POV: HELENA IVYRA.
Renata was saying something about how her bookmark looked like a medieval sword, and I nodded, laughing, but my attention kept drifting away to the environment around us.
There was nothing strange, nothing magical, nothing spiritual… just discomfort.
A weird smell mixed into the air, maybe.
A light weight on the back of my neck, as if something had spread among the people.
Or maybe it was just my imagination.
I made a point of ignoring it.
After we finished our shopping and improvised a small snack, a somewhat rubbery cheese bread and a cheap soda, we went back to walking around the fair with no rush.
The crowd was still lively, students going in and out of booths, hunting for discounts, laughing loudly, being dramatic about not having enough money to buy everything they wanted.
"Okay," Renata said, stretching her arms. "I think we've officially cleared the map."
"Cleared? We barely explored half of it." I pointed out.
"Yes, except my money's gone. Therefore, exploration is over."
"Fair. Valid argument."
We were near the side exit of the hall, where the water outside made the place feel colder and more open.
The rain had completely stopped, and now scattered droplets fell from the edge of the roof, forming small rhythmic taps on the ground.
The brightness made the air feel less heavy there.
Everything felt like an ordinary rainy day with a small strange coincidence…
That's when we heard it.
"Guys… did you see the thing about the daycare?" said a girl a few steps from us.
"From Blumenau, right?" another replied, her voice trembling. "My mom just texted me…"
Renata and I exchanged an automatic look. It wasn't the tone people use for random gossip.
We stopped out of instinct, without even agreeing on it.
The girls kept talking, now quieter, but still audible.
"A guy walked into a daycare with an axe and k-killed five children…" the first one said, her voice numb.
"Oh my gosh…" the other whispered.
Renata's eyes widened.
I felt a shiver run down my spine, as if someone had dragged an icy cloth along my back.
"Did you hear that?" she asked.
"I did…"
I stepped a little closer, not wanting to seem nosy.
Other people were listening too, and the news spread quickly, like gunpowder between students, teachers, and vendors.
Blumenau was right there. A neighboring city. A sister city.
A place anyone from here could reach in less than two hours by car.
The thought of something so brutal happening so close made the air feel… scarier.
"Damn…" I murmured. "That's…"
But I couldn't finish the sentence.
Because there wasn't a single word that could describe it.
Horrible? Absurd? Sickening? Unimaginable?
None of them felt enough.
And maybe because of that, everything became more gray.
The hall, the sounds, the laughter… everything felt a bit off, a bit wrong, a bit misaligned with reality in that moment.
As if the news had stripped something from us, an invisible layer of protection that kept the day sunny despite the rain.
"It's so weird," Renata said. "These things… they happen far away, you know? In places we can't reach. But when it's next door…"
"It feels like we're not prepared for it," I finished.
She nodded, her expression somber.
We stayed quiet for a few seconds.
And then, as if the universe wanted to illustrate the moment, an unpleasant sound echoed through the hall.
The sound of someone vomiting.
I turned automatically, expecting to see just a student feeling sick. It happened all the time at crowded events.
But it wasn't just one.
"Look over there…" Renata whispered, frightened.
About fifteen meters away, a boy was bent over, hands on his knees, vomiting on the floor, his whole body shaking.
Next to him, a teacher tried to help, holding his shoulders.
But further ahead. Another one started vomiting.
Another person.
And another.
And another.
In under a minute, I counted mentally, because I was frozen, watching at least ten people vomiting in the hall.
Some dropped to their knees, others let their backpacks fall and doubled over.
A girl started crying while holding her stomach.
The acidic smell spread quickly, mixing with the warm, humid air.
My stomach churned slightly.
Another person further back fell from a chair and began convulsing.
'How is this happening?'
"That's something going on…" Renata murmured.
All I could do was nod.
Teachers started moving around, trying to push students back, asking for calm, opening space.
Vendors looked scared, some complaining about the mess, others trying to help with improvised clothes.
And then, as if the day hadn't gotten strange enough…
Two adult men, maybe employees or visitors, started arguing near the entrance.
I only noticed because their voices cut through the noise, a sharp crack, like a misplaced thunderclap.
An energy reader went off. One of the men activated an enchantment.
"STOP!" one of them yelled.
The other shoved someone out of his way. Without warning, the first one lunged as if he had completely lost control.
The second reacted with the same sudden rage, as if both were puppets pulled by invisible strings.
