Observando a forte brisa do lado de fora a da janela balançar as folhas e galhos da árvore no jardim, Mary vestiu o sobretudo antes de sair. Apenas alguns dias atrás, o calor era tão intenso que alguns brincavam que você poderia até fritar um ovo no asfalto. No final, todos descartaram isso como um evento passageiro provocado pelo aquecimento global constante, mas também desejavam chuva, esperando que o clima se tornasse um pouco mais suportável.
E, de fato, as nuvens vieram - estranhas o suficiente para fazer aqueles que as desejavam se arrependerem - mas nem uma única gota caiu em qualquer lugar do mundo.
No entanto, agora, não mais do que três dias depois, uma onda de frio, chegando sem qualquer aviso, atingiu a todos, em todo o mundo.
"Lian!" ela gritou, enquanto pegava sua bolsa do sofá. "Eu já liguei para a escola e avisei que você não vai para a aula hoje. Descanse e sem jogos! Deixei um pouco de sopa pronta no fogão - tente comer um pouco. E seu pai disse que vai tentar voltar mais cedo para passar a tarde com você.
Abrindo a porta que se estendia por mais de dois metros de altura, o vento frio queimou seu rosto, e a visão estranha e inquietante chamou sua atenção mais uma vez.
'... Ele disse que é apenas uma leve dor de cabeça e febre, então ele deve ficar bem, certo...?' Olhando para trás, ela olhou para o filho na janela do segundo andar. Um aceno, mas nenhuma resposta. Tossindo, Lian se abaixou atrás da parede. 'Eu disse a ele para reduzir o tempo no computador!'
De frente para o celular, ela hesitou: '... Talvez seja realmente melhor se eu ligar e disser que não irei... Não.' Mary enfiou o dispositivo na bolsa. Mesmo com luvas, suas mãos tremiam com o vento frio. 'Arthur estará de volta em breve... tudo deve ficar bem.
Foi há dois dias - um dia depois que o calor infernal diminuiu - que nuvens vermelhas e sinistras tomaram conta dos céus. Sua intensa tonalidade carmesim emitia um brilho fraco, resultado de ainda ser diretamente atingido pela luz total do sol. O caos foi imediato, pois não importa para onde ou de que ângulo se olhasse, eles estavam sempre lá, imóveis e cheios de raios que só tornavam a cena ainda mais assustadora.
Rapidamente, Mary correu para o carro preto estacionado em frente à garagem. A porta se abriu silenciosamente após um breve clique, e o painel de alta tecnologia se iluminou em boas-vindas. Removendo as luvas, ela soprou nas mãos antes de agarrar o volante.
"That's because I remembered to turn the heater on beforehand—tsk! And they even said it was a model that needs no introduction for being so good... even after twenty minutes, it's barely made any difference. If it got just a little colder, it'd be exactly like it is outside."
Her fingers tapped on the steering wheel, keeping time with the slow rhythm of the music on the radio. And so she drove along a road where, apart from the clouds overhead and the few people hurrying along the streets, as if racing from one point to another, she could easily say that she was in a ghost town.
The change came when the radio channel switched, discussing the hottest topic of recent days—the strange weather and the red clouds looming over everything. Whether it was scientists, researchers, or satellite images, no relevant information about the situation had been uncovered in recent days, leaving the whole world in the dark and allowing only theories to be spun. The most discussed theory wasn't exactly about what had caused these events, but rather about what might possibly happen at the end of it all: a rain of blood, many said on forums scattered across the internet. Initially, it was, of course, just a joke. However, as the number of lightning strikes slicing through the skies increased and darkness persisted throughout the world, some even began to question whether this was really just a "joke."
"Will it all end if the 'blood' falls upon us..?" some wondered.
Not everyone possesses the strength of mind to remain steadfast in the face of desperate situations—some people break. These are the ones who gave up in the early hours, wishing for at least a quick and painless death. But nobody died. At least, not due to anything related to the heavens. The lightning didn't strike, for some reason, and merely continued to crisscross the clouds from side to side. As for the rain, it never gave any sign of existence.
"...As full as yesterday," Mary said as she turned a corner and encountered a church so packed that several people were forced to watch the service from outside. "No... I believe there are even more people today."
At some point, a new theory emerged and grew at a surprising rate. Based on biblical precepts, it was one of the main reasons its spread was so rapid. The initial idea was simple: if God said "Let there be light" when creating the world, could He be punishing us for our multitude of sins by withdrawing that blessing?
