The sky hung low with heavy, dark clouds, casting a somber blanket over the landscape. Rain drizzled steadily, each drop a small percussion against the ground, creating a rhythmic patter that seemed to echo the sorrow of the gathered mourners. The air was thick with moisture and the scent of wet earth, mingling with the faint, bittersweet aroma of freshly cut flowers.
Umbrellas dotted the Alessandros' private cemetery like mournful mushrooms, their black canopies absorbing the bleakness of the day. Everyone was huddled beneath them, shoulders hunched against the cold and their own grief, faces partially obscured by the shadows and the mist that hung in the air. Footsteps squelched in the mud, leaving imprints that quickly filled with water, as if the earth itself sought to erase any trace of the intrusion.