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Chapter 8 –
Prologue
"Megan, if anything bad were to happen to me… what would you do to survive?"
Megan nodded her head, unsure of what exactly to say to Professor Banda.
"Megan," he continued, his tone deep and heavy, "keep these words close to your heart. War has no true victor. There are no heroes, no winners, no losers—because both sides lose something irreplaceable."
He looked at her with calm, sorrowful eyes.
"Human life."
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Rising Stakes
Morning dawned over the quiet neighborhood of Olympia Town in Lusaka City.
The air was calm, filled with the soft songs of birds, the chirping of crickets, and the distant hum of motors from faraway roads.
"MEGAN! HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE FOR YOU TO SERIOUSLY GET DRESSED?!" Mr. Banda barked, his voice echoing through the hallway.
"I'm almost ready!" came Megan's voice from behind her door.
"What exactly are you doing back there?!"
"Combing my hair!"
"MEGAN!"
"Hold on, Papa! I'm almost ready!"
"You've been saying that for the last HOUR!" he yelled, his face turning red with frustration.
"I'm almost done!"
"How am I supposed to believe—"
"Papa…" Megan whined like a child.
"MEGAN!!!" His voice boomed so loud, it echoed through the entire neighborhood.
---
Later, in the car…
"I hope you made sure everything I prepared for you is packed—your books, pens, pencils, even your artificial brain," Mr. Banda said, adjusting his keys before starting the engine.
"I did," Megan replied, calmly fixing her hair in the mirror.
Mr. Banda took note of her poise and smile. "She actually combed it right this time… on her own. Impressive." He smirked. "With such care, I don't know if this feeling in my chest is fatherly pride or something else. Either way… I couldn't be prouder."
"Papa," Megan said, imitating his grin.
"She's copying my smile!!! MEGAN!!!"
---
As they drove through Olympia, silence filled the air. The only sound was the steady hum of the car's engine as Mr. Banda drove with graceful precision—like the movement itself was art.
Megan watched the world outside her window: trees passing by, birds fluttering, the wheels spinning in rhythm with her thoughts.
KKK-shhhh! — the radio suddenly came to life.
"Hm? What's this about?" Mr. Banda asked, glancing at the radio.
[Radio Transmission]
"Border tensions rise as battles between Zambian troops and Twazwe forces intensify. Reports indicate Zambia has lost 200 soldiers, with Twazwe's losses estimated at 301—"
"Cut, cut, CUT!" Mr. Banda turned it off. "That sounded like nonsense to my ears anyway," he muttered. "Rather than fixing poverty or advancing technology, we're wasting resources making high-tech toys of destruction."
His sarcasm made Megan giggle quietly.
"But Papa," she asked softly, "didn't you say you once helped in the production of weapons of war?"
"Megan, shut up—we're running late," he said, flustered.
"Can't believe I ever told her that… was I drunk or something?" he mumbled.
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Meanwhile – Lusaka–Twazwe Border
BOOM!!! BOOM!!! BOOM!!!
Missiles ravaged the battlefield.
"SHIELDS!" the Zambian forces shouted, their bionic tattoos glowing as they deflected the oncoming barrage. The air trembled under the chaos.
"WHERE THE HELL IS MUTALE?!" yelled one soldier, brandishing a giant sonic blade.
"NOT SURE, BUT I SAW HIM FLY A MILE AWAY!"
"NO TIME FOR JOKES!"
"I'M NOT JOKING!"
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Meanwhile – Mutale
"War, it's…"
FYOOM! BOOM!
A powerful blast tore through the air.
"...draining!" Mutale grunted, dodging in the blink of an eye. He countered with a high-speed kick—BYOOM!—sending a soldier flying.
"Mutale!!!" one soldier shouted in relief.
"Focus!" another yelled.
Mutale slashed through enemies in perfect rhythm, his thread weaving a deadly dance. Each strike was sharp, calculated, and precise. But his gaze stayed locked on one man—the Commander General.
"The only way I can win… is by taking him down."
The commander's tall, armored frame loomed over the battlefield, his expression unwavering.
"That bloody smirk," Mutale muttered. He dashed forward, launching a blazing kick—BAM!—but the commander didn't even flinch.
"What the hell is this guy made of?!"
"In all my years of training," the commander boomed, his deep voice echoing like thunder, "I CHOSE TO REJECT PAIN. AND I PROMISED… TO STRIKE BACK TENFOLD!"
He swung—a monstrous punch. Mutale barely dodged, but the shockwave alone sent him tumbling.
"Crap—" he gasped.
"I VOWED TO SHOW NO MERCY TO MY ENEMIES!" the commander roared, grabbing Mutale by the leg and slamming him into the ground repeatedly.
"C-crap—I can't… breathe…" Mutale wheezed, each impact rattling his body.
