[Interlude]
The renaissance.
The haunting beauty of the Goddesses, whose faces live frozen in the paintings, definitely hiding unknown stories.
Silent witnesses of tumultuous times, where calm and danger mingled in a deadly dance.
He grew up in the infamous neighborhoods of the Phocaean city, in the shadows of the silhouettes of these black-eyed men.
As the last rays of the day fade away, the neon lights of the blinking signs light up, shining on the narrow streets where reigns a palpable tension.
In a world where splendor and crime merge, in the invisible mirror that reflects the charm and cruelty of the human soul, the boy admired its stigmata, he admired its works of art, like scars on the skin of history.