Three weeks had passed since Vila Esperança, since the moment he touched the prototype and something impossible happened before witnesses. The success had been absolute — clean water flowing in impossible quantities, Dona Maria crying with joy, the community celebrating as if it were a miracle.
But the questions wouldn't stop. Especially Professor Henrique's.
Questions about "exceptional intuition" and "inexplicable experiences with the laws of physics" arrived disguised as academic curiosity, but they carried an investigative weight that made Gabriel wake in cold sweats.
And then there was Sofia. She had documented everything with journalistic eyes that saw more than they should. Gabriel hadn't missed the way she lingered on a specific photo on her laptop — a fraction of a second captured where his hands seemed to emanate a subtle, distortion-like light over the equipment. She hadn't mentioned it, but he had seen the filename saved in her folder: "impossible.jpg".
The manifestations weren't stopping. The keychain heated up more frequently. Small "glitches" happened around him when the Resilients needed them — equipment functioning beyond capacity, solutions appearing in his mind with supernatural clarity.
Gabriel needed answers. And there was only one place where he could find the root of it all.
...
The air in Santos had a different taste — cleaner, less charged with humidity and impossible promises. Gabriel breathed deeply when he stepped out of the airport, feeling the familiarity of a climate he'd forgotten he missed fill his lungs.
December in São Paulo meant dry heat, a faded blue sky, and a sea breeze that arrived with the smell of salt and nostalgia. It was the complete opposite of Belém's heavy, constant embrace. For the first time in months, Gabriel didn't feel his shirt sticking to his back like a second skin.
"Welcome back, stranger," said a familiar voice behind him.
Gabriel turned to find his father, Roberto, leaning against the car with a smile that mixed paternal affection and subtle assessment. At fifty-two, he maintained the straight posture of someone who had spent decades in corporate offices, but there was genuine satisfaction in his eyes seeing his son — and something more. A concern he couldn't completely disguise.
"Hi, Dad," Gabriel said, accepting the embrace. It lasted a bit longer than usual. "Thanks for picking me up."
"As if I'd let your mother do this alone. She probably would have come with a 'Welcome Home, Belém Hero' banner." Roberto took Gabriel's suitcase but paused to study his son. "You look... different. More solid, I don't know. Like you found something important."
If you only knew how important, Gabriel thought. He smiled with the naturalness he'd learned to fake. "Belém did me good. Gave me purpose."
"Purpose," Roberto repeated, testing the word. "Your mother couldn't stop talking about the news reports. Water project, social innovation... she's too proud to fit inside the house."
...
The family home was fifteen minutes from the airport, on a tree-lined street that Gabriel knew like the lines of his own hand. Meticulously maintained gardens, new cars gleaming in garages, the kind of financial stability that allowed worries about "future careers" instead of "survival."
But now, looking with eyes that had seen the dignified simplicity of Vila Esperança, Gabriel noticed something he'd never perceived before: a certain sterility in the perfection. An emotional distance in the impeccable organization.
His mother, Helena, waited on the porch — a university Literature professor with thirty years of experience, she knew how to transform any occasion into a moment.
"My son," she said, the embrace tighter than his father's. "You're thinner. And taller? Is that possible at twenty-two?" She held him by the shoulders, her eyes cataloguing every change. "Is Belém feeding you properly?"
"Mom, I know how to cook," Gabriel laughed, but the sound was more mature, deeper than he remembered. "And there's a cafeteria at the university that makes incredible regional food. You'd love it."
"Gabriel!"
The voice came from upstairs like a missile of enthusiasm, followed by the thundering sound of feet on stairs. His sister, Sofia, appeared in the living room like a hurricane of teenage energy.
But she stopped abruptly when she saw him.
At sixteen, she was in that crucial phase where she seemed to grow a few centimeters with each meeting. Glasses slightly crooked over eyes that had always been too attentive for her age.
"You really disappeared," she said. She didn't approach immediately. She stood two meters away, studying him with an intensity that made Gabriel feel like a specimen under a microscope.
"Sofia," Helena gently reprimanded, "let your brother breathe."
"No, it's okay," Gabriel said, but the unease settled in his stomach. "It's just that... Belém is intense. Lots of new things."
"You have scars that weren't there before," Sofia said directly, ignoring their mother. "Not physical ones. But they're there. And you move differently now."