His vision blurred—memories flashing: a young Mutale, standing before a cheering crowd of kids.
Then—BOOM!
The commander's face exploded in smoke.
"Get him!" two soldiers rushed in—Makhaza and Khumalo.
.
Makhaza with deep brown skin , sharp eye's and edge's with braids .
Khumalo who had a more friendly soft appearance, bawld head , brown tone and gentle eyes ..both bearing an athletic physique.
"Mutale, are you okay?"
"I had it covered," he coughed, blood spilling from his mouth.
"Yeah, right," Makhaza scoffed.
"We were sent as backup," Khumalo added. "Judging by your condition, the General was right to send us."
Mutale smirked weakly. "I don't need help from those I'm supposed to protect… I'm the star of the show."
"Right now, you need to stay alive," Khumalo said. "Makhaza, now!"
Makhaza raised his hand, creating a portal that swallowed them into light.
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Back in Lusaka City
Mr. Banda and Megan arrived at the school. Despite its modest size, it buzzed with life—students laughing, teachers walking briskly, technology blending seamlessly with nature and traditional design.
"Despite being small, it's certainly packed," Mr. Banda said with a nervous smile.
Megan noticed. "You'll be fine, Papa," she said, touching his hand gently.
Whispers followed as they walked.
"Look at that guy—he's a giant!"
"Why's his hair black and white?"
Mr. Banda's jaw dropped. "IT'S OLD AGE!!! CAN'T YOU SEE I'M GROWING UP?!"
"Papa!" Megan hissed. "You said causing a scene was immature!"
"A 6'5 professor being lectured by his tiny daughter… that's new," a smooth voice said.
Mailo stepped into view, confident and composed. The crowd murmured.
"Isn't that the principal?"
"He's so cool!"
"Why's he walking toward Mr Skyscraper there ?"
Megan's inner circuits buzzed. ("My circuits… he's glowing.")
.
" Megan " Gasped Mr Banda
"Welcome, Miss Megan," Mailo said with a kind smile. "I hope our campus feels comfortable for you."
Mr. Banda glared. "I DON'T WANT MY DAUGHTER HAVING ANOTHER SHORT CIRCUIT, YOU PRETTY-FACED NERD!" He bonked Mailo's head hard.
The students gasped.
"Papa! Everyone's watching!" Megan whispered, embarrassed, clutching his hand.
Mailo staggered up, rubbing his head. "That hit sent me straight to the to the 4th dimension…"
He laughed. "Still haven't changed since our UNZA days, huh?"( UNZA: university of Zambia)
Mr. Banda tried to hide his grin, but it broke through.
"Hahaha—shut up!"
"Why's Papa making that face?" Megan thought. "Is something growing inside him?"
( She said looking back a Tv show she watched earlier about a boy loosing control because of his fox spirit)
Then Mailo laughed out loud—"HAHAHAHA!"—prompting Banda to join him.
"Some things never change," Mailo said.
"Some things never get old," Banda replied.
Megan watched silently, a small smile on her face.
"Why does Papa look… lighter when he's with him?"
A breeze swept through the air, brushing her hair as silence followed their laughter.
---
Meanwhile – Lusaka Central District
The streets overflowed with life. People hurried through markets, restocking in bulk. Business was booming.
But deep within an abandoned alley, footsteps echoed.
Mwansa walked alone, hooded and calm.
"This place… it's been abandoned for years," he whispered.
He paused, scanning his surroundings. A faint memory flashed—him and his little sister begging for food on these same streets.
"It all started here," he said softly. "But things are different now."
He blew a whistle. The sound echoed through the silence.
"Mwansa!!!" two young girls cried, jumping from a window using rusted jet boots.
They ran to him, hugging him tightly. One had dark brown skin and big expressive eyes; the other was lighter-skinned with sharp features and braided hair.
"Did you bring us food? We're starving!"
"Oh, food?" Mwansa smiled. "You don't have to worry—big bro's got you covered."
"Where's the food though?" one asked.
"You're lying," said the other.
"Boza,"( lies ) they teased in unison.
"Ghost," Mwansa said, touching his lip.
From the shadows, Ghost emerged—a tall, broad-shouldered man in a hoodie and jeans.
"Here," Ghost said, handing them a plastic bag of snacks from ShopLete.
"Seriously, Ghost? I said food, not snacks!" Mwansa sighed.
"They're kids," Ghost replied calmly. "Besides, they'll have plenty more once we're back at base."
Mwansa nodded. "Right…"
"You plan on taking them to the base, don't you?" Ghost asked.
Mwansa stayed silent.
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Meanwhile – Back at School
Megan stood nervously before her new class.
"Go ahead, Megan," Mr. Mailo said warmly. "Introduce yourself."
All eyes were on her.
She took a deep breath…
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To be continued...
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