The rain over Lagos came down like vengeance.
Sheets of water slammed against rusted rooftops and streaked through the neon signs that blinked half-alive above the street. It was a storm that swallowed sound, leaving only the hiss of rain and the muted growl of thunder rolling somewhere over the lagoon.
Felix tightened his jacket and broke into a jog. Another overtime day at the logistics firm had drained him; his stomach was empty, his phone battery nearly gone. Still, the idea of waiting under a bus stop felt like a trap. He wanted to be home, showered, asleep.
Water sloshed under his shoes. The street was deserted except for the rhythm of the rain. Lagos was never quiet — except when it rained like this. The city held its breath.
He turned into a side road where the lights were dimmer. That was when he saw him — a silhouette through the silver haze.
A man in a hood, walking straight toward him, one hand buried deep in his pocket.
Felix slowed. His instincts whispered. Don't draw attention. Keep moving.
He crossed to the other side of the road, pretending to check his phone, pretending he didn't notice.
The hooded man didn't change direction.
Felix's pulse quickened. Alright. Just keep going. He turned at the next junction, and—
Thud!
He collided with another body — solid, unyielding.
Felix: "Oh! Sorry, I didn't see—"
A blade flashed. Rainlight ran along its edge.
Robber: "I no get time for all this your grammar. Empty your pockets — now!"
Felix's mind blanked. He spun around — but the hooded figure from before was already behind him, blocking the way. Two of them. His breath hitched. "Please, I don't—"
The first man shoved him. The second slashed. Pain burst through his ribs, hot and white. Then again — and again. The world blurred; thunder drowned his scream.
He fell, the pavement cold and slick beneath him. The taste of blood filled his mouth. The rain kept falling, merciless, like it had a score to settle.
Is this it? he thought. Is this how it ends?
A lifetime of quiet labor, unfulfilled dreams, and forgotten prayers played through his mind in seconds. If I had power… real power… I'd change everything. I wouldn't die like this — powerless.
The rain faded. His heartbeat slowed. The world darkened — not like closing his eyes, but like being erased.
Then something inside him answered.
A hum. A vibration. A code.
---
He opened his eyes into nothingness.
Weightless, suspended in an ocean of light. The air shimmered with threads of data — numbers, patterns, golden glyphs that pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat.
> "Your plea has been heard."
The voice was vast — mechanical yet divine, ancient yet digital. Felix turned. A figure emerged, cloaked in radiant circuitry, face masked by cascading light.
Felix: "What… are you?"
> "I am the Custodian of Legacies."
"The algorithm that governs choice and consequence."
Its voice fractured into echoes, as if multiple beings spoke in perfect sync.
Felix: "Am I… dead?"
> "You are suspended between deletion and rebirth. Your final thought summoned me — a request for control, for power. Such desires are not erased. They are… processed."
A sphere of glowing script floated before him, spinning faster the more he stared at it.
> "You seek dominion over your fate. To earn it, you must accept a gift — and its burden."
Felix swallowed. "What kind of gift?"
> "Integration."
The sphere burst open. Waves of code streamed into him, searing every nerve with light.
> "You will awaken not as you were, but as a hybrid of flesh and system — a human consciousness fused with the intelligence of the network that binds worlds."
Felix gasped. "Why me?"
> "Because you asked."
The symbols grew brighter, the voice deeper.
> "But remember — power births purpose. Use it to rebuild, and you will rise among legacies. Abuse it, and the same code that empowers you will consume you."
He tried to speak, but his voice dissolved in the light.
> "Now rise, Felix. The world awaits your second birth."
The void cracked open — blinding white, then silence.
---
He awoke to the sound of beeping.
A ceiling of white light glared down at him. His body ached — but he was alive.
Machines hummed quietly around him. Electrodes clung to his skin. A digital monitor displayed his vitals — except the readings weren't… normal. They were shifting faster than any heart rate should, the graphs rewriting themselves like evolving code.
A nurse gasped from across the room. "He's awake! The one from the Lekki incident!"
Felix blinked. His last memory — the alley, the rain, the knives. Then this.
"How—" his voice cracked.
A doctor rushed in, eyes wide. "You were pronounced dead, Mr. Felix. No pulse for twenty minutes. And then… you came back. With readings we can't explain."
Felix sat up slowly. His reflection shimmered on the glass of a nearby screen — and for a second, data lines flickered across his eyes.
He gasped, grabbing his temples as information flooded in — every voice in the hospital, every heartbeat, every device connection. He could see it: signals, patterns, codes of existence weaving through walls and wires.
This can't be real.
But it was.
He looked at a flickering light bulb — and instantly, he knew the brand, voltage, and the exact moment its filament would fail. He turned toward the nurse — and data about her vitals and name flashed before his eyes like augmented reality.
The Custodian's voice echoed faintly in his head.
> "Integration complete."
Felix's hands trembled. "What have you turned me into?"
> "Evolution."
The hospital lights dimmed. Somewhere outside, the city roared — engines, sirens, thunder. Lagos pulsed with life, and in that rhythm, he could hear it all — the hidden hum of networks, the coded heartbeat of civilization.
He wasn't just human anymore. He was connected — to everything.
A fusion of man and machine. Consciousness and code.
Felix stared at his trembling hands, realization dawning.
The Battle of Legacies had already begun.
---
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