Proceeding at his usual cadenced pace, the dromedary continued to advance slowly across the scorching sand until he came in front of a low khimp bush, sprouting in the shadow of a huge ochre-colored dune. Even disregarding the now-empty hump that hung limply on one side of his back, judging by the way he pounced on the half-dried bush it was evident that he was quite hungry.

He had been eating for about a couple of minutes when a small indistinguishable mass rained down from the sky with the speed of a splinter, then crashed against the top of the dune, raising a dense cloud of dust on impact.

Noticing the noise, the dromedary immediately raised his head again and strained his ears, sniffing the air. After a few seconds of watchful waiting, however, the only sound that broke that unreal stillness was the blowing of the gentle breeze sweeping across the desert. Seemingly reassured, the dromedary returned to placidly grazing the shrub.

He had just plucked a sprig dotted with dull yellow buds when suddenly the side of the dune exploded.

Emerging from the mound of sand, two giant paws covered in golden scales reached forward, and once they grabbed the dromedary as casually as a child grabs a toy, they dragged it inward. The poor beast had just enough time to emit one last desperate roar before disappearing completely from view, then the dune collapsed on its side and silence once again reigned supreme

Nothing happened for a while, but just as the breeze resumed swaying the fronds of the khimp bush, now half submerged in sand, a small hole opened on the top of the dune, and an instant later a tawny-furred desert fox came out of it. Sitting gracefully on its hindquarters, the fennec shook off the sand from which it was still covered, and after passing his rosy tongue over his lips, he pointed his gaze toward the horizon.

Dubai's skyscrapers were barely visible in the distance, hidden from view behind a dense straw-yellow haze. Admiring for a few seconds the panorama of the city besieged by the heat hood, the small creature turned its head slightly to the left, thus turning its attention toward a low hill a little more than five or six kilometers away.

Although most of the encampment was hidden from view behind the relief, military vehicles coming and going along the not-too-distant highway betrayed its presence.

Now certain of what he should do, the fennec ran along the crest of the dune, and when he reached its end he took a long leap forward. The fall into the void barely lasted the time of a single blink, then the desert fox's form reshaped itself radically, until absolutely nothing remained of its original appearance.

Now slicing through the air was a peregrine falcon with mottled plumage, which with a mighty flap of its wings immediately took altitude and took off in the direction of the hill.

The encampment stretched for miles and in size was undoubtedly the largest Saudi army base in the area. In addition, compared to the other two brigades that were carrying out the siege of the city, this one also seemed to be considerably better armed. As he flew over it in raptor form Alessandro counted several pieces of heavy artillery, as well as an equal number of rocket launchers and tanks.

Hundreds of soldiers grappling with normal morning maintenance operations wandered among tents and prefabricated structures, alternating with the armored vehicles that crowded the dirt roads. In spite of the incredible variety of men and vehicles, however, what struck him more than anything else were the two huge black-framed helicopters, which at that very moment were preparing to take off.

Dodging the blades of one of them Alessandro continued in his dive toward the ground, and once he landed on top of a pole equipped with a megaphone he turned to follow them with his eyes.

The pair of helicopters was heading in a northeasterly direction, but they did not seem intent on reaching the city so much as going around it by keeping a safe distance. The risk of being shot down by the flak of the Emirati troops, if only they got too close, must have been well known to the pilots of those aircraft.

Meanwhile, as the two disappeared from view over the hill, Alessandro returned look at the base. Since well before his departure from Italy he had been thinking a great deal about what he would do once he found himself at that point. However, now that he had finally arrived there, the enlightenment he had so hoped for unfortunately did not come.

His goal was to end the war, and to get closer to that goal he would at least have to break the siege encircling the city, but in spite of the time spent mulling it over, he had not been able to come up with anything that did not contemplate brute force.

By now fully aware of his own capabilities, he knew full well that if only he had wanted to he would have been able to raze the camp to the ground in not even five minutes, however, this would also have meant a frightening number of casualties. Those same soldiers he now saw marching up and down the camp would be dead, and this he could not accept. Even though these were invading soldiers who had come all that way with the sole purpose of conquering and killing, he could not take it that far.

