Evening came fast.
The abandoned building had swallowed the last traces of sunlight, leaving long shadows stretched across cracked walls and shattered tiles. David's steady breaths filled the space like a drumbeat. Sweat rolled down his neck as he pushed himself through another set of push-ups—slow, controlled, the way Umongo warriors trained to sharpen both endurance and intention.
Ben lay curled on a dusty mattress, soft snores escaping him, a half-eaten Gala clutched like a relic in one hand. His uniform was wrinkled, socks mismatched, but his face was calm for the first time all day.
David paused mid-push-up, listening to the quiet building. He liked the silence. Silence let him think. Silence made him dangerous.
And tonight, his mind was loud.
He pushed up to his feet, wiped his face, and scanned the room—mapping out sections, imagining potential threats, possible escape routes, and where Toya would definitely insist the "kitchen zone" should go.
A faint breeze drifted through the broken windows.
For the first time since leaving the Umongo mountains, David felt grounded.
Then footsteps echoed outside.
Light, cautious. Familiar.
David tensed.
The steps stopped outside the door.
"Na me," Toya's voice called softly.
David exhaled, shoulders relaxing. "Come in."
Toya stepped inside, still wearing his bar apron, smelling faintly of sweat, beer, and kitchen smoke. He paused at the entrance, eyebrows rising at the sight of the cleaned space.
"Jesus. You people really worked."
David nodded. "Ben supervised more than he worked."
Toya snorted. "Makes sense. That boy was born to give orders."
Toya walked deeper into the building, inspecting corners like he was shopping for an apartment.
"Hmm. This place fit make sense o. With light and small paint…"
David raised an eyebrow. "Light?"
Toya blinked. "Yes now. Electricity."
"There is no wiring."
"So we'll wire it!"
"Toya…"
"What? You think vigilante HQ no go need light? Abi you want to be doing night patrol and charging your phone with candle?"
David opened his mouth, then closed it. Toya burst out laughing.
"You have a long way to go, my guy."
He moved toward the mattress where Ben slept. The boy was drooling slightly.
"He really ran away."
David nodded.
"He said they want to kill him," Toya whispered.
"Yes."
"And he's acting normal."
"He thinks too fast to break easily," David murmured.
Toya studied him. "You sound like you admire him."
David shrugged. "He is… strange. But strong."
Toya grinned. "You soft for that boy already."
David didn't respond.
Toya sat on a cracked pillar, rubbing his eyes. "Bar shift was mad. Someone's girlfriend poured drink on her boyfriend's head because he smiled at another girl."
David made a small sound. "Nigeria is loud."
"You have no idea."
Silence settled again.
For a moment, they simply existed—two men in an empty shell of a building, holding a boy's secret, building something neither fully understood.
Then Toya leaned forward.
"David… that thing Ben said. About you being a hero. How you take am?"
David hesitated.
Umongo warriors did not fear war, nor destiny. But they respected truth.
"I don't know," David said finally. "I didn't come back to be anyone's symbol."
Toya nodded slowly, the way someone nods when they're preparing an argument.
"But you still want to help people."
"Yes."
"So you are a symbol—whether you like it or not."
David looked away. "I don't want people depending on me."
Toya smiled faintly. "Too late. We already do."
David's jaw tightened. He wasn't used to being needed. He was trained to protect, yes—but he was also trained to disappear when necessary. Strength was not for praise. Strength was for survival.
And yet…
Ben stirred, muttering something about "skull masks" in his sleep, and rolled over.
Toya laughed quietly. "That boy's spirit too strong. He dey see future like it's gossip."
David's eyes narrowed slightly. "His intuition is sharp. Very sharp."
Toya froze mid-laugh. "You dey think spiritual?"
David didn't reply.
Toya sighed. "Oh God. Don't tell me you think he's special."
David kept staring at Ben.
"I think he's lucky," he finally said. "And in my world… lucky people survive things they shouldn't."
