---
type: story
title: Journal of Diago Pereira
author: Nat Mcardle-Mott-Merrifield and Sarah Bloden
character: Henrique Pereira — 2400–2401
---

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<p style="text-align: center; text-indent: none; font-size: 80%"><em>Note:</em> This story utilizes different fonts to represent different members of a plural system.</p>

**May 12th, 2400**

The door is pressed open and the lights are turned on with a soft click, below wooden planks bemoan the shuffling feat of Henrique and his slippers, his old jeans loose and baggy, the knitted sweater he wears worn like his brittle bones. He walks with his cane, tapping on the floor as he finds his seat, guided by his great Granddaughter Isa, who guides him with steady, thoughtfully slow, footing.

"Take a seat Grand Papi... it will... it will all, uhm..." she mutters the words, "be okay" aimlessly, then lets a minute of quiet drift between the two of them, sounds of weeping heard from the floor below. She had only recently entered her teens, how could such innocence possibly understand such loss, the ramifications of the news not yet settled in for youthful Isa, yet the reality sank soundly onto the soul of elderly Henrique. The meandering minute passes, and Isa looks back up, eyes filled with concern for her great Grandfather's wellbeing. "Ah, Grand Papi, would you like me to get you your coffee mug? A blanket? Anything to give you comfort...?"

Finally, he begins to sit down on his leather recliner, waving his aged hand dismissively, wrinkled and frail. His dower face, aged like the cracked leather he put his weight onto and pock marked with freckles from years in the sun, bunches together as he grimaces, not at the offer but towards the state of the world, the state of his family, the state of the System, and perhaps his aching body as well.

Gently, slowly, deliberately he lowers himself and rests into the seat, his reading seat, the seat he got from his aunt as part of her will, a skilled tanner---skill that shined through the weathered cushions that strained to hold his retired body. So weak, so old---the days of power and youth having left him, drained from him by the decades. He looks up, and lets out a tired, weary sigh, then shakes his head.

"I... I just need to sit down, my dear. Sit down... Just... sit down. To think... in quiet. Please, Isa my dear, leave me be for now. Go, tend to your Mami, she needs your comfort."

He stares back down at his lap, grunting and listening to the door creak closed as Isa leaves, allowing lingering thoughts to swell in might and misery. Flashes of denial sting as Henrique's depressed thoughts flow freely, he attempts to come to terms with the news again, just as another baleful shriek fills the air, a cry, a plea heard by none who deserved it.

Descendants deleted and ancestors now long gone. His Granddaughter weeps at the knowledge her handful of children and acres of ancestry were now lost, taken from her just as his brother was through the same act of terrorism.

Terrorism. What a foul concept that was so filled with angry grays, blacks, and whites. Months, months the System was down and its dire truths suppressed, until finally reaching the 'net in a slow torrent of terrible news, chaotic questions, corroborating with bitter claims, the collectivists caused harm on a cataclysmic scale, like some malevolent maelstrom, a maverick ridden by the reapers' wrath.

He looks at his hands, fingers clenched and unclenching, shaking. Tempering anger soothes his emotions with contempt to those responsible, as tears get lost in the saddened crow's-feet lining his tired face. His watery eyes look to the left, noticing the spine of a lithe book tucked within the drawer of his side table, a familiar thing that rested with a fine, blue-feathered, ink quill strapped to its outside.

He sighs somberly, shakily, and reaches for the journal that once belonged to his late and lost. A Journal of Diago Pereira, his brother---or siblings, as he would later come to learn in his youth, and love years after his younger brother uploaded with his once hidden plurality in tow.

The next few moments were a blanket of misery, misery that mastered the old mans' mind, and moved him to lift the old literature to his lap. Tears gradually overwhelming, he wipes them off and opens the book to the first page, a familiar feeling now underwhelming compared to the weight of tragedy on his shoulders:

> *12th of March 2304*
>
> Today is my 17th birthday and as a gift my Grand mami got me this journal to practice my english writing in. My teacher told me my writing is pretty good since he started teaching me but needs work and my mami thought it would be a good idea to give me a book to practice in. He said I should focus on my punctuation mostly as I seem to forget to include that in my writing sometimes. He also said my spelling could do a little bit of work so I'll try and focus on that.
>
> Today was so fun after school, I took my bike home and my cousins, sisters and a few of our friends from the next farm over were waiting for me! I even saw aunt Corita, she managed to get the day off from the Ansible clinic, I hardly ever get to see her. We had a quick game in the backyard field , I think my sisters took it easy on me, there usually way more dexterous then I am! *<span class="smallcaps">(Eles fizeram isso, eu já vi eles chutarem você, mas no futebol! Haha.)</span>* I can still play pretty good Fel!
>
> Anyway, after a few goals, my mami called us in for dinner! It was Fels and my favorite, homemade Acarajé and Picanha, and for dessert Grand mami made me a vanilla cake with blue icing!
>
> After we ate, my mami and Grand mami gave me my gifts, this journal and a letter from my brother that wished he could be there. He also sent me printed photos of him and his army buddies at the BrAr Line. They smile, but the scenery is so grim and barren. My aunt tells me it was once farmland, and now it's just mud and metal fences.
>
> Even if this was given to me to improve my English writing, I really enjoyed writing about my day! And I didn't expect it to be. But I am tired and don't have much else to say, the cake was yummy! I always love Grand mami's cakes.

In the margin, "Property of Diago Pereira" can be read, along with the thumb smearing of blue icing dye that has since stained the once fresh paper, now freshly stained by stray tears. Henrique smiles, sniffling softly as the wrinkles on his face rise, his thumb and forefinger slides the pages to a random entry, a familiar sensation of such delicate paper dancing between his fingertips---wrinkled, marked, and lightly stained pages of faded graphite and century old ink---dates dotting the upper left. He moves his hand across the paper, reading the crude handwriting of early script, a pastime he took part in on a monthly basis, now a catharsis, a means to mourn.

