POV: Amina
We won.
So why can't I sleep?
It's been 9 days since the Battle of the Crossroads.
The Tome is celebrating. Music. Food. Fireworks that Kwesi "borrowed" from Pandora's dynamics
Kids are playing with broken pieces of Masked King ships.
Crimson Sky set up a market. "Victory tea. 2 spirit stones."
But at night, the stars are wrong.
*THE WHISPER*
It started 3 nights ago.
Soft. Like someone talking through water.
`...twelve...`
`...open...`
`...come home...`
I thought it was a dream.
Then Nala heard it.
Then Juma.
Then all of us.
It's coming from the Spear.
The Spear of Ascendant sits in the middle of the war room.
Glowing faintly.
And every night at 3:17am, it whispers.
Sango Jr won't let anyone touch it.
"It's full of them," he said. "The Court. The King. Their voices."
"Then destroy it," Tsehay said.
"We can't," Kunle said. "It's made of us. If we break it, we break."
i am getting tired of this countless supernatural incident,i know the world is chaotic but can we get a break
Day 4 after the battle.
Juma hasn't slept.
His eyes are white all the time now.he had been trying to unravel the full mystery of this incidents
"I see it," he said. "In the threads.
Something is pulling. From the other side of the closed Gate."
"There is no other side," Zainab said.
"There is," Juma said. "And it's angry."
Old Taju was carving again. Faster this time.
"The King was just a door," he said. "You killed the doorman.
Now the house is noticing."
"Who's in the house?" I asked.
Old Taju didn't answer.
Night 6.
One of the casual workers went missing
Name: Musa. Good kid. 19.
We found his post. Empty.
And on the wall: writing.
In black. Like ink. Like blood.
`YOU TOOK 12`
`WE WANT 12 BACK`
And under it: a mask. Drawn. With 12 eyes.
"Copycat," Kwesi said. But he was pale.
"It's not a copy," Sango Jr said. "It's a receipt."
Night 7.
The ocean moved.
Nala woke up screaming.
"The water is remembering things," she said. "Things that aren't ours."
She took us to the coast.
100km of shoreline.
And on the sand footprints.
Thousands of them.
Leading out of the water.
And stopping.
Like whoever made them just... stopped existing.
Fatima touched one. "This isn't human. This isn't anything."
"Then what is it?" Dele asked.
"A scout," Old Taju said.
Tonight.
3:17am.
The Spear whispered louder.
`TWELVE FOR TWELVE`
`OPEN THE DOOR`
`OR WE TAKE THEM`
And the lights went out.
Not in the Tome. In the sky.
3 stars. Gone.
Right above us.
And in their place: cracks.
Small ones.
Like hairline fractures in glass.
The Gate was closed.
But something was scratching at it.
We were all in the war room in 2 minutes.
"No one sleeps alone," Sango Jr said. "From now on. Pairs."
"Too late," Juma said. He was pointing at the map.
The cracks.
They were moving.
Spreading.
From the Atlantic. To the Sahara. To Asia.
"The Court is dead," he said. "But the Throne isn't.
And the Throne wants its tribute."
"12 for 12," I whispered. "They want 12 of us."
Silence.
Then Kunle stood. Picked up the Spear.
"Then they don't get us.
They get this."
He slammed the Spear into the table.
It screamed.
And for 1 second, we saw it.
The other side.
Not black. Not space.
A city. Made of masks.
And in the center: a throne.
Empty.
And around it: 12 shadows.
Waiting.
One of them turned.
Looked right at us.
And smiled.
The vision cut.
"We go to them," Sango Jr said.
"Absolutely not," Amina said. "We just closed the Gate."
"And they're opening it anyway," Sango Jr said. "Slowly.
If we don't go to them, they'll come to us.
And they'll take 12. From the city. From the world."
He looked at each of us.
"I'm not letting that happen."
Old Taju stood. "Then we go.
But not through the Gate.
Through the road."
He held up his stick.
"The crossroads go both ways, kids.
You want to fight the Throne?
We go to the Throne."
Kwesi raised his hand. "Question. Do they have snacks?"
"No," Old Taju said.
"Damn," Kwesi said. "Still in."
THE NIGHT BEFORE
None of us slept.
Nala and Fatima sat by the ocean.
"It's quiet," Nala said. "Too quiet."
"The ocean is holding its breath," Fatima said.
Dele and I sparred. One last time.
"You ready?" he asked.
"No," I said. "But I'm going anyway."
Tsehay sharpened all 8 spears.
Ọmọ counted arrows. Twice.
Zainab burned the letter from the Masked King.
Chike made enough medicine for a war.
Juma watched threads. "They're all leading to the Throne now."
Sango Jr sat with the Spear.
"It wants us to come," he said. "I can feel it.
It's hungry."
Kunle put a hand on his shoulder. "Then we feed it."
Dawn.
Old Taju stood at the gate.
Stick. Mask.
And behind him: a road.
Not stars this time.
Bone.
A road made of bone, stretching into the dark.
"The Crossroads to the Throne," Old Taju said. "No going back once we step."
All 12 of us stepped forward.
Behind us: Earth.
Ahead of us: The Throne.
And the 12 shadows waiting.
The Spear pulsed.
The whispers stopped.
Because we were coming.
And the last thing I heard before we stepped on:
Juma whispering:
"They're not 12 anymore.
They're 13.