Prologue

The soft glow of the morning sun peeked through the narrow windows of the Academy of Philosophy and Science. In the great hall, where the sound of footsteps and the whisper of turning pages usually filled the silence, an unmistakable tension hung in the air. This morning was different from all others.

Giovanni Alessi stood at the front of the hall, his hands firmly resting on the wooden table before him. In front of him, displayed on a bed of velvet, lay a small device that drew curious gazes from those present. It was a device unlike any other. With a spiral of metal wire and coloured crystals, somewhat futuristic in design, it symbolized everything Giovanni Alessi had researched in recent years: the possibility of understanding and measuring the human soul, the consciousness.
"This, my esteemed colleagues," Giovanni began, his voice both powerful and tender, "is the Anima Scanner.  With it, we can capture the soul - or at least what we consider to be its essence - for the first time in a scientific manner. We can now map a person’s deepest feelings, their thoughts, their desires, and transform them into data we can analyse. What kind of world could emerge from possessing such knowledge?"

A few attendees whispered to each other. Some looked visibly sceptical, others - especially the younger scientists - stared at the device in awe. Yet it was the appearance of another man that drew most eyes: Lorenzo d’Asta, a prominent philosopher whose ideas about the soul and consciousness had influenced the Academy for years. Lorenzo stood tall, his eyes sharp, his posture proud. He was a man of the old school, who believed the soul was something far too profound for science to ever grasp.
"Giovanni," Lorenzo began, his voice rich with conviction, "you cannot measure the invisible. What you present here is merely a mechanical device, a simple instrument that records a person’s emotional state. It cannot do justice to who we are. The soul, the essence of our existence, cannot be reduced to a set of codes and numbers."
Silence fell over the hall. 

Giovanni looked calmly at Lorenzo and replied, "I understand your concern, but I believe the soul doesn’t need to remain a mystery. Our thoughts, emotions, and desires are not magical forces - they are biological. What if we could finally unlock the secrets of our own consciousness? What if humanity could finally understand its full potential - and learn to control it?" 
Lorenzo shook his head, and his gaze swept across the hall, where he saw concern in the eyes of several other philosophers. One of them, Vincenzo Monti - a man who stood somewhere between science and philosophy - rose and beckoned Giovanni to come closer.
"Giovanni," Vincenzo said thoughtfully, "perhaps there is something to what you say. But if we can truly measure what we feel, can we still speak of freedom? How would it change us if everything we do - every choice, every thought-is determined by data?"
Giovanni smiled. 
"That’s exactly the question we must answer. But we won’t know, Vincenzo, until we try."
Lorenzo looked deep into Giovanni’s eyes. "What you’re doing, Giovanni, is dangerous. Humanity must preserve its mystery. What you propose is a world in which we are nothing more than machines."
"Perhaps we simply need to learn to understand those machines," Giovanni said with a smile, placing the device back on the table. "Perhaps that’s the next chapter in human history."
The hall fell silent once more, the tension between science and philosophy hanging tangibly in the air. This was the beginning of something monumental - a moment in history that would change the world forever. Giovanni knew that maybe it would not be him, but someone else that was able to achieve his greatest technological desires.

Nonetheless, the seed of the future had been planted.