As the sunset, they arrived back at headquarters. The air seemed cleaner than it had been, but the scent of blood and gunpowder that clung to their clothes wouldn't leave them, as if it were a part of their bodies.
Dim lights barely illuminated the area, casting a weak glow on the walls, revealing Daniel sitting on one of the benches. His legs were crossed, a book in his hands, and a calm smile was on his lips, as if the whole world had stopped for him.
But the peace didn't last. When he saw the injured André, and when he didn't see any sign of Logi or Armanda, his features changed immediately. The smile vanished, replaced by a cold, hard look, and his face became more frozen than ever before.
He closed the book and put it aside, a simple movement but imbued with authority and decision. "What…? Logi and Armanda are dead?" Daniel's voice was low, charged with astonishment and concern, each word of it cutting through the air like a cold knife.
"I don't think my mission is any of your business, Daniel. They were weak, so it's only natural that they died," Enzo replied coldly, his voice devoid of any feeling of regret, growing heavier with each word.
Daniel nodded, then dropped his final word without hesitation: "Oh… really!" He stood up suddenly, and his steps became balanced, confident, as if the earth itself was yielding to him as he approached Enzo.
"Hmm… they died because they were weak, then?" Daniel said, his voice growing sharper, each word dripping with defiance. "But I don't think so. I don't think the reason they died was their weakness… it's you! You're the weak one, Enzo Fieri! You couldn't protect a small team! Do you really think you're strong?!"
Enzo's face changed in an instant. The veins in his neck stretched, his face became as hard as rock, his eyes gleaming with unprecedented anger. He grabbed his weapon from his waist with amazing speed, raising it towards Daniel as if he wanted to unleash all his anger in a single moment.
"How dare you, you damned blond!" Enzo shouted, his voice piercing the air, every tone in it a living threat, ready to explode at any moment.
Daniel raised his hand slowly, reaching for a cigarette, spinning it between his fingers slowly, as if he was toying with it to show his coolness and sarcasm. A cold smile drew on his lips, full of deadly calm, and the dim lights reflected on his face, adding to his prestige and provocation. "Blond! I think you've gone colorblind, too." He spoke the words slowly, each letter dripping with sarcasm and danger at the same time.
Before Enzo could respond, a voice echoed in the arena, heavy, deep, imbued with prestige and authority. The voice was different, distinct, imposing its presence without any effort. Everyone stopped immediately. The tension in the air around them lessened for a moment, silent but charged. There was no doubt in the eyes, in the feeling, in every muscle: this was Don Dante's voice.
Enzo stepped back respectfully, while Daniel continued to look at André calmly, his eyes watching every inch of his tired body, every breath he took. He noticed how André leaned his body against one of the pillars to rest a little, as if the tiredness itself was bearing witness to his suffering.
Then Daniel turned slowly towards Don Dante, who approached with careful steps, as usual, holding his cigarette between his fingers. His sharp eyes passed over Enzo with a stinging look, burning every challenge in his heart, then turned slowly towards Daniel. A calmer look, but charged with warning, silent but strong enough to stop any recklessness. "Enough of this foolishness."
Then Don Dante turned to André, exhausted, and raised his hand in a short, firm gesture: "And instead of this… treat this idiot's wounds immediately."
But his words didn't carry any good intentions, but rather a blatant malice dripping from every letter, leaving a heavy effect in the air, as if the air itself had become charged with the poison of his coldness.
Then he followed his words with an even colder voice, sharp, not allowing any objection or discussion, every tone in it making whoever heard it feel that he was under absolute surveillance. "After his wounds are treated, let him clean the entire arena. No rest until he's finished. This is punishment for just being a failure."
The phrases weren't just orders, but were a slap to dignity, an arrow embedded in every breath of André, reminding him of all his weakness, and all his failure, and every feeling of helplessness that was flowing in his chest now.
"Your order, I will supervise it myself," Enzo answered with clear submission, his voice devoid of any challenge, as if he was yielding to the prestige of Don Dante.
Don Dante turned to leave, his steps and features overflowing with pride and confidence, until he stopped suddenly… because of that sound.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
They were faint but repeated blows, coming from the small André, his fist slamming into the ground repeatedly, each blow screaming with suppressed anger, and his eyes gleaming with a madness that no one had ever known before.
