There's a guy right in front of me, sweating like hell, pointing one of those metal tube objects at me. His voice came out shaky, like even he didn't believe what he was doing.
"This is exactly what you heard... this is a robbery!" he announced, stumbling over the words like someone tripping over their own principles.
"Bad luck for you, I'm broker than soap on ceramic. Not a single penny to offer."
"Y-you don't have anything? Then give me whatever you've got on you..."
"Wait a sec, you're not eyeing my buttico, are you?"
The buttico is sacred. I'd rather die than have the buttico defiled.
"Cut the crap or I'll shoot!" he yelled, pointing the metal tube straight at my forehead. His eyes were wide open, filled with fear.
"Then shoot. I'm a god."
He turned pale. Fell back like I'd just told him I was the new lead singer of Linkin Park.
And then...
"Bang"
A sharp, loud sound ripped through the air. Something warm trickled down the side of my face. I touched it with my fingers. Blood. For the first time in my entire existence, I had been hurt. And the worst part wasn't the pain — it was the fear.
I froze.
His fingers moved again. A second shot was inevitable. I knew it. This time he'd aim properly. This time...
"I'm going to die."
"I don't want to die."
In seconds, flashes of my existence rushed before my eyes — the boredom, the creation, the Uno, that cat's pee. All of it would end because of a human with shaky hands and lousy aim. Creation killing the creator. How ironic.
But then, just as the second shot was about to be fired...
"If you shoot again, you'll miss. Just like you've missed every attempt at passing the college entrance exam since 2016."
The voice thundered. Firm, sarcastic, and coming from behind the thief. He froze. I recognized it instantly.
Omnimaru.
"By the way, maybe you should be more worried about Júlia... you know, the one you call 'little cousin'? Yeah, she blocked you on Instagram yesterday after checking your search history. If I were you, I'd be more ashamed of that than of robbing an emo on the boardwalk."
The thief turned around, terrified.
"Wh-who are you?!"
"The karmic Wi-Fi from the bakery. And if you keep this nonsense up, I'll tell your mom that 'digital marketing course' you said you took was just a bunch of YouTube videos with clickbait thumbnails."
Dead silence.
The man dropped the gun. Then dropped to his knees. Sobbing. Ugly crying.
"I... I just wanted to buy a pastel and some sugarcane juice..." he whispered, before running away into the shadows like a traumatized NPC.
Omnimaru then walked over to me with the calm of someone who just finished shaving. He held out his hand.
"Need help or are you just gonna stand there like a doofus?"
"How'd you find me?"
"Easy. I just thought about where you'd feel the most secondhand embarrassment. Narrowed it down to Rio de Janeiro or Xique-Xique, Bahia."
I sighed. Still bleeding. Only slightly more relieved than someone who's just relieved themselves in a public restroom.
"And that whole free humiliation thing? Got a name for that, little Oni?"
"'Passive-Aggressive Omniscience.' And call me little Oni again and I'll use it on you."
"Good thing I made that teleportation orb."
Would've been awful if I hadn't left it there — I'd have just died.
Omnimaru crossed his arms, still visibly shaken, panting from adrenaline that wasn't even his.
"It's time to go back. Let's move."
"For the first time, I'm actually having fun. Don't start nagging."
"Then I'll have to drag you back," he shot back seriously.
"Then go ahead and try."
The tension between us thickened. That kind of silence that's not really silence — just a loud pause between two opposing wills.
After a few seconds, I gave in:
"Can't you understand? I finally feel... present. I'm experiencing things I've never felt. Thirst, heat, uncertainty... I like it. I don't know what's going to happen next, and somehow, that's... freeing."
Omnimaru didn't reply immediately. His gaze was a mix of frustration and... something closer to fear.
"You did all this without thinking about the consequences. Again."
That stung. Like a slap made of truth.
I grunted and looked at my wrist.
"Alright, you know what? Let's just get this over with."
I raised my hand dramatically, snapped my fingers, and yanked the limiter hard. Nothing.
Pulled even harder. Still nothing.
Tried twisting it. Pressing. Biting. Speaking in an ancient forbidden tongue. It just... glowed. Nothing more.
"Come off, you damn thing!"
I slammed my arm against a wall. The wall cracked — the bracelet didn't.
I grabbed a rock and tried to crush it. The rock turned to dust. The bracelet remained. Intact. Mocking me with its metallic silence.
"This is ridiculous," I muttered, now on my knees, staring at the artifact.
"We've found something that your finger snap can't fix. You created the only thing more stubborn than yourself," said Omnimaru, almost laughing.
"I should've added a button..."
"Or maybe you..." he stepped closer, "...didn't really want to take it off."
For the first time, Omnimaru's answer wasn't sarcastic.
"You wanted to feel trapped," he continued, "maybe so you could be free on the inside."
I stood up slowly. My body ached — not from exhaustion, but from existential discomfort.
"I hate when you make sense," I muttered.
"There you go. One more thing you can't take off," he replied with a smug half-smile.
I sighed. My eyes wandered across the orange sky of dusk. It was beautiful. Maybe... too beautiful for a day I almost died.
"If this was a mistake..." I whispered, "it was kind of fun."
We sat on the curb. He pulled out a cheap snack called "Trakitos" from his bag. Said he bought it while looking for me. I ate one. It was awful. I ate another.
I looked at the packaging and asked:
"Is this even food?"
"I don't know," Omnimaru replied, chewing with the expression of someone who's lost both taste and dignity, "but apparently humans like it."
"They also watch dance videos online. Maybe this is just an extension of the downfall."
"And you want to become one of them?"
"Well, I started with the stomach. The rest is just consequences."
That's when I felt a shiver. Subtle. Just that light discomfort when someone stares at you too long on a bus — not that I've ever ridden a bus.
On the opposite corner, between crooked lampposts and graffiti, a hooded woman watched us. Still. Unmoving. Like someone evaluating a questionable painting in a modern art museum.
Omnimaru noticed too, but said nothing.
"Too many eyes on you, Omê," he muttered. "This stopped being a game a while ago."
"That may be true, but if they give me a hollow pastel and lemon Pepsi, I'll let it slide."
Silence. Locked gazes.
"You're unbearable."
"And yet you came back for me. So who's the real unbearable one here?"
"You're the one who left an orb for me," he bragged like he'd just won the debate of the century.
I rolled my eyes and chewed another Trakito. I'm starting to think this "thing" is probably toxic.
The mistake had been made. And maybe... it was only just beginning.