The big truth, however, was that no one was sure about anything; no one could affirm anything. Regardless of belief or idea, everyone just wanted it all to be over and for a new day to finally begin. But fear is destructive, and doubt quickly turned into a plague, to which many desperately sought solace in the nearest points of faith.
"Good morning, Mrs. Mary," said the receptionist. A smile graced her face, and a vacant look adorned her eyes.
"...Good morning, Cler."
Any sign of enthusiasm was non-existent. And, once again, the journey to the elevator made it all the more evident.
Expressionless stares and desolate faces—everyone walked back and forth, dutifully performing their jobs as part of a sad routine, merely in the vain attempt to keep their minds occupied with something. In fact, Mary noticed that fewer people were coming in compared to the previous day.
The smiles of those who had once adorned the space with chatter and laughter were gone. Two members of the team weren't even present. Now, they did just the bare minimum, and in an almost morbid, deafening silence. Nobody died, yet everyone behaved as if it was only a matter of time.
Adjusting her blazer, Mary walked over to her desk as she analyzed the text that had been handed to her. The production staff around her remained silent, and only the movement of equipment generated any noise in the space.
"Okay, are you ready, Mary?" the producer asked. She responded with a nod.
The final order initiated the broadcast.
"Good morning," she said, looking directly into the camera. "As confirmed last night, the United States' borders have been completely closed until further notice. And in Mexico, the war has ended. The cartels took full control of the country in the early hours of today.
In Brazil, cities have also plunged into warfare. With the ensuing chaos, criminals took advantage to try and seize control, with the most severe cases occurring in Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo, which resulted in responses from both the national police and the army. While the number of injured exceeds thousands, the number of fatalities remains unknown at this time.
On the other hand, through treaties, truces and ceasefires have been confirmed in several regions, such as Israel and its surrounding areas following mentions of potential atomic bomb use, Afghanistan, and, this morning, Russia and Ukraine.
Around the world, streets lie deserted and churches are increasingly packed. Many have even given up on their jobs, causing a crisis in various sectors..."
Sliding her script across the table, Mary sighed. A sincere look, completely detached from what had been programmed to be said.
"...We are scared and frightened, I understand. But still, I ask you, if you are part of this enormous group of people, please, do not give up. You are essential, especially in such a desolate situation. Keeping calm may seem difficult—and indeed, it is. My hands are shaking right now, and it's not from the cold. Like you, I am afraid. For me, for my husband, and day and night, for my son.
You might think it's easy for someone who just needs to stand up and report the news to say something like that. But it isn't... I never wanted to be in this position. Right at this moment, my son is ill and my husband is far from home, at work. I wanted to be with them, embracing and taking care of them. But I can't.
Everyone is scared—this is a fact. But we can't let fear take over, or it will generate chaos. And many of us wouldn't survive in the midst of that. The concerns about the clouds belong to everyone and, in that sense, we are almost connected. While research teams around the world work tirelessly at every moment, even China has made its satellites available for use if necessary.
And so, after constant attempts at analyses using satellites in collaboration with various countries, the joint group of researchers from the European Union came to the conclusion that, for unknown reasons, the temperature of the red clouds remains fixed, regardless of time or place. It was also discovered that the water content in the clouds is identical—! That is... rain...?"
The sound of drops falling halted everyone for a moment. Then they ran. Some toward the windows, others toward the elevators and down to the first floor.
At some point, rays of sunlight broke through the clouds. Tears streamed down everyone's face, hugs were exchanged, and stifled screams were finally released. Without considering the possible consequences, some even ran into the streets and bathed in the warm drops that painted the asphalt red: the rain of blood."
**Chapter 1 – Red Clouds**
Watching the strong breeze outside the window sway the leaves and branches of the tree in the garden, Mary put on her overcoat before heading out. Just days ago, the heat had been so intense that some joked you could even fry an egg on the asphalt. In the end, everyone dismissed it as a fleeting event brought on by constant global warming, yet they also wished for rain, hoping the weather would become a bit more bearable.
And indeed, the clouds came—strange enough to make those who wished for them regret it—but not a single drop fell anywhere in the world.
However, now, no more than three days later, a cold snap, arriving without any warning, struck everyone, everywhere in the world.
"Lian!" she shouted, while grabbing her purse from the sofa. "I already called the school and let them know you won't be going to class today. Rest up, and no games! I left some soup ready on the stove—try to eat a bit. And your father said he'll try to come back early to spend the afternoon with you."
Opening the door that stretched over two meters tall, the cold wind burned her face, and the strange, unsettling sight caught her attention once again.
'...He said it's just a mild headache and a fever, so he should be fine, right...?' Glancing back, she stared at her son at the second-floor window. A wave, but no reply. Coughing, Lian ducked behind the wall.
