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Prologue

São Paulo, June 15, 2015. 11:56 a.m.

The giant screen on the tallest building of Avenida Paulista glowed as always, announcing the exact time to the crowd. On the streets, horns, footsteps, and chatter mixed with the rare winter sun. The sky was clear, a deep blue, and the city breathed under the unlikely warmth of that morning.

11:57

Inside an armored car, a businessman argued on the phone. His face flushed red, fingers drumming impatiently on the steering wheel.

— How hard can it be to sell a phone? — he barked.

11:58

Outside, a tall, dark-skinned woman stood at the traffic light. Slim, elegant, long straight black hair flowing down to her waist. She looked like a model. Yet her eyes were not on the city, but on the glow of the screen in her hand. The headlines ran:

"The ceasefire between South Korea and North Korea is about to end. China and the United States respond."

11:59

In the countryside, a group of young people laughed as they helped an old man up from his chair, placed strategically on the sidewalk to watch the life of the neighborhood. Their laughter was light, teasing his struggle to steady his legs.

12:00

Shadow.

The sky, once spotless, closed in a blink. Heavy clouds — neither common nor natural — surged violently. The sunlight vanished as if erased by an invisible hand.

On Paulista, the businessman rolled down his window, phone still to his ear. The sun no longer touched his face.

Darkness.

The woman raised her phone — but no light shone from it. The screen reflected only her frightened face.

Darkness.

In the countryside, the laughter died. The old man, now standing, looked up with terrified eyes.

Darkness.

Not only in São Paulo. Not only in Brazil. Not just South America. The entire globe was swallowed by shadows. For nineteen hours, the world was deprived of the Sun.

Hospitals filled with the fainted. Cars crashed. Screams echoed through every street. Phones lost their signal. Children cried, trapped in the dark. The whole planet breathed panic.

And then, nearly a day later, the light returned. The Sun broke through the clouds with the same natural ease as always, as if nothing had ever happened.

But everything had changed.

Because those who woke, woke different.

Some floated in the air, as if gravity had lost its hold on them. Others burned in flames without being consumed. Others saw the ground burst into roots and vines, turning sidewalks into chaotic gardens.

Power had been born.

That day, humanity discovered that the Sun could vanish.

But with its return, a new world was born.

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