After some time, the sign for New Lekki came into view—pristine and unmistakable among Nigerian road signs.
Rightfully so: New Lekki is the land of the rich. We passed through the main shopping district, surrounded by people, cars, and shops I'd only seen on TV. I felt like a child outside a toy store—admiring everything but unable to buy a thing.
"Taking in the view, are you?" Hadal nudged my shoulder. "You're probably wondering why I'm not surprised."
"Why is that?" I asked.
"My family used to live here," he said. "My full name is Hadal Okoya. Long story short, we fell from grace after the Invader Wars. We were stripped of our name, hunted down, and killed."
Shock crossed my face, quickly replaced by pity.
"I'm sorry," I said reflexively. "I know it's a sore topic, but if that's true, how are you alive?"
"We're in hiding," he explained. "The remnants of the Okoya family scraped together what was left and fled to North America. The other great families hunted for us but eventually gave up. Out of sight, out of mind."
He paused. "As for me—coming back to Nigeria—I needed to know who we were. My parents, aunties, uncles… they spoke of the family like a legend. We pioneered modern flow engineering and mastered aethersmithing—a lost art that helped win the Invader Wars."
He turned to me. "My goal is to learn everything about the Okoyas' aethersmithing: how they fell from grace and, above all, how they fell in the first place."
I smiled, admiring his courage.
"Now… your turn!" Hadal said.
"Huh?"
"Your ultimate goal. Isn't that why you joined Lance Corp?"
"Ah, yes—my great goal…" I began. Michael, who'd been feigning sleep beside us, sat up and coughed.
"Well, you see, my brothers… my dream is—"
"My dream is a secret!" I blurted.
Hadal yanked his bow free. "You bastard! You're such a troll!"
"Sorry. Maybe another time," I said, patting his shoulder and grinning.
Clapping drew our attention to Michael. "Guys, focus," he said, peering out the window. "This mansion is huge and heavily guarded. You need to map your surroundings now to plan your escape. Getting out is as important as getting in. Your stealth arts are rusty, but with Chioma and Rose's help, you'll manage."
Hadal frowned. "Sir, isn't it too early to map anything? We're not near the mansion yet."
"We map the town and route now," Michael insisted. "That's the most effective way out."
Hadal leaned back, clicking his fingers. "Wasn't that Rose and Chioma's job?"
We shot him exasperated looks. Truly, he was a skilled flow user—when he bothered to pay attention.
"No more talking," Michael said. "Look outside, take in the view, and mentally prepare."
The car sped on. Five minutes later, we left the commercial district and headed toward Sankoré Mansion. Beyond the shops lay grassland dotted with enormous mansions and farms—each gate etched with the Sankoré symbol.
Michael tapped the partition. "Andrew, switch to the back route and hurry. Time's short."
"Roger." Andrew veered toward the mountains. "I felt something was off. This route makes sense."
"No questions—just watch."
Hadal and I scanned the landscape. Endless green—grass, trees, more grass. Thirty minutes passed.
"OH, FUCK THIS!" I snapped. "We've looped for half an hour. Michael, what's happening?"
He frowned, knocked on the door, and had Andrew stop. "Everyone out." We stepped onto the chilly mountain air as Michael moved ahead, gesturing us to stay put. Then he swung his leg—and struck an invisible barrier.
"All right… I see what's happening now." He turned to us, forcing a smile. "Lads… we may have a problem."