Ar&LI

06/14/2026

ℝ𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒 ℕú𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕠 𝟙
𝔸𝕣&𝕃𝕚 𝕕𝕖 ℙ𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕪 𝕃𝕖𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕤
“𝟷𝟸 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒔, 𝟺 𝑵𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔”
𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐚 𝐃𝐙𝐮𝐥

“ℒ𝒶 𝓅ℴℯ𝓈í𝒶 𝓃ℴ 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶.
𝒜𝓅𝓇ℯ𝓃𝒹ℯ 𝒶 𝓋𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓇 ℯ𝓃 𝓁𝒶 𝓈ℴ𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶.”
— 𝒜𝓃ó𝓃𝒾𝓂ℴ 𝒹ℯ𝓁 𝒢ó𝓁ℊℴ𝓉𝒶.

𝐆𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐚 𝐃𝐳𝐮𝐥

"𝙻𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚒ó 𝚎𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚗 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚘"

𝙶𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚊 𝙳𝚣𝚞𝚕 𝚗𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚜: 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚘, 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚊 𝚊 𝚕𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚊 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊, 𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚞𝚗 𝚋𝚘𝚝ó𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚐𝚞𝚓𝚎𝚛𝚘.

𝙴𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚊𝚐𝚞𝚓𝚊, 𝚎𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚘, 𝚕𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚊, 𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚐𝚘, 𝚎𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚕 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘. 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚜í𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚖é𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚘. 𝙴𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚜í𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚊 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚊 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚊.

𝙷𝚊𝚢 𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚞𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊: 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚜, 𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚣𝚊𝚜,
𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚍í𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜, 𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊, 𝚎𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚓𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚟𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚊 𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚢 𝚎𝚕 𝚎𝚜𝚝ó𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊.

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚒é𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚘, 𝚎𝚕 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚊: 𝚎𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚓𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚗 𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚟𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎, 𝚕𝚊 𝚗𝚒ñ𝚊 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜𝚐𝚘𝚜, 𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚜 𝚌á𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚕 𝚗𝚒 𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚊.

𝙶𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚊 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚕 𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚕, 𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚘 𝚜𝚎 𝚟𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚌á𝚗 𝚢 𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚊.
𝙳𝚎𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚣𝚘 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚘. 𝙳𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚣𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚊. 𝙳𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚣𝚘 𝚞𝚗 𝚕𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊 𝚢𝚊 𝚗𝚘 𝚍𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚊.

𝙰𝚛&𝙻𝚒 𝚍𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚢 𝙻𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜 – 𝙽ú𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝟷
𝟷𝟸 𝙿𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚜, 𝟺 𝙽𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜.
𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎:
𝙻𝚞𝚒𝚜 𝙵𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝙳𝚞𝚛á𝚗
𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚕𝚢𝚗 𝙹𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑
𝙶𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚊 𝙹𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙻ó𝚙𝚎𝚣 𝚂𝚘𝚝𝚘

06/07/2026

05/30/2026

ℝ𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒 ℕú𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕠 𝟙
𝔸𝕣&𝕃𝕚 𝕕𝕖 ℙ𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕪 𝕃𝕖𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕤

“𝟷𝟸 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒔, 𝟺 𝑵𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔”
𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐚 𝐀𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐨 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐜í𝐧

“ℒ𝒶 𝓅ℴℯ𝓈í𝒶 𝓃ℴ 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶.
𝒜𝓅𝓇ℯ𝓃𝒹ℯ 𝒶 𝓋𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓇 ℯ𝓃 𝓁𝒶 𝓈ℴ𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶.”
— 𝒜𝓃ó𝓃𝒾𝓂ℴ 𝒹ℯ𝓁 𝒢ó𝓁ℊℴ𝓉𝒶.

𝙷𝚊𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚑𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚘.

𝙴𝚗 𝚞𝚗 𝚖á𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕, 𝚌𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚣𝚊 𝚢 𝚎𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚖𝚊 𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚗, 𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒ó 𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚢 𝚢 𝚕𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚜𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚊, 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚌ó𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚊, 𝚞𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚣𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚞𝚣 𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚊.

𝙽𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚣𝚊 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚒𝚋𝚘, 𝚅𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚣𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚊, 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚞𝚗 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚘, 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚜𝚞 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚊 𝚎𝚕 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚘.

𝙷𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚜𝚙í𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚞, 𝚑𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚛 𝚎𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚣ó𝚗, 𝚑𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚓𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚘 𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚙á𝚛𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚍 𝚕𝚊
𝚙é𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚊.

𝙿𝚘𝚛𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚒é𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚘𝚝𝚘ñ𝚘. 𝙳𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐ó 𝚜𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚘 𝚢 𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚞𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚕á𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚜𝚘. 𝙳𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚍í𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚜. 𝙳𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚛 𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚘 𝚢 𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚛; 𝚓𝚞𝚎𝚐𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚓𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚓𝚊𝚖á𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚎.

𝙳𝚘𝚌𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚜, 𝚌𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊, 𝚓𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚝á𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚜, 𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚌𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚒ó𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚜.

