Dawn on the Island
The island's dawn brought dense fog, covering almost the entire coast.
The Moth glided silently above the trees, its four wings reflecting a bluish light over the uneven terrain. Memba followed below, firm steps, incandescent claws lightly burning the air with every touch on the wet rock. The little Pink Chimera hopped from shoulder to shoulder, spreading small flames that seemed to dance with the wind.
"Today begins," said Memba, voice firm, yellow eyes glowing. "We'll test our strength, but without exposing ourselves unnecessarily."
The island was silent. No signs of humans or security agents. But they knew: once they reached the mainland, chaos would be immediate.
Preparation
The five points the humanoid had designated were not simple. Each chimera had a specific target:
Memba would advance in the central sector of the city, creating distractions and neutralizing agents without destroying critical structures.
Moth would fly above, monitoring and guiding Memba and Pink Chimera, intercepting any aerial reinforcements.
Pink Chimera would stay close to Memba, ready to protect and create minimal fire barriers if needed.
Goat-Fetopea would take a lateral sector, infiltrating discreetly and blocking human escape routes.
Cow-Rabbit would operate on the opposite side, as a containment force, ensuring no interference reached the cube or the human carrying Aris's DNA.
"Divided," said the Moth, hovering above them all, "we are more vulnerable, but also more efficient."
Memba took a deep breath.
"We cannot repeat past mistakes. Peba…" — he paused, remembering the small flame Rosa had left at the makeshift memorial — "He died from carelessness. We cannot fail."
Arrival on the Mainland
The flight was silent, except for the constant beat of the Moth's wings. Breaking through the fog, the city revealed itself: tall buildings, busy streets, security agents patrolling in small groups, drones hovering.
"This is where the test begins," murmured Memba. "Let's split and act."
They dispersed.
Strategic Chaos
In the center, Memba slid between cars and civilians unseen, the glowing claws only illuminating the path. Every movement was calculated. Every step minimized risk.
Above, the Moth monitored patrol points. Its blue eyes shone like beacons, detecting any approach.
"Memba, left. Two humans. Avoid exposure."
Pink Chimera advanced silently, forming bluish fire walls that created safe paths for Memba.
Further ahead, Goat-Fetopea neutralized small groups of agents, firm paws and quick movements preventing anyone from fleeing or calling reinforcements.
"Sector clear," it communicated through the rudimentary telepathy they shared.
Meanwhile, Cow-Rabbit maintained pressure on another point in the city, attentive eyes, hooves resonating down the streets, intimidating approaching humans.
The Cube
The humanoid, invisible, moved through the operation's core, maintaining constant contact with the cubes. Every vibration analyzed. Every pulse synchronized with Memba, Moth, and Pink Chimera, ensuring no one could detect the energy before the right moment.
"Almost there," it murmured, analyzing Aris's DNA in real time. "The information is close."
But something unexpected happened: one of the security drones detected an energy signature. The Moth quickly intercepted it, deflecting it with a powerful flap of its wings, creating a shockwave that disabled nearby sensors.
"We have company," said the Moth, now alert.
First Confrontation
A small group of agents advanced to investigate. Memba blocked their path without unnecessary destruction. With precise movements, he incapacitated two agents temporarily.
Pink Chimera created a wall of blue flames, not to kill, but to cut lines of sight.
"This is how we do it," Memba said to the others, through telepathy. "No spectacle. No unnecessary deaths. Just efficiency."
Cow-Rabbit, noticing the mission was becoming riskier, activated a minimal barrier, forcing the agents to retreat and opening the way for the humanoid's infiltration.
The Trigger
While the chimeras maintained controlled chaos, a new presence was felt. A different energy signature, older, more powerful, vibrating familiarly.
"This…" murmured the Moth, wings trembling. "This is not human…"
The little Pink Chimera shivered on Memba's shoulder.
"Is it him?" she asked mentally.
"Not yet," replied Memba. "But we'll find out."
The city was on alert, but the group moved with precision. The first step toward the next chapter, involving Aris and the human carrying his DNA, was already underway.
The plan was far from over, but the chimeras had proven they were not just weapons—they were strategists, protectors, and forces the world would have to recognize.
Café — Trofalls and Beker
The café was almost empty that morning. The low sound of the espresso machine filled the silence between the tables. Trofalls placed a thin envelope on the table in front of Beker.
"This is Araque's report."
Beker picked up the paper, opened it… and frowned.
"Just one page?"
"Literally one page," replied Trofalls. "He's a shipsh, from a secret State unit. I'd heard of him, but very little. Within the unit, they say he's an average recruit. Nothing special."
Beker turned the page, as if expecting hidden information.
"So what's the problem?"
Trofalls leaned forward.
"The background. Everything confiscated. All records deleted or sealed. Yes, it's normal for shipsh to hide parts of an agent's history… but usually only certain events. Sensitive missions. Elite operations. Extremely specific cases.
"But Araque isn't elite. He has no notable history. So why delete everything?"
"Could be internal protocol. We are police. Shipsh is another area. We have no access."
"I know," said Trofalls. "Officially, they confirmed he belongs to the unit… but they gave no information. They just left him as if it were none of our business."
