The warehouse was quieter than it had ever been. Not the comforting kind of quiet that came after a long day’s work, but the heavy, suffocating kind that settled after something irreversible had taken place. True Genesis was no longer whole. Half of their people had walked out with Zubair, and the ones who remained looked lost, as if waiting for someone to tell them what to do next.

Aisha sat on an overturned crate near the old loading dock, staring at the cold concrete floor. She hadn’t slept. The events of the previous night—the argument, Zubair’s ultimatum, and the sheer finality of the split—played over and over in her mind. She had watched as some of the movement’s brightest minds had walked away, convinced that war was the only answer. And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if they were wrong.

Kunle paced near her, his arms crossed, agitation radiating off him in waves. He had been restless since the moment Zubair left, muttering to himself, shaking his head, shooting annoyed glances at the remaining members of True Genesis. Finally, he stopped and let out a sharp exhale.

“This is bad,” he said. “Worse than bad. This is a disaster.”

Aisha glanced up at him. “I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” Kunle threw his hands in the air. “Half our people are gone. The ones that stayed don’t know what to do. And Adunni? She’s trying to act like nothing happened, but it’s obvious she has no idea how to fix this. We’re crumbling.”

“I know,” Aisha repeated, her voice quiet.

Kunle sighed and sat down beside her, rubbing a hand over his face. “I just don’t get it. They actually believe Zubair has the answer. As if using engrams as weapons won’t make us just as bad as the coalition.”

Aisha hesitated. “Maybe it’s not that simple.”

Kunle turned to her sharply. “Don’t tell me you’re starting to think he’s right.”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she clasped her hands together, staring down at them. “I don’t want to be like them, Kunle. But I also don’t want to die. And I don’t want this to be for nothing. What if we don’t have a choice?”

Kunle shook his head. “There’s always a choice. And the second we start thinking otherwise, we’re already lost.”

Before Aisha could respond, a voice called out. “Adunni wants everyone in the main hall. Now.”

The remaining members of True Genesis gathered in the main hall, their faces tight with exhaustion and uncertainty. The absence of Zubair’s faction was glaring. The energy in the room had shifted—no longer the charged determination of revolutionaries, but something more fragile, something barely holding together.

Adunni stood at the front, her arms crossed over her chest. There was no anger in her expression, just a deep weariness. When she spoke, her voice was calm but firm.

“We are not broken,” she began. “We are not finished. Zubair and those who followed him have made their choice. But we are still here, and that means something.”

A ripple of murmurs passed through the crowd. Some nodded in agreement, others looked unconvinced.

One of the younger members, a wiry man named Tunde, stepped forward. “But how do we fight, Adunni? They took nearly half our resources with them. And if they actually go through with their plan, if they use those engrams, the coalition is going to retaliate harder than ever.”

Adunni’s jaw tightened. “I know what’s at stake. That’s why we have to be careful. We cannot let desperation push us into becoming something we’re not.”

Aisha glanced around the room, gauging the reactions. Some looked relieved, but others… others looked like they were losing faith.

Kunle whispered to her, “She’s losing them.”

Aisha swallowed. He was right. Some of the remaining members had already begun shifting uncomfortably, casting glances at one another. The younger recruits, the ones who had been drawn to True Genesis by the promise of action, were struggling to hide their frustration.

Then someone spoke up from the back. “We need to be ready for war, Adunni. Whether we like it or not, that’s what this is.”

Adunni’s gaze was steady. “Readiness is not the same as recklessness. We have a responsibility to the people we fight for. We cannot betray them by becoming another version of the coalition.”

A tense silence followed. Then, slowly, people began nodding. It wasn’t enthusiastic agreement, but it was something.

Aisha let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

As the meeting dispersed, Kunle and Aisha lingered near the back of the hall, watching as small groups broke off to whisper among themselves. Some were reassured by Adunni’s words. Others were clearly not.

Kunle rubbed his forehead. “We’re hanging on by a thread.”

Aisha nodded. “Yeah. And I don’t know if it’s going to hold.”

A sharp voice cut through their conversation. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

They turned to see Bose, one of the more experienced members of True Genesis. She was one of Adunni’s most trusted allies, but tonight, her face was unreadable.

“You two need to be careful,” Bose continued. “Some of the others are… considering their options.”

Kunle frowned. “You mean defecting?”

Bose didn’t confirm or deny it. “Just watch your backs. Things are about to get worse before they get better.”

She turned and walked away, leaving Aisha and Kunle standing there, a heavy realization sinking into them.

True Genesis wasn’t just fractured. It was slowly collapsing.

The sun was barely up when the first reports came in.

Kunle stood at the edge of the loading bay, his eyes locked onto an old, static-filled television set perched atop a stack of crates. The broadcast flickered in and out, but the message was clear. The coalition had struck back.

A government news anchor, face frozen in a practiced expression of calm authority, read from a prepared statement. Behind her, a massive screen displayed grainy footage of masked fighters storming a truck—Zubair’s raid. The footage had been edited, spliced together to make True Genesis look like nothing more than a pack of violent insurgents.

“This morning, government forces launched a counter-operation in response to the theft of classified engram technology by extremist groups seeking to disrupt national stability. Citizens are urged to report any suspicious activity and remain indoors as security operations continue.”

Aisha swallowed hard. “They’re controlling the narrative.”

Kunle’s jaw clenched. “And they’re winning.”