She tilted her head with scientific curiosity. "Like you know exactly where everyone is in a space, even without looking directly. Like a predator checking the perimeter."
Gabriel felt his blood freeze. The observation was too specific. Too precise.
"And sometimes," she continued, "when you think nobody's paying attention, your eyes get... distant. Like you're seeing something the rest of us can't see. Or remembering something that shouldn't be possible to remember."
The silence that followed was loaded with palpable tension.
"Sofia," Helena said, firmer this time. "Enough. Your brother just arrived."
"No, it's fine," Gabriel replied, his voice controlled. "You were always too observant for your own good, Sofi."
Sofia smiled, but it was a smile that carried dangerous knowledge. "Observant enough to know when my brother is carrying secrets that are too big for one person."
...
Lunch was a carefully orchestrated version of the family chaos Gabriel remembered fondly. His parents asked the expected questions about university and projects. He answered with edited versions of the truth. Enactus became "a student organization," the Resilientes became "a talented team," and his powers became "luck."
Lying to strangers was strategy. Lying to family felt like betrayal.
"And a girlfriend?" Helena asked with the universally recognizable maternal subtext. "Any special girl caught your attention?"
"Mom..." Gabriel began.
"It's just that you were always very reserved about these things," she continued. "Remember Mariana? You two were so close during high school, and suddenly..."
The name fell into the conversation like a stone thrown in still water. Concentric waves of discomfort washed over the table.
"Mariana is well," Roberto said quickly, changing subjects with the subtlety of a veteran. "Works at Enactus Brasil now. Regional coordinator, from what I heard."
Gabriel almost choked on his lasagna. "She... what?"
"Didn't you know?" Sofia raised an eyebrow, interested again. "She always comes back for the holidays. She's here now, actually. Arrived yesterday from Fortaleza."
The silence that followed was the type that transforms family lunches into emotional minefields.
"The lasagna is excellent, Helena," Roberto said loudly.
"Thank you, dear," she replied. But her eyes didn't leave Gabriel.
And Sofia continued observing everything, cataloguing the data.
...
In the afternoon, Gabriel managed to escape the house with the excuse of meeting high school friends. He desperately needed air. He needed space that wasn't filled with well-intentioned expectations.
The meeting point was the kiosk on the beach boardwalk. Plastic tables, view of the sea, and the smell of fried snacks.
When he arrived, the trio was already there: Pedro (Law at FGV, casual arrogance included), Lucas (Medicine at USP, perpetually tired), and Thiago (Bartender course, the peacemaker).
"Look who's back from the end of the world!" Pedro shouted, raising his beer. "The Amazon conqueror! What's it like living in the middle of the forest surrounded by alligators?"
Gabriel sat down, accepting a beer he didn't want. "Belém isn't the middle of the forest, Pedro. It's a metropolis of over a million people."
"Ah, but it's almost that, right?" Lucas said with a condescending tone. "Must be full of tropical diseases, infernal heat... Honestly, I don't understand why you went there. You could have stayed here, done a decent college."
Irritation rose up Gabriel's throat. "UFPA is an excellent university. And the projects we're developing have real impact."
"Sure, sure," Thiago intervened. "Nobody's questioning that. It's just... man, Santos is your home. Your friends are here. Why go so far?"
The question seemed innocent, but Gabriel realized he didn't have a true answer he could share.
"I wanted something different," he said finally. "Something that would really challenge me."
"Different you got," Pedro laughed. "But so, anything interesting happening? Parties, women, things that make life worth living?"
Gabriel began an automatic response, but the words died in his throat.
Mariana was walking along the boardwalk.
She was wearing a light blue summer dress that highlighted her bronzed skin. Sunglasses couldn't hide a smile that radiated a confidence Gabriel didn't remember her having at seventeen. She seemed... complete. Successful.
When she looked toward the kiosk, Gabriel felt the world slow down. She stopped mid-step.
"Man, you went white as paper," Pedro said. "Shit, it's Mariana!"
She said something to her friends, then walked toward them with steps that were decided.
"Hi, everyone," she said, her voice deeper, carrying natural authority. "Pedro, Lucas, Thiago." Then her eyes met Gabriel's. "Gabriel."
