Raiyokan and the Fibonacci Sequence

Chapter 11: Identity Crisis and the Fibonacci Prophecy

Mariana's lack of response to my letter was disheartening, dimming my hopes. Anxiety took over me, a sense of despondency. In that silence, I no longer saw a pause for reflection but a cold gesture of disdain in response to my actions.

The sadness deepened when I realized that the cause of her indignation was not my life as a Raiyokan warrior. On the contrary, it was my attitude toward Peter—a judgment I expressed during neuroanatomy class—that had left her reproachful. This revelation added a chasm between us, plunging me into a state of uncertainty.

As I reflected, I could not find a single moment in which Mariana defended Peter's criminal acts. Her concern did not seem to focus on what he had done but on the hasty conclusions I had drawn about his character.

In the introspection that enveloped me, I delved into the subtle details of that remarkable day when I crossed paths with Peter at the church. Every memory, meticulously reviewed, revealed no signs of hatred coming from him toward me.

Peter's purpose in that church became increasingly unclear, challenging my perceptions. A feeling grew within me, suggesting that Peter did not fit the mold of a simple reincarnation of the Thunders warriors.

This perception, which I could not articulate, emerged alongside Mariana's words about not making any judgments. Yet the mystery grew even more conflicting, and my thoughts were invaded by negativity.

Driven by the need to shake off this mood during a period of low self-esteem, a bold idea emerged as a glimmer of hope. Despite the demands of college consuming most of my time, I decided to dive into an activity that could, for a moment, dispel my discouragement. I put on my Bluetooth headphones, tuned in to police radios, and donned my Super Raiyokan uniform once again.

Wearing the mantle, I envisioned the opportunity to overcome limitations and find a form of empowerment that heroism could provide, even if only temporarily, and even if my identity as Diego remained hidden.

Contrary to my initial approach, this time, as I resumed the role of superhero, I decided I would not remain anonymous. My personal life would be protected, but Super Raiyokan would emerge as a figure known worldwide.

On that first night patrol along Afonso Pena Avenue, a police officer had asked me not to remove the mask. If he had ordered it, I would have complied out of respect for the law. However, this second venture compelled me to adopt a bolder stance; I would become a vigilante, unyielding in the face of any police officer or authority.

The mask, once a symbol of protection for my identity, now carried a new weight. It became an emblem of defiance, a visual expression of my internal conflict and my decision to rebel against established conventions.

Despite the recklessness of my actions, the motivation driving me to the night life as a superhero ran deep. The recent breakup with Mariana had left a void, a wound I recklessly tried to fill with the role of Raiyokan. Amid the decision to reveal my identity to the world (as Raiyokan, of course), there was also a need to show Mariana that I could move forward, seemingly unshaken by the breakup.

In seeking recognition, I fed a narrative of triumph, but in reality, I was sinking into paths of self-sabotage. My choice to become a nighttime vigilante revealed more about my inner conflicts than about the effectiveness of this heroic endeavor.

The alert from the police frequency burst into my ears, triggering a surge of adrenaline. As Super Raiyokan, I rushed toward the latest shootout, a force in the darkness. Approaching the conflict, I decided to confront the criminals directly, a display of heroism that, in my mind, symbolized invulnerability.

Entering the scene was accompanied by the metallic sound of gunfire. Only a few meters from the criminals, I advanced with the determination of someone who believed themselves indestructible. I wanted to challenge the mortal laws of bullets, showing the apparent immunity of a hero in the face of violence.