'I told him to cut down his computer time!'
Facing her cellphone, she hesitated: '...Maybe it's really better if I call and say I won't be coming... No.'
Mary tucked the device into her purse. Even with gloves, her hands trembled in the cold wind.
'Arthur will be back soon... everything should be fine.'
It was two days ago—one day after the infernal heat subsided—that red, ominous clouds took over the skies. Their intense crimson hue emitted a faint glow, a result of still being directly hit by the sun's full light. The chaos was immediate, for no matter where or from what angle one looked, they were always there, motionless and filled with lightning streaks that only made the scene even more frightening.
Quickly, Mary dashed into the black car parked in front of the garage. The door opened silently after a brief click, and the high-tech dashboard lit up in welcome. Removing her gloves, she blew on her hands before grabbing the steering wheel.
"That's because I remembered to turn the heater on beforehand—tsk! And they even said it was a model that needs no introduction for being so good... even after twenty minutes, it's barely made any difference. If it got just a little colder, it'd be exactly like it is outside."
Her fingers tapped on the steering wheel, keeping time with the slow rhythm of the music on the radio. And so she drove along a road where, apart from the clouds overhead and the few people hurrying along the streets, as if racing from one point to another, she could easily say that she was in a ghost town.
The change came when the radio channel switched, discussing the hottest topic of recent days—the strange weather and the red clouds looming over everything. Whether it was scientists, researchers, or satellite images, no relevant information about the situation had been uncovered in recent days, leaving the whole world in the dark and allowing only theories to be spun. The most discussed theory wasn't exactly about what had caused these events, but rather about what might possibly happen at the end of it all: a rain of blood, many said on forums scattered across the internet. Initially, it was, of course, just a joke. However, as the number of lightning strikes slicing through the skies increased and darkness persisted throughout the world, some even began to question whether this was really just a "joke."
"Will it all end if the 'blood' falls upon us..?" some wondered.
Not everyone possesses the strength of mind to remain steadfast in the face of desperate situations—some people break. These are the ones who gave up in the early hours, wishing for at least a quick and painless death. But nobody died. At least, not due to anything related to the heavens. The lightning didn't strike, for some reason, and merely continued to crisscross the clouds from side to side. As for the rain, it never gave any sign of existence.
"...As full as yesterday," Mary said as she turned a corner and encountered a church so packed that several people were forced to watch the service from outside. "No... I believe there are even more people today."
At some point, a new theory emerged and grew at a surprising rate. Based on biblical precepts, it was one of the main reasons its spread was so rapid. The initial idea was simple: if God said "Let there be light" when creating the world, could He be punishing us for our multitude of sins by withdrawing that blessing?
The big truth, however, was that no one was sure about anything; no one could affirm anything. Regardless of belief or idea, everyone just wanted it all to be over and for a new day to finally begin. But fear is destructive, and doubt quickly turned into a plague, to which many desperately sought solace in the nearest points of faith.
"Good morning, Mrs. Mary," said the receptionist. A smile graced her face, and a vacant look adorned her eyes.
"...Good morning, Cler."
Any sign of enthusiasm was non-existent. And, once again, the journey to the elevator made it all the more evident.
Expressionless stares and desolate faces—everyone walked back and forth, dutifully performing their jobs as part of a sad routine, merely in the vain attempt to keep their minds occupied with something. In fact, Mary noticed that fewer people were coming in compared to the previous day.
The smiles of those who had once adorned the space with chatter and laughter were gone. Two members of the team weren't even present. Now, they did just the bare minimum, and in an almost morbid, deafening silence. Nobody died, yet everyone behaved as if it was only a matter of time.
Adjusting her blazer, Mary walked over to her desk as she analyzed the text that had been handed to her. The production staff around her remained silent, and only the movement of equipment generated any noise in the space.
"Okay, are you ready, Mary?" the producer asked. She responded with a nod.
The final order initiated the broadcast.
"Good morning," she said, looking directly into the camera. "As confirmed last night, the United States' borders have been completely closed until further notice. And in Mexico, the war has ended. The cartels took full control of the country in the early hours of today.
In Brazil, cities have also plunged into warfare. With the ensuing chaos, criminals took advantage to try and seize control, with the most severe cases occurring in Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo, which resulted in responses from both the national police and the army. While the number of injured exceeds thousands, the number of fatalities remains unknown at this time.
On the other hand, through treaties, truces and ceasefires have been confirmed in several regions, such as Israel and its surrounding areas following mentions of potential atomic bomb use, Afghanistan, and, this morning, Russia and Ukraine.
