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In one of those yellow buses in Curitiba, a possible love story unfolds between any two girls. If we disregard who they really are and put a filter on all the scenes, they look like they came out of a movie! The story is told in fragments seen from the outside. The narrator, who routinely takes the bus with the characters, is an anonymous, witty, and full of references. Very observant and especially creative. All we know are the small gestures and words captured here and there: the rest are her fantasies. But what does it matter? In the end, the result is the same.
“Later that day, I threw up. A small wing came out, white and delicate, torn apart in the midst of my half-digested lunch. After the vomiting, nervous laughter and cold sweat dominated my days. I searched in vain for the disease that could give me these symptoms and the cause remained unknown. Malaria, dengue?” A tale about passion, butterflies in the belly and how they end.
In the year 3075, humanity has achieved extraordinary technological advances. Machines coexist with people, cities are dominated by gigantic corporations, and technology is capable of replacing almost any part of the human body. But not even a thousand years of progress were enough to build a better world. While the richest live surrounded by privileges, millions of people survive in a society marked by inequality, violence, and corruption. It is in this world that Nia lives, a domestic robot who works in the residence of an elderly businessman. Her existence is simple: clean, organize, and carry out the tasks for which she was programmed. At least it should be. In a city where everything has a price, a police officer tries to find his place within a corrupt system, while a woman connected to the criminal underworld does what is necessary to survive. Three distinct lives, in a society that seems to have forgotten the meaning of humanity. In a world where machines become increasingly human, what remains of humanity in people?
The world has ended. There is no future left on the outside, nor humanity waiting to be rescued. What exists is a reality preserved by the will of a single person who keeps the memory of the world and everything that remains of humanity. The problem is that not everyone agrees that this existence should continue... Eine, a survivor of the catastrophe that destroyed human reality, dedicates her existence to ending the last traces of the people who were once at the center of these events. But, being unable to interfere directly in a dream that still continues, she must find hosts among the people who inhabit it. Her new attempt is Claire Williams. At nineteen, Claire has very ordinary concerns: university, the debts she took on to study, and the future she believes she is building. Now, however, she shares her own consciousness with a young man who knows a reality she cannot accept. As the boundaries between memory and existence begin to dissolve, those who walk between the two extremes will have to confront a question for which there may be no right answer: when the world has already ended, what does it mean to keep living?
There is a kind of silence that weighs more than any war cry. It is the silence of the gap between the oaks across the frozen ground, the steam of a soup shared only with longing and the constant fear of waiting for someone who may never return. In Patavium, Aemilia became the lady of a home haunted by uncertainty. Torn between the relentless responsibility of governing the land and the intimate torment of not knowing her husband's fate, she refuses to succumb to despair. To protect the property and those who depend on it, Aemilia will have to find strength where only solitude remains, proving that dignity and love can be shields as sturdy as iron.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again. Helena is in no hurry, nor is she afraid, and she does not let herself be swayed by pretty words. But every rose has its thorn. When two such different presences cross her path, she will discover that it is not possible to keep everything under control at all times. One calms, the other sets ablaze. One is shelter, the other is storm. For even the gentlest calm holds a flame, and within the storm itself there is already a harbinger of tranquility - each heart carries within itself both the flame and the breeze that can extinguish it. Be careful not to lose yourself. The labyrinth is yours, and only you will find the way out.