He flips through the pages more, methodically moving fingers before finding one to finally read through in full:

> *17th of June 2304*
>
> Dear Journal, I got home today after my english classes, and Mami and my sisters told me Henrique had sent a letter from the BrAr Line. It talked about how he saw a Hyacinth Macaw making a nest on one of the watchtowers at the Briar. *<span class="smallcaps">(SORTUDO! Eu gostaria que pudéssemos ver mais a linha do briar. Parece tão interessante.)</span>* It really doesn't Fel.
>
> He wrote in the letter that he was ordered to chase the bird off because it was making a nest, but even with him and his buddies' best efforts it stayed. I'm proud of it! This story got a laugh out of everyone, and to my surprise mom showed me a feather that came with the letter, it was bright blue! Further down, my brother said that while he was trying to get the bird to leave, he managed to collect a few feathers from its nest and thought I'd like to have one. <span class="smallcaps">*(Henrique é um irmão tão legal. Espero que você possa me apresentar a ele em breve.)*</span> I do too, Fel.
>
> Both Fel and I are so excited to have received it, the Hyacinth Macaw is believed to be an extinct species. To know one still lives makes us so happy! I can't wait to show this in class tomorrow, I know Mr. Rocha loves to watch birds as much as I do.
>
> Speaking of Mr. Rocha! I asked him if I could borrow his binoculars after class today. I've been wanting to go visit my spot with them and see what birds have been nesting near there. He agreed with the exception that, "You better let me come with you, I'm not about to miss out on a bird watching expedition, let alone give my binoculars away without supervision!" I know he meant well by that, but I couldn't help but feel a little nervous. Mr. Rocha is a good teacher, though. Friends of my eldest cousin, who was taught by him when she was younger!
>
> After looking at the letter and feathers, my sisters and I did our chores around the farmstead with the farm hands. Just as I was finishing, my sisters came up to me and told me they saw a flock of white birds that were nesting in one of our Latex Trees, I could only guess what they must've been at the time, but I wouldn't have guessed they're White-Necked Hawks! They were all nested there and warding danger away from the nest. They looked so majestic! I can't wait to watch their eggs hatch, such a beautiful species of bird!

One of his favorite entries, and a reminder of a brighter day at the Briar line, one not so filled with dull gray and scorched earth. He frowns, hesitates, then hastily lifts the journal from his lap, finding the ink quill resting in the nook of his arm rest and right leg. He carefully raises it up, pondering---not recalling---how he so quickly removed it from the strap on the journal, carefully preening the blue feather adorned to the end of the writing utensil.

His hand works the fine fibers of the feather, tracing it down to the firmness of the pen nib, pointed, certain, precise. He lazily drags that same fingers as before across another section of pages, coarse papers scraping assuredly as he stumbles into another two entries, both rather lengthy:

> *24th of July 2304*
>
> Dear Journal, today I write away from home. I told Mami I was going to spend the night over at Gregors home, to which she was wary to acknowledge me doing so. She made sure I had my tablet with me, and that I had lunch packed as well. I appreciate her concern but sometimes it feels almost too much. Before I left, Mami also made sure I had offered my chores to one of my sisters, which I had, telling her Iara agreed to do my tasks today so I could spend the night away from home. I'll just end up doing twice of hers on the weekend.
>
> Since I plan to spend the night over at the high rises, I left early this morning. I hadn't been to see Gregor in a few months and was curious about what was new.
>
> Fel and I hitched a ride on a truck, and on the way Fel was discussing with me if I had also felt the new identity that was forming. Fel and I still don't know where she came from, but we feel that she has a similar origin to Fel, herself. Hopefully we'll find out from this newcomer. *<span class="smallcaps">(Estou muito animado para ver se podemos aprender alguma coisa com esse novo companheiro plural, Diago. Você realmente deveria explorar mais a 'Net sobre a pluralidade.)</span>*
>
> Fel, you know I would if I had the time to do so! I'm just always too busy. Anyway, we've been writing this at the 'cave' now, and it looks like it is probably two in the afternoon, and we've had our lunch too, feeling ready to go! Also, the tide is starting to fill up this old garage so I better get packing or I won't be able to take the boat out at all. Thankfully, the weather is peaceful with hurricanes Gabriel and Taylor having traveled down south this time of year. Still, the ocean waves are choppy so I won't be able to spend any time writing in the rowboat. Next entry will be written once we've made landfall, at the high rises. I'm hopeful Gregor will be available today!

Henriques smiles, recalling how adventurous youthful Diago was, he flips the page, his fingers feeling the pages curl, curious eyes reading the lines that are revealed.

