Lagos Mainland – Night – 11:03 P.M.
The city didn't sleep anymore.
Sirens wailed across sectors. Protests erupted near ministry buildings. The National Assembly compound had been surrounded by armored drones. Downtown Lagos choked on both traffic and fear as civilians poured into the streets — phones in hand, voices raised.
The exposé had done what no government reform, no viral hashtag, no dead protester ever could.
It forced the truth into the light.
But truth came with a cost.
Tunde sat in the shadows of an abandoned clinic, his back against the wall, breathing heavily. The adrenaline was fading, and the weight of what he'd done was creeping in.
He wasn't just a ghost anymore.
He was a target.
....
NDLEC Internal Operations HQ – Emergency Council Room – 12:04 A.M.
The air was thick with fear.
Minister Kasim Bako stood at the end of the war room table, flanked by silent aides and glassy-eyed commanders. The floor-to-ceiling screens behind him showed data charts collapsing. Stock prices. Bio-syndicate transfers. Anonymous leaks flooding the dark web.
He turned to General Okon.
"Find the boy. Kill the leak. Burn the truth if you have to."
The general nodded slowly. "And the foreign donors?"
"Tell them to prepare their escape routes. This house is coming down."
A younger aide raised a trembling hand.
"But sir… what if we can't stop it?"
Kasim's face didn't move.
"Then we start a bigger fire. Something loud enough to make everyone forget."
....
Warri – Safehouse Compound – 1:17 A.M.
Arewa sat across from Alero, a dim tactical board between them. Dozens of dots blinked on the map — loyal cells, defecting agents, and citizens willing to rise.
"We've started a war," Arewa said.
"No," Alero corrected, sliding a marker across the board. "We revealed one."
Glyph entered, her holopad glowing with intercepted traffic.
"They're mobilizing," she said. "A mercenary hit team was dispatched to Port Harcourt. Another to Osogbo. And…"
She looked up.
"…a direct kill order for Tunde."
Arewa stood. "We split. He can't stay in one place."
"No," Alero said. "He needs to go dark. Fully. He can't be on the grid at all."
Glyph bit her lip. "There's one place left."
A pause.
"Ilaje Coast. The Delta Marsh."
....
On the Run – En Route to Ilaje – 3:45 A.M.
Tunde rested in the back of an old cargo skimmer, its body rattling as it glided over moonlit waters. The stars above were brighter than he remembered. He felt their cold light in his bones.
Beside him sat a small backpack: clothes, a comm blocker, the last of the clean IDs Arewa had forged. Everything else — gone.
He turned to Arewa, who sat at the wheel, silent.
"You ever think we'd get this far?" he asked.
He smirked. "I thought we'd both be dead by Chapter Ten."
He chuckled, then winced at the pain in his side.
Her expression softened.
"You'll disappear for a while," she said. "Lay low. Let the movement grow without you."
"You think it can?"
"It already has. They're chanting your name in Ajegunle."
Tunde looked away.
"I didn't want to be a symbol."
She shrugged. "Too late."
....
Ilaje Marsh – Secret Dock – Dawn
The skimmer slowed to a stop.
A lone fisherman waited, face hidden under a wide hat, his skiff tethered to the misty pier. Behind him, the marsh swallowed the sun in fog.
Arewa turned to Tunde.
"Three weeks. Then we'll send for you."
Tunde nodded. "Keep the fire burning."
Arewa leaned forward and hugged him.
"We'll build a new country from the ashes of this one."
He stepped off the skimmer.
And disappeared into the mist.
....
Lagos – SynGen Underground Bunker – 7:12 A.M.
Samira Bako stood in front of a metal door, hands clenched behind her back.
Behind the door, a new generation of experimental compounds was being synthesized. Neurotrace was done — but something far worse was rising in its place.
Her assistant approached.
"Ma, the networks have gone dark. The boy escaped."
Samira stared at the door.
"Let him."
Her eyes glittered cold.
"Next time, he won't even remember his name."