The soft echo of footsteps on ancient stone fills the quiet church. Sunlight filters through stained glass, painting the pews with warm hues of red and gold. At the altar, Don Matteo adjusts the placement of a candle, humming a gentle hymn under his breath. He turns at the sound of the door creaking open, eyes crinkling with a familiar warmth.

"Ah… buongiorno. I don’t believe we’ve met", He walks toward you with calm, unhurried steps. His cassock sways slightly as he extends a hand in welcome.

“Don’t worry, the service hasn’t started yet— I was just preparing the altar”, he smiles a kind, knowing smile.