"ADE!"
Baba Ikuomola's shout echoed as the shadows swallowed Ade whole. The ground gave way—soft under his feet one moment, slick and treacherous the next. He dropped, hard, into the dark. Cold pressed against him, tighter than steel.
He tried to scream, but nothing came out. Not a single sound.
Then—just black.
He blinked, heart hammering. When his eyes opened again, everything had shifted. No forest, no sky, nothing familiar. Just a smoky gray haze, swirling and thick. The ground held him but kept shifting, almost like it was breathing.
"What… is this place?" his voice barely broke the silence. The words just floated away.
A voice answered, close by, steady: "The place between worlds."
Ade spun, pulse racing.
A man stood right there—tall, solid, real. Not a ghost. Not a monster.
His chest tightened. "…Father?"
The man took a step forward. "Yes, Ade."
Ade's breath came shallow. "But… you're dead."
His father managed half a smile, sorrow flickering in his eyes. "My body's gone. My spirit's stuck."
Desperate, Ade reached for him. "They said the Night People killed you!"
His father nodded. "They did."
Ade's hands curled into fists. "Help me. They took Mama. I have to save her!"
A shadow crossed his father's face. "You're in bigger danger than you know."
Ade's voice shook. "What do you mean?"
His father lifted a hand, swirling the mist—suddenly Ade could see his village, the shrine, a ritual… himself at the center of it all.
"What am I looking at?" Ade asked, watching the scene shift.
His father's voice turned serious. "Their plan."
Shapes sharpened. Someone with burning red eyes leaned in, mouth moving, but Ade only caught fragments—"Your blood makes you special…"
His father cut through, voice low and hard. "They're not just after your mother. They want you, too."
A chill prickled Ade's skin. "Why?"
His father looked him straight in the eye. "Because you've got the blood of both worlds."
That made no sense. Ade shook his head. "I don't understand."
His father moved closer. "A long time ago, I was one of them—the Night People. But I left. I fell in love with your mother. I wanted to be human."
Everything tumbled together in Ade's chest.
"So… it's true."
His father nodded. "That's why you're different."
Memories flickered through the swirling mist—strange childhood moments, animals acting oddly, things moving on their own… all the little weirdness he'd tried to pretend wasn't there.
"You're the bridge," his father said.
Ade stared. "The bridge?"
"The one who can open their way in—or shut it for good."
The words landed heavy.
His father's tone turned grim. "The Night People want you to open that door for them."
Ade hesitated. "And if they get through?"
His father's answer froze the air: "Darkness will eat everything."
Ade's hands shook. "They told me I'm one of them…"
His father shook his head. "No. You get to choose. That's your power."
Ade gritted his teeth. "I don't want anything from them. I just want Mama."
His father's eyes softened. "That's hope, son. Don't let them steal it."
Suddenly, the mist started swirling faster, whipping around their feet.
His father tensed, eyes tracking the shadows. "They're coming."
Ade whipped his head around. "Who?"
"The ones who dragged you here."
Dark shapes slid from the edges, silent, closing in.
His father gripped Ade's shoulders tight. "You need to go back."
"How?!" Ade's voice cracked.
His father pressed a palm over Ade's heart. "Your strength isn't in that charm. It's always lived inside you."
A faint glow burned in Ade's chest—small at first, then brighter.
"Focus," his father urged. "Remember who you are. Remember what you're fighting for."
The shadows lunged.
"Ade!" his father yelled. "Wake up!"
Ade choked and gasped, breath scraping his lungs.
He was back. The clearing—rough dirt, shadows locking around him again—but everything felt different now. Right there, the red-eyed figure hovered, hissing.
"You belong to us now."
But Ade felt it—that bright, steady heat in his chest that wouldn't let go.
He straightened up, fists clenched. "No…"
The shadows tightened.
"You can't fight us," it spat.
Ade's eyes flashed. "Yes, I can."
Power surged through him. The shadows ripped apart, scattering. The ground split. The cloaked ones stumbled, and even the red-eyed figure drew back, glancing uncertain for the first time.
Ade stood tall, breathing hard, flickers of light in his eyes.
"I'm not yours."
Behind him, his mother lay motionless—the ritual circle broken. The air trembled, as if all the world waited, holding its breath.
Baba Ikuomola stared, stunned. "Ade… what are you?"
Ade looked at his own hands, then out at the swirling dark.
"I'm not sure yet," he said, voice quiet but steady, "but I'll find out."