Not after what he had experienced inside Fabio's apartment. The mere memory made his skin crawl, and the hawk-Alessandro shook himself, ruffling his plumage

Moreover, even if he had not taken the most colossal form of which he was capable, and had limited himself to striking only heavy weapons thus sparing people, there was still the negligible detail that doing so would have revealed his presence to the whole world.

He could not kill, he could not attack, and he could not even show himself. But if he was not even able to stop those men, how on earth did he hope to stop a whole army!

Noble as he was, his willingness to cause no casualties while remaining anonymous was in fact proving to be a sentence of impotence. Unless.

Perhaps it was not necessary to strike directly. What if he did it secretly? After all, his powers allowed him to do so. If he wished, he could impersonate anyone he wanted. A terrifying kaijū as tall as a palace, as well as a tiny fly.

There was no need to kill soldiers, just sabotage their weapons. No weapons no conquest, no conquest no war. The reasoning was spinning.

Where was it convenient for them to start though? From rocket launchers, tanks, or artillery?

He was still wondering what would happen in case he tried to obstruct the cannon of a huge howitzer parked nearby, when his attention was drawn elsewhere.

Some soldiers were busy pushing a large cart cluttered with olive-green missiles, carrying it out of a shed positioned at the edge of the camp. The barbed-wire fence surrounding the steel structure was open only near the entrance, which was guarded on sight by a pair of soldiers armed with assault rifles

Alessandro did not need to think for even a split second to know what to do. Throwing himself down from the pole he darted through the air with the swiftness of a splinter, and when he reached the vicinity of the hut he made a sharp turn to the left.

Eventually, he managed to penetrate inside the facility just as the soldiers guarding the entrance closed the gate. The speed with which he had passed over their heads turned out to be so great that neither of them noticed anything.

Once inside, Alessandro regained his human appearance, adopting the identity of an ordinary Saudi military man with a beard and red beret, and set about exploring the environment. Viewed from the inside, the facility looked like an ordinary warehouse, with the obvious exception of the absurd amount of weapons and ammunition with which it was crammed.

Boxes of bullets, grenades, anti-tank mines, tank ammunition and rocket launchers crowded the shed, in which every inch of space not strictly necessary for the inevitable movements of personnel seemed to have been reserved for shelves and crates designed to hold everything necessary for the continuation of the fighting.

One glance was enough for Alessandro to realize that he had hit the jackpot. Now all that remained was to determine what the priorities were.

Machine gun bullets? No, too little influence.

Grenades then? Already better, but still not enough.

Ammunition for missile launchers? Bingo.

The pedestal on which the rockets rested was located adjacent to the right-hand wall, and to the best of his guess there must have been about twenty of them. Even though this was a single batch, among who knows how many others scattered around the warehouse, he had to start somewhere, and so he decided that for the time being it was convenient for him to start there. The missiles were at least three meters long and at least in appearance looked to be quite heavy as well.

As he cautiously lifted one after grasping it by the bottom edge, Alessandro was especially struck by the colors with which the outer hull had been painted, half of it hazel and the other half burgundy.

Okay, to find it he had found it, but how was he now going to defuse it? Breaking it definitely seemed like a bad idea, but the others that came to his mind did not give the impression of being much better either. He studied its shape and a sudden inspiration lit up his brain.

Bullet. Size aside, that was still a big bullet.

And what did a bullet contain? Gunpowder, of course. Of course, it was quite unlikely that even for that huge missile it was the same, but at the end of the day the concept should not have been too different. No matter how massive, a disassembled projectile doesn't work.

Now intent on pursuing his idea Alessandro put the missile back down and felt its pointed end. From what he could see the top was joined to the bottom section without showing any sign of bolts, screws, or welding. Perhaps simply unscrewing it was enough.

Grasping the tip firmly with both hands, Alessandro therefore began to unscrew it by proceeding counterclockwise. At first he felt a very weak resistance, and then, with a sharp screech, the end of the rocket rotated slightly toward him.

Pleased with the result, Alessandro continued. Another gentle counterclockwise motion and the tip rotated again, and again, and again, and so on four times. Reassured by the fluidity with which he was proceeding with the work, he decided to increase the speed. After all, that was only the first of a long series, and if he did not want to be discovered, he could not afford to disassemble every single rocket in ten minutes.

Believing he had almost succeeded, he prepared to finally remove the tip, but at the next rotation a sinister snap rose from the missile. Alessandro arched his eyebrows.