The way she said his name was loaded with meaning. Not intimate, not distant, but heavy with shared history.
"Hi, Mari," he replied, standing automatically.
The embrace was quick, but Gabriel felt her perfume — something floral, sophisticated. The scent of a woman who had found her place in the world.
"I heard you're in Belém," she said. "Doing incredible things."
"And I heard you work at Enactus Brasil."
She smiled with genuine pride. "North-Northeast regional coordinator. Who would have thought? I ended up going exactly toward the side you used to mock when we were teenagers."
The reference was precise as a scalpel. Pedro coughed. Lucas looked at his phone.
"Mari," Gabriel began.
"Well," she interrupted gracefully, noticing the tension. "I don't want to interrupt the reunion. It's good to see you, Gabriel. Really. I'm happy you found your passion."
She started to walk away, then turned one last time.
"Gabriel... if you want to talk before going back to Belém, you know where to find me. My parents still live in the same place."
When she disappeared, Thiago broke the silence. "Man, what was that tension? Did you guys date or what?"
"No," Gabriel replied too quickly. "It was... complicated."
"Seems like it still is," Lucas murmured.
Gabriel couldn't answer. He was thinking about how Mariana had said "you know where to find me." Not as a romantic invitation, but as an offering of closure.
...
That night, after a dinner of forced normalcy, Gabriel discovered sleep was impossible. The house was silent, but his mind was loud.
He put on a sweatshirt and walked out into the streets he used to know better than his own name.
His feet led him to the neighborhood park—the same one where he had awakened months ago, disoriented and broken.
The park was empty, illuminated by yellow streetlights. Gabriel sat on the same bench, looking at the tree he used to climb. It was strange being back. Everything seemed smaller. Mundane. Stripped of the epic grandeur memory had lent it.
But then he closed his eyes and felt.
The energy was still there. Residual. A microscopic scar in the fabric of reality.
This is the place, he thought. Where everything began. And where everything ended.
That's when the true memory came. Not a fragmented flashback, but a complete revelation.
[System Access: Memory File 'Departure'.]
[Playback Initiated.]
It wasn't ligh t— it was the total absence of darkness. It wasn't sound — it was the impossible echo of absolute silence shattering.
Gabriel was being torn apart. Every atom of his being catalogued, dismantled, prepared for a journey his human mind couldn't comprehend.
"Return is always harder than departure," said the voice he loved most, laden with infinite sadness. "Because you come back knowing exactly what you lost."
"Will it hurt?" he had asked, holding her hand.
"It will hurt in ways you don't have words to describe," Luna replied with brutal honesty. "But the pain will prove it was real. That you lived something extraordinary."
The last thing he saw before the world exploded was her face. Luna. Engraved on his retina and heart.
When he woke on the park bench, hours or years later, he looked at his fingers. They were still there. But he was no longer the same person.
[Playback Ended.]
Gabriel opened his eyes in the park, tears streaming down his face.
"Gabriel?"
He turned quickly, wiping his eyes. Mariana was standing a few meters away, wearing a light jacket over pajamas, car keys in hand.
"Mari? What are you doing here at this hour?"
"Couldn't sleep," she said, approaching slowly. "Was driving aimlessly and saw you here." She stopped at a respectful distance. "Can I sit?"
Gabriel gestured to the space beside him.
For several minutes, they stayed in silence.
"You always came here when you were confused," she said finally. "Or when you needed to process something too big to fit inside the house."
"Still do, apparently," Gabriel replied.
"Want to talk about what left you crying alone in the park at two in the morning?"
Gabriel looked at her. Really looked at her. Mariana wasn't Sofia, digging for secrets. She wasn't his mother, looking for achievements. She was just... present.
"I remembered something," he whispered. "Something I thought I had lost."
"A memory?"
"A promise."
Mariana looked at the empty swings swaying in the breeze. "Promises are tricky things, Gabriel. Sometimes we keep them by breaking them."
She turned to him, her eyes kind but sharp in the yellow light.
"You're not the boy who left, Gabriel. And that's okay. But you need to decide if you're back because you want to be here... or because you're hiding from where you really belong."
Gabriel didn't have an answer. Because deep down, underneath the optimization and the new life, he knew the truth.
He wasn't back.
He was just waiting for the war to find him again.