The second one activated an enchantment too, forming a sort of dagger around his wrist. They crashed into one of the fair guards, one of the security workers hired for the event.
All three toppled into a pile of book boxes. The guard tried to restrain them, but the two men seemed uncoordinated and feral, like cornered animals.
"What the…?!" Renata put a hand over her mouth.
"They… are they insane?" I muttered, stunned.
The guard took an elbow to the face, another to the shoulder, while he tried to immobilize one of them.
A scream echoed. People started backing away, retreating like waves opening in the sea.
It took a stronger teacher and two vendors to separate the men.
And then someone shouted:
"CALL THE COPS!"
"SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!"
"PEOPLE ARE PASSING OUT!"
Everything became a chaotic sort of order, but still terrifying.
Students gathered near their teachers. Some were pale. Some shaking.
Others frantically asked about classmates who had fainted or vomited. There were isolated sobs, quickened breaths, lost stares.
I myself… felt something inside me become restless.
It wasn't magic. It wasn't QP.
It was just… human fear.
The police arrived quickly, the city wasn't big, and the book fair was downtown.
Two patrol cars stopped near the hall, followed by an ambulance and a fire department truck, probably summoned by the energy reader. Then another. Sirens sliced through the air like blades, shifting the tone of conversations.
Some students started recording videos, as they always did. Others hid behind teachers.
Paramedics jumped in immediately, checking who fainted, who vomited, who was too pale.
Some teens were taken into the ambulance for oxygen.
Two adults as well. The men who attacked the guard were handcuffed.
The guard, nose bleeding, still tried to brush it off:
"I'm fine, I'm fine… just hold them, that hit didn't even have energy and it almost knocked me out…"
"Relax, they're restrained," a police officer told him.
And the school guard helped reorganize the students.
I stayed close to Renata, my heart beating way too fast, my throat dry.
"Helena…" she whispered. "What the hell was that?"
"I don't know… but it didn't seem… normal."
"Not even close to normal."
The lights in the hall flickered once, maybe a coincidence, maybe an electrical issue, but it made me flinch.
It felt like the entire environment was charged with static.
When the chaos finally started to settle, when the sick were being treated and the two men taken away, teachers organized the classes for an immediate return to the school.
"Everyone!" teacher Andressa shouted. "We're going back! Slowly! In pairs! Don't separate!"
Renata grabbed my arm without thinking. I held on back.
The walk back to the school was silent. The kind of silence that comes not from tiredness, but from shock.
I looked at the wet street, the cold buildings, and the overcast sky.
Something in the air felt… suspended.
As if the world had inhaled too deeply. And now… held its breath.
The walk had an odd rhythm, each step heavier than the last.
It wasn't just emotional exhaustion or a recent scare.
It was something else.
Something that clung to the skin, to the mind, as if the air was still soaked with that feeling of… imbalance.
Renata and I stayed together, holding hands, barely noticing it.
I only realized when we reached the square, where the cold wind made us shrink into our jackets. She let go slowly, rubbing her chilled palms.
"I'm still trying to understand what happened," she said, finally breaking the silence that followed us from the fair.
"Me too…" I replied.
On any other day, the street would be alive even with rain: cars, voices, barking dogs, the smell of bread from bakeries.
But at that hour, on that Tuesday that felt misplaced on the calendar, everything was too quiet.
Some cars drove by slowly, drivers glancing toward the distant sirens with uneasy expressions.
People on the sidewalks whispered to each other, probably trying to confirm the news about Blumenau.
And I kept thinking: how can the world change so much in so little time?
The image of the two men attacking the guard was stuck in my mind, their uncoordinated movements, the shouting, the way they seemed unable to perceive where they were. It was almost like watching two puppets with crossed strings.
Even so, what bothered me most was the other part: the twenty, maybe thirty people getting sick at the same time.
Vomiting with a violence that didn't seem normal, as if something inside them had been triggered all at once.
I looked at Renata, who stared at the ground.
"Do you think it could've been spoiled food?" I asked, trying to find simple explanations. "Or, I don't know… allergies? Intoxication?"
She shook her head slowly.
"Those things… happen. But not to that many people. Not like that. Not to such different people."
"I know…"
I wanted to believe it was just bad luck, coincidence, and humid weather. But the truth was the whole thing felt broken.
Something didn't fit. Something didn't make sense in a deep, unsettling way.
Our class group walked ahead in a compact block. Teachers tried to keep everyone close, repeating the same instructions:
"Don't spread out!"