A gigantic roar hit him full force as a tsunami of fire engulfed him and the entire warehouse. The whole thing happened so fast that when he opened his eyes again, he was no longer indoors but outside. The explosion had sent him crashing into a small concrete wall, into which he had penetrated several inches before falling back with his buttocks onto the dusty ground.

Meanwhile, just a hundred meters ahead, what remained of the hut was being devoured by flames. High columns of black smoke rose from the rubble toward the blue sky

Still stunned by what had just happened Alessandro blinked, gazing vacantly at the soldiers running in all directions, scrambling to put out the fire. The bodies of the two men guarding the fence lay in the middle of the road. For a terrible moment he thought they were dead, but when some military medics rushed to the scene to rescue them he noticed that they were still moving, albeit weakly.

The moment they were loaded onto the stretchers, Alessandro heard them screaming in pain, and a moment before they were taken away he was able to make out the skin on their arms under their slashed sleeves. It was covered with terrible burns.

The face of a paramedic blocked his view. The soldier who had just bent over him shouted something in Arabic just inches from his nose. Obviously Alessandro did not understand what he was saying, but because of the shock he had suffered he seriously doubted that he would be able to understand it even if he addressed him in academic Italian.

At first he blinked dumbly and when faced with the man's insistence was forced to shake his head. The paramedic paid him no mind and helped him to stand up. Once he was on his feet he spoke to him again and then directed him with a push in the direction opposite to where the destroyed shed was burning. Alessandro obeyed without responding.

Meanwhile, the soldiers around him kept running around the camp. The officers shouted orders, the privates obeyed, and the whistle of sirens echoed everywhere, clouding his mind. He had just come within sight of the infirmary when a frightening rumble burst onto the scene, overpowering every other noise with its incredible power.

Alessandro was just in time to look up to see a pair of military jets whizzing over his head. They were aiming straight for the city.

It was then that he realized what was happening. And what had happened. He reviewed the entry into the warehouse, the sabotage attempt, the explosion, the two soldiers covered with sores.

My God, he had done it. He had reduced those two men to death. It wasn't supposed to end like that. Destroying an ammunition depot was not worth that much

He just wanted to-no, there was no time to despair. The jets that were on their way to the city were about to carry out yet another bombing raid, and people would almost certainly die. Unfortunately, he was not in a position to undo the damage he had just caused, but by intervening now perhaps he could prevent further tragedies from happening. If he really wanted to help anyone he had to hurry.

Trying to erase from his mind the memory of the military couple torn by the burns, Alessandro threw himself two rows of tents, and when he was certain that no one was watching, he reassumed the guise of a peregrine falcon and then took flight.

The journey to Dubai turned out to be surprisingly short. Compounded by his desire to reach his destination as soon as possible, it did not take him more than half a minute to cover the twenty abundant kilometers that separated him from the city.

It was the first time he had seen her in person. In fact, counting the brief vacation in Croatia dating back at least six years earlier, this was his second trip abroad, and the first he had made alone, but although he could hardly say he expected anything different after all the photos and videos he had found on the Internet, the impact with reality was nonetheless disorienting.

Dubai was in a state of almost total abandonment where sand-invaded streets, destroyed buildings and skyscrapers left to their own devices were the norm. Many buildings and even entire sections of huge commercial complexes had been torn down or had ended up being severely damaged by the bombings, which had been occurring on an almost daily basis for more than six months

There were few cars around and even fewer passers-by. On the other hand, he glimpsed several military vehicles, and just as he was crossing the boundaries of the metropolis he even managed to witness the attack launched by the Emirati anti-aircraft in the direction of the Saudi jets. To their misfortune, the two planes managed to escape, but not before hitting some buildings in a neighborhood on the outskirts of the city

Alessandro headed straight there. The alley where he landed converged on a large rectangular square surrounded all around by numerous apartment buildings with dirty gray facades that gave the buildings a terribly dingy appearance. The comparison with the gleaming skyscrapers downtown could not have been more merciless. To be honest, it did not even feel like we were in Dubai, but rather in any small town in the Middle East

Having acquired the features of an olive-skinned 30-year-old local, Alessandro crossed the square, heading toward the bombed building. It was an eight-story high office building, and it was completely engulfed in flames. Judging from what he could make out through the glass panes in the entrance, it looked as if the roof had collapsed hard, eventually dragging all the other floors along with it in the fall.

