The night is strange, as if something is about to happen. The bright full moon sits high above the night sky, akin to the pupil of an eye, seemingly the gaze of a divine being, coldly watching over the mortal earth alongside the stars.
Lorenzo stands dazed on the deserted street. He seems yet to recover from the breathtaking leap of this scene. The golden flames have scorched away all void, and then the world of memories unfolds before him.
This daze does not last long. Soon, he comes to realize these things cautiously, taking two steps forward, and then looking upon this familiar city with nostalgia and anxiety.
The buildings resemble towering spears, piercing the horizon of clouds. By day, the streets here are filled with devout believers, and at night, the prayers and holy songs never cease.
Indeed, he has done it, returned to the depths of memory, this city of faith and holiness, Seven Hills.
