Destiny is always intertwined, mysterious, unpredictable. From the country to the individual, from nobility to commoners, who is the web, who is the fire? Who is the moth, and who is struggling?
The ultimate question of all destinies can only be answered by time. And right now, two thousand meters away from the meeting between Bruno and Nuno, in the underground of the Lisbon Prison, in a dark cell crawling with webs and insects, two moths born of commoners, struggling desperately, intertwine once more, one in light, one in darkness...
"Columbus, it's mealtime!"
"Dear sir! ...What is this?... Is this...?..."
Seeing a ragged Columbus, gaunt and dull, who suddenly shivered all over, his face once again showing deep fear at the sight of a plate of roast meat, a plate of soft white bread, a jug of milk, and a bottle of red wine brought by a jailer.
