Naples has always been halfway in hell.
Below the city sleeps the Gate — ancient, circular, humming with unsung verses.And tonight, it opens.
The world knows it.
The stars adjust course.
The streets begin reshaping toward it.
Pigeons gather on rooftops to watch.
Every major player is drawn to the city not by will, but by melody.By the Score's gravity.
Tralalero Tralala awakens on a train moving toward Naples.
No one else is aboard.
Only her reflection sits across from her.
And it speaks.
"The first kiss cracked the Score."
"The second will choose what comes next."
"Are you willing to become a god? Or a ruin?"
She doesn't answer.
But she holds Lirilì's scarf like a prayer.
Lirilì Larilà is already in Naples.
Her voice is gone.
She used it to scream at the wind when Tralalero disappeared again.
Now she sings through breath, through movement, through memory.
She waits beside the ruined Teatro di San Carlo.
"If she doesn't come, I'll walk into the Gate alone," she says."If she does, we walk in together."
Ballerina Cappuccina arrives barefoot.
Her slippers burned away the moment the prophecy changed.
She has not chosen a side.
Her final dance has not yet been choreographed.
But her body is full of violent beauty. Every movement alters weather.
She weeps without sound.
"If I dance for love, the world dies soft."
"If I dance for duty, the world survives hollow."
"What is mercy, if not timing?"
Bombardiro Crocodillo and Tung Tung Tung Sahur arrive together, like rage in duet.
They come armored in stolen scripture and black-glass blades.
"We stop the kiss," says Bombardiro."We stop the choice."
"They never earned this ending," Tung Tung spits."Let them break like the rest of us."
Chimpanzini Bananini arrives late.
On a bicycle.
Wearing a crown of spaghetti.
He crashes into a statue, stands up, and screams:
"I FORGOT WHAT SIDE I'M ON!"
Then finds a note in his sock:
Don't choose yet. You're the coin, not the hand.
Capuchino Assassino returns last.
He climbs out of the crypt beneath the city, face painted in black ink and forgotten psalms.
He carries the Last Knife — forged from the spine of the first singer.
"If they kiss, I use this."
"But not to stop them."
"To make sure it means something."
Now they all stand in Naples.
The city folds inward around the Gate.
The Score shudders.
And in the center of the Piazza, two girls see each other again.
No guards.
No walls.
No rain.
Just two souls.
And every god and monster who ever loved anything—
—watching.