn't leave his mouth.
Instead, what came out was:
"What the hell were those things? Monsters? In Italy?"
The Japanese man sighed. "Not just Italy. Everywhere." His eyes hardened. "Creatures like those have existed for centuries. The world doesn't see them until it's too late."
Kaiden swallowed, cold sweat prickling his neck. Everywhere? The thought made his stomach churn.
"...And the girl? The one I—" His voice cracked. "The one I tried to protect. Did she…"
"She's alive," the Italian interrupted. His smile was reassuring for once. "She was injured, sì, but she's in surgery now. She'll recover."
Relief crashed through Kaiden so hard he almost collapsed back into the bed. He exhaled sharply, burying his face in his palms. At least one good thing came out of this nightmare.
When he finally looked up, the Japanese man was holding something out.
"We believe this belongs to you."
Kaiden's breath caught. His backpack. And inside—
The photograph. His mother, smiling beside his father.
He grabbed it with shaking hands. "Thank you… really. I thought I lost it." His voice softened. "I was… actually looking for him. My father. That's why I came here to Rome. And then—" He laughed bitterly. "—this happened."
The Italian leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. "Well, maybe it's fate, ragazzo. You risked your life for a citizen. We were late, and because of that, you almost died. The least we can do is help you."
Kaiden stared at him. "You'd… help me find him?"
"Depends," the man replied with a smirk. "What's his name?"
Kaiden hesitated, then said it. "Giovanni. Giovanni Cassano."
The room went quiet.
The two men froze. Their eyes flicked to each other, their relaxed expressions hardening.
Kaiden frowned. "...What? Why are you—"
"Say it again," the Japanese man demanded quietly.
Confused, Kaiden repeated, "Giovanni Cassano."
The Italian stepped forward, snatching the photograph from his hand. His eyes scanned it quickly, and his face shifted into something Kaiden couldn't read. Recognition. Doubt. Fear.
"I thought I was mistaken," he muttered. "But no… I wasn't."
Kaiden stood, heart pounding. "What's wrong? Do you know him?!"
Neither answered. Their silence weighed heavier than any monster's roar. Finally, the Italian spoke, voice grim.
"There's someone else you need to talk to."
---
Hours later, the streets of Rome were quiet. Kaiden followed the two men through winding alleys until they stopped at a small, vintage house with faded shutters. It looked out of place, old and untouched by the modern city around it.
The Italian knocked.
From inside came a harsh voice, in rapid Italian:
"Ho detto che non prenderò mai più un apprendista!"
(I told you already—I will not take another apprentice!)
The Italian shouted back, switching to his own tongue. "This isn't about apprentices, vecchio. There's someone you need to see."
At first, the voice refused, but after a tense silence, the door creaked open. An old man stood framed in the doorway, his eyes sharp despite the weight of years.
His gaze fell past the two men. Straight to Kaiden.
The air seemed to thicken.
Inside, the old man spoke quietly to Leonardo and Yuki. "Why bring me a child?"
Leonardo leaned in, whispering just loud enough for Kaiden to hear fragments. "He's Giovanni's son."
The old man stiffened. Slowly, he turned toward Kaiden. His expression softened, though his voice trembled slightly when he spoke—in Italian first, then in halting English.
"Are you… truly Giovanni's boy?"
Kaiden nodded, holding up the photograph. "This is my mom and dad. Christina… and Giovanni."
For a moment, the old man simply stared at the photo. Then he motioned for Kaiden to follow. "Come. We talk… alone."
---
The garden behind the house was quiet, overgrown but strangely serene. Lanterns glowed dimly, casting long shadows over stone paths.
The old man sat slowly on a wooden bench, gesturing for Kaiden to join him.
"You look like him," he said softly. "And her, too. Christina… how is she?"
Kaiden's chest tightened. He looked down. "She died. Twelve years ago."
Pain flickered in the man's eyes. He bowed his head. "She was kind. Too kind. I was… close with your parents. Both of them."
Kaiden frowned. "How?"
The old man hesitated, then answered, "Because your father and I… we fought together. With the Earth Guard. We were deployed to Manila in 1996. Part of the Flow Corps."
Kaiden's brows knitted. "Earth Guard? Flow Corps? What even is that? Like… those two guys earlier?"
The old man gave a small chuckle. "Exactly like them. Protectors. Warriors. Those who use the Flows to keep humanity safe." His smile faded, replaced with something gentler. "Your parents were good people. And you… you carry them both in your face. And in your heart. Even the world thinks you're walking alone.."
Kaiden bit his lip. "You… you know about my life? About me being alone?"
The man nodded sadly. "Christina had no family. I knew that. It must have been… heavy. For a boy."
Kaiden's throat ached. He forced a smile, though his voice cracked. "It was hard. But… it doesn't mean you give up, right?"
For the first time, the old man truly smiled. "You sound like her."
Kaiden gripped the photo tighter. "I came here to find him. My dad. Giovanni. That's why I'm in Rome. Do you… know where he is?"
The old man fell silent. His eyes darkened, shadowed by something Kaiden couldn't name. Finally, he exhaled.
"In your current state… you cannot meet him."
Kaiden's heart sank. "Why? What do you mean? Is he some celebrity? A businessman?"
The old man's face hardened, all warmth vanishing. His voice was low, almost a growl.
"No. He is a criminal."