《The last song of the ancestors》


 Song 1: The mountain of scrap metal

    The girl was climbing the pile of scrap metal. Her forehead was sweating and dripping down her black-skinned face. A hot wind blew through her thick curls. She removed the glove from her right hand. There were small burn marks forming a constellation of scars. She straightened her hair and tucked the unruly strands behind her ear.


    He looked up. The freighters from the metropolis had dumped the garbage in the morning. There could be parts of some value up there. Processors, circuit boards, obsolete mechanical prostheses and faulty electronics. With luck, she''d find something nice and generate some money.


    Other scrap dealers greeted her. One of them, a man wearing a gas mask, said to the young woman:


    "Make sure you don''t cause an avalanche of garbage today, young lady."


    "Fuck you, old man!"


    "You are very hot-headed."


    They went their separate ways. Suddenly, the young woman saw something shining. Something metallic, with a golden sheen. She walked towards the thing near the top of the mountain of scrap metal. The closer she got, the more her doubts diminished.


    She knelt down next to the object. It was a metal arm. She thought it was a cybernetic prosthesis. She put on her worn gloves and dug carefully. She removed the accumulated garbage. To his surprise, it was more than a gauntlet. An entire arm was revealed. Astonished, she increased the speed of her digging.


    When she finished, there was a boy who looked about her age, around sixteen. The girl put her ear to his chest. He was unconscious but alive. His hair was shaved on the sides, and at the top of his head there were small dreadlocks falling to the left. He wore glasses with square lenses and dark metal frames.


    He was wearing a light brown jacket with purple details. All four buttons were open, with only a thin white shirt covering his chest. Dark pants went down to the middle of his shins. He wore raw leather slippers with braided buckles.


    After rescuing the boy from the pile of garbage, she tried to wake him up.


    "Hey, kid, are you okay?"


    "FATHER!"


    The young man stood up quickly and banged his head on his savior''s forehead.


    A huge bump emerged from her forehead. Her veins popped out on her neck. She was furious. She grabbed the young man by the collar of his jacket and shook him hard from side to side.


    "Are you crazy, you want to scare me to death?"


    "Okay, sorry!"


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    The boy''s eyes rolled back in dizziness. His irises had a ring around them that emitted a faint greenish, fluorescent glow.


    "How did you end up here? Did you come from Ilu Nla?"


    "I don''t know. I don''t really remember how I ended up here. I was with my father and¡­ from then on, I can''t remember anything else."


    "I think you fell off a freighter that dumps garbage here. You have amnesia. You must have hit your head when you fell."


    "Could be."


    The boy climbed out of the pile of garbage and looked around. Hundreds of piles of garbage were arranged around the site. Several people, including old people and children, were rummaging through the piles and collecting what they thought was valuable. A sour smell wafted through the air. His eyes watered. He coughed as he inhaled the smell of the slurry.


    In the distance, he noticed what looked like a city growing in disorder on a hillside. The environment beyond the mountains of scrap metal was arid, almost desert-like.


    "Where am I?"


    "At the dump, right, obviously. This is the place where Ilu Nla throws away everything she believes to be worthless¡­ including people. Come with me, it won''t be safe to walk around with these implants. You''ll attract the attention of someone you shouldn''t."


    "What''s your name?"


    "They call me Spin Bomb. And you?"


    "I''m Akachi. It''s one of the few things I remember now. Thanks for saving me."


    "Relax, come here."


    Spin Bomb held out his hands and helped the boy to his feet. Akachi observed his interlocutor. She was wearing a skirt-short and a dark sleeveless top. She wore thick, worn leather gloves. She wore square-toed dark leather boots.


    Around her waist, in bands on her shoulders and bracelets on her forearms, were bamboo tubes of various sizes. They were wrapped in strings, each one a different color. Akachi didn''t dare ask, and followed Spin Bomb to the base of the pile of junk.


    Suddenly, a metallic sound echoed through the air. The sound began to repeat with greater speed and volume.


    "What''s that?"


    Spin Bomb turned to Akachi with bulging eyes and snarled between his teeth:


    "Run boy, run!"


    All the scrap collectors around started running towards the gate. The pair followed the flow of people. High-pitched barking and running sounds became audible. The predators were running through the piles of garbage at speed.


    Akachi looked back, he needed to understand the danger that was upon them. To his surprise, they were deformed hyenas. They all had deformities and purulent tumors all over their bodies. Many of the animals had very little fur. There were hyenas with two heads, several pairs of eyes and three or four rows of teeth.


    "What kind of monsters are those, Spin Bomb?"


