Obasi trailed behind Zino down the hallway, his sneakers squeaking on the polished tiles like they were protesting the whole situation. The school felt different now—quieter, almost like it was holding its breath after that rune class explosion. He glanced at his hand again, flexing his fingers. Still no mark, but that tingle lingered, like static from rubbing your feet on carpet too hard. Born this way, huh? Yeah, right. If only he knew what "this way" even meant.
Zino walked ahead, her red braids swaying with each step, her posture all stiff and annoyed. She hadn't said much since dragging him out of class, just a few mutters under her breath about "show-offs" and "ruining everything." Obasi couldn't help but grin a little. She was pissed, sure, but there was something else there—like she was impressed but didn't want to admit it. Or maybe he was just imagining things. Girls were complicated, especially ones who could wrap monsters in void nets like it was nothing.
They reached the principal's office—or what Obasi assumed was the principal's office. The door was heavy wood, etched with faint runes that glowed when you got close, like they were scanning you for threats. Ms. Adesina was already inside, talking in low tones to a guy who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. Obasi recognized him vaguely from somewhere, but couldn't place it. Tall, slick black coat with glowing sigils, sword strapped to his back. N.R.A. vibes all over.
"Captain Ilori," Ms. Adesina said, waving them in. "These are the students. Obasi Light and Zino... well, Zino."
Ilori turned, his eyes widening like he'd seen a ghost. Or maybe a Calamity. "Light? As in Zuberi Light?"
Obasi shrugged, leaning against the doorframe casually. "Yeah, that's my dad. Why, you a fan?"
Ilori's face went through a whole journey—shock, awe, then something like fear. He rubbed his temples, muttering, "Of course. The kid of the Gentle Calamity. This day just keeps getting better." He straightened up, trying to look official. "Sit down, both of you. We've got questions."
Zino plopped into a chair, crossing her arms. "Questions about what? I did the seal perfectly. It was this clown who turned it into a fireworks show."
Obasi sat next to her, stretching his legs out. "Hey, the monster's gone, isn't it? Mission accomplished."
Ilori paced a bit, his coat swishing dramatically. Obasi had to bite back a laugh—it was like the guy was auditioning for a superhero movie. "Look, kids. That wasn't normal. No rune, no training, and you just... blew it up. Ms. Adesina's report says it felt like Calamity-level essence. And you—" he pointed at Zino, "—your dual runes? Light and void? That's rare. Too rare. Rings any bells with the old prophecies?"
Zino's eyes narrowed, but she kept her cool. "Prophecies? Like what, the Riven Child stuff? That's just old stories to scare kids."
Obasi snorted. "Yeah, man. I'm no eclipse baby. I can't even get my hair to stay down in the rain."
Ilori stopped pacing, leaning on the desk. "Humor me. The Riven Child Prophecy talks about a kid born under a rift eclipse, dual runes of light and void, destined to save or doom the world. Sound familiar?" He eyed Zino, then Obasi. "But you, Light... that power surge. No mark, but it felt like everything at once. Like you got the whole codex crammed into one soul."
Obasi felt a chill, but played it off with a laugh. "Bro, you're reaching. I just slapped the seal too hard. Maybe I need anger management."
Zino shot him a side-eye. "Or coordination lessons. You trip more than a baby goat in Lagos traffic."
Ilori chuckled despite himself, but then his comm device beeped. He glanced at it, face paling. "Great. Just great. Onyema's on the line. He wants a full report." He tapped the device, and a holographic screen flickered to life, showing Onyema's grizzled face, salt-and-pepper beard looking extra stern today.
"Captain," Onyema growled. "What's the situation? That surge registered all the way to HQ."
Ilori straightened like a soldier. "Sir, it's Zuberi's kid. Obasi Light. No visible rune, but he overloaded a D-Rank seal. Blew the sim to bits. And the girl, Zino—she's got dual light and void. Top student here."
Onyema's eyes sharpened. "Dual? Eclipse timing?"
Zino leaned forward, interrupting. "Hey, old man. I'm right here. And yeah, maybe. But I'm no savior. I just want to pass my exams and eat proper jollof without drama."
Obasi burst out laughing. "See? She's got priorities."
Onyema's hologram flickered, his expression softening a tad. "Kid, if you're anything like your father, drama finds you. Keep an eye on them, Ilori. The file from years back... it might be connected. Zuberi and Zikora's mission—"
Before he could finish, the ground trembled. Not like an earthquake, but like something ripping open. Alarms blared through the school speakers, and Ilori's face went from annoyed to full panic mode.
"Rift!" he shouted, drawing his sword. The blade hummed with rune energy. "E-Rank, but escalating fast. Cafeteria sector."
Obasi jumped up, adrenaline kicking in. "Cafeteria? Man, not the jollof!"
Zino was already at the door. "Come on, Justice. Time to see if you're all talk."
They bolted down the hall, Ilori leading the way, Ms. Adesina yelling something about evacuation protocols. Students poured out of classrooms, screaming and shoving like it was Black Friday at the market. Obasi dodged a kid who looked like he was about to faint, his mind racing. Rift? Here? What were the odds?
The cafeteria was chaos central. Tables overturned, mystery meat splattered everywhere, and in the middle—a swirling tear in reality, spitting out slimy, tentacled creatures that looked like oversized octopuses crossed with shadows. Void-touched blobs, Obasi guessed, from the codex stuff he'd skimmed in homeschool. They lashed out, grabbing kids and flinging trays like weapons.
Ilori charged in, sword slashing. "Form a perimeter! Seal it before it hits D-Rank!"
