Milan — Underground beneath the Palazzo di Giustizia
Time seemed to shrink.
The small improvised detonator ticked softly, each beat echoing like a war drum in the pounding hearts of Vera, Luca, and the resistance fighters.
The explosion wasn't meant to destroy the building.
It was to crack open the safe.
And they had less than thirty seconds.
Vera pulled Luca back, shielding him behind a metal shelf.
The others pressed themselves against the walls, weapons drawn, bracing for the worst.
From the corridor, the guards' voices grew louder.
— They're here! — someone shouted.
Time bled away like blood through open hands.
— GET DOWN! — Vera yelled.
A second later, the safe exploded with a muffled boom.
Shards of iron and paper flew across the room.
Dust filled the air, blinding them for a moment.
When Vera opened her eyes, she saw the broken interior of the safe.
Documents.
Contracts.
Photographs.
Signed orders.
Proof.
All the corruption finally laid bare.
She rushed to the safe, grabbing as many folders as she could stuff into her backpack.
Enzo and Luca helped, coughing through the swirling smoke.
From the corridor, the first gunshots rang out.
The group had only seconds left.
With their backpacks bulging and lungs burning, Vera shouted:
— THIS WAY!
They sprinted toward a secondary passage marked on Luca's old map.
This wasn't just an escape.
It was history breaking free of its chains.