Today was the second day of Elena's trip to Rome.

  Although her work as a reporter had taken her to many places, this was her first time visiting the beautiful city for a long, leisurely vacation.

  Rome welcomed her with bright sunshine and a space that felt incredibly peaceful.

  During this season, Italy exuded a vibrant beauty while still retaining the charm of centuries past.

  Taking a deep breath of the faint, sweet scent of wildflowers in the air, Elena's spirits rose even higher in anticipation of her wonderful trip.

  She followed the tour guide to Rome's famous landmark – the Ponte Sant' Angelo bridge, which spanned the green-blue Tiber River like a divide between two worlds: one side leading to the "Castle of the Angels" in the distant past, the other to a modern, bustling Rome.

  The tour group strolled along the bridge, marveling at the statues of angels that, despite centuries of change, retained their timeless beauty.

  Elena counted a total of ten statues on either side of the bridge, their reflections shimmering in the river alongside the blue sky, looking like angels soaring on high, welcoming her to this sacred place.

  Reaching out to touch one of the statues, she felt its rough, coarse texture against her palm.

  The angels' faces held a hint of melancholy, reminding her of the play "The Cenci" by the talented playwright Percy Bryce Shelley, which she had once covered for a news story.

  Beatrice Cenci – the unfortunate daughter who was abused and raped for a long time, and who, filled with hatred, plotted to kill the perpetrator, tragically, her own father, Francisco Cenci.

  But in the end, she was still sentenced to death and met her end right here on the Ponte Sant' Angelo bridge, and from then on, the poor girl's spirit lingered, weeping for herself.

  The death of Cenci became a tragic symbol of the executions of condemned prisoners in those days: those who were executed and their bodies displayed publicly on the stone bridge for centuries, and whose fresh blood had seeped deep into it.

  The coolness of the moss and stone pressed against her damp palm, like the sad tears of centuries past touching her sense of touch.

  Elena wondered if it was because they had held onto too many souls that these statues always carried a hint of melancholy.

  The tour guide began to recount the history of the castle while the tourists marveled at its ancient beauty.

  Despite being built in the middle of the second century AD and having stood for thousands of years, the Castello St Angelo still shone radiantly, like a work formed from clouds by the hand of God.

  The statue of the chariot and the ancient emperors dressed as the Sun God welcomed visitors into an atmosphere of eerie mystery. Visitors were led down a spiral staircase to visit the tomb of Emperor Hadrian and his family before touring the entire castle.

  Elena touched the ancient moss-covered wall, feeling the layers of people who had walked these steps through the ages.

  It was also here that the solid castle became the refuge of the Pope in times of danger.

  And sometimes it served as a gloomy, oppressive prison, holding hundreds of thousands of criminals.

  Whenever she thought of this, she still wondered who the truly imprisoned were: the thieves and lawbreakers, or the Hadrian royals and the upper class who had once reveled in the balls here, bound by the thorns of class that forced them to confine themselves within these flowery walls, only to wither away?

  Under the sunset glow in Rome, the Castello St Angelo curled up quietly like a graceful Persian cat.

  Elena toured all five floors, and the guide gave the visitors free time to revisit the places they liked before the group moved on to another attraction.

  Reaching out to feel the softness of the dark velvet curtains and touching the beautifully and meticulously carved gilded doors, she approached the window overlooking the Ponte Sant'Angelo stretching across the Tiber in the brilliant red-orange sky.

  It was a breathtakingly beautiful scene. The angel statues looked as if they were flapping their wings, singing a song of praise amidst the waves, reminding Elena of a myth related to this place.

  Legend has it that the Castello St Angelo bears such a majestic and beautiful name because around the year 590, when a plague was spreading, a miracle occurred here: the Archangel Michael appeared on the spire of the Emperor's mausoleum and sheathed his sword!

  This was seen as a sign of good news to end the epidemic, and soon after, everyday life returned to Rome after so much pain and loss.

