The office gleamed as always. Bright, immaculate, known to all as "the Great Office A." Very few had had the privilege of sitting there, and one of them was Joaquín Barreto.

  Originally, his teammates were Krauser and Glinka, but for various reasons, the team disbanded. Krauser, too efficient in his work, was promoted to inspector. Glinka, on the other hand, had a wild character, almost unbearable to her superiors. However, out of respect for her friendship with Joaquín, she decided to distance herself before causing conflicts. She became a guild nomad, without ties or orders, accepting only favors and assignments. Although she earned the right to be an inspector, she repeatedly refused the position.

  That was Joaquín's original team. However, at the request of his friend Candado, he formed a new one: "La Tercia." Of course, that's what they call it in a vulgar manner in the hallways of the guild.

  Little is known about Joaquín on a personal level. Outside of work, he only maintains contact with Candado and Héctor. Neither Moneda, nor Ruth, nor even his former colleagues, Glinka and Krauser, know the details of his private life. Still, he has been a distinguished inspector, even outstanding, despite not having segalma or powers. Just an ordinary human… unlike his brothers, Lautaro and Kruger.

  For the Semáforos, he is part of the elite. For Candado, a natural talent. But socially, a disaster. Joaquín has proven to be a complete failure at maintaining new relationships. Or at least, that's what they say.

  At that moment, Joaquín was leaning back in his chair, eyes closed. To his right, Ruth; to his left, Moneda. Both were firm, silent, enveloped in a silence so tense that making noise seemed like a disrespectful act.

  "FuuuuuuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU" Joaquín blew out.

  Ruth and Moneda looked at him simultaneously.

  "Devoid of events, and devoid of answers. Only questions" Joaquín murmured, succumbing to the tedium.

  The phone broke the silence with its "Ring, ring."

  Joaquín reluctantly sat up and answered:

  "Inspector Joaquín, what can I do for you?"

  "The president of the Semáforo Federation wishes to speak with you."

  "Tell the lady that, as long as I’m the inspector of Argentina, I won’t go to see her."

  "She said you would say that. She also added that if you don't appear in the next 48 hours at the Urencho headquarters in Vathlecracia, your budget will be cut for failing to fulfill your duties in person."

  "Tell the lady that the Semáforo Code prohibits cutting the budget without approval from the Chamber."

  "The president..."

  "Have a good day."

  He hung up without hesitation.

  "I don’t think I’ll go to Vathlecracia just to see an incompetent" —he snorted, standing up—. "Guys, want to grab a bite?"

  Ruth nodded.

  "A complete meal is fine for me."

  "Alright" Joaquín slid across the desk. "Let’s head to the kiosk."

  The door suddenly opened, and a young woman entered holding a letter.

  "Oh, Susy."

  "Hello, Joaquín. Fiu, bastard. Sorry."

  "How’ve you been?"

  "All good this morning. In general, no big problems. Fiu, shithead, hope you die. Sorry."

  "That letter is for me, right?"

  "Of course."

  Joaquín took the letter and opened it carefully. He read it silently.

  "Wow, Sara is requesting my presence... Hope nothing serious has happened."

  "Really? Fiu, son of a bitch, go screw yourself. Sorry."

  "I’m not thrilled about going to see her, but I owe her a favor. So... let’s go. Have a good day."

  "Sure. Fiu, dead eyes. Sorry."

  Joaquín turned to his teammates.

  "Alright, guys..."

  Ruth was surrounded by a dark aura. Moneda, for her part, showed her hostility openly, flaunting her knife shamelessly.

  "Lower the psycho-killer levels before I get mad" Joaquín ordered coldly.

  Moneda and Ruth reluctantly obeyed.

  Susy: She is 15 years old and suffers from "Tourette Syndrome." She has light-colored eyes, blonde hair, freckles, and a mole on her right temple. She wears a dark green short-sleeve shirt, a knee-length skirt, and sandals. She has a peculiar trait: every time she swears, she winks and says "fiu." She is friends with Joaquín, maintains cordiality with Candado, and has a conflicted relationship with Héctor due to his morality, which she finds quite "annoying."

  Power: Ice control.

  Skills: Gardening and accounting.

  "God... I hope they don’t do that again" Joaquín murmured.

  "Sorry" Susy apologized, lowering her gaze. "It’s okay. Alright, let’s go."