> *25th of July 2304*
>
> Dear Journal, Fel and I made it to Gregors' home without any issue, and are writing this entry at the top of the high rises! *<span class="smallcaps">(É tão bonito! Se não fossem as nuvens de Gabriel, você poderia ver todas as estrelas do céu!)</span>* While the waves did rock the rowboat, it wasn't at all a challenge to find harbor at the old high rises. We were met by Marcia, who helped us anchor the boat to the third floor balcony-pier, and we caught up with one another! She asked how my mami and Grandmami were, how my sisters were, how the farm was doing, then offered me lunch which I politely declined. *<span class="smallcaps">(Ela fez Vatapá!! O Vatapá da Márcia! É sempre tão delicioso! Como você poderia deixar passar uma tigela fresquinha de Vatapá da Márcia, Diago!! Ah!)</span>* I'm sorry Fel, but I wasn't hungry then! Quit thinking about your stomach so much.
>
> Anyway, after our talk, Marcia led us to where Gregor was, he was busy doing his own chores and tending to the seventh floor gardens. I always enjoy walking up to this floor, the view is amazing, though often windy without any wall. As soon as he saw me we hugged! It'd been too long, and like his mother, we talked about how things had been in the last few months, his community, my family, the hazards of the weather and the hazards of piracy along the coast, their fishing farms, our latex farms-- *<span class="smallcaps">(Na verdade, ele mencionou como conseguiram pescar atum hoje! E íamos tomar um pote Grande de Moqueca de Camarão! O que foi TÃO DELICIOSO!)</span>* Oh yeah! We've never had real Tuna before, only ever that fake processed stuff. So when Gregor offered to have us present for their dinner we were more than happy to accept, we even told them we intended to stay the night, which he and Marcia were happy to oblige.
>
> We spent the remainder of our afternoon playing Go. He's always been better at it, and we don't have a board at home to practice. Regardless, it was a lot of fun! And I did manage to win a game in the end.
>
> Now, Fel and I sit on the roof and gaze across the stars. It is truly gorgeous... and I think we can spot the System too, orbiting overhead. Honestly it's crazy to think some of my Grandparents are there now. I hope they look at us and bless us with a good harvest, surely the tuna Gregor's family caught was one. *<span class="smallcaps">(Você acha que algum dia chegaremos lá, Diago?)</span>* I don't know Fel! It would be cool, though I bet.
>
> Sigh. I do not wish to be conscripted. I do not wish to tend the fields of burnt earth that my brother does. I wish he didn't either. *<span class="smallcaps">(É tão estúpido! Por que fomos para a guerra de novo? O que a Argentina fez com o Brasil? Por que seu irmão teve que ir! Por que NÓS temos que ir! Ah!)</span>* I can't recall Fel, I wish Mami hadden gotten us into those history classes. Anyway, it smells like dinners done.

His anger, simmering now, grows sour with grief renewed. Why, why must they have done this? A society of people, free from the strifes of this withering world, peaceful and calm and claiming new lives... Taken, made lost for some bitter pointless stance. Had the universe not taken enough from him, from his family, from his people? Was it fate, destiny, that others would bring agony to the Pereira family and so many, many more on this hellish earth? Surely, he had done enough, harbored the forgotten sins of his nation for long enough, the punishments that his father endured and reflected onto him, for long enough? Surely, this was enough, should have been enough, to avoid this tragedy?

To have lost so much more, to know generations of elders and cousins and sons and daughters were now gone. Now longer of the heavens but beyond, if there was such a thing. Henrique didn't have the slightest clue, and he doubted there was anything after. They were gone, his brother was gone. It was as simple as that, a weeding fact he began to harbor and nourish.

He observes the fine details on the pen in this bitter moment of contemplation, Henrique's fingers flipping the pages with unplanned, instinctual precision, eyes unwittingly landing on the next entry:

> *23rd of September 2304*
>
> Dear Journal, class wasn't too special. My teacher commented that my punctuation has been remaining consistent but that I should try to expand my vocabulary and gave me a thesaurus. It's full of English words and very heavy! So I'll probably read it when I get home.
>
> But! FINALLY after months of planning, Mr. Rocha and I left to go birdwatching. He was very busy marking the exams of all the classes he taught, but he was able to schedule some time with me this week! We have been planning to visit a spot along the interior, within the marshes and prairies of província cinzenta. I told him it was nothing special, just a place I try to visit when I have enough allowance to take the bus that far. *<span class="smallcaps">(Agradeça aos antepassados que o Sr. Rocha possui um caminhão! Eu odeio pegar carona em ônibus. Ou está super lotado ou temos que sentar no telhado...)</span> Yeah, it was quite far, and his truck was quite comfy. Though honestly, I was just excited we got to see somewhere new that's not just your house or farm.* Yeah! You sounded like you enjoyed it as much as we did, huh Davi? **(Yeah! The views were beautiful. If a bit haunting. You still need to take me to Gregor's one of these days, I'm sure he'd be happy to have you visit him again.)** *<span class="smallcaps">(Oh sim! As vistas da casa dele são INCRÍVEIS! Além disso, a comida da sua mãe é TÃO deliciosa!)</span>*
>
> I will, I will! Anyways, as should be obvious, getting there wasn't too difficult, and we parked along the eastern edge of the Amazona Basin. From there I led the way down some dirt trails, and showed Mr. Rocha a family of nursing trees that had begun to sprout new life. **(It was very pretty! There were at least five different burnt up trunks that had fallen over, and were all sprouting entirely different trees from them!)** Yeah! And in the trees, we saw many birds flying in and out, they looked like brownish twistwings, we also heard peeping! The sound filled me with such joy, and Mr. Rocha remarked how wonderful it was to see nature adapt and heal in spite of all the destruction caused by 'A Grande Fumaça', so many years ago.
>
> The comment had Davi curious, and so I asked him how 'A Grande Fumaça' even started, **(Thanks again. I wasn't sure how Mr Rocha would take you being plural, otherwise I would have asked myself.)** <span class="smallcaps">*(Sr. Rocha arrasa! Tenho certeza de que ele teria ido às alturas para ouvir sobre nós!)*</span> Eh... I'm in agreement with Davi. I'd rather just keep this between us three.
>
> Anyways, I'm glad I asked because I learned things I never recalled being taught besides the really nasty terrorists and stuff. Anyway, when he was done I asked why people would do such things, it was kinda absent minded of me to ask, but when I did Mr. Rocha had this moment of contemplation before he told me that "Some very angry people simply choose to resort to fan the hate and anger in their hearts, in order to make an impact on the world. In their case, they wanted many people to see the perils we suffer, like some twisted bonfire, and these people believed that by burning down the Amazon it would call the world into action." I told him that didn't make any sense, and he agreed, "Anger drives many men to do senseless things, but this is why it is important to keep a level head at all times, and to control that flame, turn it towards a warm hearth that nurtures and improves the quality of all. Not tear it down and destroy it."
>
> After our conversation, we went and had lunch. *<span class="smallcaps">(Foi Empadão caseiro! Devo dizer que o Sr. Rocha é um excelente cozinheiro!)</span>* He is! And he made extras, so we got to take some home with us to share. Today was honestly the best.