  This story is still told by the locals, and everyone is filled with awe and reverence for God whenever they hear it.

  "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

  Another tourist said casually. Elena wasn't sure if he was talking to her, but she still smiled and nodded slightly.

  In this space, a faint regret for distant memories seemed to arise. She imagined royal parties with noble ladies in lace-trimmed dresses and elegant gentlemen with glasses full of wine in their hands, laughing and talking in the light of sparkling crystal chandeliers.

  It was as if they had just been here, and the thousands of years in between had passed in an instant.

  The sky over Rome was gradually turning deep purple, and the stars were beginning to emerge for a bright moonlit night. Elena exclaimed with delight and bent down to find her professional camera to capture the beautiful scene.

  The clear separation between this place and the modern, developed city outside made the space even more magical.

  Since the 2030s, the world had almost completely transformed due to the tremendous global economic growth and a series of successful scientific achievements.

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  Buildings no longer sat motionless on the ground; they could be stacked on top of each other using magnetic fields, and many large centers were built underground.

  Vehicles switched to using natural energy to operate, and clothing materials were designed along with other social innovations, making the world simpler but sometimes also more monotonous.

  Looking out the window of the ancient castle at the bustling city, Elena felt as if she were caught between two worlds.

  One was luxurious but gray and monotonous, and the other was ancient yet more vibrant than ever.

  Suddenly, the sky darkened as she looked through the lens. "It must be rain," she thought.

  But the change in the sky didn't stop there. A greenish-gray hue spread across the room, and swirling patterns began to appear in the distant clouds.

  It looked like a strange storm was coming, the clouds resembling dark purple snakes coiling around each other and writhing in pain against the sky.

  The scene was both majestic and mysterious, filling her with a tight feeling of suspense.

  Sounds of surprise echoed from the walls as the swirling black clouds gradually gathered in one place while the surrounding sky was still filled with the colors of the setting sun, creating a strange, supernatural scene.

  At the same time, many curious people below in the castle courtyard began to flock to the source of the strange phenomenon.

  The tourists present also raised their electronic devices to record this rare moment.

  "BOOM!!"

  A terrifying roar resounded everywhere. Space trembled!

  A series of witnesses suddenly fell unconscious.

  People fell like stalks of grain before a gust of wind.

  Some had seizures and trembled, while others stared wide-eyed at the swirling sky.

  Terrified screams rang out everywhere, and the panicked crowd fled like a rushing torrent.

  Another thunderous sound roared, and lightning flashed continuously across the swaying sky.

  As if heralding a terrifying moment, the flashes of light grew more frequent, accompanied by roars that sounded like Satan rising from the grave.

  Elena was frozen in place. She was too shocked to move as the sky split open from the center of the swirling black clouds!

  Amidst the blue-white flashes of lightning, a long crack appeared in the sky, stretching out like a ribbon being torn.

  The swirling black clouds continued to expand, accompanied by terrifying roars that echoed through the space.

  Despite standing within the sturdy walls of the centuries-old castle, Elena could almost feel the gusts of wind lashing against the city's rooftops with such force that they seemed to form crescent-shaped blades, ready to tear apart anything that dared to stand in their way.

  The sounds of people screaming and praying mingled together in the air, thick with panic.

  The swirling black clouds began to coil downwards like a giant funnel, extending its whirlwind towards the Vatican City.

  The moment she saw this, she felt as if she were witnessing a rare historical event, one she was fortunate enough to experience firsthand.

  Without a moment's hesitation, as if guided by fate, Elena rushed along with the chaotic crowd towards the main staircase leading to the castle gate.

  She plunged into the heart of the storm like a lone swallow braving the tempest. Fear gripped her, but the instincts of a war correspondent compelled her to get closer to the dangerous spectacle unfolding in the sky.

  The path was filled with a palpable sense of dread, so thick it felt like it could be tasted in the air.