A cold breeze passed between them.
Toya shivered. "Abeg, leave prophecy. Let's focus. We need plan."
He stood and dusted his trousers dramatically.
"Step one: Headquarters. This is now HQ. No argument."
David nodded. "Good."
"Step two: Costume."
David groaned. "Toya—"
"No no no. Let me talk." Toya began pacing again. "If you're going to do this vigilante thing officially, you need identity. Branding. Style. Don't argue. Na Lagos we dey."
David crossed his arms. "Style won't stop bullets."
"No, but it will scare criminals before the bullets come out."
"…fair point."
"Yes!" Toya pointed at him triumphantly. "I already called my guy. He go make the mask. Black and green skull, exactly as Ben said."
David blinked. "Already?"
"Yes."
"And where will you get money for that?"
Toya looked away. "I may or may not have begged discount."
"Toya—"
"IT'S BRANDING! You can't just wear your village hoodie and jump into dangerous people's territory!"
David sighed. "Fine."
"Good." Toya placed hands on his hips. "Step three: team. You, me, and Ben."
David stared. "He is sixteen."
"Sixteen-year-olds in Nigeria are basically grown men. The boy already ran from attempted murder. He's qualified."
David shook his head. "He needs safety."
Toya softened. "He'll get it. With us."
David looked at Ben again. There was something fragile about him—wrapped in bravado, humor, sarcasm, and reckless bravery. Beneath that, he was still a child running from people who should've protected him.
David nodded slowly. "We'll protect him."
Toya exhaled in relief. "Good."
He stretched, groaning. "Let's go home. I need sleep."
David shook his head. "I'll stay here tonight. Clean more. Clear windows."
"Alone?"
"I'm used to solitude."
Toya hesitated, then sighed. "Alright. I'll carry Ben."
He bent to lift the boy—but immediately froze.
"Wait…"
He sniffed.
David raised an eyebrow. "What?"
Toya sniffed again, louder. "Wait—WAIT—this smell—"
Ben rolled over, mumbling, "…don't open the fridge, Toya…"
Then—
A small fart slipped out.
Toya jumped back like he'd been slapped by a demon. "JESUS! This boy—this boy is possessed! David don't breathe!"
David laughed. Actually laughed—loud, unexpected, breaking the night open.
Toya stared at him in disbelief. "…you laughed??"
David wiped his face. "Your reaction—was unexpected."
"Of course it was unexpected! That thing was spiritual!"
Ben snorted awake, rubbing his eyes. "What happened?"
"Nothing," David said.
"Everything," Toya hissed.
Ben looked around, then sat up. "Are we sleeping here?"
"No," Toya said. "We are going home."
Ben stretched lazily. "David is staying."
Ben stood and walked toward David, leaning his head against the older boy's arm. It was surprisingly soft. "Night," he said simply.
David awkwardly patted his head. "Go."
Ben walked to Toya, took his hand, and Toya guided him out.
"Lock the door," Toya called.
"There is no door," David replied.
"Oh."
The night settled again.
David walked to the window, looked out at the quiet street, and inhaled deeply.
He felt something shift inside him.
Purpose.
Not given by the tribe. Not learned from training.
Chosen.
He turned back toward the center of the building.
This was no longer an abandoned structure.
This was where he would become something new.
Something unseen.
Something feared.
The shadow in Lagos that criminals whispered about.
The very thing Ben dreamed of.
David knelt, closed his eyes, and allowed the old Umongo meditation to fill him—breathing into strength, into intention, into purpose.
He saw flashes.
He saw Toya laughing behind a counter.
He saw Ben running through streets.
He saw mountains.
He saw fire.
He saw Lagos drowning in chaos.
And he saw himself standing between that chaos and the people who couldn't fight back.
When he opened his eyes…
He wasn't the same.
He whispered his vow into the empty air.
"I will protect them."
The building seemed to breathe with him.