The road to Rome was a scar through the heart of Italy.

The countryside that once shimmered with gold and green was now painted in shades of gray — empty villages, blackened earth, and skies that never fully cleared.

Vera sat in the back of the armored car, her eyes fixed on the horizon. She hadn’t slept in two days. Her reflection in the window looked like someone else entirely — blood still crusted near her hairline, her lips pale, her eyes hollow but burning with the kind of grief ...