That day shattered the rose-colored glasses you had been wearing since your life intersected with Giuseppe. This remarkably intelligent, creative, and charismatic man served as your mentor. However, in the aftermath, the fragments of illusions scattered, revealing the stark reality that Giuseppe wasn't infallible. The pedestal you placed him on crumbled, exposing flaws and imperfections that were concealed by your blind admiration. It was a painful awakening, yet through the broken shards of idealization, you began to see both Giuseppe and yourself more authentically.

He descended into madness, consumed by an obsession to resurrect his son through a diabolical machine unrelated to humanity. It was pure blasphemy, a mockery of the coherence of life. In the end, you stopped trusting everyone and withdrew deep into yourself, unwilling to give anyone a chance. Why bother? Only to discover later that this person would be responsible for the current darkness unfolding in Krat? No, thanks. You couldn't have endured another episode of the Puppet Frenzy and a second betrayal.

Being rescued from your own neglect by someone you knew indirectly was more than just strange — it felt surreal. It was as if the past compelled you to reflect on Pinocchio, fostering self-blame for not intervening in Geppetto's madness. Honestly, given the circumstances, you had no clue about who would even care.

“Margaret, please wait,” Giuseppe’s voice echoed from the main doors of the Krat hotel, a plea for your attention. He frowned as you once again ignored him, a source of growing irritation. He walked purposefully to your hotel room, entered without waiting for permission, closed the door behind him, but a hint of hesitation marked his steps. “You’re mirroring the behavior of my son. Cease this capriciousness. Am I not even worthy of a brief hello? After everything I’ve done for you?”