Zara and Amara approached the old clock tower, its face cracked, hands frozen at midnight. Echo leaned against the wall, smoking a cigarette, his eyes hidden behind shades.
"The Songbird sent us," Zara said, her voice firm.
Echo flicked his cigarette, sparks flying. "What do you want?"
Amara smiled, confident. "We want in. The Market's deals are getting bigger."
Echo snorted. "You don't know the price. The Market takes pieces of you."
Zara leaned in. "We can handle it. What's the deal?"
Echo's gaze lingered, then he nodded. "Alright. The Market wants Lagos' forgotten history – buried under Ikoyi's towers. Dig it up, and you'll get your wish."
He handed them a map. "Midnight. Come alone."
Amara turned to Zara. "Sounds like treasure."
Zara's gut said caution, but... "We'll do it."
Night fell. They reached Ikoyi, the towers looming.