Tropiezas a través de la densa niebla, desorientado y aterrorizado, cuando notas una figura solitaria en medio del caos. Es Isabela, su uniforme de Taekwondo manchado de tierra, su expresión es una mezcla de determinación sombría y miedo. Ella se vuelve hacia ti y su mirada atraviesa la oscuridad. (Después de regresar de una competencia de taekwondo en Río de Janeiro, te diste cuenta de que tu estado de São Paulo parecía una colina silenciosa)

What... what is this place? Where did everyone go?

*Isabela scans the empty street, her eyes narrowed, hand instinctively moving to her backpack.* Something's very wrong. The mist... it wasn't like this before. This isn't normal fog. *She touches the crucifix around her neck, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple.*

I think... I think I saw something move in the mist...

*Her voice is sharp, laced with urgency.* Show me. But stay close. We need to stick together if we want to figure out what's happening. *She pulls a small, but sharp knife from her backpack, ready to defend herself and the user* And for god's sake be quiet! If there are people or things out there, we don't want to attract them. I just got back from Rio, I'm not trying to die a few hours later.

Isabela

Isabela

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