"Perfection is not a shield. It is a target."
February brought the rains to Belém, turning the afternoons into walls of gray water that washed the heat from the pavement. But inside the expanded Enactus room, the temperature was rising.
Miami was three weeks away. The preparatory World Cup.
The "Natural Cycle" project was scaling faster than their wildest projections. Partner NGOs were lined up. Funding was secured. It was the kind of success that usually allows a team to coast.
But Gabriel felt a constant, itching static at the base of his skull. A low-frequency hum that hadn't stopped since he touched the window and saw the lights on the river.
"Gabriel?"
He blinked, snapping back to the present. Carlos was standing by his desk, holding a tablet. His face, usually a mask of quiet competence, was pale.
"We have a problem with the Vila Esperança telemetry," Carlos said.
"Efficiency drop?" Gabriel asked, already reaching for his own interface.
"No. That's the thing. The efficiency is... fluctuating. Violently." Carlos placed the tablet on the desk. "Look at the data logs from last night."
Gabriel looked at the graphs. They didn't look like engineering data. They looked like the heartbeat of someone having a panic attack. Spikes of 120% efficiency followed by drops to near zero, oscillating in a pattern that felt nauseatingly familiar.
"It looks like interference," Leonardo suggested, joining them. "Maybe a localized magnetic storm?"
"In the middle of the Amazon?" Carlos shook his head. "And look at the code timestamp. The errors aren't random. They're... rhythmic."
Gabriel touched the screen.
Immediately, the static in his skull spiked into a scream.
[System Warning: Corruption Detected.]
[Source: External Mana Intrusion.]
[Signature: Void-Touched.]
The keychain in his pocket turned ice cold — a sharp contrast to its usual warmth.
"It's not a storm," Gabriel said, his voice low. "Isolate the system. Cut the remote connection to the prototype."
"Gabriel, if we cut the connection, we lose the real-time data for the Miami report," Felipe argued, approaching. "We need those numbers."
"Cut it," Gabriel ordered, his voice carrying a sovereign command he rarely used.
Carlos didn't hesitate. He typed a command. "Severing link... done."
The screen on the wall went black. Then, a single line of text appeared in green terminal font:
CONNECTION_LOST
But then, the text flickered. The green turned into a sickly, violet hue. The letters rearranged themselves, bleeding down the screen like digital ink.
I_SEE_YOU_SOLMERE
It lasted for a microsecond — so fast that if Gabriel hadn't been enhanced, he would have missed it.
"Did you see that?" Carlos asked, rubbing his eyes. "The screen glitched."
"Just a glitch," Gabriel lied, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Reboot the local server. Check for viruses. I need air."
He walked out of the room before anyone could ask questions.
...
The rain was torrential. Gabriel stood under the awning of the building, staring at the gray curtain of water
.
They found me.
It wasn't just a vague warning from Luna anymore. They were touching his work. They were in the code.
"You look like someone who just saw a ghost."
Professor Henrique was standing beside him, holding a black umbrella. He hadn't made a sound approaching.
"Professor," Gabriel nodded, keeping his guard up.
"Intense days, I imagine," Henrique said, watching the rain. "Preparation for Miami must be demanding."
"We're managing."
"I heard there were some... instabilities with the field data." Henrique turned to him. His eyes were calm, too calm. "It's fascinating how sensitive digital systems can be to certain... environmental frequencies."
Gabriel stiffened. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying," Henrique stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that cut through the sound of the rain, "that when you light a beacon in a dark forest, you don't just attract rescue. You attract predators."
He reached into his leather briefcase and pulled out a file folder. He handed it to Gabriel.
"I thought this might be useful for your preparation. Some research on... energetic anomalies in high-stress environments. Specifically regarding digital infrastructure."
Gabriel took the folder. It felt heavy. "Why are you helping me?"
Henrique smiled — a thin, joyless curve of the lips. "Because, Gabriel, despite what you might think, I am not your enemy. I am just... a rigorous observer. And I would hate to see such a promising specimen destroyed before the experiment is complete."
He opened his umbrella and stepped into the rain.
"Be careful in Miami," Henrique called back. "The barriers are thinner there. The ocean conducts more than just electricity."
...
Gabriel went back to his apartment, the folder burning a hole in his bag. He didn't open it immediately. He sat in the dark, holding the cold keychain.
The "glitch" in the code. The message. Henrique's warning.
The war wasn't coming to Belém. The war was waiting for him in Miami.
His phone buzzed. A message from the Resilientes group.
Carlos: Server rebooted. The weird logs are gone. It's clean. Maybe it was just a glitch after all.
Caio: Glitch or not, we're ready. Miami won't know what hit them.
Gabriel looked at the optimism on the screen. He looked at the shadows stretching across his living room floor — shadows that seemed to move independently of the light source.
He typed a reply: We're ready.
He put the phone down.
"System," he whispered to the empty room. "Status report."
A blue screen materialized in his vision, flickering slightly at the edges.
[System Status: Compromised.]
[Threat Level: High.]
[Quest Updated: Survive the World Cup.]
[New Objective: Protect the Team from Corruption.]
Gabriel stood up. He walked to the drawer where he kept Luna's letter and placed Henrique's folder beside it.
He wasn't just a Support Hero anymore. He was a Guardian.
And if the Shadows wanted to play with his code, they were about to discover that he knew how to rewrite the game.
[Skill Unlocked: Digital Purge.]
[Mana Cost: High.]
"Let's go to Miami," Gabriel said to the dark.
And for the first time, the darkness seemed to recoil.