    "They''re mutant hyenas. They got that way after they ate the chemicals in the garbage."


    Before they got through the gate, Akachi was elbowed in the face and fell to the ground.


    Spin Bomb rolled his eyes, stopped running and, making his way through the crowd of fugitives, headed in Akachi''s direction.


    Damn it! Why am I risking my life for a stranger?


    He helped Akachi to his feet. However, the mutant hyenas formed a semi-circle around them. They growled and bit the air. The leader of the pack slammed his forepaws on the ground, urging the members to attack their prey.


    "You puppies want a piece of me? Then come and get it, you sons of bitches!"


    Spin Bomb reached for one of the tubes on his belt. He took out a portable torch, barely bigger than a lighter. He lit the tube''s wick and threw it on top of a nearby pile of scrap metal. The artifact caused a huge explosion. The mountain of garbage shook and collapsed, but in the direction of the pair.


    "Ah! I miscalculated the detonation. I screwed up!"

 Song 2: Under the gun of bad luck

    The mountain of garbage collapsed on the mutant hyenas. There was no time for Spin Bomb and Akachi to run. Behind the bars of the gate, people screamed in vain.


    Damn it! I''m going to die here. Is my grave really going to be a garbage dump?


    Instinctively, Spin Bomb put both arms in front of his body in self-defense. He closed his eyes. He spent a few seconds waiting for the worst. The noise of the landslide stopped. He looked around. She felt her face and body.


    "I''m alive!"


    She opened her mouth in amazement. Akachi was holding her in his arms on the other side of the fence.


    The locals were impressed by the stranger''s speed. They hadn''t seen him pick up Spin Bomb and jump over the barbed wire fence at the top. They applauded their savior.


    The girl looked bewildered. She looked at the other young man who held her in his arms. Akachi kept such a serene face, as if nothing had happened.


    What kind of person are you?


    "How did you get through the fence so quickly?"


    "I don''t know, I just acted."


    "Okay, but put me down."


    "Sorry¡­"


    The people around congratulated Akachi on his rescue. They patted his shoulders and stroked his dreadlocks. It was no longer safe to return to the dump. Other mutant hyenas might appear. They decided to take the road to their neighborhood.


    Chrome Hill was home to Spin Bomb and the scrap metal collectors. It was a shantytown that was growing wildly on a hillside, just like other shantytowns. Some of the residents formed associations of collectors or acted alone, suffering a greater risk of being robbed during raids.


    The floating freighters dumped tons of waste at the dump. There were many pieces of high-tech cybernetics that could be collected, sold, exchanged or even recovered by those who understood the subject. By doing this consistently, you could get a lot of Credbit, cryptocurrencies that circulated from wallet to digital wallet.


    There were several reasons for this cryptocurrency rush. Among them, to buy more advanced cyberware, to pay the protection fee charged by the local gangs, to save enough money to leave the favela and go back and forth to Ilu Nla via the middlemen, etc.


    Spin Bomb had a humbler dream: he wanted to take over his family''s fireworks business and keep the tradition alive.


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    Along the way, Akachi and she made small talk. The young man looked up at an elevation. Two crossed sticks tied together with ribbons were stuck in the ground, indicating a grave. The boy pointed to the spot.


    "Who''s that over there?"


    "Someone with good intentions. The problem is that hell is also full of good intentions."


    Akachi stopped walking and lagged behind. Behind the sticks that served as tombstones, there was a young adult wearing a blue hooded sweatshirt. Underneath the sweatshirt was a red basketball jersey with a large number 17 printed on the chest. A tricolor cap covered the large braids of thick, curly hair. Worn-out sneakers and dark shorts full of pockets completed his outfit.


    The man in the sweatshirt looked at Akachi and smiled. The boy was curious about the figure. No one seemed to notice the observer.


    "Someone well-meaning, Spin Bomb?"


    "I told you; he was an idealist. Come on, or I''ll leave you behind."


    "Idealist¡­"


    "Yeah, he died at the hands of the Central Command, the gang that controls our slum. You see those mounds of earth covered with stones; they''re tombs we make to bury those who defy the local criminal organizations. Don''t follow in those people''s footsteps, Akachi."


    The two looked at each other. The young man noticed that Spin Bomb was twitching her lips. Something was stuck inside her. His interlocutor decided not to pursue the matter. Once again, he turned his eyes to the boy in the sweatshirt, but he was no longer there. The pair continued walking with the others.


