Chương 60: Chapter 59: Fides et Flamma

They spent the next few hours in motion. A second run to the Quadrilaterato, then south to reinforce one of Ruggiero's squads. Three more skirmishes. No losses. By the time the countdown was under an hour, they were back at Palazzo Valperga, debriefing in the command center. Cecilia stood by the wall of projections, listening as Ruggiero reported his results from Mirafiori.

His squad had maintained control of their assigned sector, had successfully disrupted two attempts by smaller groups to push in from the north, and had secured a secondary cache of rare supplies.

"I told you he'd do fine," she said to Bianca when Ruggiero finished. Bianca didn't smile, but the slight relaxation in her shoulders was answer enough. Dario came in last, his jacket missing, a smear of ash on one sleeve. He dropped into the empty chair with a loose shrug, looking tired but pleased.

"Superga's a mess," he said.

"We didn't get the high ground, but I convinced two of the bigger groups to hit each other instead of coming after me, so I'm calling it a win." He glanced at the nexus node on the table in front of Cecilia.

"Is that our trophy for the day?"

"One of them," she replied.

"The rest are scattered, but it's been productive."

"Good," Dario said, leaning back.

"Because I've got something for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, torn from some flyer or bulletin board.

"What is it?" He unfolded it, revealing a rough drawing: a circle with a stylized flame inside.

"Where did you get this?" she asked.

"At Superga. The Basilica's still the main show. Lots of groups, lots of noise. I found this at one of the crypts. There was something nasty inside that didn't like fire, and this was on the board outside." He pushed it across the table.

"Familiar?" She picked it up, looking at the lines, the careful shape of the flame. Her eyes narrowed.

"Fiamma et Eterna."

"Yeah. That's what it looks like, right?" It did. It was the same motif as the one on the document Matteo had pulled from the state archives: Fides et flamma. The connection felt certain, the shape too close to be a coincidence.

"Did you see anyone?" she asked.

"No. Just the tags. But something felt... different about that area. Like it was being left alone, on purpose. No one wanted to mess with it."

"Who were the groups you saw there?"

"Some known faces. Nothing organized, though. Mercs and small gangs." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"I'd guess whatever group that belongs to either avoided the fight entirely or let someone else handle the dirty work while they did something else. Which, frankly, sounds like the kind of crew we need to meet." She folded the paper and slid it into her jacket pocket.

"You're not wrong. Did anyone claim Superga?"

"Not outright. It's still contested, but everyone's too bloodied to hold it solid." Dario shrugged.

"We could have pushed, but I thought we'd made enough noise for today."

"You did the right thing. If someone from Fiamma was active there, I'd rather find them on my own terms." Matteo, who had been quiet through the exchange, cleared his throat, drawing her attention.

"There are two matters I should report before the day closes."

"Go on."

"First, a message was sent to the deputy mayor's office through unofficial channels. The phrasing was vague, but the content was a request for the Leonellis to formally coordinate with municipal emergency response." He glanced at Dario.

"They're looking for legitimacy by association." Dario chuckled, shaking his head.

"Amateurs."

"They don't need us for that," Cecilia said.

"We don't have the numbers or the mandate. If they're looking for someone to prop them up, they're looking in the wrong place."

"I told them as much." Matteo didn't look bothered.

"I also suggested they could share information without any formal agreement, and I made clear we would share back when it was mutually beneficial."

"That's generous," Dario noted.

"It's pragmatic. They're useful as a conduit, even if they're not partners." Matteo pushed his glasses up.

"The second matter is more interesting. The archives responded to our query about Fiamma et Eterna." Cecilia leaned forward slightly.

"And?"

"The file is classified. But it was reclassified decades ago. There's a standing request that predates our own inquiry, but the origin of that request was scrubbed."

"That means someone else has been looking into them for a long time."