Yet, despite the uplifting ending and relative cheerfulness of the entry, such aspects go unread and unappreciated as Henriques eyes stay fixed on the penultimate paragraph. His breath quickens to nigh hyperventilation with quicker clouds fogging Henrique's brief-bright thoughts with foul ashen clouds.

A Grande Fumaça, another crazed disaster, dealt by the collective cells of Brazil. The terrorists' insanity deemed that the only path to salvation was more mindless destruction. To alter and to tarnish the Grand jungles of South America with thermite fueled flames.

Such scornful actions created lasting consequences. The Steel Acquisitions Act, fueling the cinders for the pyre that would become the Brazilian Civil War, followed by the unsatisfied bloodlust that lead to the annexation of Paraguay and the eventual invasion of eastern Argentina.

Anger flares once more, the scalding inferno of nearly a century ago igniting hot and glowing fury in the old mans beating heart. He throws the pen in anger, then gasps, smelling acrid burning. He looks about the room, the lights a brilliant yellow. Torches of flame around him. He gets up, he needs fresh air...

He rises, his right hand numb, crumbles under the weight and he begins to fall to the floor. His left hand, clenched into a fist, slams to his inflamed chest, leaving him sobbing, weeping, falling. With a loud thump against the hardwood floor, he cries and whines. Why, why did they have to take his brother? Why did they have to kill so many bright souls, to accomplish what? To state what?

"W-why... W-whhyy... whhyyy..."

He mutters through a limp tongue, half numb lips. He was shot, he realizes, he believes, time slowed like a putrid muck as the sudden taste of something sickening and metallic crosses his tongue. His heart hurts, agonizing, a flame. He struggles to breathe, and wonders why, why, why was he sent to the front line. Why was he chosen to be shot, an innocent at the whims of a corrupt government.

He looks up, watching the members of the Argentinian resistance raid the Briar Line. Guns alight, loud, shouting, surrounding him, soon kicking him.

*"Me perdoe! Me perdoe! Me perdoe! Me perdoe!"*

He begs for forgiveness as memory fades, figures all around him, following him to his youth. Full of bullies, malevolent peers, punishing him, teasing him, childishly chastising him for the acts of his rebellious father. A man dedicated to the independence of Rio Grande Do Sul, a man who died fighting the civil war, and marred his family name with the title of-

*"Traidor! Traidor! Traidores Imundos!"*

-And he suffers the consequences. Crying, choking, dying, dimming... before Diago screams, chasing, sprinting, pushing away the bullies, the ne'er do well teenagers twice the siblings' age.

No longer surrounded, Diago leans down, reaching his hand towards his elder brother. Henrique looks up, vision blurred from the blinding backlit visage of Diago, details smeared, yet comfortably cool and shaded in soft shadows.

*"Ei, irmão mais velho!"*

Henrique hears the cry of Diago calling out to him, before watching that youthful silhouette approach him, take a knee, and offer his hand down to his fallen self.

*"Está tudo bem, você está seguro. Vamos, vamos para casa! Todo mundo está preocupado com você."*

Henrique nods, sobbing, smiling, and reaches for Diagos hand, hearing the worry and concern in his brother's voice.

*"Vamos para casa. Irmão mais novo..."*

Then everything fades to black.

Hours that felt like minutes go by, and with a groggy start, white light fills Henriques vision.

The door to the examination room clicks open, Isa walking in, exhausted, her nurse outfit freshly donned with fresh concern still on her face, she kneels down, checking on her Grand Papi, healing instincts kicking in as she takes Henriques hand, watching his face twitch into wakefulness.

"Oh, Grand Papi... shh, it's okay... You're safe, you had another little stroke. You're safe."

Henrique simply nods, groaning, looking down at the white linen bed he found himself in. He inhales through clenched teeth, leaning back into his pillows and breaths out shakily, then looks to his left, smiling towards Isa, then further towards the bedside table, spotting the journal still at his side.

Isa's fears quickly diminished as she saw him come too. Watching as his senses returned to him. It wasn't long before a doctor entered, clipboard in hand and hesitant smile showing.

"Ah, Mr. Pereira. You had us all worried there, but, thankfully to your Granddaughters quick thinking you're looking to make a full recovery. She's a very excellent nurse, we're lucky to have her with us."

Isa smiles, then glances over to the journal Henrique was just looking towards. She picks it up, handing it to him.

"Grand Papi, we'll be moving you to another room for the remainder of your stay, but once we're there would you like me to stick around for a while? The hospital has given me permission to attend to you, and, well, I saw you reading Grand uncle Diago's journal. I was thinking I could read some of it to you?"

Henrique nods with a wide smile reaching from ear to ear, stretching those years of well earned lines like the boughs and branches of a Bertholletia Excelsa.

"Of course, my dear Isa. I'd love that so, very much."

The minutes went by as medical accessories were untethered and unlatched from their anchoring, allowing Henriques' bed to be transported to his new room. Isa walked alongside while another nurse pushed, her fingers gently intertwined with her Grand papis' own.

