Rome, Italy, 1940

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The following is translated from Italian to English

"Spítha, are you sure LaPara will let us off early tomorrow?" Gianna, who had just returned to the outer Campus of the University with two coffees, questioned. It was far too late, even later for a cafe to be open, and her classmate Dennis Walker Jones was at work, stuffing his head into a book of Greek Myths, or, the last one he could find ever since books on such topic got removed from libraries.

"This is the only chance we can get closer to the Door, Gia." Sparky muttered, "Besides, I'm almost done."

"Almost? You haven't seen a snippet on the Door, have you, Spítha?"

Silence.

"It's gotta be in here somewhere."

"Relax. It's not like anyone's pressuring you to find it." Gianna sat next to her classmate, sipping some coffee, "You're only putting this on yourself."

"Dr. LaPara would want us to finish this before finals."

"That's what you said last year." Gianna smirked, "That was before you had me."

"Yeah, well, you haven't been much of a help ever since we got that lead on the Instruments-" Sparky pulled up a picture of the infamous Gong of Strength, "Take a look at this gong. Okay?"

Gianna squinted, rolling her eyes. "It's a metal sphere, Spítha, what do you want me to see?"

"No, no, no... Notice anything weird about the Gong?"

"It's small?"

"Yes, but-" Sparky ran his fingers over the picture, looking down on it again, "There's no mallet."

"So? It might be out of frame."

"Who would separate a gong from its mallet?"

"I dunno, history?" Gianna shrugged, her fingers reaching up to her neck to fidget with her pendant. It was a family heirloom, and it was part of the reason why her professor, Dr. Milo LaPara, held her back so she could work with this former Freshman on the Door of Reflection. The pendant was part of the legend, she knew that, but she couldn't tell what the pendant was. Sure, it was heavy, but she learned to adjust. She always wore it, just like she promised her late father. But where would it fit in this legend?

"It doesn't make sense." Sparky sighed.

"You know what also doesn't make sense? Why the moon's in the sky and your head's held high. Get some sleep." She closed the book in front of him, "We have exams."

"Gia-"

"Don't Gia me, Dennis." She shot back playfully, "I'm only looking out for you. LaPara won't mind us waiting for one more year on this discovery."

"I think he would."

"Do you think your father became one of the most notorious adventurers with sleepless nights and useless study sessions?" She put her hands on her hips.

A deadpan glare from Sparky.

Ah.

"Bad example, I know, but still." Gianna helped Sparky up, holding the large Greek Myth book in one hand as she handed him his pen, "We're not our fathers, but we are ourselves. And we must take care of ourselves, Spítha." She tapped on her pendant, "We carry the torch."

"You make no sense sometimes."

"That makes two of us!"

Sparky chuckled despite himself, taking the pen from her hands and hesitantly letting her have the book in her grasp. He then pointed to the pendant, "Why would your father want you to lug that thing around? Must be a struggle on the neck."

"Ah, my Padre never specified, but I know it's about the door." Gianna grinned, holding the pendant out a bit, "See the carvings? The engravings?" She pointed to some of the symbols, "I translated them with LaPara my freshman year. They all talk about the Instruments. About the Door. At this point, I keep this for good luck."

Sparky's eyes lit up, briefly touching the unique piece of history before arching back, stumbling a bit. A faint hiss erupted from the contact.

"OW!"

"Spítha!" Gianna arched forward, helping her friend up mid-air, "What happened?"

"I don't know..." Sparky grunted, looking down at his hand.

"Here, your pen." Gianna picked up the fallen writing utensil, which feebly fell from Sparky's grasp as she attempted to hand it back. It was almost as if his hand was... Weaker.

"Ow." Sparky flexed his hand, "Sorry, sorry, sorry..."

"That's why we need sleep." She placed the pen into her pocket and helped Sparky- who, despite his hand, still maintained some form of strength throughout his body.

As they arrived to Sparky's small house (that Gianna had helped pay for), Sparky couldn't even operate the doorknob with his right hand, he had to use his left.

"My left hand's fine..." He muttered, turning around to take the pen with his left hand, "It's just my right."

"That was... Weird. I mean, I've touched this..." Gianna examined her pendant, "But never anybody else."

"If..." Sparky pointed the best he could with his right hand, "If it's still like this when I wake up, can you tell Dr. LaPara I'm home sick?"

"Sure."

Sparky then closed the door, the curtains immediately closing. Poor kid.

Gianna looked down at her pendant, tucking it into her shirt. No wonder her father was so protective of it while he was alive. It held power.

But that's when she looked at it closer... The symbols... The imagery... She then looked back at the book. Then the picture of the gong that Sparky had miraculously left with her.

She then walked away.

* * * *

Gianna had walked to campus by herself the next day- the first red flag, of course.

Is his hand seriously still injured?

She had arrived to the library early, frowning at the sight of not seeing her friend there, and proceeded to sit down, opening the books she had brought, hoping to find any more hopefully new pieces about the Door of Reflection.

She was there for hours, jotting and studying away- sometimes even taking breaks for the classes she'd actually get graded for, and not the assignment she just needed to help Sparky with.

"Gianna." The voice of Dr. LaPara called from behind her suddenly. The student looked up to see the man, arms crossed.

"Yes?"

"Do you know where Dennis is?"

Spítha...

"No, Dr. LaPara," She shook her head, "He didn't show up for class?"

"No." He huffed, "Didn't even leave a note. I thought you might know where he is."

Silence. Gianna shrugged, "He's home, probably."

As the professor left, Gianna slowly looked down at her pendant, then at her scattered notes about the Door of Reflection. More specifically, the Instruments of Doom.

That was so weird last night... Almost as if Spítha's strength was taken from his hand.

She paused.

That sounds familiar.

Like the Gong of Build.

The rituals for the Instruments include Greek beginnings... She wondered to herself as she traced her finger on the ritual words she had scrawled on there- it was true, the only way to use the Instruments for the first part of the ritual was to use it while reciting a phrase in Greek... But the way to open the door was in a different language- she had noted before it was changed by the Romans, as they had come up with the legend. It was in Latin.

She then pondered about the instruments themselves- the Romans did have hold of those Instruments. Perhaps the origin of it could tell her more.

The Flute of Sound is a double flute... Naturally, the Romans would have that. Then the Pipe of Wit is a pan pipe, both the Greeks and Romans had that.

She then paused at the Gong of Build.

But the Greeks... Why would they have a Gong? They didn't have gongs.

That's when she felt stupid.

But the Romans did...

"They loved to play copycat, didn't they, book?" She muttered to herself, smirking a bit, "But they played copycat very, very badly."