That night, the neighborhood was not peaceful at all.
Voices echoed through the streets.
People shouting names.
Doors slamming open.
Phone flashlights cutting through the snowfall.
"Call the police!"
"Has anyone seen Tunde?"
"She just stepped outside!"
Car alarms started blaring one after another.
Somebody's generator shut off abruptly.
Then came the sound of hurried footsteps running across frozen pavement.
Inside the Adebayo house, no one moved toward the door.
They listened.
Every sound felt amplified.
Every shadow felt heavier.
Mrs. Adebayo held her phone tightly.
"No one is picking up," she whispered. "The police line is busy."
"It won't matter if they come," Mr. Adebayo said quietly. "Did you see the size of that thing?"
A loud metallic crash sounded two houses away.
Ada flinched.
David's jaw tightened.
"Dad…" he began carefully.
Mr. Adebayo looked at him.
"If this continues… can you buy guns?"
The room went still.
Mrs. Adebayo's head snapped toward him.
"David!"
He didn't look away from his father.
"Or maybe better cold weapons," he added. "Something we can actually use if it comes close."
The weight of the question settled heavily between them.
Mr. Adebayo lowered the axe slightly.
"You think it will come that close?"
"Yes," Ada answered this time.
Not dramatic.
Not emotional.
Certain.
Another scream tore through the night.
Closer now.
Mr. Adebayo looked toward the door.
Then back at his children.
"I'll see what I can do," he said slowly. "But firearms aren't easy to get. Not legally."
David nodded.
"Then we prepare with what we have."
Mrs. Adebayo shook her head in disbelief.
"Three days ago we were arguing about Wi-Fi speed."
Another heavy wingbeat echoed overhead.
This time, the house lights flickered.
All four of them looked up instinctively.
The snow outside continued falling.
But now—
It no longer felt beautiful.
It felt like cover.
And somewhere beyond the streetlights, something large shifted in the dark sky again.Waiting.
David can you still sense it seem to have gone," ada said"
He nodded slowly.
"Okay."
He closed his eyes.
Breath slowed.
The outside world faded.
Sound came first.
The soft fall of snow.
The distant hum of a generator somewhere down the street.
A dog barking faintly two blocks away.
Then he reached further.
Not with sight.
With awareness.
He searched upward.
At first, he sensed disorder in the snow currents — as if something massive had passed through the air and disturbed its natural flow.
And beneath it…
Something else.
Dark.
Red.
Not clearly defined.
But he thought it was blood.
Or something close to it.
Because the pattern felt wrong.
Not natural.
Not clean.
Then he pushed higher.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like climbing an invisible staircase in the sky.
The pressure changed.
The sensation of space itself resisting him.
He frowned slightly.
"What is this?"
He tried to move further upward.
The moment he attempted to cross that region—
Something pushed back.
A barrier.
Not physical.
Not visible.
But absolute.
His awareness struck it like hitting a solid wall in the air.
His breathing changed.
"This barrier…"
His mind focused.
"Let's see if I can pass through."
He gathered his concentration.
Then pushed forward.
Harder.
The pressure inside his skull increased.
His muscles tightened involuntarily.
His body trembled slightly as if reacting to a force only he could feel.
But he did not stop.
Because he saw it.
The bird's presence spike faintly again beyond the barrier.
It was still there.
Watching.
Circling slowly above the neighborhood.
David clenched his fists.
Awareness 1.50 stabilized.
Then he pressed harder against the invisible wall.
The sensation was like forcing his way through thick, compressed air.
Pain began forming behind his eyes.
A dull, growing throb.
But he kept pushing.
Just a little more.
Just enough to cross.
The barrier vibrated faintly under his pressure.
Not breaking.
But reacting.
As if something was testing how far he was willing to go.
Ada noticed his breathing becoming heavier.
"David… stop if it hurts."
He didn't answer.
Because above that barrier—
The giant bird was still there.
And this time, it felt his presence pushing upward.
Its movement slowed.
Then it became frantic.
Like something territorial had been challenged.
Far above the snowfall, the dark wings began beating violently.
Not fleeing.
Not approaching.
But reacting.
David gritted his teeth.
Blood trickled slowly from his nose again.
But he pushed one more time.
Just one more.
Against the invisible sky.
Against the resistance.
Against the boundary that did not want him passing.Bang