When he reached the scene he discovered that a crowd of onlookers had already preceded him, and were now observing the scene by keeping a safe distance. Clearing his throat as if for courage, Alessandro turned to a gentleman dressed in a threadbare white dishdasha, who was peering at the scene from the back rows.

''Is anyone injured?" he asked nonchalantly in perfect English.

The man gave him a distracted look before returning his focus to the burning building. He wore a long beard and his right eye was dull, probably due to cataracts.

''If they are still in there no more,'' he replied lapidarily.

"Why did they hit him?" Alessandro asked him.

''But what do I know,'' the man said with a shrug, ''those hit everything.''

''They didn't do it randomly,'' interjected a dark-skinned boy to Alessandro's left. ''I heard that some of the services were using it as a base. The Saudis must have found out.''

''Damn spies,'' growled the bearded man in a scornful tone. And after spitting on the ground he walked away into the crowd.

Alessandro cursed in his mind. Nothing. There was nothing more he could do. Suddenly remembering that that was not the only building that had been hit, he turned away from the crush and headed for the mouth of the street where he had seen the missile fall. Once on the spot, however, he was forced to see that it was absolutely impossible for his intervention to help in any way

The stricken building, a single-story grocery store that stood at the other end of the street, had completely collapsed, leaving behind nothing but a smoldering pile of rubble. There appeared to be no survivors, and although he saw a couple of injured people being loaded into a car, he did not know whether they were the managers or passersby who had accidentally ended up caught in the explosion. In any case, nothing he was able to solve.

Alessandro felt like a useless fool. He could not attack the planes directly because he did not want to kill anyone, but neither could he use his powers to transport the wounded to the hospital, because that would have meant revealing his own nature to the world. In short, his very presence there was more useless than that of an ice salesman at the South Pole

Bitter, confused, and furious with himself, Alessandro turned around and started walking across the square with his hands stuffed in his pants pockets.

What was the point of being endowed with extraordinary abilities if he refused to use them? How did he hope to end a war like that? Did he believe that by raising his hands toward the Saudi jets, the pilots flying them would change their minds and return home? Or was he convinced that he could help bombing victims by teleporting them to an operating room in Paris with a snap of his fingers

The more he thought about it, the more naive and childish his initial plan appeared to him. When he had decided to make the ultimate sacrifice to improve the world, he did not think he would end up in a dead end soon after leaving the starting blocks.

''Please, can someone help me!''

Alessandro pricked up his ears. Locating the author of that plea took but an instant. A child was running back and forth across the square trying to attract the attention of passersby, but they continued on their way without caring about him.

"Please, I need help!" cried the desperate little boy.

Once again none of those present seemed intent on responding to him. A man in a long hazel-colored dishdasha and turban walked past him without even bothering to look at him. Seizing the opportunity, the child tried to stop him by clinging to his arm.

"I beg you sir!" she pleaded with him in a heartbreaking voice.

''Get lost thief!!!'' ranted the stranger in response.

She freed his arm with a sharp yank and pushed him away angrily, sending his buttocks slamming into the concrete.

"I am not a thief!" cried the child indignantly. His eyes filled with tears. ''Please...''

He had recently hidden his face in his hands when Alessandro reached him.

"Do you need help

The little boy immediately raised his head again and uncovered his face. He had a sympathetic face, cinnamon-colored skin, and a pair of slightly floppy ears. He could not have been more than seven years old. The moment he crossed his gaze with Alessandro his eyes lit up.

''Yes,'' she replied wiping the tears from her face. ''Please sir, help me. My sister is trapped and even hurt!''

"Where is he?" cut Alessandro short.

Although taken aback by the ease with which he was able to convince him, the child got back on his feet by propping himself up on his hands.

''This way!" he exclaimed excitedly, trotting to the opposite end of the square. ''Follow me, sir!

Alessandro went after him without question. The young boy led him out of the square along a lightly trafficked street, then into an alley adjacent to a supermarket with shattered storefronts, until they found themselves walking along anonymous deserted streets, where the noises of the city were reduced to nothing more than a distant, indistinct echo

Although his little companion persisted in encouraging him with some misses yet, or gods we're almost there, casting glances over his own shoulder in the meantime, just to make sure he had not been abandoned, Alessandro never spoke or complained, merely following him with relentless persistence. Finally he would be able to make himself useful to someone.

