15 Hours Later
The sun hung low over Benin City, casting long shadows across the orphanage courtyard. Children's laughter drifted through the open windows—the high, careless sound of people who hadn't yet learned that the world was hungry.
Eloghosa sat on a concrete bench, one leg crossed over the other, his phone pressed to his ear. His pink aura was dormant, invisible, but something about him still seemed to glow. Like the sun had decided to sit down for a while.
"So," he said into the phone, "let me get this straight. David was David. Ivie killed the host. Jonathan got thrown through a wall. And Praise is missing an eyebrow?"
Ivie's voice came through the line, crisp and professional, but there was something underneath it. Something that sounded almost like reverence.
"She's not missing an eyebrow. It grew back."
"That's disappointing. I was going to draw a new one on her while she slept."
"Please don't."
"You're no fun."
Eloghosa leaned back, tilting his face toward the sky. The clouds were pink—not from his aura, just from the sunset. A happy accident.
"And David?"
A pause.
"He asked why we couldn't keep Kola alive," Ivie said.
Eloghosa's smile flickered. Just for a moment.
"Did he now."
"He said it felt heavy. Killing him."
"Yeah." Eloghosa's voice was quieter now. "That sounds like him."
"He's not like Benjamin."
"No one is like Benjamin."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know." Eloghosa sat up, stretching his arms above his head. "David feels things. Benjamin... doesn't. Not the same way. Not anymore."
"Do you think he will? Feel things, I mean. Eventually."
Eloghosa was silent for a moment.
"I hope not," he said finally. "The ones who stop feeling don't last. They just... exist. Until they don't."
He stood.
"I'll check in tomorrow. Tell Jonathan to ice his ribs. And tell Praise she looks beautiful even without the eyebrow."
"I'm not telling her that."
"Then tell her I said hi."
"That's worse."
"Everything I do is worse. That's my brand."
He hung up.
Beside him, a woman laughed.
She was beautiful—the kind of beautiful that made people stop mid-sentence and forget what they were saying. Her hair was darker than Eloghosa's, falling past her shoulders in loose waves. Her skin was the same warm brown, her eyes the same shape, her smile the same crooked tilt.
But where Eloghosa's face was open, playful, almost foolish, hers was sharp. Like she saw everything and judged most of it.
"A new recruit," she said. "And he's already questioning kills."
"He's questioning himself," Eloghosa corrected. "There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"With him? Yeah. I think so."
Eloghosa's sister—Ohi Esosa—stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing her ankles. She was wearing sandals and a simple dress, nothing that suggested she was related to one of the most powerful Vanguards in the Covenant.
"Benjamin didn't bat an eye," she said. "Not once. When he started, he just... accepted it. Being a weapon. Being a monster like you."
"Thats not really what I want for him . What I want is for the Covenant to be strong together but Benjamin is Benjamin."
"And David is David."
"Yeah." Eloghosa smiled. "Thank God."
Esosa snorted. "You're getting sentimental in your old age."
"I'm twenty-four."
"Ancient."
"You're twenty-six."
"I'm ageless."
They sat in silence for a moment, watching the sun sink lower. The children's laughter had faded—dinner time, probably. Or homework. Or whatever it was that children did when they weren't laughing.
"You coming home tonight?" Esosa asked.
"Maybe."
"Mom asked about you."
"Mom always asks about me."
"Because you never visit."
"I visit."
"You teleport in, eat her food, compliment her cooking, and leave before she can ask about your love life. That's not visiting. That's a tactical extraction."
Eloghosa laughed—a real laugh, warm and unguarded.
"Fine. I'll stay for dinner tomorrow."
"You promise?"
"On my honor as a Vanguard."
"You don't have honor."
"On my honor as your favorite brother."
"You're my only brother."
"Exactly. The competition is fierce."
Esosa threw her hands up. "Leave. Before I throw something at you."
Eloghosa stood, brushing off his pants. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
"Love you, Esosa."
"Love you too, idiot."
He walked toward the gate, his hands in his pockets, his pink doves nowhere to be seen.
Jacob
The rooftop was cold.
