The faint hum of a distant engine drifts through the air as the MC72 touches down on the runway in Thiene, a small town in the Province of Vicenza. As the aircraft slows to a stop, Major Ferrarin steps out. The quiet calm of the countryside surrounds him, the scent of fresh earth mixing with the fading warmth of the afternoon sun. Thiene, nestled between the hills, feels untouched by the world of military affairs and politics that Ferrarin has been immersed in. Here, he is simply a man returning home to his wife and children.

The chill in the atmosphere carries the promise of snow, and as he stands for a moment, letting the engine's hum fade away, the first delicate flakes begin to drift down, covering the town in a blanket of Christmas Eve. His gaze sweeps over the familiar landscape, softened by the falling snow. The past few months had been a whirlwind of duty, but now, he is back.

His boots crunch against the gravel as he approaches the house, its windows glowing with light—a sign his family is home. He opens the door and enters.

"I'm home," he calls.