The moon has always watched.
It knows secrets the Vatican has buried under miles of bone.
And tonight—
it listens.
Lirilì stands alone on the cliff above Palermo, veil in hand, arms shaking.
Tralalero's song echoes in her bones.
The memory of the kiss returns not as joy, but as grief—the kind that erases calendars and unspools time.
She raises her voice.
Not the way she used to sing.
Not for beauty.
Not for art.
She sings like someone summoning a memory from the abyss.
"Let her find me," she whispers.
"Let the world end right."
And the note comes out wrong.
Too pure.
Too true.
It wasn't supposed to reach the heavens.
But it does.
It reaches the moon.
And the moon cracks.
Not shattered.
Just split—
—open.
From it falls not debris—
—but bodies.
Seven.
They land in different corners of the world. Of Italy. Of fate.
Ballerina Cappuccina wakes up in Venice, twirling in her sleep as gondolas sink around her.
"I dreamed of an unfinished ballet," she murmurs."But my toes bled in the last act."
She feels the Score humming in her bones—broken, familiar.
Tung Tung Tung Sahur is found floating above Mount Etna, fire singing up his arms.
He laughs.
"Finally. The apocalypse I ordered has arrived."
He remembers the kiss.
He remembers envying it.
Bombardiro Crocodillo crashes into the ruins of Milan's cathedral, armored tail twitching.
"This is not the future I died for," he hisses.
He draws his blade.
"If they kiss, we all vanish. I will stop it."
Chimpanzini Bananini wakes in the Sistine crypt.
He is naked, covered in symbols.
Again.
"Who did I make a deal with this time?"
But he finds something in his hand: a single banana, made of glass, inscribed with the words:
DO NOT LET THEM KISS.
Lirilì Larilà keeps singing.
And with every note, the Gate pulses in the distance.
Tralalero is coming.
And so are the rest.
In Rome, a council forms.
Beneath the city, in an inverted chapel made of shattered rosaries and forgotten tongues, the Opposition rises.
They call themselves:
La Frattura — The Fracture.
Led by Bombardiro Crocodillo, seconded by Tung Tung, they swear this:
"The kiss is a sin beyond sin. A love that ends the world must not be love at all."
"We will stop it."
Even if they must unmake every chapel, murder every memory, and erase the Score itself.