The sound of a cup hitting the counter echoed in the background.
"Do you think he's more than he seems?"
Trofalls was silent for a few seconds.
"My power is still confused with him."
Beker raised his eyebrows.
"Confused how?"
"It's like there's something blocking. Like I'm looking at a silhouette with no defined outlines. It's not normal."
"And we still have Amenba… who killed Daniel. We're locking him up. Officially, case closed. But…"
"But you don't think it's that simple," Beker finished.
Trofalls nodded.
"I feel like we shouldn't close our eyes now. Something is happening. Something bigger. And we're not seeing it."
Beker looked at the one-page report.
"Araque. Amenba. An agent with an erased past. A murder that seems too straightforward.
"Do you think they're connected?"
Trofalls looked out the café window.
"I don't know. But I'm sure of one thing… this isn't a coincidence."
The heavy atmosphere after Trofalls' words lasted only a few seconds.
Beker looked at him, shook his head, and said:
"Bored… you really can't help yourself."
Trofalls frowned.
"What?"
Beker began rummaging through his coat pockets, hurried.
"Wait a sec."
He pulled out a small box.
Trofalls looked suspicious.
"I'm not dysfunctional, okay?"
Beker widened his eyes.
"Wrong medicine!"
He quickly swapped it and pulled out a pack of condoms.
"Forgot this too."
Trofalls laughed.
"You're unbelievable."
Beker dug again and pulled out a crumpled paper.
"Ah, and there's this number here too…"
Trofalls picked up the paper, read it for a split second, and returned it.
"You're hopeless."
"Shut up, son of a—" Beker stifled a laugh.
He kept digging like a clumsy magician.
"Wait, wait… not yet."
Finally, he pulled out a book.
"Found it."
Trofalls took the book and read the title:
Economics of Humor: How to Manage Happiness and Serious Moments
He started laughing.
"What is this now?"
Beker crossed his arms, pretending seriousness.
"Economics is balance. Taxes, gains, losses. Happiness is the same. You manage light moments and serious ones. If you only live in weight… you break."
Trofalls laughed loudly.
"Sir advisor… your friend who can't 'get up' anymore keeps going to his cousins' house after the search is over… and now he wants to give me advice?"
Beker was silent for two seconds.
Then he laughed too.
"At least I try to be happy, miserable."
The two laughed loudly, drawing the attention of a few café patrons.
After a while, Beker and Trofalls parted ways.
Cemetery
The laughter stayed at the café.
As soon as Trofalls separated from Beker, his smile disappeared.
The sky was gray as he passed through the cemetery gates. The city's sounds seemed distant here. Only footsteps on the gravel.
He walked to Daniel's grave.
Paused for a few seconds, in silence.
Then he knelt.
From inside his coat, he took out an old watch. Not expensive. Not sophisticated. But it was the watch Daniel wore almost every day.
"You were always late…" murmured Trofalls, with a broken half-smile. "And still never took this off your wrist."
He placed the watch on the tombstone.
His fingers trembled slightly.
The silence grew heavy.
Then he broke down.
The crying came without warning, without control. No posture. No police. No power.
Just a friend.
"I wanted to see you again…" His voice faltered. "Even in a dream. Any sign. A… stupid meme like we used to send each other."
He laughed through tears.
"You didn't have the right to leave like this."
The wind passed lightly through the trees.
Trofalls rested his forehead on the cold stone.
"I didn't get to enjoy… anything. And now you can't either."
The words flowed as if he were emptying something held for weeks.
Fear. Guilt. Rage. Doubt.
"I promise I'll get justice. But sometimes… I just wish you were here to tell me I'm overreacting."
The crying subsided gradually.
Only heavy breathing remained.
He stayed there kneeling until the sky began to darken.
When he finally stood, his gaze was no longer just sadness.
The watch remained.
But something inside Trofalls stayed there too.
And something else… awakened.
Leaving the Cemetery
Trofalls slowly passed through the gates.
The air seemed different outside. Lighter. Or maybe he just felt emptier.
He sighed deeply.
Raised his hand and hailed a taxi.
Entered without saying much. Just the address. Low voice. Distant gaze.
The car began to move.
He leaned his head against the window.
The city continued alive.
People crossing the street. A woman watering plants on a balcony. Children chasing a ball. Sky opening between clouds.
Trofalls watched in silence.
"The street is… beautiful," he murmured.
It was strangely calm.
Even with noise. Even with hidden chaos. It just… continues.
He was hypnotized for a few seconds.
Until something changed.
His gaze focused ahead.
His heart raced slightly.
"Stop here," he suddenly said to the taxi driver.
The car hadn't fully stopped yet when he was already opening the door.
On the sidewalk, across the street…
Duda.
Standing. Looking at a building. Too focused for someone "just passing by."
Something wasn't right.
Trofalls paid quickly and got out.
The world that had seemed calm seconds before…
Now felt charged with intent.
And he knew.
On the Street
Trofalls crossed the street with firm steps.
"What are you looking at?"
Duda didn't startle. Just pointed to a paper stuck to a post.
