Two heads, one big and one small, peek out from behind the damp, rotting planks.
First the big, dark one, then the small, red one.
Lopera: Is this the place?
Rodrygo: Of course. Sure as shooting.
Lopera: Rodrygo, I think you must've taken a wrong turn somewhere. There's no one here.
Rodrygo: Even if Sandro isn't here, it shouldn't be abandoned. There were people living here.
Rodrygo: But remember the gunshots earlier? Perhaps the Apostles Brotherhood got here before us.
Lopera: Well, since there's no one, we don't exactly need to stick to the shadows.
Lopera: Come on, let's take a look around and see what we can find.
The girl pokes her small frame out from behind the planks before Rodrygo pulls her back.
Lopera: What?!
Rodrygo: Wait a minute.
Rodrygo: Look closely. Something's moving behind the clothes on that laundry line.
Lopera: Hmmm.
Lopera squints as though aiming at an enemy, then widens her eyes in surprise. There is indeed someone behind the hanging, wrinkled clothes.
Wearing Zeno colors.
Lopera: Oh, see the colors? They're friendly. No need to worry.
Rodrygo: No. Things don't seem right, little birdie. That soldier looks strange to me. Trust this unlucky old thing's intuition on this.
Lopera: What the hell are you talking about?
The girl doesn't intend to listen to him. She gets up and slips out of cover again.
But Rodrygo is quick to pull her back once more.
Rodrygo: Wait, don't do that! You trying to get yourself shot?
Lopera attempts to call the Zeno soldier over, but an oily hand, reeking of fish, covers her mouth entirely.
Lopera: Hmph! Let go, damn it!
Rodrygo's strong grip renders her struggle futile. The two wait in an awkward, tense stance for the Zeno soldier's next move.
Zeno Corporal: ...?
The soldier does not seem to have taken any notice of their hidden struggle, but he moves cautiously still.
Rodrygo's attempt to prove his judgment correct loses out to Lopera's struggling impatience.
Bang—
Rodrygo: cough
Rodrygo: Damn it! What just happened?
A freshly made smoke bomb releases a cloud of moth-scale dust, giving the girl a chance to break free from his clutches.
Lopera: Hey! Have you lost your mind, Rodrygo?!
Rodrygo: cough Don't go ...
The alchemical explosion startles the soldier, who turns his gun toward the smoke.
Zeno Corporal: ...?
Zeno Corporal: Who's there?
The girl emerging from the pale smoke is unmistakable. Anyone who serves at the São Paulo base would recognize her in an instant.
Zeno Corporal: It's ... you?!
Lopera: Hey, it's me, Lopera. Put the gun down.
Lopera: Come on, I need your help. Some old fool has been threatening me.
The corporal's frame stiffens, unmoving except for his eyes, which twitch wildly.
Zeno Corporal: Antonio, someone's here!
Another nervous Zeno soldier emerges from a nearby house, rifle in hand.
Lopera: What are you two doing? You recognize me, don't you? Seriously, you guys are so—
The Zeno corporal doesn't answer, but her training and instincts read the twitching movements and telegraph his intention—he's preparing to fire.
Lopera: ...?!
Rodrygo: Have a fish!
Zeno Corporal: ...?!
A fermented fish flies through the air, momentarily distracting the aggressors.
Zeno Corporal: Fire!
Lopera is pushed through a narrow door, a spray of bullets zipping over her head.
Lopera: What are they doing?!
Rodrygo: You gotta fight back, kid! Where's that gun of yours?!
GAMEPLAY
Antonio is the first to fall, toppling over into a heap, his soul seeping out with the blood pooling at his side.
But the other soldier remains wounded, alive.
Zeno Corporal: N-No!
Lopera: Traitor!
The small but powerful tip of a shoe kicks the soldier in the shoulder, digging into a fresh bullet wound.
Zeno Corporal: Ahhhh!
The corporal curls his body over to the other side, only to be flipped back over by Rodrygo.
Rodrygo: Enough, that's twelve kicks already. One more, and you might put him down for good.
Rodrygo: We still have questions for him.
Lopera: What's going on? Tell me everything, right from the beginning.
Zeno Corporal: I ... well, first ... after I joined Zeno—
Rodrygo: Meu Deus, not the whole damn story. How about this for a start—why are you here?
Zeno Corporal: I-I was just out gathering supplies.
Rodrygo sighs heavily, as though he has already guessed the whole truth.
Rodrygo: And who were you gathering supplies for?
The corporal averts his eyes, hoping silence might save him.
Lopera: Oh? That's how you want to play it, huh?
Lopera pulls out her revolver and presses it to the corporal's temple, the cold barrel breaking his will in an instant.
Zeno Corporal: No, no, no. I'll tell you everything.
He knows well enough—this little birdie wouldn't hesitate to execute him. Antonio's body is proof.
Lopera: Spit it out.
Zeno Corporal: I don't know who gave the order. I only know he's from the ... Apostles Brotherhood.
Zeno Corporal: They wanted food, sugar, rum, even people—everything!
Lopera: The Brotherhood?!
Lopera leaves a purple bruise on his cheekbone with the butt of her gun.
Zeno Corporal: Ah! You lunatic!
Lopera: How did you get mixed up with those bastards?
Zeno Corporal: Haven't you felt how things at Zeno have changed? You didn't notice anything?
Zeno Corporal: Of course ... You're not like us. You're not ordinary. But we are. We only joined Zeno to make a living, not to serve that lunatic Carlos.
Zeno Corporal: This is all his fault. We can't let him bring another massacre to Socorro. The Brotherhood said they would help us.
Lopera: Be more specific—what is going on with Carlos?
