Ilaje Marshlands – 6:12 P.M.
The world here moved differently.
Not at the speed of Lagos traffic or the sharp edges of Abuja's politics. In Ilaje, time flowed like the tide — quietly, with secrets buried beneath mud, mangrove roots, and the creak of old wood.
Tunde sat beneath a raffia hut built on stilts, watching the orange sun slide behind veils of mist and brackish water. His clothes were plain. His face half-bearded. He looked like a fisherman's apprentice — not Nigeria's most wanted man.
A soft shuffle announced the approach of the old man who had taken him in.
"Dem say river get two kind people," the man said, dropping into the chair beside him. "Those who swim. And those who drown pretending they can."
Tunde offered a tired smile. "What about those who just want to float for a while?"
The old man chuckled. "Then they must listen when the water whispers."
....
Benin City – Glyph's Hideout – Same Time
Glyph moved with precision, eyes scanning three monitors at once. The data storm that followed their broadcast had finally begun to settle, but a more dangerous pattern was emerging beneath the noise — deepfake disinformation.
Videos of Tunde had been fabricated: one showed him shooting unarmed civilians, another posed him beside foreign arms smugglers.
"They're rewriting history in real-time," she muttered.
Ejiro looked up from his comm rig. "The Minister's people are flooding every channel. Deep IDs, AI voicing, bot farms on twenty networks."
"And the worst part?" Glyph added. "People want to believe the lie. It's easier than accepting the truth."
Alero entered the room, weapons slung across her back.
"Then we give them something even harder to ignore."
....
Lagos – SynGen Tower (Lower Archives) – Night
Samira Bako moved like smoke through the steel corridors, flanked by a small unit of masked guards. Her voice was sharp, but calm.
"The media war is phase one. Phase two is recursion."
Her assistant followed, typing furiously on a holo-pad.
"You mean… memory recursion?"
"Yes," she replied, stopping at a vault door. "We install fragmented trauma simulations, tailor-made nightmares. When the public sees rebels, they'll remember pain. Confusion. Rage."
The vault opened.
Rows of neural decks waited. A technician nodded.
"Ready for install."
Samira stepped forward.
"Upload the profile of Agent Tunde Bako."
The technician paused. "Ma, he's not even in the system."
"He will be."
....
Ilaje – Tunde's Hut – Midnight
He dreamt of flames.
Of Minister Bako's voice echoing in a burning room.
Of Glyph screaming through static. Of Alero bleeding on a concrete floor. Of Samira smiling through a glass wall, her eyes devoid of mercy.
He woke with a start.
Sweat-drenched. Shaking.
But something was off.
In the darkness, he sensed it — the presence of something… unnatural. Not a sound. Not a movement. A sensation, like static on the soul.
He reached for the knife under his pillow.
Outside, the water lapped gently against the stilts.
....
Ilaje Marsh – Hidden Dock – 3:08 A.M.
Two figures crept through the fog.
Not locals. Not fishermen.
One wore infrared goggles. The other held a portable scanner — its blue light blinking fast.
"Got him," the first whispered. "Isolated biometric ping."
"Orders?"
"Alive, if possible."
....
Tunde's Hut – 3:11 A.M.
The roof exploded inward with a crack of suppressed gunfire.
Tunde rolled, knife in hand, striking the first intruder in the throat. The second fired, missing him by inches. The edge of the knife caught the man's wrist; the weapon dropped into the water below.
Tunde didn't think. He moved like the soldier they had trained — no, shaped — him to be.
The fight was over in seconds. One man dead. The other floating unconscious in the tide.
But Tunde didn't relax.
He stared at the scanner one of them had dropped.
It pulsed with a name:
"SUBJECT BAKO, TUNDE — RECALL PROTOCOL IN EFFECT."
A tiny red light blinked beneath it.
Tracker.
His face hardened.
"They know where I am."
....
Benin City – Glyph's Hideout – Morning
Tunde's voice came through the encrypted channel, urgent and raw.
"They've upgraded the hunt. Neural tracking. Dream recursion. Samira's coming at the psyche now."
Alero, listening on a separate feed, cursed under her breath.
"She wants to break the symbol, not the man."
Arewa's voice cut in, calm but firm. "Then we take the fight back to the city. Tunde's return has to be visible, loud, unignorable."
Ejiro leaned in. "You're suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"
Arewa nodded.
"Phase Two. We don't just expose the rot. We dismantle the throne."