"Yes. The timing suggests the reclassification coincided with the group's supposed dissolution. Which leads me to believe they didn't dissolve at all." Cecilia considered that. A secret organization that didn't dissolve, but made it look like they had. A standing inquiry hidden in government records. A symbol left at a site no one else would touch.

"You think they're still active," she said. Matteo nodded.

"And they've been careful enough to avoid any public footprint for decades. If they've started revealing themselves now, it's because they want to be seen."

"Or someone forced them," Dario offered, but he didn't sound convinced. Cecilia stood, pacing a circle around the table. The System had brought chaos, but it had also brought clarity to certain things. Players were making plays for power, institutions that didn't comply were falling, and somewhere in the region, a group no one knew had known the apocalypse was coming before it happened. That kind of foresight wasn't luck. Matteo looked at her as she passed his chair.

"Do we investigate, or wait for them to come to us?" The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Her instincts were pulling her forward. The mystery of Fiamma had been waiting for weeks, and now, after a scenario where it had left visible marks, her patience felt like a liability. Yet she wasn't sure if approaching them now would force a reaction she wasn't ready for. She didn't want to scare them deeper into hiding.

"We gather more information. Discreetly. I'm not going to announce ourselves over a symbol on a wall." She glanced at Dario.

"You've made contacts in those fringe groups. Keep listening. And next time you go near the Basilica, watch for signs. Someone is leaving messages, and I want to know why." Dario raised a hand, the one with ash still on the sleeve.

"I'm in for that. I've never said no to a mysterious shadow organization. It sounds like fun."

"It's not for fun." But she let the smile show just enough for him to know she didn't mind his saying it.

"One more thing," Matteo said, as she was about to call the meeting to a close.

"Bernardo reported a possible scout near the palazzo this morning. The man was observing, but retreated when our squads went out. I'm having him review the surveillance footage to see if we can identify him." Cecilia paused.

"Was it one of the groups we pushed at Porta Nuova?"

"Unclear. But the behavior suggests a professional. He didn't engage. He observed and left. If it was a probe, it was a disciplined one." She made a note of it. Another thread, but it was connected to the same problem. The Family was getting attention. The kind that didn't come from Players looking for loot, but from people who were used to watching before acting.

"Tell Bernardo to alert all guards to double-check their routes and rotations. Ruggiero, how's Elia coming along with her training?" Ruggiero, who had been leaning against the wall, arms folded, straightened.

"She's sharp. Her aura reading gives us a heads-up before most things become visible. Still green in combat, but she's learning fast."

"Good. Pair her with Bernardo tomorrow. I want her involved in the security review." She returned to her spot at the head of the table, looking at the nexus node in its case, the scrap of paper in her pocket, and the city still alive outside the windows. The scenario was almost over. The next one would come, and the next one after that. Each time, they would learn a little more about what was beneath Turin's surface. Fiamma et Eterna was one of those things. Maybe the most important one.

She let her hand rest on the edge of the case.

"Rest," she told the room.

"We've done enough today." No one argued. They rose, gathered their things, and filed out, Bianca lingering for a moment at her side, as she always did.

"You skipped breakfast again," Bianca said.

"I didn't. It's still early."

"You were up before dawn."

"So were you." Bianca gave her a look, part amused, part annoyed.

"You know what I mean." Cecilia shrugged, but there was no real energy in the gesture. She knew. Bianca was right. She was running herself too thin, even if she could afford it. It had become a habit, pushing a little further every day, because the moment she stopped, the weight of all the questions she hadn't answered yet would settle over her. But the questions would be there either way. Better to be busy.

"I'll eat something now," she said, which was a compromise, and she knew it. Bianca didn't push it. She followed her into the kitchen, where Cecilia took a plate from the cooling rack, the food already prepared by the palazzo staff. It was simple: bread, cheese, and prosciutto. Nothing fancy. She didn't trust her appetite for more than that. As she ate, Bianca sat across from her, watching without speaking, a habit Cecilia had learned to accept over the years. Bianca didn't need to fill silence.