  They stepped into the hallway without saying another word, walking in silence. The echo of their footsteps filled the tense air as they crossed the main door of the building. Once outside, the cool air enveloped them, and the sight of a black car parked in front of the entrance stopped them in their tracks.

  The driver's window rolled down with an electric hum. Joaquín and the duo stopped in front of the car.

  "Hello, Joaquín," the driver greeted as she lowered the window.

  "Alicia?"

  "Sara sent me for you... I mean, for you all."

  "Alright, let's go."

  Joaquín stepped forward and opened the passenger door for Ruth, in a chivalrous gesture. But she ignored him and chose to open the back door to sit alone in the back.

  As Joaquín was about to settle into the front seat next to Alicia, she, with a subtle smile and a hint of mischief, closed the door just before he could get in.

  "What's going on?" he protested, confused.

  "It’s better if you sit in the back."

  "What? Why?"

  "Just do it."

  Joaquín furrowed his brow and looked at Moneda.

  "Where are you sitting?"

  The boy glanced at the back seat, where Ruth was staring at him with an uncomfortable intensity.

  "Front," he replied without hesitation.

  Joaquín gave a resigned grimace and entered the car through the back door, sitting next to Ruth.

  "Hello, neighbor," he said dryly.

  He closed the door and fastened his seatbelt.

  "Let's go," Alicia said, starting the car.

  Ruth seemed happy to be by his side.

  A little later, the vehicle stopped in front of Sara's mansion.

  "I haven't been here in a while," Joaquín commented as he got out.

  "I'll wait for you, guys," Alicia called from the driver's seat.

  "Huh? You're not getting out?" Moneda asked, already on the sidewalk.

  "No need. I’ve been instructed to wait in the car."

  They shrugged and headed for the entrance.

  Inside, they were greeted by an older man, with a friendly appearance and a service-oriented air.

  "Good afternoon. Are you friends of Sara?"

  "Yes," Joaquín replied.

  "Great. She’s expecting you upstairs. If you'd like, I can bring you something to eat?"

  "Oh, no, we're fine, thanks."

  "Alright. But if you get hungry, feel free to head to the kitchen."

  "We'll keep that in mind, sir," Moneda responded with a slight nod.

  They climbed the stairs and stopped in front of a door. Joaquín knocked softly.

  "Come in," a voice called from inside.

  He opened the door and saw Sara waiting for them, seated at her desk.

  "Greetings, Inspector," she said with a smile.

  "Greetings, Syndic Sara."

  Sara stood up slightly, but Joaquín gestured with his hand.

  "Don't bother. I'll go."

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  He moved toward the table, followed by Ruth and Moneda.

  "Please, sit."

  "Thanks," Joaquín said, sitting down next to his companions. "Wow, seems like you were prepared for this."

  "Honestly, I’ve had a lot of people to attend to these past few weeks. You’re no exception."

  "I'm flattered. Anyway..." He leaned slightly over the table. "What can I do for you, Miss De Holy Truth?"

  Sara curved a smile.

  "I need your help. I require your talent and influence to locate something."

  "Something?"

  "Alright... a place."

  "A place? That sounds more interesting. What kind of place?"

  Sara unfurled a map of Argentina on the table.

  "Interesting... red dots. I see."

  "My benefactor believes there's something there that could be of use to us. He doesn’t know exactly what it is yet."

  "It must be important, huh?"

  "It is. That’s why I called you. I need you to locate these sites," Sara pointed to the spots on the map. "Since my benefactor doesn’t know the exact location, I had to rely on my own instincts. If this object comes from my world, it should emit the same type of aura as me."

  "Rawson... Patagonia... Ushuaia. Like this?"

  "Yes. Its power is fragmented. I believe it’s someone who ‘fled’ from my world."

  "Like you?"

  "I didn’t flee... I was exiled."

  "I see. So, how can I help?"

  "I want you to use your influence and confirm if these places are correct."

  "I can do that, but I have a question."

  "Understandable."

  "Why don’t you do it yourself?"

  "The agents have already made their move, I’ve lost many lives to get... here. If I could move, I’d do it myself," Sara’s voice trembled for a second, then she showed her frustration. "But I'm tied to this damn chair, watching my people get kidnapped and killed, with nothing I can do."

  "Not just your people are being hunted by the agents... we are too," Joaquín said seriously.

