# Clothed in truth

The morning was cool and foggy when Julia, Martina, and Michael's doppelgangers arrived on the campus of the University of Kassel. A leaden haze hung over the buildings, the tense atmosphere almost palpable. The day was not beginning like any other, and they felt it to their very core. Even in the distance, they saw the first protest signs raised against the gloomy sky: "Against fascism and enemies of science!" and "Down with the reactionary!" echoed from a group of demonstrators gathered in front of the main building.

"This won't be easy," Julia whispered, looking around with a worried expression. Her eyes scanned the crowd, crammed together in an angry mosaic of faces and signs.

“We need to hurry,” said Michael’s doppelganger, straightening his shoulders, which stood like a shield against the approaching cold. “The professor is waiting for us. The faster we get him away from here, the less chance they have of recognizing us.”

Martina nodded and cast a searching glance at the grey clouds covering the sky, as if summoning an unwritten omen. "I.R.A.R.A.H. has prepared everything. Let's not waste any time."

They slipped unnoticed into one of the annexes, their steps hurried but controlled. The sound of the protests outside grew louder, but inside the university building it was silent. The contrast felt surreal.

In the sparsely furnished office, they found Dr. Tobias Neumann, who was hurriedly packing his belongings into a worn leather bag. He was a middle-aged man with sharp features and an expression of exhaustion and determination in his eyes, which were deep in their sockets like two shadows in a dark alley.

When the team entered, he looked up and breathed a sigh of relief. "I've been waiting for you," he said, putting down his bag. "The situation outside is escalating. The protesters are particularly aggressive today." His voice was a rough thread that cut through the tense air.

“We have everything prepared,” Michael’s double said calmly, taking a brown Franciscan habit from his bag. “Here is your religious habit. As soon as you put it on, you are officially Brother Timothy – a Franciscan on his way to the USA.”

Martina handed him a forged identity card. "I.R.A.R.A.H. has ensured that you have a new identity. Your religious name and your new existence are secure." The words weighed heavily on the professor's shoulders, who felt the weight of his situation.

Dr. Neumann stared at the habit before standing up resolutely. "This is crazy," he muttered as he wrapped himself in the brown robe. "But I have no other choice."

As soon as he finished, they led him through the empty corridors of the university building and out into the open. An inconspicuous delivery van was parked in front of the door, but the journey there was not without risk. The protests outside the university had grown louder; the crowd seemed agitated in anticipation of the professor's upcoming lecture.

“We have to get through this,” Julia said, glancing at the crowd. “They mustn’t realize it’s you. We don’t have much time.”

“I will go ahead with him,” Michael’s double said resolutely. “They should believe we are a group of Franciscans on a pilgrimage.”

They moved slowly towards the crowd. The demonstrators barely noticed them – until a shout rang out from the crowd: “That’s him! The reactionary professor!”

The protesters' eyes turned on her. For a moment, the situation seemed about to escalate. But Michael's doppelganger quickly pushed Dr. Neumann into the van. With a dull thud, the door closed, and they drove off, angry shouts echoing behind them.

The highway to Frankfurt was quiet, but the tension was still palpable, like a rope being stretched to its limit. The professor leaned back and sighed heavily. "Discussions used to be possible," he said thoughtfully. "You could have a different opinion without being insulted. Today, all I see is anger and ignorance. I hope things will be different in the USA."

"Maybe," said Michael's doppelganger. "Maybe not. But you'll be safer there – for now."

Arriving at Frankfurt Airport, the team escorted the professor through security. Every step had to be meticulously planned, as a single mistake could jeopardize their entire operation. Julia glanced over her shoulder as the professor handed his documents to the security officers. The officers were tired and efficient. They scanned the IDs, nodded, and waved them through.

Only one person hesitated – a young officer with glasses, who looked at Neumann's ID card longer than necessary.

"Brother Timothy? You are traveling to Chicago?"

“A pilgrimage,” Neumann said calmly. “To the Franciscans in the USA.”

The official nodded. "Have a good trip, brother."

They said goodbye at the gate. "Once you're in the US, you're safe," Julia said, placing a hand on the professor's shoulder. "I.R.A.R.A.H. will take care of everything else."

Dr. Neumann nodded, a trace of gratitude in his eyes. "Without your help, I would have been lost," he said softly. "I owe you my life."

They watched him as he walked through the gate and the flight to Chicago was called. They took one last look at the man they had rescued before he disappeared behind the glass doors.

Upon arriving in the US, the professor was met by a member of the Franciscan community and taken to the Franciscan University of Steubenville. The team accompanied him on the long journey to the university, whose calm and peaceful atmosphere contrasted sharply with the chaotic conditions in Germany. The trees surrounding the campus seemed like silent sentinels, protecting the new arrivals.

“Welcome, Brother Timothy,” one of the brothers greeted him with a warm smile. “Your reputation precedes you. We are delighted to welcome you to our community.”

“It will be an honor,” the professor replied, nodding slightly. The weight of his new identity felt both liberating and oppressive.

The day after his arrival, the professor delivered his inaugural lecture to a gathered group of Franciscans and students. The team sat at the back of the hall and listened attentively as the professor carefully chose his words. The hall was filled with a quiet anticipation; the air seemed to vibrate as he spoke.

“In a time when man is surrendering his autonomy to technology,” he began, “we must return to the values of the Enlightenment and rationality. It is not technology that will save us, but critical thinking. We must defend humanism against postmodern trends.”

The words echoed through the room. A collective nod went through the rows; the students seemed to sense the spark of hope that resided within the professor.

After the lecture, Martina, Julia, and Michael's doppelgangers met with an I.R.A.R.A.H. agent in one of the university's back rooms. The agent was a slim man with a serious face.

“It was risky,” he said, his voice calm and controlled. “But we have information that some of the demonstrators in Germany aim to infiltrate the Franciscan community as well. They might be targeting Dr. Neumann.”

“What can we do?” Julia asked worriedly.

"We must ensure the professor's safety and strengthen the connection to the community. He has become a target. The question is not whether they will try to find him, but when."

“That means we need to strengthen our defense,” Martina added. “He’s not just a professor. He’s a symbol.”

The agent nodded. "In the coming weeks, it will be crucial to secure our communications and keep a close eye on developments within the community. It will take time to smooth out the ripples that the events in Germany bring here."

In the following days, they prepared. Dr. Neumann gave further lectures and slowly found peace with his new identity. Once a week, the lecture hall filled with students who listened intently to his ideas. Here, discussion was possible again.

One evening, after a particularly inspiring talk, he sat at the table with his new brothers. "I never thought I'd feel so alive," he said, raising his glass. "To freedom of spirit!"

“To freedom of the spirit!” the others shouted in unison, and a feeling of community filled the room.

For the first time in a long time, Dr. Neumann felt free. But he also knew that the team that had rescued him would face new dangers – on the Ukrainian-Romanian border, on the Tisza River, in the darkness of night.