𝚂𝚞𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚣ó𝚗, 𝚊𝚕 𝚕𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚎𝚗 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚣𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚊, 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚘𝚙𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚢𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚕 𝚜í𝚖𝚒𝚕, 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚘.
𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚒é𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚓𝚎𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚌𝚊 𝚕𝚊 𝚕𝚞𝚣.
𝙼á𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕á 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚘, 𝚖á𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕á 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚕 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚜, 𝙽𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚣𝚊 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚊 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚟𝚘𝚣 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚎: 𝚈𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚢 𝚎𝚕 𝚂𝚘𝚕 𝚅𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚘, 𝚕𝚊 𝙻𝚞𝚣 𝙴𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚘.
𝚈 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚜í𝚊 𝚜𝚎 𝚟𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚊, 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚊, 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒ó𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊. 𝙴𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚕 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚛ú𝚓𝚞𝚕𝚊 𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖ó𝚗 𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚕 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚊. 𝚈 𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊, 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎, 𝚊𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚊 𝚕𝚞𝚣 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚜.

𝙽𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚣𝚊 𝙰𝚕𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊, 𝚎𝚗 𝚙á𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚒ó𝚗 𝚍𝚎: 𝟷𝟸 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚜 𝚢 𝟺 𝙽𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚜: 𝚕𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚓𝚎𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚓𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚘 𝚊 𝚜𝚞 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚊, 𝚕𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚓𝚎𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚊 𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚕𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚓𝚎𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚜𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚍𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚜, 𝚕𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚓𝚎𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚘𝚢𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚟𝚘𝚣 𝚍𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚘𝚜 𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚍.

𝚄𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚊 𝚟𝚘𝚣. 𝚄𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚓𝚊𝚛𝚍í𝚗. 𝚄𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚟𝚒𝚊𝚓𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘.

𝙻𝚘𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚜 𝚜𝚞 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚊, 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊 𝚎𝚕 𝚎𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜𝚎 𝚢 𝚕𝚊 𝚕𝚞𝚣, 𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚑𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚞é𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚘 𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚊 𝚕𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊.

𝙰𝚛&𝙻𝚒 𝚍𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚢 𝙻𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜 – 𝙽ú𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝟷
𝟷𝟸 𝙿𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚜, 𝟺 𝙽𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜.

𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎:
𝙻𝚞𝚒𝚜 𝙵𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝙳𝚞𝚛á𝚗
𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚕𝚢𝚗 𝙹𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑
𝙶𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚊 𝙹𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙻ó𝚙𝚎𝚣 𝚂𝚘𝚝𝚘

05/29/2026

ℝ𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒 ℕú𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕠 𝟙
𝔸𝕣&𝕃𝕚 𝕕𝕖 ℙ𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕪 𝕃𝕖𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕤

“𝟷𝟸 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒔, 𝟺 𝑵𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔”
𝙇𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙖 𝘼𝙡𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙯𝙖

“ℒ𝒶 𝓅ℴℯ𝓈í𝒶 𝓃ℴ 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶.
𝒜𝓅𝓇ℯ𝓃𝒹ℯ 𝒶 𝓋𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓇 ℯ𝓃 𝓁𝒶 𝓈ℴ𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶.”
— 𝒜𝓃ó𝓃𝒾𝓂ℴ 𝒹ℯ𝓁 𝒢ó𝓁ℊℴ𝓉𝒶.

𝐿𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑎 𝐴𝑙𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑧𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑦𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑝𝑜é𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑙 𝑑𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛 𝑒𝑙 𝑚á𝑥𝑖𝑚𝑜 𝑐𝑢𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑠.

𝑆𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑎 𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑐ó𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑏𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎, ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑗𝑒 𝑙í𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑑𝑜 𝑦 𝑡𝑟á𝑔𝑖𝑐𝑜 𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑 𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙.

𝑆𝑢 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑜 𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑎 ℎ𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑎 𝑙𝑎 𝑚𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑒, 𝑒𝑙 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑝ú𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑜, 𝑙𝑎 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑎, 𝑙𝑎 𝑡𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑎, 𝑒𝑙 "𝑛𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑜 𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑒 𝑙𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑎". 𝑁𝑜 𝑒𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑖ó𝑛 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑙.
𝐻𝑎𝑦 𝑒𝑛 𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎 𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑐𝑖ó𝑛 𝑒𝑠𝑡é𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑟 𝑙𝑎 𝑚𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑒.

𝐿𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑎 𝑒𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑒𝑡𝑎 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑎, 𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑔ó𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎, 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑏ó𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎 𝑦 𝑜𝑛í𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎, 𝑐𝑢𝑦𝑜 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑗𝑒 𝑐𝑟í𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑜 𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑚é𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑦𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑎𝑡𝑚ó𝑠𝑓𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑙ú𝑔𝑢𝑏𝑟𝑒 𝑦 𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑛𝑒, 𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑗𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑙𝑜 𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑜 𝑜 𝑙𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙.

