With the decision made and his friends' acceptance, albeit reluctant, Thiago felt a weight lift from his shoulders, replaced by an even greater urgency. The university hallway, once a stage for quiet drama, now became the makeshift headquarters for a rescue operation. He needed to be clear, concise, and above all, convincing. Their lives depended on it.
"Excellent questions," Thiago said, his voice firm, his eyes fixed on each of them, conveying the seriousness of his experience. "Now that the general plan is established, let's get down to the details of who does what. We need to divide and conquer, just as I did before, almost twenty years later. Each will have a specific mission. Discretion is essential at every stage. No one can suspect what we're up to."
He turned to Lucas, the more sociable one, the one who had the easiest time interacting with strangers without arousing suspicion. "Lucas, your mission will be to focus on medical supplies and survival kits. Visit various pharmacies and camping supply stores. Buy surgical-grade first aid kits, broad-spectrum medications, antibiotics, strong painkillers, suture supplies, and bandages. For survival kits, look for ones that include portable water purifiers, thermal blankets, waterproof lighters, and multi-purpose knives. Say it's for a volunteer project or a group hiking expedition. Something that sounds plausible to a college student with money."
Lucas swallowed, but a gleam of determination lit his eyes. "Okay. Medical supplies and survival kits. Understood. But... how am I going to transport all this without it looking like I'm setting up a field hospital?"
"In large suitcases, well-packed, as if they were expensive sports equipment or musical instruments," Thiago replied, his mind already visualizing the process. "The presidential suites have plenty of space. And the hotel has valets and porters. No one will question large luggage in a luxury hotel. Just make sure the suitcases are discreet, without flashy logos. And avoid rigid suitcases; soft ones are easier to maneuver and disguise the contents."
"Gabriel," Thiago continued, turning to his studious friend, who was already scribbling notes in his notebook, his pen flying. "Your mission will be the logistics of long-term supplies and technology. Think total self-sufficiency. Portable diesel generators, high-efficiency foldable solar panels, state-of-the-art water purifiers, industrial air filters for the bunker, fast-growing vegetable seeds for hydroponic cultivation, specialized agricultural tools in case we need an outdoor garden. Research suppliers online, buy from different websites, use different shipping addresses if possible to avoid creating a pattern. Say it's for a university research project on 'self-sustaining infrastructure,' or for a 'green tech startup.' Something you, the 'nerd,' would do and that sounds plausible to your parents and the suppliers."
Gabriel nodded, his eyes already shining with the complexity of the challenge. "Resource management. Supply logistics. I can do that. The 'green tech startup' part... I'll have to rehearse my speech for my parents a bit; they're more skeptical than yours, Thiago." A slight smile, the first since Thiago had entered the room, crossed his lips, a sign that, despite the terror, Gabriel's mind was already adjusting.
"Sofia," Thiago said, turning to his pragmatic friend, who already had her phone in hand, ready for action. "Your task will be communication and tactical security. Long-range two-way radios, rugged walkie-talkies with encryption, high-capacity rechargeable batteries, solar chargers for electronics, detailed topographic maps of New York and surrounding areas, precision military compasses, state-of-the-art night vision binoculars, and even some small reconnaissance drones, camouflaged as high-tech toys or film equipment. You'll also be responsible for the sturdy clothing, combat boots, reinforced gloves, hunting knives, hatchets, and folding shovels. Buy everything from sporting goods stores, as if you were going on a long hiking expedition or nature photography project. Something you, the 'adventurer,' would do without arousing suspicion."
Sofia nodded, her eyes fixed on Thiago, a fire of determination ignited within her. "Understood. The clothing and equipment part is easy. The drones and radios... it'll be a challenge, but I can handle it. I thought I'd buy some pre-made survival kits too, to speed things up."
"Excellent idea, Sofia," Thiago approved. "Every kit counts. And I," Thiago concluded, his voice taking on a more somber tone, the weight of his own mission evident, "will be in charge of the firearms and the more specialized bladed weapons. Wilson Combat SFX9 pistols, MP5 submachine guns, and the M4A1 rifle. And plenty of ammunition. Thousands of rounds for each type of weapon. I need to interact directly with the store owners, build a relationship of trust for future purchases, if necessary. And, of course, the katana. I'll visit the man on 5th Avenue. He forges the best. If he has one ready, I'll ask him to just sharpen it. If not, I'll order it as soon as possible. And I'll start stocking up on non-perishable food and water in large quantities. We'll meet at the hotel the day before the meteor strike. From there, the plan accelerates."
He remembered the smell of gunpowder and blood, the sound of growls and screams, the feel of the cold blade in his hand. He remembered how, in the future, he had become a master of hand-to-hand combat, a silent ghost, capable of cutting down zombies with brutal efficiency. He remembered how Level 0 White was just the beginning, and how Level 1 Pale Green and Level 2 Moss Green were quickly overcome. He knew Level 3 would require heavy-caliber weapons, and Level 4, tanks. Level 5, nuclear bombs. And from Level 6 onward, desperation. He needed it all. And he needed it now.
The three friends looked at each other again, the magnitude of the task looming over them. The madness of the situation was undeniable, but Thiago's conviction was stronger. He had given them a plan, an escape route, a chance. And they trusted him.
"Okay," Lucas said, taking a deep breath, the jokester giving way to the serious man. "I'll call my parents now. And then the pharmacies and camping stores. I hope they have what you need." He was already walking away, phone to his ear, voice low, starting to rehearse the "luxury gift" story.
"Me too," Gabriel agreed, already moving to a more secluded corner, his mind already calculating the logistics. "I'll start researching water purifier suppliers. That'll require a good argument to my parents."
Sofia, with a firm nod, was already typing on her phone. "I'll notify my parents. And then look for reconnaissance drones. If the world is going to end, at least we'll have a bird's-eye view." A faint smile, a glimpse of her former self, crossed her lips as she began dialing.
Thiago watched them, a subtle but profound relief flooding his chest. They were on board. The first phase of the plan was underway. He remembered how, in the future, loneliness had been his constant companion, a heavy burden he carried alone. This time, he wouldn't be alone. This time, he would have a team. Small, but loyal. And with the knowledge of the future, they had a chance. A chance to fight the Level 0 White zombies that would soon emerge, and those that would evolve into Pale Green, Moss Green, Greenish Yellow, Burnt Yellow, Dull Orange, Orange Red, Blood Red, Dark Purple, Electric Blue, and Sparkling Black. He needed Mana, skills like Fire Magic, weapons that could cut through the tough flesh of evolved animals and pierce the hide of rhinoceros-like tigers. He needed to survive the sea and sky transformed into death zones. And he needed the money to buy all of this through his System, the secret that would keep him alive and, perhaps, save everyone. The race against time had begun, and with each passing second, hope, once a flickering flame, grew stronger.