"Nothing much. Look at this."
Trofalls approached.
An official notice.
Water consumption tax.
He blinked.
"This is serious?"
Duda crossed her arms.
"Water shouldn't have a tax."
Trofalls tilted his head.
"Barrateira… you don't pay your taxes, huh?"
She slowly turned to him.
"Crazy is you."
She pointed to the paper again.
"Water tax!?"
He tried to maintain a serious police posture.
"Technically, everything can be taxed."
"Then are they going to tax the air too?" she countered.
"Don't give ideas."
Duda stared at him.
"You just left the cemetery, didn't you?"
Trofalls stayed silent for half a second.
"I did."
She observed his face. Eyes still slightly red.
"And even so you stop in the street to argue about water tax with me?"
He shrugged.
"Sometimes arguing about absurd things is better than thinking about real ones."
Duda softened her expression.
But unlike the playful tone, something felt off.
Duda wasn't just looking at the tax.
She was observing the building in front of her.
And Trofalls noticed.
"You didn't stop here because of a tax."
She paused for two seconds before responding.
"No."
The mood shifted.
The street remained beautiful. Calm.
But now… full of possibility.
Duda wasn't here by accident.
In Front of the Building
Trofalls observed the building carefully.
Old façade. Some windows closed. Others with heavy curtains.
"All signs point to this building…" he murmured. "Even this absurd water tax seems like a clue something is wrong here."
Duda sighed.
"I still think water tax is a cosmic injustice."
"Charging for something essential is at least questionable."
She looked sideways.
"Are you here because of the building or the water?"
He didn't answer directly.
She adjusted her bag on her shoulder.
"I'm here for something else."
"What?"
She hesitated.
"It's kind of… silly."
Trofalls crossed his arms.
"After water tax, nothing surprises me anymore."
She looked up, as if deciding.
"I saw an ad. A discount. I want to buy something."
"What?"
"Very important."
"Very important like 'save the world' or very important like 'flash sale'?"
She closed her eyes for a second.
"Very, very, very important."
Trofalls analyzed the building.
"No open sign, no closed sign. Seems empty."
"It's not closed," she insisted. "There's still an apartment occupied. That's where they're selling it."
He looked at her. Then at the street. Then at her.
Silence.
"I'm going up."
She turned quickly.
"What?"
"I'll be buying it too."
"You don't even know what it is!"
"Exactly. Better that way."
She sighed deeply.
"This is a terrible idea."
He stopped at the door.
Looked at his reflection in the glass.
For a second… his power vibrated.
Not fear. Not a direct threat.
Something unusual.
He looked at her again.
"Last chance to tell me what it is."
She swallowed.
"I really don't know if I should."
Inside the Building
The hallway was narrow.
Dim light. Indefinable smell. Old doors.
Duda stopped before climbing the stairs.
"I don't know exactly what they're selling…" she admitted. "I saw an ad for a specific swamp."
Trofalls blinked.
"A swamp?"
"Yes. A specific swamp."
"You want to buy… a swamp?"
"Not literally the entire land! It's related. I just… can't explain."
He sighed.
"So you don't know what they're selling but want to buy it?"
"Exactly."
He ran his hand over his face.
"Okay. Then I'll buy it too."
"You don't even know what it is!"
"Precisely. I'll try to buy something normal. Nothing problematic."
He continued:
"And if it's badly made stuff… like suspicious meat, weird mixtures, the kind that gives problems… then I won't buy."
Duda crossed her arms.
"You're dramatizing."
"I'm not. I don't know what you're buying. So I'll try to get something decent. Normal. Nothing problematic."
He kept going.
"You're a police officer too. If this is illegal and I buy something… technically I could claim I was on an operational support mission."
She stopped mid-stair.
"Support for what?!"
"I didn't say it's illegal."
"You insinuated!"
"I didn't! I just said, in case it's illegal, I'll be ready to stop it."
She pointed at him.
"I didn't say I'm buying it for myself!"
"Then who is it for?"
Silence.
She looked away.
"None of your business."
He tilted his head.
"José."
She frowned.
"What?"
"You said 'no, José' with such conviction I thought someone named José was involved."
She sighed.
"You're impossible."
He smirked slightly.
"I'm just making sure nobody buys mysterious pig skin disguised as gourmet."
She resumed climbing.
"It's not food."
"Then what is it?"
"Very important."
"That I already figured out."
They reached the floor.
A door at the end was ajar.
A different light came from inside.
Silence.
Trofalls felt his power vibrate slightly.
Not fear. Not direct threat.
Something extraordinary.
He looked at Duda.
"Last chance to tell me."
She swallowed.
"I really don't know if I should."
The door creaked by itself.
"If it's just a sale, I'll pay for coffee."
If not…
He didn't finish the sentence.
But she understood.
Door Range
The door creaked dramatically for the size of the place.
Trofalls entered first.
The apartment was small. Old sofa. Plastic table. Full ashtray.
And in the middle of the room…
A creature.
Too tall for the ceiling. Greenish skin. Eyes pointing slightly in different directions. Four arms… but only two seemed functional. A tail curled over