𝐻𝑎𝑦 𝑢𝑛 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑑𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒: ℎ𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑎 𝑑𝑒 "𝑒𝑙 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑜", "𝑒𝑙 𝑝𝑜𝑒𝑡𝑎 𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑑𝑜", "𝑒𝑙 𝑝𝑜𝑒𝑡𝑎 𝑚𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑜", 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑠𝑖 𝑠𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑎 𝑜𝑡𝑟𝑜, 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑜 𝑙𝑎 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑙 𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑠 𝑎 𝑠í 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑚𝑎 𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑛 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑎 𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑎 𝑒𝑛 𝑒𝑙 𝑝𝑜𝑒𝑚𝑎. 𝐸𝑠𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑒 𝑒𝑛 𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑒𝑡𝑎 𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑣𝑎, 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑎 𝑠𝑢 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑜 𝑜𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑑𝑒 𝑙𝑎 𝑚𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑒, 𝑙𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑒𝑠í𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑒𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑜 𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑐𝑖ó𝑛 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑡á𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒.

𝑆𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑡á 𝑝𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎 𝑒𝑛 𝑒𝑙 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑟 𝑜𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑜 𝑦 𝑓é𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑙𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑒𝑠í𝑎 𝑠𝑒 𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎, 𝑚𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦 𝑣𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒 𝑎 𝑛𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑟.

𝐸𝑠 𝑢𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑎 𝑦 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑎 𝑒𝑛 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑖ó𝑛.

𝐴𝑟&𝐿𝑖 𝑑𝑒 𝑃𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑦 𝐿𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑠 – 𝑁ú𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑜 1
12 𝑃𝑜𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑠, 4 𝑁𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠.

𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒:
𝐿𝑢𝑖𝑠 𝐹𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑙 𝐷𝑢𝑟á𝑛
𝐻𝑒𝑖𝑙𝑦𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑡ℎ
𝐺𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝐽𝑢𝑑𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐿ó𝑝𝑒𝑧 𝑆𝑜𝑡𝑜

05/28/2026

ℝ𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒 ℕú𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕠 𝟙
𝔸𝕣&𝕃𝕚 𝕕𝕖 ℙ𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕪 𝕃𝕖𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕤

“𝟷𝟸 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒔, 𝟺 𝑵𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔”
𝑱𝒖𝒂𝒏 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒔 𝑭𝒆𝒓𝒏á𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒛 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒐

“ℒ𝒶 𝓅ℴℯ𝓈í𝒶 𝓃ℴ 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶.
𝒜𝓅𝓇ℯ𝓃𝒹ℯ 𝒶 𝓋𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓇 ℯ𝓃 𝓁𝒶 𝓈ℴ𝓂𝒷𝓇𝒶.”
— 𝒜𝓃ó𝓃𝒾𝓂ℴ 𝒹ℯ𝓁 𝒢ó𝓁ℊℴ𝓉𝒶.

𝐿𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑏𝑟𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑎, 𝑦 𝑛𝑜 𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑔𝑎𝑙𝑎 𝑛𝑖 𝑝𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑜. 𝐿𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑠: 𝑐𝑜𝑛 𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑎 𝑦 𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑙𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑔𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑧𝑎.

𝑱𝒖𝒂𝒏 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒔 𝑭𝒆𝒓𝒏á𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒛 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒐, 𝑝𝑜𝑒𝑡𝑎 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑜, 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑒 𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑎 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑙𝑎 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑠𝑒 𝑣𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜.

12 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒔, 4 𝑵𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝑙𝑜 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛 𝑠𝑢 𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑝𝑎𝑗𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙: 𝑒𝑙 𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑙í𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑗ó 𝑠𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑙 𝑐𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑝𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑎, 𝑒𝑙 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑙 𝑚𝑎𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑛𝑜 𝑎𝑐𝑎𝑏𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑟.

𝐽𝑢𝑎𝑛 𝐶𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑒í𝑑𝑜. 𝐸𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑦𝑎 𝑛𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑏𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑟.

𝐴𝑞𝑢í, 𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑧 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑛 𝑒𝑙 𝑐𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑝𝑜 𝑑𝑒 𝑙𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑏𝑟𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑏𝑟𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑎 𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑎, 𝐽𝑢𝑎𝑛 𝐶𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑜𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑎 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑙𝑎 𝑝𝑜𝑒𝑠í𝑎 𝑒𝑠 𝑒𝑙 ú𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑜 𝑙𝑢𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑒𝑙 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑑𝑜 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑢𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑎: 𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑎 ℎ𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑎 𝑑𝑒 𝑠í𝑙𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑠, 𝑓𝑟á𝑔𝑖𝑙, 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑎, 𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑎.

𝑃𝑜𝑟𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜 𝑝𝑜𝑒𝑚𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑜 𝑒𝑠 𝑢𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑜, 𝑦 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑏𝑟𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑐ℎ𝑎 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑜, 𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑎.

𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒:
𝐿𝑢𝑖𝑠 𝐹𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑙 𝐷𝑢𝑟á𝑛
𝐻𝑒𝑖𝑙𝑦𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑡ℎ
𝐺𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝐽𝑢𝑑𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐿ó𝑝𝑒𝑧 𝑆𝑜𝑡𝑜