When the storm of bullets began, Aliyu shielded his head as best he could. These projectiles were much heavier than the previous ones. Each blow ached deep in his bones. Still, they lodged in his skin, not penetrating deeply enough to draw blood. They fired until the African's arms, torso, and legs were covered in metal nuggets, bullets hitting bullets, until the shots were now falling around him.

As soon as he noticed this, Aliyu saw a dozen slower projectiles flying towards him. Larger, they left a trail of smoke and, unlike normal bullets, they curved through the air. They hit him in the blink of an eye, but they detonated on impact, opening a large hole in the ground and throwing Aliyu dozens of yards backward.

As the explosions hurled him through the air, he felt several things break painfully against him. Despite having a myriad of materials embedded in his skin, nothing had pierced him more than an eighth of an inch. Not that it made any difference when the five "tractors" arrived where he had fallen. Aliyu remained still, eyes half-closed. If they thought he was dead, maybe they would stop attacking him.

A beam of light emerged from one of the machines and scanned the African's body from top to bottom several times. Aliyu heard muffled voices in English inside them, almost inaudible except for a word or two. They really weren't tractors. From what he could see through the slits of his eyelids, they were more like clothes, armor that completely covered the user. And from the English they spoke, he understood that they were working with the woman who had shot him. It was for them that she had called. They were the so-called Hammer Exos, whatever "exo" meant.

The beam of light lasted no more than a few moments. Again, whispers inside the Hammer Exos, and one of them jumped towards Aliyu. It would have stepped on his head if the African hadn't rolled away, but the thing reached his leg and tossed him back like a rag doll.

Before he even hit the ground, another Exo struck him heavily, driving him towards the pavement. He barely felt the impact of the asphalt on his back before another unleashed a flurry of punches that caught him completely off guard. A rain of blows that made Aliyu sink progressively into the ground, the rumble of the punches accompanied by the cracking of concrete and the African's bones.

Never in his life had he been injured. He had never felt so much pain, he never even imagined it was possible. He had no time to retaliate, punch after punch after punch, flesh and bones throbbing more and more in his face and torso. When one of those things grabbed him by the neck and leaped forward, pushing the back of his head against the asphalt, he knew he was going to die at that moment. He knew he would never see the redhead and his tattoos again, and he would never see Zainab again. He was sure that when she bled for the first time, she would be auctioned off. She would be discovered and lynched, cursed by the miners as a spawn of the devil, an aberration. But he was the aberration, not her. He was the one who deserved to die; he was the one who had been hated by God and Allah since early childhood. Whether of flames or marble, hell awaited him, an eternity of punishment for unnatural temptations. Unconsummated sins, embraces he would never give, lips he would never touch, the fiery red beard, the hair on that half-open shirt, the thighs, the bulge between the legs.

The Hammer Exo finished its lunge, tearing the asphalt with the back of Aliyu's head. It lifted him and slammed him against the ground a few more times before throwing him towards a companion who, in a jump, grabbed the African by the neck and pushed his face towards the fist of the previous one. For a brief moment, the African's arms tried to reach the metal claw that held him, but only until other Exos immobilized his limbs. For a whole minute, his head was pummeled between the fists of those things, in increasing agony, his consciousness hanging by a thread. Aliyu barely noticed when he began to beg, internally, to see the redhead again, even from a distance. He didn't know who he was begging or why, since the gods detested him precisely for such desires. What surprised him, however, was that his last prayer, instead of being for his sister's survival, was to see, just see, the stranger and his tattoos one last time.

That was when he began to feel a liquid in the areas where they were hitting him and also on his skin, under the bullets. Surprised, but still immobilized, he stared at the metal fist that was coming and going. Would he see his own blood for the first time?

The sensation of the liquid was very clear now. He soon saw it on the fist that was hitting him, but it wasn't red. It was a kind of black mud, and it smoked on contact with the metal. Suddenly, the Exos released him, surprised murmurs filling the air. Aliyu fell to his knees, his vision blurred, his limbs weak. Even so, he watched the dark liquid that was sprouting between the projectiles in his arms. It didn't drip to the ground. It spread over everything that had pierced him and over the little skin that had remained bare. That dark mud continued to envelop him, and now it was also sprouting from his eyelids, nose, and mouth. He thought he would suffocate, but even when his airways were taken, he didn't feel any discomfort. He was strangely invigorated, the pain fleeing from his bones as the liquid enveloped him in a thicker and thicker, more and more pasty layer. It covered what was left of his clothes, his hair, his beard, and even his eyes. However, he could still see. In fact, better than before. It was as if each drop of that mud, that black clay, served as his eyes, ears, nose. He saw in all directions at the same time, in a mixture of real colors with others he had never imagined.

The Hammer Exos launched another volley of bullets at him, but this time they didn't bother him. Through the clay, Aliyu saw each projectile sink into his new skin and, within it, melt like butter, disappearing completely.

At first, the enemies didn't seem to react. However, with his new hearing, the African understood what they were saying inside the machines:

"We can't attack him head-on anymore, sir! Requesting air support!"

"Attack now, Sergeant! That's an order!" a more metallic voice replied. "We can't let another one of these…"

Aliyu decided not to wait. He didn't understand why they were attacking him, but he knew they would do it again, in ways he preferred not to discover. He raised one of his hands and ran towards the Hammer Exo between him and the city center. The intention was just to clear a path, but even he was surprised when the machine was thrown half a dozen blocks away.

The voices inside the Exos ceased, and Aliyu didn't wait for them to return. He ran through the already deserted streets of Manaus when he noticed, through the clay on his back, a plane approaching at high speed. When the missiles were launched, he decided that, even though the Exos' ammunition no longer bothered him, he wouldn't risk new weapons. He turned a corner, hoping the rockets would go straight ahead, but he was out of luck. They followed him on the new street, uphill, now much closer.

Aliyu felt that he was running faster now, but not fast enough. The two missiles hit him in the back, with explosions that brought down several houses around him. The African was thrown to the end of the street, the force of the explosion reverberating through all the black clay, painful, hot as hell. His senses didn't fail, but it was clear that he was far from safe. And worst of all: those people, whoever they were, didn't care about the Brazilians at all. It was impossible to tell how many had been hurt in that fight, and if he went downtown, it would be an even bigger disaster.

As the plane circled back, Aliyu got up and ran towards the river. He had no idea if he could swim enveloped in the clay, nor what the effect of the water on it would be. However, he had to try. The river was the most deserted place he could find in that situation.

The missiles fired this time were even bigger than before. They didn't hit the African, but the explosions threw him far away, towards the river, way beyond the docks. And as much as he tried to swim, as soon as he fell into the water, Aliyu sank like a stone.