The new room was optimally lit and blandly furnished with whites, blues, and beige, presented in the most iconically hygienic ways a hospital could be. Isa finds a seat beside Henrique, a metal thing with dense padding cushions, unlike her grin which was soft and comforting; not at all dissimilar to her eyes, which began to look downward towards the journal that she split open in her hands. She carefully turned each page, finally landing on an entry that was written earlier into the books life:

> *3rd of May 2304*
>
> Dear Journal, today I write after Fel and I have gone exploring! I did my chores this morning, stripping the bark from the trees mainly, then I went down to the coast and took the rowboat out from 'the cave'. Though I didn't visit Gregor, instead I took the boat further west, to visit some of the abandoned towns in that area. I brought some chicken sandwiches with me, as I planned to stay most the day there and take the last bus back.
>
> I know it's dangerous, but my curiosity just urges me to swim in those waters near the old ruined towns past the shore. Mami, cuz I know she'd be worried sick for me, doesn't know I do this, but I can't help but want to explore! It's like exploring a whole different world, well maybe not ENTIRELY different, but different enough to feel like it's a place I've never been too.
>
> I also go because Fel is always wanting to see the world... and she's always going on and on and on about leaving the house, leaving Brazil. Honestly I'm happy to oblige! I'm not too keen to live here for the rest of my life either.
>
> Anyways, once we took the rowboat far enough, we anchored up to what we guessed must have been an old apartment complex? We could access the third and fourth floors, but the rest was flooded. But despite this, I was able to dive down to the floors below with my light to guide us. I always make sure to wear one on my chest so I'm never diving in the dark. I've also been practicing my diving for quite a while now, and the longest I can hold my breath while swimming is a full minute and sixteen seconds!
>
> Diving down to the floor below, it was filled with seaweed and other water plants, also I found all sorts of cool things, old photo portraits, toys, a Rig! It was inhabited by some tropical fish, Tetra I think is what they're called? Very small and they glowed brightly when my light hit them! It was very pretty! *<span class="smallcaps">(Tenho quase certeza de que vi uma caixa de tesouro também! Era pequeno e brilhante! Mas provavelmente é melhor que não o tenhamos feito. Estava preso atrás de muitos móveis antigos.)</span>* Yeah, it wouldn't have been safe to try and dig that out.
>
> When I surfaced I had my meal-- *<span class="smallcaps">(Os sanduíches estavam MUITO deliciosos! Você Mami faz os melhores sanduíches.)</span>* Yeah, they really are super good. Anyways, afterwards we swam down the outside of the building and we were able to get much deeper, even with the surrounding kelp clinging to its walls. Turns out the apartment was built on top of a barber! At least I assume it was a barber as I saw the red and blue striped pole on the outside of it. I couldn't open the door, and the windows were boarded up to get some breath. Next we explored the upper floors above the water. The building was very slanted, so climbing the old stairs wasn't easy, and most of the apartment rooms had their front doors locked still. But the rooms I did open were very empty, however one had an old campfire in it! *<span class="smallcaps">( Claro que não somos os aventureiros que exploram as ruínas do Brasil!)</span>* I guess! Either that or someone else came here before and tried to live here. The walls were spray painted in beautiful and ugly murals, and one room was entirely coated in bird poop... it wasn't pretty but I did see the various nests that were using the old space as a new home!
>
> Once we were done exploring, we grabbed the rowboat and went back to shore. We just barely caught the bus we wanted, which was good since I was so tired. I got home and my family asked how my swim was, as I probably smelt like the sea.
>
> Now Fel and I rest in bed... it's funny, despite all that destruction caused by nature, seeing life still present and flourishing is nice. It gives our world color, and makes me happy.
>
> Anyways, I'm tired. That's all!

Isa closes the book softly, clearing her throat after all that talking, and places it at her great Grand papi's side. Henrique looked up in response, a mild smile present on his thin lips.

"Thank you, sweet Isa. You're the best Granddaughter an old man like me could ever ask for." He grins, then coughs softly, frowning at the sorry state his body was in. Isa reacts accordingly, leaning down to assist her great Grandfather, but he raises a hand- "It's fine, some water is all I need."

Isa frowns, but goes to pour her father a cup, turning away to head to the plastic jug not more than a couple meters from his bedside table.

She pours the cup, then pauses "...Grand papi, is..." She sighs, then turns back to pass him the cup. "Are you okay...?" A question that could be easily dismissed with a 'yes', a white lie to maintain this status quo he wished to uphold and quell any worry. Yet, Henrique knew better, hearing the way Isa asked, feeling the way those words carried soft care, the compassion in her voice curating how she phrased it, and quite simply from the way her eyes penetrated his own. The ache in his heart would not cease until he expressed his thoughts, and he knew this status quo should not be maintained.

"...I... am not. No. The System, it is truly gone, yes?" He asks, expression grim. Isa pauses, having handed over the cup. Then shrugs and shakes her head. "The word on the 'net... Well, it is unclear. There's been claims that they're trying to recover it, some saying success, others saying failure... its..."

Henrique nods, raising his hand once again. "It is an uncertain time, I... understand." I silence drops between the pair, long and thoughtful, as Henrique stares at himself through the reflection of the water, seeing the man who he once was and the youth before, so full of potential, that who couldn't be. An innocent child who had a brother, before being taken away from home to become the cog for some militaristic machine, and discarded, broken, at the end.

"Why didn't you upload, Grand papi?" Henrique is drawn from his stupor, glancing up at Isa with a pained, confused expression that evolved to one of frustration, and finally mournful regret.