Fifteen minutes and several blocks later they came upon a narrow dirt alley set between two dilapidated apartment buildings. The dusty ground was littered with debris and garbage, except for three wide, rusty steel grates, spaced about ten meters from the beginning of the alley. In place of the one in the center was a hole.

''That's it, we're here,'' announced the excited little boy, setting off running in the direction of the grates. ''Nadia, it's Abhay, I'm back!''

Reaching the chasm, he knelt at the edge and looked down. Once she was beside him, Alessandro also pointed his gaze downward.

A girl barely five years old was slumped on the concrete floor of an underground parking lot, illuminated by the cone of light filtering down from above. The steel grating, which must have evidently come loose as she passed, stood just a meter away from her

''Nadia hang in there!'' yelled Abhay through the opening, ''I found a gentleman who wants to help us!''

In response Nadia sobbed in terror, her face scarred with tears.

Abhay turned toward Alessandro.

''She says her leg hurts and she can't move,'' he explained in a distressed tone. ''I tried to enter the pits, but the gate is closed.''

''I'll take care of it, you stay here,'' Alessandro reassured him.

Before Abhay could respond Alessandro sat on the edge, and after carefully calculating his own trajectory he let himself fall below, landing four meters below. The instant he appeared before her so suddenly, Nadia gasped in astonishment. The gesture wrenched a stifled groan from her.

"Does it hurt that much?" Alessandro asked her in a gentle tone, kneeling at her side.

''Yes,'' whispered Nadia, keeping her eyes downcast.

''Can I try to lift you up?''

Nadia pulled up with her nose and nodded.

''Okay''

Trying to be as gentle as possible, Alessandro took the child in his arms and returned to his feet. Nadia gritted her teeth in pain, but did not complain. She had a very pretty little face, with features strikingly similar to her brother's, and she wore a bright orange dress with floral patterns. On the sides of her head sprouted two small black braids.

''How do we get out of here?" asked Alessandro, looking up again at Abhay.

The little boy pointed his arm in front of him.

''That way,'' he replied promptly, ''but I don't know if...''

Alessandro, however, did not wait to hear the end of the sentence and immediately set off in the direction indicated. Not wanting to waste precious seconds, Abhay bypassed the hole and started running toward the end of the alley. When he was on the other side he turned left, running up along a sunburned street at least twice as wide. The exit to the pits lay not far away, obstructed behind a large metal gate. Since it was enclosed within the building's facade, climbing over it was impossible.

The moment he spotted Alessandro reaching the foot of the ramp leading outside, Abhay grabbed the bars of the gate and tried to open it by pushing hard. Soon realizing that it was totally useless he then tried to shake them open, but the little effect it had convinced him to desist

''You see, it's stuck, and without power you can't open it,'' he told Alessandro in a mournful tone.

He backtracked several steps until he reached the sidewalk at the other end of the street

''There has to be another exit, though,'' he added as he observed the security door at the entrance to the apartment building. ''Try going back and trying to get inside.''

However, Alessandro did not seem to have heard, and continued to proceed impassively down the ramp holding Nadia in his arms. Once he reached the top he lifted his right leg, and after making sure that Abhay was far enough away not to get involved, he delivered a kick to the center of the gate.

Clank!

With a tremendous metallic squeak, the gate suddenly swung wide open, crashing against the wall. The abrupt rebound that followed caused it to vibrate like a gong just struck by a huge hammer. In fact, the impact proved so devastating that one of the hinges gave way shortly thereafter, leaving the left wing to dangle helplessly inches from the wall.

Abhay's eyes widened as his jaw snapped downward. Ignoring the little boy's stupefied expression, Alessandro walked toward him.

''I think she has a broken leg,'' he commented in a practical tone as soon as he was within earshot. ''Where can we take her?

Still shocked by what he had seen Abhay blinked, but eventually seemed to recover from the shock.

''In the place where we are staying there is a very good doctor,'' he replied, nodding vigorously.

''Lead the way then,'' Alessandro said simply.

Abhay nodded vigorously.

"Yes.