The long-awaited day of the event in the brothers' tribe had finally arrived. The event began at the base of a mountain and ended at its peak. Their father made sure the boys started on opposite sides of the mountain, saying in his own words: "Only one can remain standing at the top of the mountain."
Even though Humaitá and Itararé were the sons of the tribe's chief and appeared powerful, the people still doubted them—and even mocked them—as if neither had the strength to reach the summit of the "Mantiqueira Tererê." This was because the tribe's most powerful warriors stood along the way to test the courage of anyone who aspired to the title of leader.
— Those boys won't make it to the top. This year's favorite is Bagual. They won't even see where the attack comes from.
A common tribesman said this as he watched the participants disappear into the forest at the beginning of the test.
Many battles took place. Humaitá and Itararé defeated every enemy they encountered along the way up the mountain—opponents with powers of fire, water, ice, storms, and even those who could merge with and control the earth itself. Victory after victory, the brothers pushed forward.
Until Humaitá came face to face with the tournament's favorite: Bagual. A fierce fight began near the top of Tererê. It was an intense exchange of punches and special powers, lasting over five straight days. Their blows echoed through the rocky formations, down to the mountain's base.
Despite the brutal, days-long battle, Humaitá emerged victorious. Even though Bagual had super-speed—just like his older brother—he was ultimately defeated by the future terrorist.
— Bagual… that was an amazing fight. But I'm the one who'll reach the top!
Leaving Bagual unconscious on the ground, Humaitá continued his journey, walking without rest for two more hours until he reached the mountain's summit.
From there, he looked down and saw everything below. He was awestruck by the view. His eyes, full of emotion, sparkled with wonder. The beauty overwhelmed him—he had never seen anything like it in his life. Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned quickly, startled, expecting an enemy.
— Hey hey, relax, brother—it's me, Humaitá!
The one who had arrived at the top alongside Humaitá was none other than his slightly older twin, Itararé. But while Humaitá's face was filled with joy and admiration, Itararé's expression was the complete opposite: gloomy and sorrowful.
Humaitá noticed this but tried to ignore it, attempting to maintain his youthful excitement.
— Look at this view, brother! We can see our whole village from here!
He tried to lighten the mood, even though deep down, he knew what was coming. They both did.
— Humaitá, listen to me! Stop trying to ignore what must happen from now on… You know that "only one will remain standing at the top of the mountain." You know what that means!
Humaitá fell silent. The silence stretched on for a long five minutes. Finally, he turned to his brother. His expression was conflicting—he smiled, as if happy, but tears streamed down his face like a child denied what he wanted. Amid sobs, he spoke:
— There's no other choice… is there, Itararé?
His brother simply nodded, offering a smile in an attempt to comfort him.
Then they got into position—just like in the memory that had sparked all this—the same way it had all begun. Both brothers wore big smiles on their faces as they prepared to relive that moment.
It started with the same strike that was both a greeting and an attack. The two brothers clashed with full force—punches, kicks, uppercuts with both arms, jabs—they gave it everything. The sound and shockwaves from their strikes could be heard and felt from the mountaintop all the way to a place five kilometers away.
Participants and villagers climbed the mountain to witness the battle firsthand. What was once mockery and doubt turned to respect and admiration.
Their fight lasted for days, surpassing even the five-day record of Humaitá's battle against Bagual. Rain or shine, wind or calm, they continued. Their fists pounded each other's bodies, headbutts flew, and their dances—stronger than even their father's—collided in a duel that seemed endless in its beauty and emotional weight.
But like all things, the fight had to end. On the fifteenth day, both brothers had reached their physical limits. Humaitá landed a powerful punch to Itararé's face, knocking him to the ground.
"Please… I beg you… don't get up. I don't want to keep doing this!"
But to Humaitá's despair, his brother rose again and resumed the attack. Itararé threw a right punch, which landed—but even as Humaitá took the hit, he struck back with a punch to his brother's stomach that sent him crashing to the ground once more.
"Don't get up… don't get up… please don't get up!"
But once again, Itararé stood. Exhausted, on the verge of passing out—not just from the blows, but from fifteen straight days of battle.
Seeing this, Humaitá simply dropped to the ground, sitting and smiling at his brother. The entire crowd was stunned by the chief's son's decision. Humaitá took a deep breath, and all eyes watched him closely, waiting for what he would say.
— Well… I, Humaitá, surrender—
Before he could finish, Itararé shouted, his voice cutting through everything:
— I surrender the fight!
Humaitá was shocked and immediately burst into tears, saddened by his brother's decision.
— B-but… what about your dream?!
Itararé simply smiled and gazed at the mountain's breathtaking view, then said calmly and gently:
— Don't worry about that silly dream. Maybe I couldn't fulfill it myself… but my brother did it for me. And that makes me happy and fulfilled.
He stretched a bit, took a deep breath, and relaxed, admiring the view.
— That was the most fun dream of my life!
Those words hit Humaitá deeply. His tear-streaked face trembled with emotion. Itararé walked over, extending his fist in a gesture of respect, a smile on his face full of pride and peace.
— Brother, just promise me you'll be a good pajé.
Humaitá continued to cry, but managed a smile. Now, his tears were ones of joy.
— There's no other way, is there, brother?
They bumped fists. Then, the older twin walked away. Their father sentenced Itararé to death, refusing to allow a loser, deserter, or quitter to live in their bloodline.
Back in the present day—during the fight between Kura and Humaitá—the terrorist bore a smile, speaking softly to himself:
— I can't surrender or die… not without giving it my all. After all, I couldn't face my brother in the afterlife if I died without taking this seriously!
Kura was confused by these words, but quickly snapped to attention when he saw Humaitá's body moving. The tribal warrior spoke again, this time referencing the hour:
— I see we're close to nightfall… So let's start the evening with one of my most powerful and beautiful dances!