"I... I was too anchored to my duties here... to many responsibilities, to many tasks that were expected of me..." he says, a weak truth, one that did not admit the full pains of his reasons. Reasons he did not care to admit because they scared him, filled him with anxiety, regret.

Why didn't he upload? There was nothing to stop him, he had the opportunity, he was given the privilege after his service. In fact, it was expected of him by his country and family, for was a broken man, and a man with the buried soul of a child. Once his service was done, he was seen as useless by the aristocracy, and his family name denoted him a traitor by the people.

So, why not simply allow himself to be discarded? Buried like that child who was taken away? Why, why did he put such effort into the farm, into making a family. Why did he feel the need to prove the worth of the Pereira name...

Was it to prove they weren't traitors to brazil? To prove his life had meaning? To live a life after years of strife? To try and forget the pain of no longer being at his brother's side? Or to avoid that pain, to bury it too, like the child, like the hundred dead from a worthless civil war... The notion of seeing someone so different from how he would've remembered them. Of seeing a person who he loathed, despite all that love. To see someone who had the chance to be a child, who did not need to bury that precious, perfect part of life. Scared him, for the emotions they elicited.

He scowls, emotions eating away at him... Isa frowned, leaning in.

Diago was his friend, as any sibling should, but one who'd be a constant reminder of the time *he* lost, the time *he* should've had as well. Diago lived the life he lost, and he *hated* him for that.

Yet.

Henrique could not let that hate burn. Those flames would rather stoke fires of passion and thankfulness, that his brother's youth could stay at Diago's side. Even if he had that all taken away from him, he should be happy his brother managed to avoid it all through those careful weeks of planning, ultimately resulting in him being snuck out the month before his mandatory conscription. Years before he would return home.

His fists balled up, and tears began to be shed. Why must he feel this pungent jealousy contradict his love, and why must this unfettered joy ruin the urge to swell with anger and selfish want. Not only this, but the half-void in his chest was lonely, forever imperfect because he never could say goodbye.

His life, all his life, was hell, hell on earth. From his earliest days under the sun, to his first days at the Briar Line, to his last days working the farm, and undoubtedly to his final day on this god forsaken planet his deleted ancestors long ago abandoned.

Yet his brother, the person he cherished so dearly, avoided that. It wasn't fair, but did that matter? He sacrificed everything, and his brother lived his life. And now he sat here, in a hospital bed, seething and seeing those reasons come to light. Showing him he never once was truly happy, never once truly satisfied, and never once given the chance to live, never once allowing himself to-

Isa grabbed his hand, and gently kissed his forehead, shocking the elderly man out of his manic spiral. He sobs out a gasp, and looks to Isa with watery eyes and tear stricken cheeks. She smiled warmly with saddened eyes. She was no longer the innocent girl he saw in her today or days prior, now she was someone who somehow could peer into this old man's heart. Seeing his pain. Understanding his turmoil.

"Grand papi... even if they do not return to the system, your ancestors look down on you with pride as they ascend to the heavens. Your brother... he missed you, I know it. He is thankful and I know for certain he wondered every day when he would see you."

She gulps, thinking of what to say as her own mouth grew parched from this shared, emotional moment. "If... the System returns. Let go of these anchors you claim to have. And those regrets that tie you up. You do not need to utter them to me, Grand papi, but you cannot let what life you have left wither by."

"And if it doesn't return, sweet Isa?" Henrique asks, voice raspy and scared.

"Then... we will find those joys here. And move on, together. Wherever we can, however we can. And our ancestors will continue to look down on us, smiles on their faces, eager to see you live your life with happiness, and awaiting the day for you to join them once you have.

Henrique sighs with a shaky breath, and lays his head on Isa's arm. Isa, in turn, lays on the bed, supporting her Great Grand papis head. Giving him the comfort he required.

**March 1st, 2401**

> *21st January 2305*
>
> Dear Journal-- or, dearest Henrique, who I hope will return home safely to receive my journal as my parting gift. Its with a heavy, but hopeful heart that I might escape the enforcement of our seven years service to our country. I will not get a chance to meet you at the front, let alone meet you upon your return. *<span class="smallcaps">(Mal posso esperar para finalmente conhecer você, Henrique. Diago pode estar incerto, mas estou extasiado por finalmente conhecê-lo depois de todos esses anos em que você foi forçado a nos deixar.)</span>*
>
> While Fel may be excited, she is not wrong that I am hesitant. **(I am as well, but I have faith in our future.)**
>
> I agree, Davi. By the time you'll have read this entry, you'd have learned that our auntie Corita and our Mami had been planning to secret me away so I would not be forced to participate in the conflict at the BrAr Line. I know it is not my place to say such, but I apologize that we did not tell you while you were still in service.
>
> While I may be leaving, Auntie Corita told Iara and Ana that when they turn 18, she'll do the same for them, and we'll all meet each other in the System one day. Which is a day I greatly look forward to.
>
> I miss you, brother. I miss the days we could have swam together, ate food together, and explored together. Yet this world we were born into chose to take that away from us. You were always so much braver than I was, and now here I am taking my first steps into a new world I can't ever come back from. *<span class="smallcaps">(Você é igualmente corajoso, Diago, e devemos estar entusiasmados! Esta é apenas mais uma aventura! E o Henrique vai se juntar a nós! Tenho certeza disso.)</span>*
>
> We eagerly look forward to the day we can see you, Henrique.
>
> Your little siblings, Diago, Fel, and Davi.

As Henrique closes the leather book for the final time, he exhales, tucking the journal away into his satchel. The door opens and an Ansible technician arrives.