  Gazing at the distant spire of the basilica and calculating the time based on her earlier tour, Elena made a bold decision to move faster.

  She chose a silver SUV parked on the roadside and, using an iron chair from a nearby cafe, smashed the window, employed her lock-picking skills, and drove away, much to the astonishment of its owner.

  The car weaved through obstacles and squeezed into narrow turns as she sped towards the basilica.

  She ignored the traffic lights and the standstill traffic, her focus solely on reaching her destination amidst the unfolding chaos.

  Overhead, a RAI television helicopter hovered, broadcasting the events live.

  The SUV sped underneath it, arriving just in time to witness the helicopter being struck by lightning and falling in front of the open space surrounding the basilica.

  A massive explosion erupted, and the helicopter disintegrated into pieces.

  The force of the blast nearly threw the SUV off course, but she managed to regain control.

  Elena abandoned the car a few hundred meters from the Vatican.

  She struggled to stay upright against the powerful winds as she navigated around the burning wreckage of the helicopter.

  Other news outlets had also dispatched reporters to the scene in their specialized vehicles.

  The police had begun to cordon off the area, and despite Elena flashing her press credentials, they refused to let her proceed further into the Vatican.

  Refusing to be deterred by the police blockade, Elena sprinted, searching for a gap in the line. She managed to slip through after inciting a small riot among her fellow reporters, forcing the police to intervene and creating a momentary lapse in their vigilance.

  Once out of sight of the police, Elena switched her camera to video mode and advanced towards the basilica, documenting the unfolding events.

  "What do you think you're doing? Get out of here!"

  The shout was carried away by the wind but still loud enough to reach her ears. Elena turned to see a group of soldiers dressed in tactical gear approaching her.

  Before she could respond, one of the soldiers grabbed her arm.

  Another soldier shouted at him in English with a distinct Swedish accent.

  "There's no time! Get her inside the basilica, behind the Barrier!"

  He sighed in annoyance, glared at Elena as if she were a nuisance, and then dragged her towards the entrance of the Vatican, shoving her roughly inside.

  Elena fell to the ground, her camera slipping from her grasp and hitting the stone pavement with a thud, denting its casing.

  She yelled at the soldier and snatched up her camera, relieved to see it was still recording.

  The fissure in the sky had widened considerably. Elena could now clearly see the other side, a dense, inky blackness that seemed to want to pour through the opening and engulf her world.

  She got to her feet and ran into the large courtyard of the Vatican. Bishops stood scattered throughout the area, gazing up at the strange phenomenon overhead. Unlike the panicked civilians outside, none of them seemed to show any signs of alarm.

  They appeared serious but remarkably calm, as if they had anticipated these events.

  Despite her curiosity about the priests' and bishops' demeanor, Elena's attention was drawn to the other side of the rift.

  She saw a black tentacle, ringed with debris, begin to emerge. It gripped both sides of the fissure and pulled violently, causing Elena to hear the wind shift and carry the scent of blood.

  At the same moment, the deafening sound of gunfire erupted from multiple directions. The black tentacle recoiled from the rift, whipping upwards like an octopus's arm before slamming down onto the ground below.

  Elena watched in horror as the roofs of the surrounding high-rise buildings shattered into fragments, even though the tentacle hadn't touched them.

  Panic seized her, and she wanted to turn and flee the Vatican courtyard, but inexplicably, she collided with an invisible barrier and stumbled backward.

  Elena regained her footing, reached out to touch the invisible wall in front of her, and then looked up at the sky.

  By now, the black tentacle was lashing out at the surrounding buildings, extending further and further. It wrapped around a large skyscraper and snapped it in half, hurling it towards the Vatican.

  The desperate screams of hundreds of people echoed in her ears. Elena wanted to run, but fear paralyzed her.

  She watched in horror as the people in the skyscraper screamed, their lives extinguished the moment the monster's tentacle reached their building. The height of the fall ensured their doom.