Tick.
Tock.
Another day slipped away, leaving just two before the apocalypse.
It was summer in Brazil, a season synonymous with scorching sun, cloudless skies, and tourists flocking to the beaches. But the weather was as unpredictable as the times—storms often rolled in out of nowhere, wild and untamed.
Today was one of those days: Dense, ominous clouds had swallowed the horizon, turning day into night. The winds howled, bending trees, tearing roofs from houses, and sending debris spiraling through the air. Thunder cracked like a whip, its electric fury illuminating the darkened sky.
This sudden change in weather came in handy for Nikolas' plans. The torrential rain forced people indoors, quelling the unrest that had been simmering across the country. Yet, at the same time, the storm fed a growing sense of dread. The air was thick with tension, as if nature itself was warning of the catastrophe to come. This looming feeling made some people believe even more about the tragedy that would befall on earth.
Even so, this whole situation was not enough to take the attention of the global media from the hacker's thing. It was a hot topic worldwide and the debate around it took most of the TV time.
Despite the government's insistence that the warning was nothing more than an elaborate hoax, the story refused to die. Each new update fanned the flames of speculation. And today, the headlines blazed with a shocking revelation: One of the hacking groups had been traced back to Brazil!
The idea that such a sophisticated cyberattack could originate from this vibrant yet chaotic land was almost unbelievable.
Brazil's notoriety wasn't built on hackers, the country was known for its massive traffic organizations, powerful cartels that operated like shadow governments across Latin America. These organizations wielded influence far beyond their borders, with their own rules, their own armies, and their own code of ethics.
That being said, it was easier to understand how shocked people were and who they immediately blamed for that issue.
Accusations flew, conspiracy theories sprouted like weeds, and the international community scrambled to respond. Interpol dispatched a specialized task force to São Paulo, the beating heart of Brazil, where they would be joined by agents from the Brazilian Intelligence Agency and the federal police. Together, they vowed to hunt down the perpetrators.
While the media spun wild tales and the authorities mobilized, Nikolas—the true mastermind—kept a low profile, his focus entirely on the task at hand. There was no room for complacency. Every available moment was spent training with his father, his brother, and Master Yuemura. The four of them pushed their bodies to the limit, their muscles burning, their minds sharpened by the knowledge that time was running out.
Night had fallen by the time the storm began to wane. The rain tapered off, leaving the moon to peer through the ragged remnants of the clouds. It was in this eerie calm that Nikolas rose from his bed. He moved silently through the house, his mind already on the mission ahead. As usual, he woke Erick, who groggily rubbed his eyes and muttered under his breath, still half-asleep as he dressed for their nightly training.
But tonight, something was different. Instead of heading to the garden, Nikolas grabbed the keys to their newly acquired car and made his way to the garage.
"Aren't we training tonight?" Erick asked, his confusion evident in his sleepy voice.
"No," Nikolas whispered, sliding into the driver's seat and motioning for Erick to join him. "Tonight, we have something more important to do."
Erick frowned as he climbed into the car, the door clicking shut behind him. "What's going on? What are we doing?"
Nikolas started the engine, the low rumble filling the garage. A sly smile curled his lips as he glanced at his younger brother. "We're going on a field mission."
"A field mission?" Erick repeated, his curiosity piqued. "What kind of mission?"
Nikolas shifted the car into gear, his smile widening. "We're going to visit the army outpost."
Erick's eyes widened in surprise. "The army outpost? What for?"
"To do something that Dad would definitely not approve of," Nikolas said, his tone light yet tinged with mischief. "We're going to steal."
"Steal?" Erick's voice rose in disbelief. "Are you serious?"
"Dead serious," Nikolas replied, his eyes gleaming with determination as he backed the car out of the garage. "There's something there we need—something that will make all the difference in two days.
****
The main garrison of the Brazilian army was strategically positioned just outside the island, perched atop a small hill to the right. Its primary function was to safeguard the three access bridges to Florianópolis, a precaution for times of war or national emergency—events that had not occurred in decades. Tonight, the garrison loomed in the distance, its lights barely visible through the shroud of rain and darkness.
