It's been two weeks since the funeral of Idris Husafi. I'd spent most of that time in my office, pouring over old files, shrine records, theories on portal of birth mechanics, anything that could offer clarity. I'd never paid much attention to the technical workings of the portals before. Just take up a contract, eliminate Fallen creatures, get paid, report the details to my Master, then repeat.
But now, with what Deji told me, I needed to understand them. Deeply.
And what I found was... concerning.
There were very few records of any Divine being able to create a shrine capable of opening a portal. And there were zero records of a human ever being caught building one.
What did that mean?
It meant all the shrines we'd encountered, shrines that birthed countless Fallen creatures just appeared. No culprits.
For years, the Divine families had chalked it up to unnatural phenomena. But what if it wasn't?
What if someone—or a group—was responsible for every one of them?
That possibility reframed everything. Including the Husafis' role at the Confluence.
Sure, they suffered the most from that mission, especially if we count Idris's death as a direct consequence. They gained nothing. But what if they weren't the ones who created the shrines? What if they'd partnered with someone who could?
Someone who betrayed them.
Because Idris's death didn't make sense. A single, precise kill by a mysterious Fallen, leaving everyone else alive to tell the story?
That wasn't random. That was intentional.
If the Husafi brothers thought they were in control… they weren't. Whatever deal they made had backfired. And if someone out there truly had the power to build shrines at will, and open portals whenever they pleased, then this conspiracy went far deeper than I imagined.
How long has this been happening? And who were the ones behind it, the real perpetrators?
The more I thought about it, the more my head throbbed. I sighed and reached for the next batch of data on my desk, until a knock pulled me out of the spiral.
"Come in," I said.
The door creaked open.
"Major Kosiso" I greeted, a bit surprised. "To what do I owe this unexpected honor?"
She stepped in and glanced around my chaos-filled office. Papers everywhere. Books half-open. Diagrams of shrine structures pinned to the wall.
If I'd known she was coming, I'd have at least stacked the damn scrolls.
"How long have you been studying, Obika?" she asked with a smirk. "You'll blow that head of yours if you keep this up."
Before I could answer, she was already tidying the place like it offended her senses. Typical Kosiso.
"Don't" I stood up as she bent to grab another sheet from the floor. I caught her wrist mid-motion.
"What do you think you're doing, Major?" I asked, softly.
She looked up, our faces now just a breath apart.
Her brown eyes met mine, calm, with just enough mischief to undo a man. Her hair was neatly woven, pulled all back, revealing the full glow of her dark skin, smooth, rich, and kissed by the dim light of my office. The scent of cocoa butter clung to her like a second skin, blessing my nostrils, pulling me further into the moment.
Her face so close, so composed, was sublime.
If it were possible, I would've swallowed that head of hers whole.
"Helping my man out," she whispered.
Her breath was warm against my lips. That tone, that look in her eyes.
"If you're feeling helpful," I murmured, "why not help me with something else?"
She didn't flinch.
"And what may that be?" she replied, lips barely apart from mine.
I closed the gap.
The kiss started soft… then deepened. She rose with me slowly as we backed into my desk, scattering half of my research in the process.
So much for keeping things organized.
Then again… maybe this was the only kind of distraction strong enough to pull me out of my own head.
Just as we shared that emotionally intense moment, Major Kosiso suddenly pulled back.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
She laughed softly, adjusting her clothes, then took a few more steps back.
"I didn't come here for this," she said with a half-smile.
She sighed, heavy, conflicted. As if the entire moment had taken a turn she didn't expect… or maybe one she had expected, but tried to resist. She couldn't stop smiling. Neither could I.
But I still wondered, why had she really come over?
"Master Kamdili wants to see you," she finally said.
"Me?" I raised a brow. "If Master wanted me, he wouldn't have sent you, Kosiso. Probably a Lesser Hand, maybe an Upper."
"I insisted," she replied quickly. "Told him I'd call you myself."
As if she knew what might happen between us… and needed the message as an excuse to cut it short.
She was always like this. Never fully committing, never staying too long. Always coming just close enough to get lost in the moment, then pulling away before it could mean something deeper.
I didn't mind.
Truth was, I was like that too.
"You could've told me that from the start," I said, straightening my clothes and beginning to tidy up the mess we'd made.
"My apologies," she said, smirking. "I just got distracted."
"Please, make sure to see him as soon as you can."
Just before she stepped out, she paused, then walked back toward me. From behind, she wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled me into a firm embrace.
She kissed my cheek, soft and slow, and whispered,
"I love you."
"I love you too," I replied without hesitation.
Then she left—quickly, like if she lingered one more second, she'd change her mind.
That was the only time I ever saw Major Kosiso out of character.
Behind closed doors, in rare moments like this, she was warm… vulnerable… everything she hid from the world. But outside those four walls? She was a Divine with steel in her veins, unshakable, unreadable, and focused beyond reason. The kind of woman you'd never guess had even smiled once in her life.
I loved her for that.
I found myself smiling alone as she disappeared through the door.