Jacob had been lying there for three hours, flat on his stomach, his purple-dark aura coiled tight around his body like a second skin. His chains—his Gift, his curse, his everything—were wrapped around his forearms, ready to extend, to strike, to bind.
Below him, the orphanage gate creaked open.
Eloghosa stepped out.
He looked... ordinary. Unremarkable. Just a tall man in casual clothes, walking down the street like he had nowhere to be and all day to get there.
Jacob waited until Eloghosa was clear of the building. Clear of the children. Clear of collateral damage.
Then he struck.
The chains shot from his hands—not at Eloghosa, but around him, a cage of dark metal that should have been impossible to escape.
Eloghosa wasn't there.
The chains closed on empty air.
"Did you get him?"
Jacob spun.
Eloghosa stood behind him, hands still in his pockets, head tilted, a grin spreading across his face.
"You know," Eloghosa said, "kids live there, right?"
Jacob's heart hammered. His chains retracted, coiled, prepared to strike again.
"Orphanage," Eloghosa continued, nodding toward the building below. "About forty of them. Ages four to seventeen. Some of them have never had a home before. Some of them have been there for years. All of them are asleep right now, dreaming about things that aren't monsters."
His grin faded.
"You almost woke them up."
Jacob's purple aura flared. "You must be Ohi."
"Oh, you're a sorcerer." Eloghosa's eyebrows rose. "You know I never really understood why you sorcerers would use your faith for selfish reasons. When you can help alot of people."
"Cut the Bullshit and just surrender," Jacob said, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. "I don't plan on making a scene here."
Eloghosa stared at him.
Then he laughed.
"Wait," he said, "like, seriously? You came to kidnap me?"
He placed a hand on his chest, mock-offended.
"I'm so flattered, you know."
Jacob's jaw tightened. His chains shot forward—not a cage this time, but a spear, aimed at Eloghosa's chest.
Eloghosa side-stepped. Easily. Like he was avoiding a puddle.
And then he was close.
Breath-close. Eye-to-eye close. His hand was already moving, his fist already connecting—not with force, but with precision. The punch landed on Jacob's solar plexus, folded him in half, and launched him off the rooftop.
He crashed through the window of the building across the street—the second floor, an abandoned office, desks and chairs and shattered glass everywhere.
Before he could move, the white dome of a concealing barrier sealed the building.
Jacob looked up and says in surprise " He didn't even chant to open this barrier….".
Eloghosa was standing in the doorway, brushing dust off his shoulder.
"Sorry about the mess," he said. "I'll fix it before I leave."
The fight was not a fight.
Jacob threw everything he had—chains that covered every angle, every possible dodge, every inch of space. The air became a web of dark metal, a net of impossible complexity.
Eloghosa moved through it like water.
He didn't block. Didn't parry. He just... wasn't there when the chains arrived. A step here. A tilt there. A casual lean that made a chain whistle past his ear.
"You're good," Eloghosa said, dodging another strike. "Really. Your coverage is impressive. If I were anyone else, I'd be paste."
"Shut up retard!"
Jacob lunged.
Eloghosa closed the distance—slap—his open palm caught Jacob across the face, more insult than injury. Then a tornado kick, his leg sweeping in a wide arc, and mid-kick he flipped Jacob over, sending him flying into the far wall.
Jacob hit concrete. Hard.
His vision blurred. His ribs screamed. His chains retracted, useless.
When he looked up, Eloghosa was standing over him.
"Get up," Eloghosa said, smiling. "Come on. Don't give up yet. I believe in you. I'll even give you a free shot."
Jacob laughed—a wet, broken sound.
"You're a fool," he spat.
His aura exploded.
Purple-dark chains erupted from his body—not from his hands, not from his arms, but from everywhere. His chest. His back. His legs. His face. They formed a sphere around him, around Eloghosa, around the entire room.
"CRUSADE: COLLECTIVE OF CHAINS!"
The domain solidified. A prison of infinite links, each one connected to the next, no beginning, no end.
Eloghosa looked around, impressed.
"Oh, nice."