She greets him with a nod, asks his name, and takes him down the hall. She confirms he answered all the questions on his questionnaire, and reassured him that this decision was final. Henrique simply nodded, acknowledging the questions with polite answers, stepping in time with the gentle tap of his cane. Each step feeling lighter than the last, like years of weight fell off his back, as if piles of ash or fettered leaves flowed free into the compost, ready to fertilize new growth, new life, new hope.

The techs put him into the seat, the process seamless, precise, and he feels as if he was floating, a leaf gliding amongst the wind and beautiful breeze... and he closes his eyes.

The sensation of stretching in blackness, like a series of strings strung taught and sewn back, was as unnerving as the visual of a slate gray box surrounding him. But this unease passes as he immediately sighs, eyes closing once more as the feeling of chronic pain and aged weariness was, thankfully, entirely gone. He exhales, the soreness of his shoulders, exposed to decades of hard labor, could finally relax. That foul weight, finally lifted.

"Welcome to Lagrange, this room you find yourself in is called AetherBox#9182. Currently, I am facing away from you so you may have some privacy. Please, let me know when I may turn, unless you do not require any clothes. Simply want your desired apparel into being, and it will be there."

Henrique's eyes open, wrinkled smile growing into a briefly confused frown as the individual who just spoke to him was some kind of furry. A species of creature he had not seen before, with a large black tail flanked by two defined white stripes. She wore a very old fashion tweed jacket, and a red plaid skirt that hung just below that.

"Ah-- simply desire it, *Senhora...?*"

"Indeed, take your time. It is not as if we have a schedule to maintain."

There was a hint of irritation in that reply, and Henrique flushed red for a moment, embarrassed at being inconsiderate of this individual's time. He thinks for a moment, of his slippers, aged worker jeans, then his blue t-shirt and well worn wool sweater overtop. He looks down in pleasant surprise to see those very clothes on him... then he frowns, thinking... remembering memories of his younger days, before he met his beloved Annette, a button up white shirt, loose at the collar, straight and flowy at the hem, long too. Perfect for those especially hot summer days, then reimagined his worker pants... the day he first got them, how richly deep green they were, not how worn and damaged they were now, with discolored patches sewn on to cover up damaged holes. He recalled the well sewn fabric of thick, durable, comfortable material... and to his amusement found those exact clothes on him, in the same condition he miraculously remembered them as. He stepped forward, comfy slippers, now refurbished but still broken in, muffling his footsteps.

"*Senhora...?* I am ready, you can turn around now."

The black-and-white-striped furry turns on the spot, an exact motion, her rounded spectacles, housing slitted eyes that stared with a scrutinizing and dubious glare. She held a smile that felt tired, ungenuine, but not strictly forced... a smile that was rehearsed and used to mask some deeper-seated emotions, simply present to appear approachable.

"Again, welcome to Lagrange Mr. Pereira. It is my job to inform you of the basic mechanics that are present within the System. Your clothing was the first part of this exercise, next, we will go over forking. Please follow my lead."

While he had no idea what to expect upon uploading, he wasn't expecting such a hasty introduction... or at least one that felt so precise and mechanical.

"Pardon, *Senhora,* but may I ask if you are real?... Also, to slow down. I understand your time is valuable but this is feeling all a little overwhelming to me. Perhaps you could offer me your name? And you may refer to me as Henrique, please."

The furry's smile falters, before a hand raises up as she grasps her temples between two fingers. "My apologies, Henrique." She bows apologetically, curt and quick however, to keep this implied schedule on track.

"It has been... quite hectic recently, I assure you I am very much 'real' and not some digital construct you'd otherwise be familiar with on the 'net, if that was what you were implying. I suppose I have been feeling a little thin as a result of recent events. You may call me Then I Must In All Ways Be Earnest of the Ode Clade. In All Ways for short."

Henrique grunts and smiles. "Quite a name, In All Ways, but I do not judge. Now what is this about forking?"

She nods, then raises a hand to her side before an exact duplicate of her appears in an instant, mirroring her pose and demeanor. "Forking, as we of the System have coined it, is the ability to replicate yourself. It is important to know that this fork is not just a construct, a program, or a template-"

The other In All Ways speaks. "But a whole person. With their own desires, hopes, and dreams that are parallel or differ from your own. Those who dive into this practice wholeheartedly are known as dispersionistas, which make up the vast majority of the population here... while others who are more free with individuation are known as trackers, while not always as liberal with their forking, they still form the other sizable chunk of the Systems population. Lastly we have those who simply fork to complete tasks or short term objectives, and prefer not to individuate. They are aptly known as Taskers, and fill up the last chunk of the System.

Despite her best efforts, the slip up was clear in her speech. That pause allowed for the pang of unmistakable pain, anger, frustration, sadness, and grief, to give way to a convoluted series of expressions shared between the two In All Ways, both suffering these emotions in divergent ways. Some trauma surging forth and causing the twin furries to ripple briefly.

Henrique frowns, a hand raised to place upon or embrace In All Ways, before pulling back. "Ah... pardon I should ask before offering comfort. I understand the pain too well, In All Ways."

"Do you?!..." Both reply with a snap. The leftmost one maintains a spiteful glare, before vanishing as the original recoils and looks to the floor shamefully. Henrique all the while, continues to stand there with his hand out. Gradually, he lowers it and reaches for one of In All Ways paws, getting her attention. He gives an understanding smile, unphased by the furry's tumultuous emotions barely held at bay.

"I... can, yes. Perhaps not exactly as you do, In All Ways. But I can. I know the pain of losing someone. Someone close, someone you care for. And I give my sincerest condolences to those who you have lost. You are with common company, and you do not need to apologize, *Senhora.*"

"I am... I... Mm... Thank you." In All Ways mumbles, ceasing her seeking of that instinctual apology, the urge to explain, and glances up, tears just beginning to stain her cheeks, before she forks them away. She remains silent and nods, exhales, then breaths in, composing herself, and returns her gaze to the elderly man. His face, a gentle network of lines forming an understanding, compassionate smile.