A momentary spasm of contempt flashes across the corporal's lips.
Zeno Corporal: Carlos is dead.
Lopera: What? He's dead?!
Lopera: That can't be. He was alive when I left the base!
Zeno Corporal: Then you just missed it. I bet the maggots are already feasting on him by now.
The corporal shivers from blood loss and the cold. The same chill slowly creeps up Lopera's spine.
Lopera: This doesn't make any sense.
Rodrygo exhales a murky cloud of hot breath to one side, unnoticed by Lopera.
Rodrygo: Carlos ...
Rodrygo: If what he said is true ... Oh, God. This could turn São Paulo upside down. Who'd have thought Zeno would end up in a mess like this?
Rodrygo: And Sandro ...
His coarse fingers rub the corners of his eyes.
Rodrygo: ...
Rodrygo: Seems like it, don't it?
Rodrygo returns to Lopera's side and places his hand gently on her arm, lowering the barrel of the gun.
Rodrygo: No, you know the score, little birdie. They killed Carlos, then joined up with the Apostles Brotherhood.
Rodrygo: In military terms, it sounds like mutiny.
Lopera shakes off Rodrygo's hand and presses the gun hard into the corporal's forehead, the cold metal sinking into his skin.
Zeno Corporal: Aaah!
The soldier grabs for the gun, but his blood-drained strength fails him. In his weakened state, he is no match for Lopera.
He fails to move the barrel even half an inch.
Zeno Corporal: Are you going to kill me?
Lopera: You're already an enemy in Zeno's eyes.
Judgment has been handed down.
Zeno Corporal: No! I'm not! I-I just wanted a way out. Please! Ask me anything, I'll tell you!
Rodrygo takes over the interrogation.
Rodrygo: Where is Sandro?
Zeno Corporal: Of course, yeah ... Wait, Sandro? Who is Sandro? You came to this village to find him?
The condemned man's expression is sincere, and on the verge of death he has no reason—nor likely the ability—to lie.
Zeno Corporal: There's no one else here. No one's been here. We just ran away after what happened to Carlos.
Lopera: But you killed your comrades to escape the base, right?
Zeno Corporal: I ...
Lopera: Darn it!
Zeno Corporal: Ugh!
Lopera: Traitor!
Zeno Corporal: cough
Rodrygo: Lopera!
Rodrygo pulls her away before she can cause any more harm to the dying corporal.
Zeno Corporal: Please ... whatever you want ... just leave me here ...
He musters the courage to look Lopera in the eye one last time, his eyes swimming in a cocktail of fluids—blood, sweat, and tears.
Zeno Corporal: We ... were comrades once, right?
Zeno Corporal: I remember ... uh, playing cards with you. You were cheating, but I didn't care ...
Zeno Corporal: ... For the sake of those old games ... you remember my name, do you ...?
The corporal throws his hand across his chest, grabbing at the pocket on his uniform.
Lopera: Don't move a muscle.
Zeno Corporal: It's not a weapon ... I just want to ... show you ...
The corporal continues to fumble at his chest, and Lopera raises her firearm. Both of their arms tremble.
In this moment, the three of them freeze in silent agreement, only a trembling hand moves, reaching into an open pocket.
A gust of wind gathers the stench of the rainforest's decay, blowing humid, sticky air across the scene.
Lopera: ...
The thick forest isolates their little unfolding drama from the rest of the world. There is no one else here but them and a fragile, dying man, who hopes he can tell her his name.
Zeno Corporal: Lucas ...
The air is so thick it feels toxic. In the moment, it feels like all of this is just some sick hallucination.
Only a nightmare, a fleeting moment with no consequences. She doesn't have to pull this trigger.
She could leave now, return to the base, as though nothing happened. That idiot Carlos might even still be alive, but at the very least things will be back in order.
Lopera: Lucas ...
The dark gun barrel forms a black sun in the Zeno corporal's eyes.
And then the sun explodes.
Lopera: You have to learn the consequences of your actions.
Disloyalty and betrayal can never be forgiven.
Rodrygo: ...
Rodrygo squats down, first taking the corporal's pistol, then reaching into his chest pocket.
Rodrygo: It's a dog tag. Should we take it with us?
Without a single word, Lopera grabs the dog tag and tosses it into her cauldron.
She sits on the ground. Never before has a battle left her so exhausted, physically and mentally. Her thoughts are as tangled as her ginger hair.
Lopera: Sandro isn't here.
Her words sound like a whimper.
Lopera: I want to go back.
Rodrygo: Go back? No, you can't go back. Not yet. We've still got a ways to go.
Rodrygo: Come. I'll take you to Sandro. We have to keep looking for him.
The girl jumps back up to her feet indignantly.
Lopera: What did you say?
Rodrygo: Lopera, listen to me.
Lopera: Why should I listen to you? Last I checked, you weren't in my chain of command!
Rodrygo: Maybe not, but it weren't for me, kid, you would have walked right up to those traitors and probably caught a bullet like your general.
Lopera: ...!
His point was, unfortunately, irrefutable. She could only offer a huff in reply.
Rodrygo: We have no idea what the situation is now! Is your Zeno base now a rebel stronghold, or are there loyal soldiers still holding on there? And what is the Apostles Brotherhood doing through all of this?
Rodrygo: Perhaps Lucas and Antonio knew more, but the dead don't speak to likes of us.
Lopera: I ...
Rodrygo: I'm not blaming you.
Rodrygo: I only mean the jungle may be the safest place for us now. So, let's get Sandro first. At least then we'll have another ally.
Lopera's mind is swirling, still too chaotic to form her own plan. Rodrygo seems to offer the only path forward.
She nods.
Lopera: Fine, we keep going.