Everyone froze, even Daniel couldn't help himself from being amazed. He didn't know if André was getting angry, or if his small mind had completely lost its balance.
André smiled slightly, his laughter faint at first, but it began to rise gradually, transforming into a louder, more powerful voice, a mixture of madness and the small anger that hadn't been treated yet.
Don Dante tilted his head slightly, without turning his body, and his piercing eyes pierced André with a sharp look, making the whole place stop for a moment, as if silence had become higher than any sound.
André began to grab the pillar to lean on it, dragging his heavy and weak body on the ground until he stood up. Every movement was difficult, every step carried the weight of his small body burdened with pain and fear, but he refused to bend completely.
His voice came out broken at first, confused between fatigue and anger, then it began to become clearer gradually, a nervous sarcastic tone mixing with the boldness that no one had expected from a child his age: "I think I understand now… you're scum, nothing more."
And as soon as his body straightened completely, he raised his trembling finger towards Enzo, his eyes didn't leave Don Dante, torches of madness igniting inside him, gleaming in his sight like small sparks of fire threatening to explode at any moment.
He screamed, a scream that mingled with his small laughs, broken at first then extending, filling it with a tone of defiance that no one had expected from a child his age: "You… you're even worse than that filth!"
Everyone's gazes froze on him. Daniel felt the danger of the situation, he tried to move, to do something to stop André before things escalated, but the silence weighed down the place.
Enzo growled violently, his voice thundering in the arena, cutting the air like lightning: "What are you saying, you damned brat?!"
But André didn't back down. He looked at him with a mocking look, a faint laugh broke from his lips despite the pain that was tearing his small body: "I don't think you're deaf… you heard me well. So know one thing: I'm never afraid of you… I'm not afraid of anyone."
But I'm afraid… I'm afraid… André thought, his small heart beating rapidly, his body was gripped by fear, but he refused to surrender.
Enzo lunged, roaring with anger, wanting to pounce on André, but one movement from Don Dante's hand was enough to stop him in his place.
Don Dante threw his cigarette on the ground and crushed it with his shoe, then began to step with heavy and angry steps, each step filling the place with awe that made the air itself grow heavier, as if the walls themselves were holding their breaths.
Daniel's eyes followed him coldly, mixed with a faint anger, knowing Dante's wickedness well, but he didn't move a muscle, as if the air itself had become heavy under his surveillance. No… don't come closer… the words echoed in André's head, his small heart beating rapidly, his body was shaking, but his eyes didn't leave Dante, and his small pulse insisted on facing the danger despite everything.
Then came the movement. A violent punch launched towards his face. Everything shook, the pain seeped into his whole body, his brain was ringing, but he didn't fall. He didn't throw himself on the ground.
A small scream escaped from his lips, followed by a broken laugh, a mixture of pain and anger and surprise. Everything around him became foggy, but he felt one thing constant: he didn't want to give up, not now, not to anyone.
Then Dante lunged, one knee aimed at his stomach directly. The air was pulled from his chest suddenly, a wave of pain swept through his small body, saliva flowed from his mouth involuntarily, every breath became impossible.
Dante didn't give him a chance to catch his breath. Before he could regain any balance, another punch came, strong, quick, shaking his whole body, then he fell to the ground, silent, broken, everything around him becoming foggy, and every sense of security fading in one moment.
André tried to cover his head with his arms, wrapping his small body as if that could protect him from the blows, but the pain was gnawing at every cell in his body non-stop, igniting in his bones and muscles with every movement.
Dante's voice rose suddenly, angry, domineering, his voice filling the arena and piercing the air like a sharp knife: "Learn! How to speak, you lowly insect…"
And as soon as Dante finished his words, a strong kick came, hitting his body, throwing him far away to collide with the pillar. The pillar was carrying a kerosene lantern hanging, swinging silently above their heads.