"Stay in pairs!"
"The school's been notified!"
"Go straight to your classroom when we arrive!"
With every order, the tension grew.
Renata sighed softly, crossing her arms.
"You know what's worse?" she murmured. "This feeling that something is still going to be wrong, even after we get there."
I swallowed hard. I was thinking the exact same thing.
But I didn't say it. We kept walking until the school gate.
The courtyard was empty, of course, all classes had gone to the fair, but the sight of the place gave me a brief sense of relief, like returning to a harbor after a storm.
Some students whispered:
"My grandma texted saying she saw the daycare thing on TV…"
"My brother's at the hospital, he got sick too…"
"Do you think something was in the air?"
"I saw the guy hitting the guard… he almost broke his jaw!"
"The police took both… they said they were having some kind of episode."
"God, what a weird day…"
Each voice felt like a loose piece of a giant puzzle no one could assemble.
When we entered the main building, I felt the familiar smell of the cold hallway — usually unpleasant, but now… comforting.
The school smelled of routine, predictability, normality.
Something we were sorely lacking. Teachers told us to go straight to the classroom.
The room was quieter than I expected.
Some people were pale, others overly agitated, talking too fast, like they needed to release pent-up adrenaline.
A girl lay on a friend's shoulder, trying to catch her breath.
Renata sat at the desk next to mine, tossing her backpack on the floor.
"Helena…" she began. "This has nothing to do with QP, right?"
I turned to her.
"I don't think so. At least… not anything I know."
"It just felt so… chaotic. The people, the way they were…"
"I know," I replied.
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to organize my thoughts.
The memory of the boy's rigid movements in the courtyard earlier, the disconnected laughter, the purple marks on his skin… all of that added to what we saw at the fair…
It was too much of a coincidence for a single day.
That was the problem: too many coincidences don't feel like coincidences. A bigger commotion formed near the door.
A teacher entered, adjusting his glasses nervously, or trying very hard not to look nervous.
"Class…" he began, taking a deep breath. "The administration asked all classrooms to remain organized and wait for further instructions. No one leaves. No one walks around the building without permission."
Some students complained, others only stared with apprehension.
"Everything is under control," he added quickly. "The situation at the book fair has been stabilized, and the authorities are handling those who fell ill. The police have reported that there's no immediate danger. But as a precaution, you'll stay here until further notice."
Renata raised her hand.
"Teacher… What happened there?" she asked. "The people who fainted… did anyone say what caused it?"
He hesitated. And that tiny hesitation made everyone hold their breath.
"Apparently, it was collective food poisoning," he answered. "Authorities are investigating the cause. It may have been something one of the vendors offered, or even contaminated water, we don't know yet."
A sudden discomfort twisted in my stomach.
It was the right answer to calm students. But not an honest answer.
Renata looked at me with a raised eyebrow, clearly thinking the same thing.
Thirty people vomiting at once?
Two men having violent breakdowns at the same time with no substances involved?
Food poisoning?
I inhaled deeply. The teacher continued talking about safety, staying in the room, waiting for parents to be notified.
But my mind was far away. Very far.
The rest of the class. or what should've been our second class, passed slowly.
Time seemed to melt between my fingers, like sand slipping through.
I tried to ignore conspiratorial thoughts, but it was hard to ignore the sensation that something was about to happen.
When the bell rang, it echoed louder than usual. Students jumped from their seats as if shocked. We were released for recess.
'Maybe we can get a moment of peace…'
Recess unfolded like it was in slow motion.
Few people chose to leave their classrooms. Most stayed where they were or only stepped into the hallway.
I tried to use the chance to get some fresh air…
But when I stepped out of the classroom and crossed the gravel courtyard toward the bathroom and drinking fountain, a flash of strong blue and red light shone across the schoolyard — two police cars had entered through the back entrance.
And from them, four officers stepped out.
Four adult men, wearing tactical vests and completely black clothing. They were walking toward the principal's office…
Until one of them looked in my direction…
We made eye contact for a few seconds. Until… His posture shifted sharply. He turned to the man beside him…
And for a millisecond, I thought he had mistaken me for someone else.
But…
As soon as the other officer laid eyes on me, he said something to the rest…
And they all… drew their guns. And aimed them at me, ready to shoot.
There were no words to describe the fear that surged through me.
"That's her. We want her alive," the man in the center said.
My heart almost stopped…