[They blew up all the bridges to isolate the island. The concentration of zombies was highest inside.] His grip on the steering wheel tightened, the memories sharp and vivid. Will they do the same this time? Probably... It only took one week for everything to collapse.
Nikolas drove silently across one of the bridges, the soft hum of the engine blending with the sound of the storm. As the rain battered the windshield, his mind wandered back to the grim future he had already experienced.
Despite not knowing exactly who had made the call back then, he remembered the swift military intervention all too well. After the apocalypse, the army had seized control, enforcing martial law and dictating the survival strategies of the country. While it seemed like a natural response for a force trained to maintain order, many of their decisions had been catastrophic, especially for civilians.
The Brazilian army, once a source of national pride and respect, had become a symbol of failed leadership in Nikolas' eyes. He had grown up admiring them, believing in their sense of duty and honor. But after the calamity, something had changed—perhaps due to political influence or manipulation by more powerful figures behind the scenes.
Whatever the cause, the consequences were devastating. Poor decisions, poorly executed plans, and a refusal to adapt to the new world had led to the deaths of millions. Entire cities were overrun, civilians left defenseless. Worst of all, hundreds of soldiers had deserted, aligning themselves with the notorious trafficking organizations that ran like a parallel government throughout Latin America.
[The war between the army and the cartels tore the entire continent apart!] Nikolas thought, his jaw clenched. [Perhaps human nature can not be changed, even in the army…]
Stealing from them now didn't bother him in the slightest. They had enough weapons to last them a century—and they had failed when it mattered most.
But not everyone shared his conviction.
Erick sat in the passenger seat, his face lit by the occasional flash of lightning outside. He stared out the window, chewing his lip in thought. Even though he often joked around and acted carefree, Erick was someone who took rules seriously. Growing up with a police officer as a father had instilled in him a deep respect for authority, laws, and doing the right thing.
Now, as they neared their destination, his internal struggle was becoming more apparent.
The car rolled to a stop about ten minutes away from the garrison. Nikolas parked in a secluded spot off the road, the dark night offering them the perfect cover.
The moon was hidden behind layers of storm clouds, casting an eerie gloom over the landscape. Only the occasional rumble of thunder broke the silence.
Nikolas turned off the engine, the car falling into a tense stillness. He glanced over at Erick, noticing the uncertainty written across his younger brother's face.
"Relax," Nikolas said, his voice calm but firm. "You don't have to do much tonight. I'll be the one going in."
Erick frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. "I don't like this, Nikolas. Stealing from the army? That's—"
"It's necessary." Nikolas cut him off, his gaze hard and unwavering. "I'm not doing this for fun. We need those weapons, Erick. For our survival, for our family. You think the army's going to hand out supplies when the world falls apart? No. They'll hoard it, guard it with their lives, and leave the rest of us to fend for ourselves. I've seen it happen before."
Erick shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "But stealing… Dad wouldn't—"
"Dad doesn't know what's coming," Nikolas said quietly, leaning back against his seat. His eyes softened, but his resolve remained. "I do. And I'm not letting our family get caught unprepared because we played by the rules. You trust me, right?"
Erick hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Of course I do. It's just..."
"I know," Nikolas said, placing a reassuring hand on Erick's shoulder. "But we're not the same people we were before. Things are different now. Rules won't save us."
Erick looked down at his lap, the weight of his brother's words settling in. He took a deep breath and nodded again, this time more firmly. "Okay. What do you need me to do?"
Nikolas smiled faintly, grateful for his brother's trust. "Blend into the shadows, like I taught you. Keep your eyes open and your senses sharp. If anyone gets close, give me a signal. I'll go inside and grab what we need—guns, ammo, whatever we can carry. We're in and out before anyone notices."
Erick swallowed hard, his nerves still buzzing, but he steeled himself. "Got it."
Nikolas checked his watch. Midnight. The perfect time to move.