Zino didn't wait. She dashed forward, her sleeves rolling up to reveal her runes—glowing white for light on one arm, inky black for void on the other. "On it!" She slammed her hands together, weaving essence like a pro. A barrier of light snapped up, containing the rift's edge, while void tendrils sucked in one of the blobs, dissolving it into nothing.
The students watching gasped. "Zino's badass!" someone yelled.
But then a bigger blob lunged at her, tentacles whipping. Zino dodged, but it clipped her shoulder, sending her stumbling.
Obasi's turn. Without thinking, he grabbed a cafeteria tray—metal, dented from years of abuse—and hurled it like a frisbee. It spun, edge glowing faintly with that weird tingle from his hand, and sliced clean through the blob's tentacle. The creature screeched, recoiling.
"Hah! Take that, calamari!" Obasi whooped, grabbing another tray. He felt the surge again, like his body was a battery overcharged. He charged in, smacking blobs left and right, each hit amplified by whatever was inside him. One blob tried to grab him; he punched it square in what he assumed was its face, and it exploded in a shower of goop that smelled like rotten fish.
The crowd cheered louder now. "Obasi! Obasi's owning them!"
Zino, back on her feet, shot him a glare while sealing another section of the rift. "Show-off! I had that!"
Obasi grinned, dodging a tentacle. "Yeah, but I'm faster. Admit it, Red Braids—you need me."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide a smirk. "Need you like I need more homework."
Ilori was in the thick of it, his sword carving through blobs like butter. "Kids, focus! The rift's core—seal it or it'll spawn more!"
Tunde, of all people, stumbled into the cafeteria then, looking like he'd been hiding in a closet. "I got this!" he bragged, his Earth Rune flaring. He stomped, summoning stone spikes—but they fizzled, too weak against the void essence. A blob smacked him across the room, right into a pile of spilled rice.
Obasi laughed so hard he almost got tentacled. "Tunde, my guy! That's what you get for fake Gucci and fake skills!"
Zino finished her barrier, the light rune purifying the air while void sucked the rift smaller. But the core—a pulsing black orb—shot out a final blob, bigger than the rest, heading straight for a group of scared freshmen.
Obasi moved without thinking. He leaped, grabbing a chair mid-air, and swung it like a baseball bat. The chair connected with a crack, infused with his surge, and the blob burst like a water balloon filled with ink. Goop everywhere, but the kids were safe.
The cafeteria erupted in cheers. "Obasi saved us!" "He's the hero!"
Zino sealed the core with a final void pulse, the rift snapping shut. She stood there, breathing heavy, runes fading. But the crowd swarmed Obasi, slapping his back, taking selfies.
Ilori sheathed his sword, shaking his head. "Kid, that was reckless. But... impressive. Onyema's gonna want you tested."
Zino pushed through the crowd, grabbing Obasi's arm. "Hey, glory hog. You okay?"
He wiped goop from his face, grinning. "Never better. But seriously, Zino—you did the heavy lifting. That seal was pro."
She blushed a little—wait, did she?—then punched his shoulder. "Don't get soft on me. Next time, let me finish before you play hero."
Obasi laughed, but inside, that tingle grew stronger. As the crowd dispersed, Ilori pulled them aside. "Listen. That rift wasn't random. Something's stirring. The prophecy... it might be real. And you two? You're in the middle of it."
Zino crossed her arms. "Great. Just what I needed. More drama."
Obasi nodded, but his mind wandered to his parents. Where were they? And why did this feel like the start of something bigger than school rifts and face-slaps?
The day dragged on after that. Cleanup crews from the N.R.A. swarmed the school, sealing off the cafeteria with rune barriers and muttering about "anomalies." Obasi and Zino got pulled into more questioning—Ilori grilling them on every detail, Onyema's hologram popping in with gruff advice like "Don't die, kids" before flickering out.
By the time they were released, the sun was dipping low, painting the sky orange like spilled Fanta. Obasi walked Zino to the gate, the bike his teacher usually rode nowhere in sight. "You good?" he asked, kicking a pebble.
She shrugged, leaning against the wall. "Yeah. Just... tired. That void rune takes it out of me. But you? Punching blobs with a chair? That's next-level stupid."
He chuckled. "Stupid works. Saved your butt back there."
"My butt was fine," she shot back, but her tone was lighter. "Thanks, though. For real."
They stood there a moment, awkward silence broken by the distant hum of Lagos traffic. Obasi scratched his head. "Hey, Zino... about that prophecy. You think it's you? Dual runes and all?"
She looked away, braids hiding her face. "Maybe. But I don't want it. Saving the world sounds exhausting. I'd rather just... be normal."
Obasi nodded. "Normal's overrated. But yeah, I get it. Me? I'm just winging it."
She smiled then—a real one, not her usual smirk. "You're not bad at winging it, Justice."
His heart did a little flip, but he played it cool. "High praise from the top student."
As she walked off, waving over her shoulder, Obasi's phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number: *Keep her safe, kid. The real storm's coming. - O*
Onyema? Obasi pocketed the phone, glancing at his hand. The tingle was gone, but the questions weren't. What was he, really? And why did it feel like the world was about to slap him right back?
Little did he know, across the city, in a shadowed N.R.A. lab, analysts pored over rift data. "The surge matches the file," one said. "Zuberi's kid... he's not the Riven Child. But he's something worse. Something... perfect."
The screen flickered with Obasi's image, punching that blob. And in the background, Zino's runes glowed, unnoticed by most—but not by fate.