The wind across Lagos was heavy with shadow. The spiral above had grown wider, darker, stretching like a wound that would never heal. The whispers were louder now, curling into the ears of every living thing. They were not words, not yet, but feelings...dread, longing, hunger.
Taye stood on the roof of the chapel, staring at the scar in the sky. Nnena stood beside him, gun hanging loosely in her hand. Lira was already deep in thought, her eyes closed, murmuring words under her breath.
"We don't have much time," Taye said quietly. "Every moment we waste, the Shadow Lord grows stronger. The fragments won't last forever."
Nnena shivered. "How many are left?"
Lira opened her eyes slowly. "Seven. Seven fragments of the light scattered across the old city. Seven trials to find them. Seven battles to survive."
Taye's hand tightened on the pendant. "Then we start now."
They left the chapel before dawn, moving through tunnels that led deeper into the veins of Lagos. These passages were older than memory, carved in stone before the city had a name. The air smelled of earth and salt, and the walls pulsed faintly, as though alive.
Lira led the way, her voice a steady guide in the dark. "The first fragment lies beneath the Palace of Lost Kings. It was once a heart of power, but it fell centuries ago. Now it's a grave guarded by what he left behind."
Taye nodded. "And we have to take it before the Shadow Lord senses us."
Nnena glanced at him. "Do you even know where to start?"
"I do," he said. "But it won't be easy."
The tunnels opened into an ancient courtyard buried under layers of Lagos' growth. Moss covered broken statues, and cracked stone steps led toward a forgotten gate. Above them, the spiral still glowed faint red, a wound breathing shadow into the city.
The air grew colder as they descended into the palace ruins. The deeper they went, the heavier the silence became. No sound of dripping water. No echo of their steps. Only the low hum, like a heartbeat beneath the earth.
"This is the trial," Lira whispered. "The palace tests those who come for the light."
They moved slowly, each step careful. The walls were carved with symbols...stories of guardians long gone. Faces twisted in agony, eyes closed as though praying. Every mark felt like a warning.
At the end of the corridor, they reached a vast hall. The air here was thick, black as oil, and the stone floor was wet with shadow. At the center lay a pedestal, and on it… the first fragment of light.
It was not bright. Not like the pendant. It was small, a shard glowing faint gold, pulsing like a fragile heartbeat.
Taye stepped forward. "This is it."
Before he could take it, the air shifted. From the shadows, figures rose. Tall, malformed, with bodies that seemed carved from smoke and bone. The Shadowborn.
Nnena raised her gun. Lira began chanting softly. Taye held up the pendant. Light flared.
They attacked.
The fight was brutal. Bullets cut through shadow, but the creatures moved with unnatural speed. They came from every side, crawling out of walls, bursting from cracks. Lira's chanting grew louder, her voice breaking the silence of the chamber. The ground beneath them trembled with each strike.
Taye fought through them, the pendant's light burning brighter with each step. He reached the pedestal, but a Shadowborn grabbed his arm. Its touch was cold, pulling at him. Pain shot through his body.
"Keep fighting!" Nnena yelled.
With a burst of light, Taye broke free, seizing the fragment. The moment his fingers closed around it, the chamber shook violently. The shadows screamed, then dissolved into nothingness.
The fragment pulsed in his hand. "We have one," he said breathlessly. "Six more."
They returned to the surface as dawn broke. The red spiral still hung in the sky, wider, darker, pulling the city toward something unknown. Lagos groaned under the weight of shadow.
Nnena lit a cigarette. Her hands shook. "We're running headfirst into hell."
Taye looked at her, his voice quiet. "We are. But we have no choice. Every fragment we lose makes him stronger."
Lira approached him. "The fragments aren't just pieces of light. They're pieces of him too. He's tied to them. If we gather them, we bind him. But if we fail…" Her voice trailed off.
"We won't fail," Taye said firmly.
Nnena frowned. "Do you know that for sure?"
Taye didn't answer. He stared at the spiral above, his eyes glowing faint gold.
Over the next days, they moved fast. The city was changing. Shadows crawled over walls, spreading through neighborhoods. The people were restless, whispering of nightmares and voices that called them in their sleep.
Their search took them through forgotten tunnels, abandoned palaces, underground rivers, and rooftops where the wind smelled of ash and old war.
Every fragment brought danger. Every fragment was guarded by more than the Shadowborn....traps older than the city itself, illusions that turned their own fears against them.
In one trial, Nnena nearly lost herself in a mirror of shadow, where her deepest fear stood before her....her own death. Lira had to pull her back by force, chanting words that made the air scream.
In another, Taye faced a vision of himself, not as Eran, but as the Shadow Lord, ruling a world of ash. The vision whispered promises, temptations of power, of ending the war without more sacrifice. But he rejected it.
"Not like him," he whispered.
The fragments they gathered began to change him. His mark glowed brighter. His pendant pulsed with new light. But so did the spiral above grow larger.
It was as though the city itself knew what they were doing. As though Lagos was becoming alive with war.
By the time they had three fragments, the Shadow Lord's power was evident in the streets. Shadows moved in daylight. People vanished in alleys, their screams swallowed by silence. Buildings trembled without reason.
The city was not just a battlefield anymore. It was becoming part of the war.
One night, as they rested in the ruins of a cathedral, Lira spoke. "The fragments are not enough. We need more than light. We need the heart of the city itself."
"What does that mean?" Nnena asked.
"It means the last fragments are not scattered. They are buried deep in the soul of Lagos," Lira said. "And the soul is in the palace, in the forgotten throne room beneath the city."
Taye's eyes hardened. "Then that's where we go next."
Outside, the spiral pulsed louder, as if answering him. The city groaned again, and somewhere in the distance, a voice whispered his name.
> "Eran… come home."
Taye looked up. His voice was steady, though his chest was heavy. "Then we finish this."
Nnena and Lira exchanged looks. The war was not at its end. It had only begun.
And beneath Lagos, the shadows were waiting.