A pink dove appeared on his shoulder.
It chirped once.
And then it was gone.
David materialized in the middle of the Crusade, still wearing an expensive white hoodie and black baggy jeans with golden jordans , still smelling like noodles, still holding a half-empty container of Coke.
"WHAT THE ….."
"Hey, kid." Eloghosa waved. "Sorry for the short notice."
"I WAS ON A DATE!"
"I know. You looked good. Very sharp. She seemed nice."
"ELOGHOSA—"
"Welcome to the Crusade and that right there is a sorcerer. A faithful who is perverted." Eloghosa gestured around them, at the chains, at the impossible geometry. "On-field practical. Pay attention."
Jacob stared at them both, genuinely confused.
"Are you... braindead?" he asked. "You brought a civilian into my domain?"
"He's not a civilian. He's a Vanguard." Eloghosa shrugged. "Rookie. But still. And I'm showing him something important."
He turned to David.
"So. You're in a Crusade. What do you do?"
David's eye twitched. "I was holding hands with a very pretty girl."
"After that."
"I don't know! Die? Panic? Cry?"
"Wrong." Eloghosa held up a finger. "There are anti-Crusade techniques. You can try to break the barrier from inside….hard, but possible if you're strong enough. You can wait for someone outside to break it for you…easier, but you look weak. Or..."
He smiled.
"You can use your own Crusade."
David stared at him. "I don't have a Crusade."
"Yet."
"ELOGHOSA…."
"Establish a clash. Start a tug-of-war. Two domains can't exist in the same space without one eventually winning. It's about conviction. About who believes harder."
He turned back to Jacob.
"Thanks for the demonstration, by the way. I owe you one."
Jacob's chains shot forward—all of them, every link, every angle, impossible to dodge.
Eloghosa raised one hand forming the peace gesture.
"Crusade: Garden of the Evening Sunset."
The world changed.
The chains vanished. The concrete floor became grass—soft, green, impossibly alive. The walls became trees, their branches heavy with pink blossoms. The ceiling became sky, the sun setting in slow motion, painting everything in shades of gold and rose.
Pink doves filled the air, hundreds of them, their feathers catching the light.
And in the center of the garden, embedded in the earth, was a katana.
The blade was polished, elegant, too beautiful for violence. Its hilt was wrapped in pink cord, and its guard was shaped like a pair of folded wings.
Eloghosa walked to it, casual, unhurried. He wrapped his hand around the hilt.
"This is my Garden," he said. "In here, I am the law. The sunset never ends. The flowers never wilt. And my blade..."
He pulled.
The katana slid free from the earth with a sound like a bell ringing.
"...never misses."
He stabbed the blade back into the ground.
Lightning erupted from the point of impact—not a bolt, but a stream, a river of electricity that surged across the garden, through the chains, into Jacob's body. He screamed, his Crusade flickering, his chains dissolving, his purple-dark aura shattering like glass.
Eloghosa pulled the blade out.
The Garden vanished.
They were back in the abandoned office, surrounded by dust and broken furniture. Jacob lay against the far wall, his body smoking, his eyes wide.
"I'll let you go ," Eloghosa said, his voice gentle. "Tell whoever sent you that I'm flattered. But next time, bring more friends."
He turned to David.
"Ready to go?"
David was still staring at him. His mouth was open. His Coke had fallen to the floor.
"You..." David's voice was hoarse. " You're actually the main character and we're all just living in your world."
"We're all in the same world, kid." Eloghosa grinned. "I just built a garden in mine."
A pink dove appeared on David's shoulder.
"Tell Jane I'm sorry about the interruption. And that her hair looked really nice in the sunset."
"How did you…"
"The doves see everything. And i keep some with you"
The world folded.
---
David landed on a sidewalk, two blocks from the noodle shop. The dove was gone. His Coke was gone. His date was probably gone.
He stood there for a long moment, breathing.
Then he started walking.
Garden of the Evening Sunset.
He built a garden.
David smiled—a small, wondering smile.
"Showoff," he muttered.
Somewhere across the city, Eloghosa sneezed.