Milan — Observation Tower
Smoke from the city rose in black spirals against the orange sky of dawn.
Vera, Luca, Enzo, and the leaders of the smaller resistance groups gathered on the cold concrete floor of the abandoned tower.
In the center, spread over crates and old barrels, lay the most important map of the revolution.
The target: the provisional headquarters of the corrupt authority, set up in the old Palazzo di Giustizia.
It was from there that orders for repression were issued.
It was from there that false news was fabricated.
It was from there they still tried to control the city.
— If we take them down there — Luca said, his voice rough but firm — Milan will know we've already won.
Vera nodded.
It was risky.
Almost suicidal.
But it was necessary.
— We'll divide our forces — Vera explained. — A diversion at Piazza Fontana. Another at Corso di Porta Romana. And while they're distracted, a small team will enter through the archives sector, from below.
Enzo frowned.
— And if they catch us?
Vera looked at him with the unflinching resolve of someone who had already lost everything.
— Then we'll fall fighting. But the city will know we never knelt.
The group fell silent.
Then, one by one, they nodded.
Without fear.
Without regret.
That morning, as the sun rose over ruins and hope, Milan prepared to witness the blow that would change its history forever.