Just then, voices came from the kitchen doorway.
"Breakfast is ready!" David's mother called cheerfully.
"Yes, come and eat before it gets cold!" Mmeso's mother added, carrying a tray with steaming plates.
Skywhite bolted upright, eyes wide.
"…Food? Finally! Uncle… can we stop now?!"
David chuckled quietly, still catching his breath. Gift rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. Divine wiped sweat from her forehead, letting the mothers lead the group toward the dining table.
The table was a colorful spread: bowls of jollof rice, golden fried plantains, scrambled eggs mixed with peppers and tomatoes, slices of bread stacked neatly, and cups of hot tea steaming in the morning light.
The plates slowly emptied.
Conversation faded into smaller exchanges.
"David, we're going there today," Mr. Chibueze said.
"Okay, sir," David replied. "What time?"
"Once we're done eating."
"Alright."
Skywhite frowned slightly, looking around. "Hey… is it just me, or is the vibe too serious for just going out?"
"Yeah, he's right," Gift added.
The rest of the house already seemed to know what was about to happen. They were all staring at us.
Mr. Chibueze looked at everyone before his gaze settled on me. Then he spoke, enunciating each word slowly, clearly—
"WE. ARE. GOING. TO BUY WEAPONS."
Gift's eyes widened in surprise.
Skywhite, however, didn't react immediately. Then—
"Whew! I've been thinking of how to convince you to take me to buy weapons!" he said excitedly. "You know, with you being a police officer and all, I thought you might refuse me. Haha!"
Gift turned sharply toward him. "So you were planning this already? And you didn't tell me?"
Skywhite shrugged. "I didn't think it was important. Besides, when I heard David was here… it's the same thing anyway."
Then he turned quickly to Mr. Chibueze.
"Uncle, please let me come with you."
Mr. Chibueze studied him for a moment. "Alright. But what about money? Do you have any?"
"Yes, I do. My dad sent me some."
"Good." He nodded, then turned to me. "David, go prepare."
"Okay, sir."
I stood up and headed upstairs, my thoughts racing.
At my age, I never imagined I'd be thinking about buying weapons.
But this wasn't normal.
Not with the system interface… not with the countdown ticking toward three weeks.
System Panel: Countdown — 3 Weeks Remaining.
Who knew what would happen when it hit zero?
At least… we were given time to prepare.
"David!"
"I'm coming!"
I rushed back downstairs. "I'm here."
"Alright, let's go," Mr. Chibueze said.
We all got into his minivan, and soon, we were on the move.
The journey was quiet.
Too quiet.
Then—
"David," Skywhite said, leaning forward, "how did you feel when you were fighting that bird?"
I glanced at him. "How do you think I felt? I was scared—seriously scared."
"Yeah, I know," he said. "But… wasn't there some kind of adrenaline rush?"
Mr. Chibueze glanced at him briefly, then looked at me through the rearview mirror, waiting.
"…You're right," I admitted. "I did feel that."
Skywhite grinned. "Haha! That's my boy!"
"Why are you happy?" I asked.
"Don't worry, Uncle will explain," he said, gesturing to Mr. Chibueze.
Then he continued, "The thing is… you handled it this time, right? But next time, if you haven't felt that kind of pressure before, you might freeze. That adrenaline? It matters."
Mr. Chibueze didn't respond.
Instead, he slowed the car.
"We're here."
Skywhite looked around. "This is the place?"
We stepped out.
I frowned.
"…This is a shopping complex."
"Yes, I can see that," Gift said. "Let's just keep moving."
"Yes, sir," I said absentmindedly.
She shot me a look. "Who are you calling 'sir'? I'm just one year older than you."
"That's true… sir."
"Hey—do you want me to beat you up?"
I laughed. "Relax."
Mr. Chibueze smiled faintly. "It's good you can still joke like this."
We turned a corner—
And a man stepped out from the shadows, blocking our path.
I froze for a second.
I hadn't even sensed him.
He was huge.
Broad shoulders like a wall, arms thick with muscle, veins visible beneath dark, rough skin. His neck looked like it could snap steel, and a jagged scar ran from the side of his face down to his jaw. His eyes were sharp—cold, predatory—like someone who had seen too much and feared nothing.
Even the air around him felt heavy.
He looked at us, then spoke in a deep, rough voice—
"Wetin una dey find for here?"
(What are you people looking for here?)
Mr. Chibueze stepped forward calmly.
"Ego. Kudi. Owo."
Money. As soon as he heard that, his expression changed—beaming with a smile, as if he had just won the lottery. The three of us were shocked.
"WTF… welcome, sir," I said.
He moved out of the way, allowing us to pass through easily.
"What the hell was that, uncle?" Gift asked.
"What? That's just how they are."
"But his smile… it was creepy, right, guys?"
"Yeah," Skywhite responded.
"Huh… David? Hello, David."
"Ah, yes?"
"What are you thinking?"
Even Mr. Chibueze looked at me.
"David, are you alright?"
"Yes, sir. I'm good. It's just… the guard. I didn't sense him until he showed up," I explained.
"Oh, that? You don't need to worry about that," Mr. Chibueze said.
"No, I think I do need to worry. Ever since that day a week ago, I've been training my awareness to the point that if I close my eyes, I can tell where someone is—but him? I felt nothing. And that makes me uncomfortable," I admitted.
"David is right. I'd be uncomfortable too," Skywhite said.
"Same here," Gift seconded.
"Ah… you're worried about that? These people we're going to meet are not normal. Before all this started, would you even think about something like this?"
"No."
"Remember what I told you before," Mr. Chibueze continued. "There are two types of police, and there are double sides to everything. Some of these people are spies, assassins, former soldiers. With the experience they have, how high do you think their awareness level is?"
"No… good. Let's continue."
We turned toward a door and pushed it open.
The room inside was like a vault of modern warfare. Guns lined every wall, racks crammed with rifles, pistols, and shotguns. There were rows of AK-47s with polished wooden stocks, sleek Gyrojet pistols glowing faintly under the lights, and fully automatic Pancor Jackhammers standing ready. Bent-barrel Krummlaufs peeked from the corners, LeMat revolvers sat on velvet-lined trays, and even a few Colt Walkers rested on the highest shelves, gleaming under the harsh light.
The sheer variety was overwhelming. Some looked historic, some futuristic, all deadly. I could feel the hum of potential in the room—the kind of power that could change the course of a fight in seconds.
Skywhite's eyes widened, Gift's jaw tightened, and I felt my pulse quicken. This wasn't just a weapons room… it was an arsenal.