For Lucera Interior of a cavity that has been excavated from rock, with almost imperceivable edges. Several dozen meters from the entrance, the cavity opens up onto a large room, crossed by a ray of light that cuts through a hole. Sharp stalagmites, molded by drops of saliva, emerge from the floor. The drops form a small pool, a milky, calm body of water. Eggs of an unknown species appear on the shore. There are hatchlings a short distance away that seem to have emerged from them. There is no one to take care of them. Probably their protector has gone out in search of food, or meat. The environment shakes with the deafening cries of the young; any living creature dwelling near the cavity would surely hear them. Hours, days, weeks have passed, and no one has taken charge. They move around trying to find comfort in the cold scenery around them.
Interior of a cave has been converted into a battlefield base lair. The improvised furniture and sketches attest to a strange obsession, revealing that a human being lives here. The table with small miniatures approximating beings with thick necks describe a fixation for a specimen not yet seen, but sensed. The remains of weaponry assembled with rudimentary materials affirm a will to hunt, or perhaps to avoid being hunted, affirming a will to survive. The scene is echoed with latent threat. There is a single plate of leftover food. There are no companions. If she is hunting, she has no allies. It is clear whoever she is, she will fight to maintain her existence. There are flowers wilted by the passage of time. Hours, days, weeks have passed, and no one has taken charge.
Neither has returned in all this time.
— Julia Castelló y Ali A. Maderuelo
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