In the city Laterno, one senses another presence intruding upon their solitude. With her fingers dancing across the strings, she speaks in a melodic tone.

"Ah, you've come to pursue me, haven't you Doctor of Rhodes Island? Our destined encounter foretells a repetition of past melodies, perhaps. Yet, a glimmer of hope arises that harmony might impede chaos, where relentless hounds have thus far failed."

"Shall solfège prevail, or shall our sonata reach a dissonant conclusion?"