"I would ask that you fork, Henrique. So that you are familiar with the process. Remember, do so with intent. Simply think it, and it will be."

"Think it, and it will be. Hm." Henrique mutters, his eyes, then head turning. Thoughts of clades, of trees, of the farm, of the family, of Diago, flash by and before him stood... him. But not as he is, rather, as he was. Him as he was a little under a century ago. Maybe 17 years of age, wearing the same shirt, now smaller. Similar pants, now cut short at the knee. And those slippers, now sized to fit. His hair that thick, unkempt brown and tied back. Eyes green and innocent. Heavily pigmented skin from days in the sun, with a slight tone in his muscles as well. Contrasting firmly to his current wrinkles, leather like skin, and hundreds of sun spots.

In All Ways stared at the pair, her eyes, tired still, no longer viewed either with suspicion or trepidation but with... hope. A hint of a smile creeping along her exhausted face, her shoulders untensed and fists unclenched.

"Good. It's important you understand how to fork, as it is a vital part of the System's mechanics. May we continue?"

Both Henriques look at one another, smiling in their own ways. The elders face wet with joy, years of regret resolved. The youths face beaming, and tearful as well. Excited for a future they never had.

The moment is peaceful, interrupted only by an embrace of the two Henriques, enhanced from this tranquility and relief. Then, there was one. As the elder Henrique accepted the merger and quit.

As In All Ways watches this happen, she walks up to the youth, standing at attention but with expressive hesitation in her face. "Actually, before we move onto the last step. I have a question I must ask. It is entirely optional, and purely to sate my own curiosity, so you need not answer if it does not suit you too."

Henrique looks to In All Ways, nearly at the same height now, and nods. Juvenile voice adjusting to what the world weary mind could recall. "Of course, ask away In All Ways."

She sighs, smile diminishing slightly. "Why did you choose to upload, now? Of all times. You... went through a tumultuous time, from what I read of your reports. And most of your immediate family uploaded centuries before you did. Why not then? And now... after the events that have transpired. Are you not afraid of what will happen next? Of the future?"

The beaming, childish expression of Henrique dims to one of contemplation, though that smile does not vanish in its entirety. "I was overcome with grief, frustration, and jealousy, when I returned from the front. And allowed those emotions to drive me into a life I did not want, convincing me that it was my responsibility. After all, seven years commanding men and women on burnt earth leaves one with that lingering urge to take the reins, not out of a want, but out of what is expected of them to keep them safe."

He sighs, slippered foot kicking at nothing in particular on the slate gray floor. "That expectation, those vile emotions, blinded me from what I really wanted. Masked the realization of why I was doing this to myself. I missed my brother, and I never got to say goodbye. Never got to see them one last time, never got to meet their headmates, more siblings for me to cherish. And for... what, a little over a hundred years? I couldn't come to terms with this. Not until I thought he was gone for good. Not until I had realized I truly lost my chance at a better life. And now? I'm happy, truely, absolutely happy. I can live how I wish, experience the things I never got too, and most importantly meet my brother and siblings. I was old, anyways, so if it were to all end now I can at least pass on with this seed of joy and hope within me."

In All Ways smile returns in full, her hand resting on Henriques shoulder. "Thank you for indulging me, Henrique. And I can assure you, we will see that seed blossom into something beautiful. Now, onto the final aspects of this training. My next step is to teach you how to navigate the System. Similar to forking, you must think with intent, in this case, of the location by its signifier. This is sometimes referred to as stepping into a sim."

Henrique nods, stepping back, before cocking his head. "But, In All Ways. I have just gotten here, where exactly do you expect me to go?... wait." His smile broadens and reveals his pearly teeth. "M-may I step into the sim of my brother? Is that possible?"

In All Ways nods, "I just sent a sensorium ping to... a down-tree of the 'Macaw' clade, they refer to themselves as Diago Hyacinth, so you are aware. They'll be awaiting your arrival. I'm sending you the name and tag of the Sim now.

Henrique shivers, feeling the sudden arrival of information that wasn't there mere moments ago. Excitement brimming.

"And one last thing, Henrique. What is your clade name? If you do not have something in mind for me to register now, I will simply reach out to you later." She steps back, signifying the finality of this meeting.

Henrique answers almost immediately. "Pereira Clade, please. Goodbye *Senhora* In All Ways. Thank you." and steps from the sim. He's met by a familiar sight, the backyard of his family home where he grew up, however instead of flat field with upturned dirt and rusting soccer goals, with a single floor shack of a house behind him, there was a plethora of budding flowers, green shrubbery, trees, and the serene sounds of chirping birds and gentle winds filling the air.

*"Olá, irmão mais velho!"*

*"Olá!"*

"Is... Is it really you?"

Henrique turns as he hears those three similar, familiar voices calling out to him. Now, as he looks upon the source of those voices, he stares up to see a towering, adult, anthropomorphized chimeric individual who wore the heads of a panther, a bull, and a python, on his widened torso, all staring at him with utmost glee. The trio step forward, those familiar green eyes impossible to confuse for anyone else's."

"*Sim, querido Diago*. It is me, Henrique, your big brother. Its really, truly, me."

The two surrender to their withheld urges, and rush to meet one another in tearful, joyful, brotherly fashion. An embrace sought after for generations, centuries, years that tried to dry and wither a snuffed and suffocating desire, a desire now rekindled and set ablaze into a blossoming, hopeful, beautiful sight to behold amidst this blooming garden. A single blue feather drifts down, as a macaw flies free with its flock in tow.