"Relax, I'm not killing people now, just stealing from the army…" He patted his brother's shoulder and at the same time thought for himself [Not yet!]
"Got it!"
With a final nod, the two brothers stepped into the shadows, the darkness cloaking them like a second skin. Nikolas moved effortlessly, his form merging into the night with practiced grace, while Erick struggled to keep pace.
Three days wasn't nearly enough time to master his brother's stealth techniques, and Erick found himself straining to make out Nikolas' silhouette. Despite being only a few feet away, his brother seemed to dissolve into the void, a shadow among shadows.
They crept through the dimly lit streets, the only sound the distant hum of the city and the occasional rustle of wind through the trees. Minutes passed, each step pulling them closer to their target—the army garrison.
Minutes later they could see the army headquarters. The building loomed ahead, old and unassuming. It stood with a quiet authority, surrounded by a low wall, its grounds sprawling with smaller outbuildings further inside. At the front gate, a sleepy soldier was patrolling, his posture lax, fatigue evident in his every movement. The man held an IMBEL MD97 assault rifle loosely at his side.
Nikolas crouched beside Erick, his voice barely a whisper. "Stay here."
And then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.
Erick's heart raced as he watched from his hiding spot, barely able to comprehend the swiftness of his brother's movements. One moment the soldier was standing, drowsy but alert enough to guard the gate, and the next, his body slumped silently to the ground, a lifeless heap. No sound. No struggle. Just...gone.
[Incredible!] Erick stared in awe as Nikolas dragged the unconscious soldier out of sight. He couldn't help but marvel at his brother's skill. [That's what ninjas must've been like!]
Moments later, the soldier's body was hidden and Nikolas once again disappeared from sight.
The silence stretched on, the minutes ticking by like hours. Erick's mind wandered as he imagined what Nikolas was doing inside, the tension gnawing at his nerves. Every sound, every shift in the air seemed amplified, and despite his efforts to remain calm, his anxiety grew.
*Tap
*Tap
*Tap
The unmistakable sound of heavy boots echoed through the quiet night. Erick's heart leapt into his throat as he glanced to his left, spotting another soldier approaching from down the street. The man walked with purpose, his footsteps loud and deliberate in the stillness.
[He's on patrol... If he passes through the gate and doesn't see his partner, we're screwed!]
Instinctively, Erick's hand twitched, ready to signal Nikolas, but he stopped himself just in time. [No. Nikolas brought me here for field experience. I can't mess this up. I'm not a coward!]
His pulse pounded in his ears as he crouched lower, every muscle in his body tense. He couldn't let the operation fall apart now.[I have to do this!]
Steeling his resolve, Erick began to move. Each step was agonizingly slow, his body trembling from the effort of controlling every movement. His muscles burned with the strain, sweat dripping down his face as he forced himself to stay calm. His breathing was shallow, barely a whisper as he stalked toward the approaching soldier like a predator closing in on its prey.
The soldier continued his leisurely patrol, oblivious to the danger behind him. His rifle hung loosely by his side, his head dipping every few steps as fatigue set in. Erick's heart hammered in his chest, each breath feeling like a knife in his lungs. But the soldier was distracted, unaware of the creeping threat in the shadows.
[Perfect.]
Erick rose from his crouch, adrenaline flooding his veins. In a single fluid motion, he lunged forward, his body propelled by fear and desperation. His hand, shaped like a knife as his brother had taught him, struck the soldier's neck with precision.
TAK!
There was a sickening thud as the blow connected, the man's body going limp almost instantly. The soldier collapsed to the ground, his rifle clattering softly against the pavement.
A drop of sweet fell from Erick's forehead. He stood there for a moment, panting, his chest heaving as the weight of what he had done settled in.Only now did he notice how tense he was, both his hands trembling icy with anxiety. It took extreme concentration to achieve what he did. That made him even prouder of his older brother.
[I... I did it... ]His hands trembled, a mix of exhilaration and shock coursing through him. He had taken down a soldier, without alerting anyone.
Erick then took the soldier's assault rifle carefully and went back to the shadows where he once was.