  "I know. But you have the tools to defend yourselves. They don’t..."

  "Calm down, calm down... I’ll accept your request."

  Sara sighed with relief, her lips barely trembling as she formed a smile.

  "Thank you," she said softly, taking Joaquín's hands. "Truly, thank you so much."

  "Yeah... you can let go of me now," he murmured, a bit uncomfortable.

  The atmosphere remained heavy as they left the main room. The outside air greeted them with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the tension that had built up inside the mansion. They walked down the stone path when the trio stopped.

  "So... what do we do now?" Moneda asked, breaking the silence as they reached the main courtyard.

  Joaquín didn't respond immediately. He was absorbed in studying the map Sara had given him, carefully examining the red dots marking possible locations.

  "There's no other way," he finally said. "My brother, Krauser, and Leandro will be the top picks for going to Ushuaia."

  "And the rest?" Moneda pressed.

  "I'll send a request for the agents' possible bases to be investigated. No one acts without concrete information."

  "I see, but... why send Krauser and Kruger specifically?"

  "Because there's a 99% chance that's the right place," he replied coldly.

  "I get it..."

  "Aliciaaaaaa! Service request!"

  "I'LL BE RIGHT THERE!" came the distant voice of the driver, drawing closer.

  Joaquín folded the map carefully and tucked it into his pocket.

  "This will be interesting, don't you think?"

  "No," Moneda blurted out without thinking.

  Joaquín raised an eyebrow. Ruth stayed silent, but her expression said it all.

  "Great answer, Ruth. I couldn't have said it better myself," Joaquín teased.

  At that moment, his phone rang. He pulled it out and answered without looking at the screen.

  "Who could this be...? Joaquín Barreto, how can I help?"

  "Hey, Joaquín," a familiar voice responded on the other end.

  "That voice... Gabriel. How's it going, brother of the same name?"

  "I'm fine, but... there's a problem."

  "What problem could there be, my friend?"

  "There's a girl in your office."

  "I don't see anything wrong with that. Maybe she wants help."

  "...I don't think so. She says her name is Chandra."

  "Wh...?"

  "Julekha Chandra."

  Joaquín clenched his fists. The air seemed to thicken.

  "Tell her that if she wants to see me... she'll have to come crawling to beg me," he said before abruptly hanging up.

  "SHIT!" he yelled in fury, slamming his fist into the nearby wall.

  "She's in the city, right?" Moneda asked cautiously.

  "Unfortunately, yes."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "I realized, when I hung up the call, that all my notes are there. I need them to help Sara... So I have to go," he said through gritted teeth, seething with anger.

  Ruth gave him a gentle pat on the back.

  "It’s fine. I’ll deal with it."

  Joaquín spat on the ground. It was clear he was lying. He couldn’t hide the disdain he felt for someone like Chandra. A deep disdain, similar to the one Candado felt for Luis.

  "Ruth, Moneda... take the day off."

  "But..."

  "Trust me, I don’t want you to see the part of me that might come out if she tries anything. Especially you, Ruth."

  "Alright," Moneda agreed, though reluctantly.

  Ruth looked at him with concern, but it wasn't enough to disobey the order. She lowered her head, accepting in silence.

  "Fine, leave," Joaquín said with a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

  After saying goodbye to his colleagues, Joaquín walked with determined steps toward the traffic light intersection. Gabriel was waiting for him on the other side, leaning against a pole, noticing that he wasn’t accompanied by his usual team.

  "It’s understandable that they’re not by your side today, isn’t it, sir?" Gabriel asked.

  "Gabriel... I'm glad you still keep that beautiful sense of humor," Joaquín said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

  "Thank you. It’s a pleasure."

  Joaquín tilted his head and looked toward his office across the street, on the upper floor of the building.

  "There?"

  "Yes. It’s there."

  "Great. My day can’t get any worse," he muttered, sarcasm lacing his words.

  He shoved his hands into his pockets and crossed the street, his eyes never leaving the window of his office until the angle was lost.

  Upon entering the building, he noticed the hustle and bustle. The team members were working intensely, having realized their superior was present.

  "Disgusting..." he whispered.

  Gabriel cleared his throat.

  Joaquín understood the message and continued forward. The storm had only just begun.