With the impact of the body, the lantern shook violently, then broke free from its hook and fell directly on his André's head… The glass shattered and its shards scattered on his skin contaminated with gunpowder residue. One moment only… then a part of his face ignited suddenly, the fire seeping into his skin, the pain gnawing at every nerve and muscle, his small body writhing helplessly, and a scream mixed with terror, shock, and the burning heat coming out of him involuntarily.
André began to hit himself madly, slapping his face and rubbing his body on the ground, trying to put out the fire that had devoured part of his skin. His small body writhing helplessly, a mixture of flame, sweat, and blood, every sense of security fading in one moment, and every moment was like a full lifetime of terror.
Daniel ran quickly, approaching like a storm, snatched a bucket at the end of the arena that the guards used to wash off sweat after training, and poured it over André without hesitation. The cold water shocked his body, immediately eased the fire, but didn't stop the scream.
Then Daniel hugged him immediately, his body protecting him from everything around him, trying to ease the pain and torment, while André was shaking, his heart filled with terror, and the heat was leaving its mark on his skin, but he felt for the first time something that resembled safety, even if only for a short moment.
Dante didn't show any remorse on his features, as if what had happened was just a simple punishment, a passing event that didn't deserve any attention. He turned slowly, lit his cigarette quietly, inhaled the smoke as if he was savoring the moment, then moved with steady and calm steps, as if the earth itself was responding to every step.
Then he delivered his final order in a faint but authority-filled voice: "Take him to the dark room, punish him. No food, no drink until he comes to his senses."
Those words ignited Daniel's anger in a way that no one had ever seen before. His voice rose, sharp and terrifying: "Dante Damian!"
Dante's steps froze, turning to him with a cold look, but something of surprise gleamed in his eyes, while Enzo stood stunned, unable to believe what he had heard.
"I've seen you hurt a lot of people and I didn't speak… but today, you hurt a child… are you aware that he's a child?"
Dante smiled a cold smile, not shaking despite Daniel's anger, as if everything for him was just a small detail. "I don't care," he said without any hesitation, then continued his way as if nothing had happened.
"It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!" André screamed, his voice coming out distorted with pain. Damn… my face! Every cell in my body hurts, the fire is gnawing inside me without mercy. Damn this!
André's thoughts were rising and falling in a mad chaos, tangling and colliding non-stop, every part of him was groaning with pain. He grabbed his hair tightly, trying to ease something of the torment, but he knew well that it was useless. The fire hadn't just burned his face… but had sunk its fangs into his soul, devouring every sense of security, and making his small heart writhing between terror and pain.
Then came Daniel's voice, calm but firm, cutting the turbulent chaos in his head: "I'll get a doctor, so hang in there a little."
The words didn't stop the fire, but patted the chaos of his mind for a moment, a weak but real feeling of safety, that there was someone seeking to save him, even if the pain was still gnawing at his body without mercy.
Daniel pointed to two guards who were standing at the end of the arena, his voice low but charged with authority: "Take him… I'll go get a doctor."
The guards moved quickly, grabbing André gently by his arms, carrying him carefully, while his small body couldn't resist and surrendered.
Daniel approached with quick steps, his face stern, his eyes focused completely on André. "Wait for me… I'll go get a doctor." Daniel whispered, his voice firm but calm, trying to impart something of safety to André's trembling heart.
But André didn't hear, he couldn't hear anything but the ringing, the dizziness, and the pain of his skin. Everything around him became foggy, even the guards looked like shadows passing around him. His body was trembling, his screams were mingling with the echo of the internal pain, trying to understand what was happening to him, to catch his breath amidst the chaos that was engulfing him.
Daniel stepped back for a few seconds, with his eyes on André, as if they were trying to assess every pulse of pain and every vibration in his small body. Every second stretched out very slowly, every heartbeat of André felt by the earth itself.
Then Daniel moved away towards the outside, his voice and his silence together leaving the arena filled with the heavy emptiness, as if everything had stopped for a moment.
In the moment Daniel left, Enzo seized the opportunity immediately. He raised his voice, his face without any sympathy, and ordered the guards: "Take him… to the dark room."
André felt every beat in his heart, his small body was trembling, his head was still ringing, the dizziness was wrapping around every sensation. He could no longer resist, every muscle of him exhausted, every feeling of helplessness magnifying with every step the guards dragged him in.