Lanre's House / Yantodo Hills
Lanre's house sat somewhere far away beneath a massive crimson eye in the sky.
His daughter laughed.
Running.
-------------
Chukwu couldn't even turn his head to see it properly.
Every joint screamed.
Every breath scraped.
Existing had become a negotiation his body was losing.
IFA's voice carried from somewhere above.
Calm.
Measured.
"Still… early has its benefits."
A pause.
"The gods are flustered."
Chukwu blinked slowly through blood and dust.
Flustered gods.
Wonderful.
He couldn't even sit up.
The cavern ceiling pulsed.
Light from the Array crawled across stone in slow, deliberate patterns.
Symbols stretched. Twisted. Watched.
"They'll search," IFA continued.
"Probably using Midas."
Chukwu's jaw tightened.
Midas?
So something worse than this was coming.
Around the Array—
The dancers.
Cardinal positions.
Bodies forced into rhythm.
Legs torn open.
They kept moving.
No blood.
No stopping.
Only sound.
Screams that didn't echo.
They lingered.
"Things will soon get…"
IFA paused.
"We need more preparation."
We.
Chukwu didn't bother asking.
He could feel it already.
Something tightening.
Like the world had shifted one inch in the wrong direction and refused to shift back.
Lanre lay on the ground.
Still.
Wrong.
His hair was darker now.
Thinner locks falling across his face.
Above him—
A dull purple halo flickered.
Weak.
Like it wasn't convinced this was worth illuminating.
Chukwu stared.
Because something in his chest already knew—
That wasn't Lanre anymore.
The eyes opened.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Purple.
"What a noisy vessel," the voice said.
Not Lanre's voice.
Not even trying to be.
Lanre's hand lifted.
Reaching upward.
Pale fingers.
Metal rings.
And the gold band.
Still there.
Still pretending something human was left.
Chukwu tried to make sense of it.
Failed.
IFA knelt nearby.
Rattling his shekere.
Endlessly.
The beads clicked like bones learning a rhythm.
"Eni ba pe ori mi nibi…"
His voice rose. Fell. Twisted.
"…offering hearts aligned with your will…"
Chukwu sank further into the dirt.
Half-dead.
Next to him, IFA was alive in a way that felt offensive.
Too much energy.
Too much devotion.
"…never doubting…"
The shekere shook harder.
"KAOS!"
The name settled badly in the air.
Chukwu felt it.
Like pressure behind his eyes.
His voice…
Is he in my head?
"Boy."
The word cut clean through everything.
Sharp.
Close.
Too close.
"The whistle."
Chukwu's breath hitched.
His hand twitched weakly toward his chest.
The metal whistle rested there.
Warm.
Faintly glowing.
He stared at it.
Then at Lanre.
No—
Not Lanre.
It isn't him.
The shadow came next.
Slow.
Heavy.
Wrong.
It spread over Lanre's body, swallowing the weak light from the halo without effort.
Not blocking it.
Ignoring it.
Lanre's arm remained stretched upward.
Frozen between reaching… and something else.
His face—
Still.
But not empty.
One eye white.
The other—
Burning purple.
Watching.
"Use it now…"
Kaos again.
Closer.
Quieter.
Like it had settled somewhere behind Chukwu's thoughts.
"…before we all die."
Chukwu's stomach twisted.
The whistle pulsed faintly in his grip.
Same voice, with a different tone.
His fingers trembled.
His body refused to choose.
Refused to move.
The cavern didn't help.
The Array pulsed.
The dancers moved.
IFA whispered.
The shadow watched.
Everything waited.
Including him.
And Chukwu understood one small, useless thing—
Whatever decision he made…
Something was already too far gone to stop.