  Once in front of the door to his office, the space he had once considered his own, his refuge, Joaquín felt a twist of disgust, horror, and repulsion. The air seemed thicker here. It was as if every corner screamed at him that nothing would ever be the same again.

  Yet, his hand still opened the door.

  "What...?"

  The confusion disappeared instantly as he saw Arce standing by the window, some scars marking her skin, remnants of a recent past.

  "Did you leave the hospital? Are you alright?"

  She nodded gently. Joaquín gave a slight, almost broken smile that faded as soon as he noticed a presence to his right.

  "Greetings, Inspector Jo..."

  Joaquín slammed the door shut behind him, walked straight to his desk, and dropped into the chair like a dead weight.

  "Greetings, inspector..."

  "Keep your damn greeting to yourself," he said without looking at her.

  "Rude as always."

  "I don’t hesitate to tell you that every time I see you, a massive pile of shit climbs up my throat, Chandra."

  "I see that you still struggle to show your cordial respect," she replied, with that damn indifference that made his blood boil.

  "‘Your’? ‘Cordial’? ‘Respect’? A bunch of crap coming from your mouth."

  "I understand that you still hate me, for reasons unrelated to our work."

  "That’s the least of it compared to what you did."

  "Hanging up the phone and not offering us even a coffee is very bad manners."

  "I’m willing to serve Arce anything she wants, even be her damn butler if she wishes. But for you, not even the dirt from my shoe would I offer. For all I care, you can chew on shit."

  "I see ‘shit’ is your favorite word, inspector," Chandra replied, keeping her composure. "But I didn’t come all this way to be insulted by a subordinate."

  "‘Subordinate’!?!" Joaquín growled, his voice rising like a storm.

  Arce shuddered.

  "I’m not your subordinate," he slammed both fists onto the desk. "You’re ignorant if you think that. The traffic light presidents are colleagues, but you... you have an inflated ego because of that position you don’t deserve, that seat in the Justice Assembly..."

  "Watch your language. I still have power, and honestly, you’re starting to annoy me."

  "Then use the door," he said, pointing to it with his chin. "It’s open and it’s screaming for you to leave."

  "You will be judged for insubordination."

  "I’d like to see you try, Chandra."

  "Joaquín... please, enough," Arce intervened, a pleading look in her eyes.

  He turned his gaze toward her. He sighed. Lowering his voice, though the fire still burned behind his pupils.

  "Tell me... what do you want?"

  "You didn’t notify me that Arce was hospitalized."

  "I didn’t think it was necessary."

  "I’ve been too kind to you, Inspector Barreto. But that ends now."

  "What are you insinuating?"

  "That starting today, a small delegation will remain here. Everything you do will be reported directly to me."

  "Are you going to spy on me 24/7?"

  "Only during working hours."

  "It doesn’t bother me. Let your pieces of shit watch. I’m not going to stop."

  "You've been very cooperative."

  "Because you’re right, I’ll never be as brilliant as Candado Barret... but you’ll never be anything like Kiel."

  That hit Chandra hard. It was a clean blow.

  "Bring whoever you want. But you're still garbage. The elections will prove it."

  "Such a shame. We could have been good allies."

  "I would never be an ally to someone like you."

  Julekha closed her eyes for a moment, holding something in. When she opened them again, she was once again the cold woman representing the Assembly.

  "I'm sorry to have disappointed you."

  "You did more than that."

  "Then, I’ll leave."

  "Ra—"

  "Joaquín, please!" Arce pleaded, once more.

  Chandra stood up without another word, walked toward the door, and before crossing it, she turned to Arce.

  "I hope you recover soon."

  Then, she left.

  Silence fell like a heavy cloak. Joaquín let his shoulders drop, staring at the floor.

  "Chandra... how I hate her."

  "Why are you like this?" Arce asked softly. "You don’t speak like this, you don’t usually use those words..."

  "Then you don’t know me," he said, without looking at her. "I can be a real mess with those I despise. And I despise her."

  "I’m sorry…"

  "You don’t have to apologize. But yes, I feel rage. A lot of it. Just like her. Only she disguises it better."

  "That destroys both of you," Arce murmured.

  "You don’t get it. You should’ve been there. Not her. She never deserved it."

  "And yet… you helped her."

  "A mistake. One I should’ve never made."

  Joaquín stood still for a moment, staring at the door through which Chandra had just left. The echo of her departure still lingered in the air, like a bitter taste that refused to disappear.

