Two days have passed, and things are back to normal.
We have been taken down like amateurs (but maybe it’s what we are, amateurs that try to fight a world of professional assassins), but all the damage that Turned seemed to inflict to us was cured in no time. Two days of rest, and even Danny, which was the one in worst shape, is now restored to full capacity. It has been extremely painful for him, but morphing his bust to an octopus one, and then back to human, cured totally his broken rib.
Now we are training under the big top. Training is what we need. Not only for our show, but especially to be able to use our powers and to work together. What has happened two days ago will never happen a second time. I swear.
This morning, during a pause in our exercise, I took a little tour of the city.
Thunder. I wonder where the town derived its name. Its’s a big, grey city, always sunken in a thick layer of fog, spreading from the bay. My city, Bologna, in Italy, was similar, with dense mist for all the winter. But while there it was a cold, humid mantle, here is warm and suffocating, definitely unbearable, almost evil in its ubiquity.
Strange.
Really strange.
But I had a definite aim in my wandering.
TriVex.
It is a giant building, emerging out of the waters of the bay. Grey as the rest of the city, the building seems the guardian watching over the whole place. The citizens, all slaves.
There, somewhere in the ugly skyscraper, is caged my son.
