Rome, Catacombs of San Callisto — Monday, 10:15 a.m.
Rebeca, Elías, and Lucas descended a spiral staircase that smelled of centuries of
humidity and prayer.
"Why here?" Rebeca asked.
"Because beneath Rome lies the only copy of the Liber Sigillorum Vivorum, the Book of
the Living Seals," Elías replied. "The Dominicans hid it in 1312, after the dissolution of
the Templars."
They reached a crypt closed off by a rusted iron gate. Elías took out an ancient key and
opened it.
Inside, on a stone altar, rested a book bound in human skin.
Elías opened it reverently.
Page after page, names written in dried blood. And at the end, seven hand-drawn
portraits.
Six were crossed out with a red X.
The seventh was Rebeca's face, drawn with impossible precision. Beneath it, in Latin:
"Ultimum Sigillum portat mulier de Damasci conversa.
Si moritur ante tempus, Apocalypsis retardatur.
Si vivit usque Patmos, Apocalypsis incipit."
Lucas touched the portrait."It tells the truth… but it also lies," he whispered.
"You are not going to open the seal.
You are going to decide who opens it."