She just sat in it, comfortably, as if she belonged there. And she did.

"What's the real plan?" Bianca finally asked.

"The plan?"

"With the shadow group. You're not just going to wait for them." Cecilia swallowed the last of her bread.

"I don't think we can find them if we hunt. If they want to stay hidden, they're better at it than we are at finding. So I'll make sure they can find us. When they're ready."

"Because they want to be found."

"Eventually. Yes. They're revealing themselves slowly. That means they want control over the timing of when we talk." Cecilia leaned back, crossing her arms.

"But they're not the only ones with leverage. The more territory we secure, the more influence we have in this city. The harder it becomes for anyone, including them, to ignore us." Bianca considered that, then nodded slowly.

"You're setting the table."

"I'm making sure the invitation comes from both sides." Cecilia stood, pushing the plate away.

"I'll see you later." Bianca rose with her, a half-smile tugging at her lips.

"You always do." Luca returned to the basement after the meeting, still keyed up from the adrenaline of the morning. He hadn't done much during the scenario. Most of the time, he'd been in the van, feeding intel to Cecilia over the radio, tracking the squad's progress, and watching the broader data unfold in real time. But he'd seen enough to know he wasn't cut out for fieldwork. The close calls, the sharp decisions—that was her world, not his. He pushed the door to the workspace open and stopped in his tracks.

What greeted him looked like the aftermath of an all-night study session that lasted until mid-morning—which, technically, it had. Ivan was sprawled in a chair, a half-empty soda in hand, his feet propped up on a desk. Ermilio was bent over a workstation, typing one-handed while the other held a sandwich. Giulia was hunched over a table littered with spare parts, her focus entirely on the half-finished device in front of her.

Lorena was seated at her own terminal, her posture stiff and proper as ever, but her eyes were red-rimmed. And Iris. Face first on the floor. She wasn't moving. Luca stared for a moment.

"Is she... dead?"

"Only asleep," Lorena replied, not looking up.

"She fell over an hour ago and decided the floor was fine."

"Why is no one helping her?"

"Because we know better," Ivan said, grinning around his soda.

"She bites." Luca stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He walked over to Iris, crouched down, and nudged her shoulder with his foot. She mumbled something incomprehensible, then rolled over, blinking at him like she was waking up in a new dimension.

"Scenario's over," Luca said.

"We can all go to bed now." Iris sat up, rubbing her face.

"I don't like beds. Beds are for normal people."

"You're the only abnormal one here," Ivan offered. She gave him a tired glare, then pushed herself up, wobbling slightly.

"I'm hungry." Luca sighed, reaching for his phone.

"I'll call for something."

"Get the place on Via Po," Ivan suggested.

"They deliver."

"No. Not them. They take too long."

"You're the one who's too slow," Iris muttered, stumbling toward the couch. She collapsed onto it, pulling a blanket that had been draped over the back over herself. Luca looked at the others.

"Are we okay?" Ermilio shrugged, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"We're functional." Giulia didn't look up.

"I'm close on the new shield mod. Another hour." Ivan raised his soda in a mock toast.

"We're all good, boss." Luca shook his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself. They started as strangers only a couple of months ago, and now they were... this. A chaotic, brilliant mess that somehow kept working. It reminded him of the guilds he used to run in games: late-night pushes, shared victories, the weird, comfortable rhythm that came from too much time in the same voice chat. He typed in the order for food, then walked over to his desk, sitting down heavily.

His eyes moved to the map of Turin on the main screen, still tracking the final movements of the day. He pulled up the System overlay, letting the data wash over him in a calming stream of numbers and updates. His stats, his gear, the new information from the nexus node they'd captured. It felt like a pause between battles. The next wave would come, the next escalation. But for now, they'd held their ground.

And Iris, who had fallen asleep on the floor, mumbled something in her sleep that sounded suspiciously like a complaint about pizza crusts. Luca leaned back in his chair and smiled at the ceiling. Yeah, they were okay. More than okay.