Around the world, streets lie deserted and churches are increasingly packed. Many have even given up on their jobs, causing a crisis in various sectors..."
Sliding her script across the table, Mary sighed. A sincere look, completely detached from what had been programmed to be said.
"...We are scared and frightened, I understand. But still, I ask you, if you are part of this enormous group of people, please, do not give up. You are essential, especially in such a desolate situation. Keeping calm may seem difficult—and indeed, it is. My hands are shaking right now, and it's not from the cold. Like you, I am afraid. For me, for my husband, and day and night, for my son.
You might think it's easy for someone who just needs to stand up and report the news to say something like that. But it isn't... I never wanted to be in this position. Right at this moment, my son is ill and my husband is far from home, at work. I wanted to be with them, embracing and taking care of them. But I can't.
Everyone is scared—this is a fact. But we can't let fear take over, or it will generate chaos. And many of us wouldn't survive in the midst of that. The concerns about the clouds belong to everyone and, in that sense, we are almost connected. While research teams around the world work tirelessly at every moment, even China has made its satellites available for use if necessary.
And so, after constant attempts at analyses using satellites in collaboration with various countries, the joint group of researchers from the European Union came to the conclusion that, for unknown reasons, the temperature of the red clouds remains fixed, regardless of time or place. It was also discovered that the water content in the clouds is identical—! That is... rain...?"
The sound of drops falling halted everyone for a moment. Then they ran. Some toward the windows, others toward the elevators and down to the first floor.
At some point, rays of sunlight broke through the clouds. Tears streamed down everyone's face, hugs were exchanged, and stifled screams were finally released. Without considering the possible consequences, some even ran into the streets and bathed in the warm drops that painted the asphalt red: the rain of blood.
Watching the strong breeze outside the window sway the leaves and branches of the tree in the garden, Mary put on her overcoat before heading out. Just days ago, the heat had been so intense that some joked you could even fry an egg on the asphalt. In the end, everyone dismissed it as a fleeting event brought on by constant global warming, yet they also wished for rain, hoping the weather would become a bit more bearable.
And indeed, the clouds came—strange enough to make those who wished for them regret it—but not a single drop fell anywhere in the world.
However, now, no more than three days later, a cold snap, arriving without any warning, struck everyone, everywhere in the world.
"Lian!" she shouted, while grabbing her purse from the sofa. "I already called the school and let them know you won't be going to class today. Rest up, and no games! I left some soup ready on the stove—try to eat a bit. And your father said he'll try to come back early to spend the afternoon with you."
Opening the door that stretched over two meters tall, the cold wind burned her face, and the strange, unsettling sight caught her attention once again.
'...He said it's just a mild headache and a fever, so he should be fine, right...?' Glancing back, she stared at her son at the second-floor window. A wave, but no reply. Coughing, Lian ducked behind the wall.
'I told him to cut down his computer time!'
Facing her cellphone, she hesitated: '...Maybe it's really better if I call and say I won't be coming... No.'
Mary tucked the device into her purse. Even with gloves, her hands trembled in the cold wind.
'Arthur will be back soon... everything should be fine.'
It was two days ago—one day after the infernal heat subsided—that red, ominous clouds took over the skies. Their intense crimson hue emitted a faint glow, a result of still being directly hit by the sun's full light. The chaos was immediate, for no matter where or from what angle one looked, they were always there, motionless and filled with lightning streaks that only made the scene even more frightening.
Quickly, Mary dashed into the black car parked in front of the garage. The door opened silently after a brief click, and the high-tech dashboard lit up in welcome. Removing her gloves, she blew on her hands before grabbing the steering wheel.
"That's because I remembered to turn the heater on beforehand—tsk! And they even said it was a model that needs no introduction for being so good... even after twenty minutes, it's barely made any difference. If it got just a little colder, it'd be exactly like it is outside."
Her fingers tapped on the steering wheel, keeping time with the slow rhythm of the music on the radio. And so she drove along a road where, apart from the clouds overhead and the few people hurrying along the streets, as if racing from one point to another, she could easily say that she was in a ghost town.
The change came when the radio channel switched, discussing the hottest topic of recent days—the strange weather and the red clouds looming over everything. Whether it was scientists, researchers, or satellite images, no relevant information about the situation had been uncovered in recent days, leaving the whole world in the dark and allowing only theories to be spun. The most discussed theory wasn't exactly about what had caused these events, but rather about what might possibly happen at the end of it all: a rain of blood, many said on forums scattered across the internet. Initially, it was, of course, just a joke. However, as the number of lightning strikes slicing through the skies increased and darkness persisted throughout the world, some even began to question whether this was really just a "joke."