Adunni’s voice cut through the air. “Everyone inside. Now.”

Inside the main hall, Adunni stood at the center of a circle of anxious faces. The news broadcast had already sent ripples of unease through the camp. Now, she had to keep them together.

“They’ve labeled us terrorists,” she said flatly. “Effective immediately, Lagos is under heightened surveillance. Checkpoints are up. Anyone suspected of ties to us will be detained, interrogated, or worse.”

Murmurs of concern rippled through the room.

Bose, her arms crossed, let out a low whistle. “Well, that didn’t take long.”

Adunni’s gaze sharpened. “No. It didn’t. And if you think this is bad, you haven’t seen the worst of it. Our safe houses in Mushin and Ikeja were raided at dawn. No survivors.”

Silence. Then someone swore under their breath.

Aisha felt her stomach twist. “That means they’re tracking us.”

Kunle nodded grimly. “Or someone is feeding them information.”

Bose straightened. “You think we have a mole?”

Adunni didn’t answer immediately, which was enough of an answer.

“We don’t have time for paranoia,” she finally said. “Right now, our priority is survival.”

The problem was, there was nowhere left to go.

Every known safe house had been compromised. The government wasn’t just reacting—they were erasing True Genesis. Every lead, every name, every suspected sympathizer. It was happening too fast for them to keep up.

Kunle ran a hand over his face. “So what do we do?”

Adunni took a steadying breath. “We move. Now. This warehouse is compromised. We leave within the hour.”

A ripple of tension passed through the group. Some nodded. Others hesitated.

“Move where?” someone asked.

Adunni exhaled sharply. “We have a location. It’s not perfect, but it’ll buy us time.”

Aisha looked at her. “Where?”

Adunni met her gaze. “Makoko.”

The floating slum on the Lagos lagoon. A city within a city, where government reach was thin and secrets thrived. It was dangerous. Crowded. But it was also the only place left.

As the group dispersed to prepare for evacuation, Aisha and Kunle lingered near the back of the hall.

“This is bad,” Aisha murmured.

Kunle let out a hollow laugh. “It’s worse than bad.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “We should leave.”

Aisha frowned. “Leave?”

Kunle turned to face her. “Think about it. The coalition is burning True Genesis to the ground. We barely made it out last time. What’s going to happen when we run out of places to hide?”

Aisha folded her arms. “And go where?”

Kunle hesitated. “We figure something out. We disappear. Start over somewhere.”

Aisha stared at him. “And do what? Pretend this isn’t happening?”

Kunle exhaled, shaking his head. “I don’t know. But staying here? This feels like suicide.”

Aisha bit her lip. A part of her wanted to agree. But then she thought about Zubair. About the engrams. About the people who had died this morning. About how much had already been lost.

“We can’t run,” she said quietly. “Not now.”

Kunle looked at her for a long time, then sighed. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

An hour later, they were packed and ready. A convoy of stolen vans, loaded with whatever supplies they could salvage. The remnants of True Genesis moved fast, slipping into the streets before the coalition could tighten its noose.

Aisha sat in the back of one of the trucks, gripping the side panel as the vehicle rumbled over uneven roads. She glanced at Kunle, who stared out the window in silence.

Neither of them spoke.

Because in their gut, they both knew the same thing:

True Genesis wasn’t just running.

They were running out of time.

The convoy hadn’t even reached Makoko when the first explosion hit.

A deafening BOOM shook the ground, rattling the van’s frame as Kunle instinctively ducked. Tires screeched. Shouts rang out. The world blurred into chaos as the convoy skidded to a halt.

Gunfire erupted from the rooftops. Shadows moved through the smoke, fast and precise—the coalition’s elite strike team.

“AMBUSH!” someone screamed.

Aisha barely had time to react before the van door was yanked open. A masked soldier lunged at her, rifle raised. She kicked out, catching him in the knee, then scrambled out of the vehicle as bullets shattered the windows.

Kunle was already moving, diving behind a burned-out sedan for cover. This wasn’t a standard raid. This was extermination.

The coalition forces moved with terrifying efficiency. Drones buzzed overhead, their scanners painting targets in neon red. The few remaining True Genesis fighters fired back, but they were outgunned, outnumbered, outmaneuvered.

Adunni’s voice rang out over the comms. “Regroup at the docks! Fall back to the water!”

Kunle grabbed Aisha’s wrist. “We have to move!”

She hesitated. All around them, True Genesis members were falling. Some lay motionless on the ground. Others were being dragged away by soldiers, their screams lost in the deafening chaos.

Aisha clenched her fists. How did it come to this?

No time for questions.

Kunle pulled her forward, weaving through burning wreckage and collapsing stalls. The air stank of smoke and blood. They had to reach the water.

They spotted Adunni near the docks, her back against a crate, pistol in hand. Her face was streaked with dirt and sweat, but her eyes burned with defiance.

“Where’s everyone?” Kunle gasped, scanning the wreckage.

Adunni shook her head. “Gone. Captured. Or worse.”

A sick feeling settled in Kunle’s gut. True Genesis had been wiped out.

The realization barely had time to sink in before a squad of soldiers rounded the corner.

Adunni raised her gun. “Run.”

Aisha grabbed her arm. “No! We can still—”

Adunni shoved her back. “GO!”

The last thing Kunle saw before Aisha pulled him into the water was Adunni standing her ground, gun blazing.

Then the world went dark.