On a warm August afternoon in 1966, a boy climbing a large hill outside Rio de Janeiro discovered a scene that would puzzle investigators for decades: two men lying side by side in neat suits, raincoats folded over their clothes, and strange handmade lead masks covering their eyes. Around them sat a small, orderly cluster of belongings  a water bottle, simple pills, tools, cash, and a notebook containing a cryptic set of instructions: “Be at the designated place at 4:30pm. Take capsules at 6:30pm. After effect, protect metals. Await signal. Mask.”

In this gentle bedtime telling, we drift through the warm grass of the hillside, the quiet preparations of two technicians seeking something beyond wires and circuits, and the lingering questions they left behind. No struggle, no panic  only intention, ritual, and mystery beneath a darkening Brazilian sky.

This is the story of Manuel and Miguel, and the quiet, tender puzzle they carried with them into the night  a reminder that not every secret wants to be solved, and some are meant to be felt as we drift toward sleep.