Kunle’s sleep-deprived eyes burned as he logged into his station, but he barely noticed. The hum of the lab, usually comforting, felt oppressive now, as though the air itself carried the weight of what he’d seen. Ogundele’s cryptic warning echoed in his mind like a drumbeat: “There are things about The Amotekun you don’t need to know.”

Kunle glanced around the lab. It was still early, and most of the other interns hadn’t arrived yet. He hoped to bury himself in routine tasks, at least for the morning. But as he began typing, his hands faltered. He couldn’t stop thinking about the message on the chip: “They are watching.”

Before he could spiral further into his thoughts, Ogundele appeared at his workstation. Kunle’s heart leapt into his throat.

“Kunle,” Ogundele said, his voice low but firm. “Come with me.”

Kunle swallowed hard and followed Ogundele down the corridor. The man’s pace was deliberate, his polished boots striking the floor with an unnerving rhythm. They entered a small conference room, the blinds drawn tight over the single window. Ogundele gestured for Kunle to sit, then closed the door behind him.

“Do you know why I brought you here?” Ogundele asked, leaning against the table.

Kunle shook his head, though his palms had already begun to sweat.

Ogundele studied him for a moment before continuing. “I saw the logs from last night.”

Kunle froze. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but Ogundele’s piercing gaze made it clear that no amount of pretense would work.

“What exactly were you trying to do?” Ogundele asked. His tone wasn’t accusatory, but it was loaded with expectation.

“I was running diagnostics,” Kunle said, keeping his voice steady. “The system flagged an anomaly, so I checked it out.”

Ogundele raised an eyebrow. “An anomaly?”

“Yes, sir,” Kunle said, nodding quickly. “It seemed like a routine error at first.”

Ogundele’s eyes narrowed. “And did it stay routine?”

Kunle hesitated. His mind raced for a believable answer, but Ogundele’s presence felt like a vise tightening around him. Finally, he decided to play it safe.

“I wasn’t sure,” he admitted. “The system logged me out before I could finish checking.”

Ogundele straightened, crossing his arms. “Listen to me carefully, Kunle. There are layers to this facility you don’t understand. The Amotekun isn’t just about engrams and skills—it’s about control. The less you know, the safer you are.”

Kunle opened his mouth to respond, but Ogundele raised a hand to silence him.

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” Ogundele continued. “But curiosity can be dangerous here. Stick to your assigned tasks. No more, no less. Do we understand each other?”

Kunle nodded, his throat dry. “Yes, sir.”

Ogundele leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Good. Now get back to work. And Kunle…” He paused, his gaze sharp enough to cut. “Stay away from the restricted logs.”

Kunle nodded again, his stomach churning. As Ogundele left the room, the sound of the door clicking shut felt like the final note of a funeral march. Kunle sat there for a moment, trying to steady his breathing. His supervisor’s words had been clear, but they hadn’t dampened his curiosity—they’d only fueled it.

By the time Kunle returned to his workstation, the lab was buzzing with activity. Interns and staff moved between terminals, their chatter blending into the background hum. Kunle tried to focus on his assigned tasks, but his mind kept drifting back to the chip. What had Ogundele meant by “layers” and “control”? And why did he seem more concerned about curiosity than the anomaly itself?

Kunle’s thoughts were interrupted by a cheerful voice. “Hey, Kunle. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He turned to see Seyi, one of the security technicians, grinning at him. Seyi was known for his easygoing nature and knack for making light of even the tensest situations.

“Long night,” Kunle replied, forcing a smile.

Seyi raised an eyebrow. “Must’ve been. You’ve got that ‘I didn’t sleep’ look.”

Kunle chuckled nervously. “Something like that.”

Seyi leaned in, lowering his voice. “Word of advice, my friend: don’t let Ogundele get to you. He’s all bark, no bite.”

Kunle nodded, though he wasn’t so sure. Ogundele’s warning had felt more like a veiled threat than empty words.

“Anyway,” Seyi said, straightening up, “let me know if you need anything. I’ve got access to some cool stuff if you’re ever feeling adventurous.”

Kunle managed a genuine laugh this time. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As Seyi walked away, Kunle’s gaze drifted back to his terminal. The urge to dig deeper was stronger than ever, but he knew he couldn’t afford another misstep—not yet. Still, the chip in his pocket felt like a ticking time bomb, and Kunle couldn’t shake the feeling that he was running out of time to defuse it.