  He didn’t say anything at first. He stood up in silence and walked to the window. He moved the curtain just enough to see the president’s car driving away with ceremonial slowness.

  "I’m a terrible friend," he murmured, his voice hollow. "I couldn’t make you president of the Traffic Lights... I couldn’t."

  Arce sat still, watching him with sadness. Joaquín rested a hand on the window frame and kept his gaze fixed on the street.

  "Life can be so cruel."

  "Can’t you make peace... or at least forgive her?"

  Joaquín turned abruptly. His eyes met Arce’s.

  "What do you see in me?"

  "I see someone hurt."

  "Now repeat that part," he asked, almost in a whisper.

  "You can forgive Chandra."

  A tremor crossed Joaquín’s face, twisting it into a grimace of anger.

  "What do you see now?"

  "Rage... and hate."

  Joaquín held back. He took a deep breath and walked over to her.

  "Tell me, what do you think of Desza?"

  Arce hesitated, lowering her gaze.

  "A horrible human... a killer and despicable."

  "He killed many of your friends, even your students. He killed little Nancy, nine years old... do you remember? She wanted to be an inspector like you."

  Tears began to fall down Arce's face.

  "I wasn’t with them..." she murmured, her voice breaking.

  Joaquín positioned himself behind her, gently placing a hand on her back.

  "Franco, twelve years old. Valeria, six. Ricardo, Daniel, Javier... Osvaldo, Alejandra, María, Mirta. The names are many. All... murdered by Desza."

  Arce broke down in sobs. The pain rose in her throat like a scream held back for too long. Joaquín lowered his voice, but not the intensity.

  "You were the only one who survived. You saw how Nancy was... unrecognizable."

  "No one should have to experience that..." Arce said through tears. "Not them. They should be at home... with their parents."

  Joaquín leaned in and whispered near her ear:

  "Then tell me, Arce... Why don’t you forgive Desza?"

  The young woman straightened up with fury, as if she wanted to strike him, but then stepped back in fear. She screamed with all her might:

  "NEVER!"

  Joaquín, slowly, took a small mirror from his desk and offered it to her.

  "Look at yourself. Do you understand now? Tell me... what do you see?"

  Arce looked at her own face: swollen, soaked with tears, distorted by rage.

  "This is... what you feel? No, it’s different, Chandra isn’t a killer."

  "Worse, she’s a defender of killers."

  Arce felt pain in those words.

  "Then, do you feel that hatred like this?"

  "Every day, Arce." He set the mirror aside. "What you went through with Desza... is the same as what I feel with Chandra. That’s how I feel when you ask me to forgive her. A liar, cruel, and vile human being, who has no qualms about forgiving such horrendous beings just to get a few votes."

  Arce swallowed, her face twisted in distress.

  "What horrible thing did she do... for you to hate her so much?"

  "Inquisitors, that’s all I’ll say."

  Arce stood up abruptly, uncomfortable.

  "I’m sorry... I need to leave now."

  "Go ahead," Joaquín said in a tired voice. "No one is stopping you."

  She left quickly, trying to hide her confusion and pain. Joaquín, alone, returned to the window. His gaze lost itself among the buildings.

  He returned to his desk, picked up the phone, and dialed a number he had memorized.

  "Hello?"

  "Hey, Kruger... How have you been?"

  "Sleeping," a groggy voice groaned from the other end.

  Joaquín let out a small laugh.

  "Is something wrong? You sound sad."

  "No, I’m fine... thanks."

  "Are you sure? It doesn’t sound like it. Did someone mess with you?"

  "No, just... a tramp showed up."

  "Chandra," Kruger sighed, now more awake. "Are you okay? I know how she gets to you... you need to calm down."

  "I can’t do it. You know I can’t."

  "At least try, like I did with Candado."

  "Still not over it?"

  "He put you in danger, and I hate him for that. Called it a ‘harmless mission’... Was that idiot mocking me?"

  "Please, it was harmless..."

  "You came home bleeding! Mom nearly had a heart attack... and so did I."

  "Sorry."

  "It wasn’t your fault. It’s his, for not taking care of you."

  Joaquín smiled softly.

  "So... What’s up?"

  "I need your help."

  "Anything. Tell me."

  "I want you to investigate a place."

  "Where?"

  "Tierra del Fuego, Ushuaia."