"Will it all end if the 'blood' falls upon us..?" some wondered.
Not everyone possesses the strength of mind to remain steadfast in the face of desperate situations—some people break. These are the ones who gave up in the early hours, wishing for at least a quick and painless death. But nobody died. At least, not due to anything related to the heavens. The lightning didn't strike, for some reason, and merely continued to crisscross the clouds from side to side. As for the rain, it never gave any sign of existence.
"...As full as yesterday," Mary said as she turned a corner and encountered a church so packed that several people were forced to watch the service from outside. "No... I believe there are even more people today."
At some point, a new theory emerged and grew at a surprising rate. Based on biblical precepts, it was one of the main reasons its spread was so rapid. The initial idea was simple: if God said "Let there be light" when creating the world, could He be punishing us for our multitude of sins by withdrawing that blessing?
The big truth, however, was that no one was sure about anything; no one could affirm anything. Regardless of belief or idea, everyone just wanted it all to be over and for a new day to finally begin. But fear is destructive, and doubt quickly turned into a plague, to which many desperately sought solace in the nearest points of faith.
"Good morning, Mrs. Mary," said the receptionist. A smile graced her face, and a vacant look adorned her eyes.
"...Good morning, Cler."
Any sign of enthusiasm was non-existent. And, once again, the journey to the elevator made it all the more evident.
Expressionless stares and desolate faces—everyone walked back and forth, dutifully performing their jobs as part of a sad routine, merely in the vain attempt to keep their minds occupied with something. In fact, Mary noticed that fewer people were coming in compared to the previous day.
The smiles of those who had once adorned the space with chatter and laughter were gone. Two members of the team weren't even present. Now, they did just the bare minimum, and in an almost morbid, deafening silence. Nobody died, yet everyone behaved as if it was only a matter of time.
Adjusting her blazer, Mary walked over to her desk as she analyzed the text that had been handed to her. The production staff around her remained silent, and only the movement of equipment generated any noise in the space.
"Okay, are you ready, Mary?" the producer asked. She responded with a nod.
The final order initiated the broadcast.
"Good morning," she said, looking directly into the camera. "As confirmed last night, the United States' borders have been completely closed until further notice. And in Mexico, the war has ended. The cartels took full control of the country in the early hours of today.
In Brazil, cities have also plunged into warfare. With the ensuing chaos, criminals took advantage to try and seize control, with the most severe cases occurring in Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo, which resulted in responses from both the national police and the army. While the number of injured exceeds thousands, the number of fatalities remains unknown at this time.
On the other hand, through treaties, truces and ceasefires have been confirmed in several regions, such as Israel and its surrounding areas following mentions of potential atomic bomb use, Afghanistan, and, this morning, Russia and Ukraine.
Around the world, streets lie deserted and churches are increasingly packed. Many have even given up on their jobs, causing a crisis in various sectors..."
Sliding her script across the table, Mary sighed. A sincere look, completely detached from what had been programmed to be said.
"...We are scared and frightened, I understand. But still, I ask you, if you are part of this enormous group of people, please, do not give up. You are essential, especially in such a desolate situation. Keeping calm may seem difficult—and indeed, it is. My hands are shaking right now, and it's not from the cold. Like you, I am afraid. For me, for my husband, and day and night, for my son.
You might think it's easy for someone who just needs to stand up and report the news to say something like that. But it isn't... I never wanted to be in this position. Right at this moment, my son is ill and my husband is far from home, at work. I wanted to be with them, embracing and taking care of them. But I can't.
Everyone is scared—this is a fact. But we can't let fear take over, or it will generate chaos. And many of us wouldn't survive in the midst of that. The concerns about the clouds belong to everyone and, in that sense, we are almost connected. While research teams around the world work tirelessly at every moment, even China has made its satellites available for use if necessary.
And so, after constant attempts at analyses using satellites in collaboration with various countries, the joint group of researchers from the European Union came to the conclusion that, for unknown reasons, the temperature of the red clouds remains fixed, regardless of time or place. It was also discovered that the water content in the clouds is identical—! That is... rain...?"
The sound of drops falling halted everyone for a moment. Then they ran. Some toward the windows, others toward the elevators and down to the first floor.
At some point, rays of sunlight broke through the clouds. Tears streamed down everyone's face, hugs were exchanged, and stifled screams were finally released. Without considering the possible consequences, some even ran into the streets and bathed in the warm drops that painted the asphalt red: the rain of blood.