The sun was low when Barbara and her archaeology team entered the remote region of Northern Ghana.
The dirt road was rough. The tires of their old truck bounced over sharp rocks as villagers moved aside.
Barbara leaned forward, speaking to the young local driver. "We should reach the Urzatga border before sunset, right?"
"Yes, Miss," the driver replied. "But path gets slower after river. No cars beyond that."
Behind her, the rest of the team checked their gear—notebooks, cameras, water tanks.
Three students. Two assistants. And Dr. Renshaw, her mentor.
Barbara looked at him. "We're not bringing guards?"
Dr. Renshaw shook his head. "Too risky. The tribe doesn't like outsiders with guns. Money and respect can travel farther than weapons out here."
The team reached a small village by mid-afternoon.
Children ran barefoot alongside the truck. Curious eyes peeked from small mud homes.
Barbara stepped out politely. She offered a handshake to the village chief. An older man with strong eyes and a quiet mouth.
She gave him gifts—medical supplies, clean blankets, a solar radio, and a bag of coins.
"These are for your people," she said, gently. "We only ask one thing: safe passage and direction to the old forest."
The chief stared deeply at her. Then nodded.
"Go with the healer," he said. "She knows the trail. Urzatga land is awake again."
Barbara hesitated. "What does that mean?"
He just turned and walked away.
Alix, far from the group, crouched on a higher hill near Rowan. Both were watching everything.
"They're being watched," Alix muttered.
"I know," Rowan said calmly, eyes locked on the trucks below.
"You think the villagers…?"
"No," he replied. "Not villagers. Something older. It's already watching them."
That Night — On the Trail
Barbara's truck team left the village with a woman guide leading them on foot.
They followed the forest path into thicker trees.
Torches were lit. Their lights flickered like small stars under the green ceiling of the jungle.
Alix and Rowan moved silently through the side brush, staying hidden just out of sight.
After two hours, whispering sounds caught Rowan's ear.
He froze.
From ahead—shouting. Confusion.
"Down!" someone screamed.
Gunfire cracked once. Then silence.
Rowan's eyes sharpened. He and Alix moved faster.
Through the thick leaves, they saw what happened.
Five armed men stood in the clearing. Bandits—scarves over their faces, machetes at their belts.
The students were face-down on the ground. Barbara stood tall but surrounded.
"We don't want trouble!" Barbara shouted.
One bandit pushed her to her knees. "You stay quiet. Not hurt, just moved."
Another man picked up her satchel. "You rich people digging too deep in green dirt again."
Rowan's hands curled into fists.
"We wait," he said.
Alix looked surprised. "Wait? We have to help them."
"I'll act if they take her somewhere we can follow," Rowan said firmly. "If we show ourselves now, we lose everything."
Alix bit her lip but didn't argue.
They watched silently as the bandits tied Barbara's hands and began walking the trail into the deeper jungle.
The students stayed behind—shaken but safe.
An Hour Later – Deep Forest Route
Rain had started. Not heavy—just enough to make the leaves glisten.
Rowan and Alix walked carefully behind the trail left in dirt and broken ferns.
"They're not random bandits," Rowan finally said.
"What do you mean?" Alix asked.
"They didn't take gold. Or supplies. They only wanted her," he replied. "Someone told them who Barbara is."
"You think the tribe wanted her?"
Rowan nodded. "No doubt. They're waiting for her."
As they stepped around a fallen log, Alix slowed down.
"I hear drums," she whispered.
Rowan listened too.
Boom...
Boom...
Boom...
The rhythm was slow. Heavy.
Sacred.
"They've reached the shrine," he said. "It begins now."
Alix looked toward him.
"What do you think's waiting for her inside?"
Rowan stared ahead. His voice came low and cold.
The jungle didn't move.
It was like even nature was scared to make a sound.
Rowan crouched behind the thick trees, his eyes locked on the creature shaped like vines and blood. Alix stayed beside him, tense. She didn't ask questions this time.
She saw Rowan's expression.
He didn't blink.
His face was pale.
He looked like someone seeing a nightmare they couldn't wake from.
Inside the shrine, the demon stood tall. Vines wrapped around his arms and moved like they had their own breath. Green light pulsed from inside his chest.
Dr. Renshaw shouted again, pointing at the beast.
"He is a demon from the Abyss War! A destroyer born before history. He was not worshipped — he was feared!"
Barbara stared at him. "But… this shrine…"
"It belonged to the cheetah goddess!" Renshaw said. "But she lost. She came here after a great war… wounded."
Rowan flinched when he heard that.
He didn't look at Alix, didn't move.
He just listened.
The demon finally spoke again.
His voice was slow, layered, sick with age.
"She did not fall in war. She ran. She was already fading when I found her. In her final breath, I drank her light."
"You're lying," Barbara said quickly.
The demon did not respond to that.
Instead, he spoke louder.
"I was once given a name. But names fade. War makes things quiet."
He looked down at the jungle floor.
"There were gods who stood at the edge of the sky. They fell. I consumed one of them."
Then silence.
Alix whispered without turning her head, "Rowan... his words feel heavy. Like they're pulling the air down."
Rowan finally spoke, barely above a whisper.
"He's not supposed to exist," he said. "Not in stories. Not in history. Nothing."
He didn't explain more. Not to Alix. Not yet.
Not because of trust—because he couldn't.
This was the first time in his whole new life he felt… lost.
I've remembered timelines… villains… monsters... even things that never happened in West continuity...
But this? A demon older than memory?
He clenched his hand without speaking.
Am I looking at something erased? Or something that was never supposed to be seen again?
Inside the shrine, Barbara's hands trembled. She backed away from the demon.
But behind her, the shrine glowed yellow under her skin. A heartbeat not hers.
The last piece of the cheetah goddess still lived.
And it was waking.
Alix whispered, "Rowan, should we go in now?"
"No," he said.
"Why?" she asked quietly.
"We don't understand enough to fight," Rowan said. "One wrong move, and everyone here—" he paused. "—they'll be part of the roots."
Suddenly, the demon turned his head slightly in Rowan's direction.
Not fully.
But just enough.
Rowan's heart jumped.
He sensed me.
But the demon didn't say a word.
Just smiled.
Then looked back at the shrine.