    At the entrance to the favela, there were two Central Command security guards. One of them was as young as Spin Bomb. They wore prostheses and low-quality cyberware implants. If they did their job well, they would rise in the local hierarchy and gain privileges such as money and more advanced implants.


    They watched the flow of people, leaving and entering depended on their permission. To throw off the guards, Spin Bomb covered Akachi with a shabby cloak. Even so, the two crime scouts managed to notice the presence of the outsider.


    "Wo-wo-wo! Who''s that guy there?"


    Oh, shit! Just when these guys want to get into trouble.


    "He''s a friend of mine, Yard."


    "Look Smoke, Spin Bomb has a friend now."


    "Very suspicious, Jarda. Who would want to be friends with that sucker?"


    "You brat, I''m older than you."


    "Yeah? And you have an anti-material rifle like this one?"


    Smoke pointed the heavy caliber weapon at Spin Bomb. A weapon so powerful that only the strength of his cybernetic implants could sustain it. She swallowed noisily. A bead of sweat ran down her face.


    What''s wrong with my head to stand up to guys like this? I''m taking too many risks today¡­


    Jarda grabbed the barrel of his partner''s gun and pointed it at the ground. He shook his head no.


    "Wait a minute, Smoke. Spin Bomb has always been nice to us. Who''s this guy? Explain it to us."


    He jumped up, walked towards Akachi and violently removed the cape from his head. The boy remained calm.


    "Who are you, bro? I''ve never seen your ass around here."


    "My name is Akachi."


    "You look like an infiltrator, you know that?"


    "I''m not an insider."


    "Yeah, but that nerd you''re wearing looks like a military man."


    With the barrel of his own gun, Jarda hit the stranger''s metallic arms. With a quick movement, he pointed the gun at Akachi''s face.


    "Can the bird sing? You have one minute to tell me which hole you came out of. If your plot doesn''t convince me, I''ll put a hole in your forehead. I hope you can sing beautifully."

 Song 3: Slum business card

    A tense atmosphere dominated the gate of Chrome Hill. Smoke was laughing from above. He was enjoying the desperation of the residents. No one dared move, no one wanted to be shot.


    Spin Bomb kept one hand on the portable blowtorch and the other on one of his explosives. He didn''t know how he could get out of that situation without spilling blood. Yard and Smoke formed a duo where the word moderation didn''t exist in their vocabulary. They preferred to solve everything by shooting first and asking questions later.


    Jarda kept his gun pointed at Akachi''s sweaty forehead. The boy felt the mad urge to take the gun from the criminal''s hand and reverse the position of the game. But he remembered that something could go wrong and someone could get hurt. As much as he thought about reacting, his body wouldn''t move. He looked like a statue.


    "So, you''re not going to say anything, insider?"


    "I''m not a mole."


    "Speak with your mouth full, boy! Talk like a real man."


    "I got here by chance. I ended up in the dump by accident."


    "Boy, that''s a sad story, isn''t it?"


    Tum! Jarda stabbed Akachi in the temple. He didn''t collapse from the blow, but a trickle of blood ran down to his chin. There was such a silence that you could hear the drop of blood on the floor.


    Akachi didn''t fight back. Nor could she. He felt something throbbing from the center of his chest to his arms and legs. Like an electric current. His fists trembled. He turned his face once more to Jarda. He fixed his eyes on the armed man. Seeing the boy''s confidence, he took a step back.


    "Wow, that''s scary!"


    "Jarda, he saved me from the mutant hyenas back at the dump. He''s not a bad guy. He''s just lost and has no memory."


    "It''s very convenient that he shows up here out of the blue, and still amnesiac. That''s very suspicious. You know that our Chief doesn''t accept betrayal here in the slum. If this guy steps out of line, we''ll have to punish him and you, Spin Bomb. Now, get this asshole out of here before I beat the shit out of him. Oh, and girl, don''t forget to pay the protection fee again. The Boss might decide to charge you interest another way."


    Although several swear words came to mind, Spin Bomb took Akachi by the shoulders and led him silently into the slum. With a piece of his tunic, the outsider wiped off the blood and was led away in the footsteps of the scrap collectors.


    A whole world opened up to Akachi. Chrome Hill was like a transversal city, climbing over everything with its concrete and steel limbs.


    Graffiti decorated the walls of the slab houses. Its neon paint glowed at night, making the urban calligraphy stand out amidst the architectural irregularity. Some of the more elaborate images were made up of graffiti extolling local gang members.


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    The panels, richly adorned with colors, shapes and three-dimensional effects, showed scenes from everyday life, always placing the gangsters in positions of success. They flaunted weapons, jewelry, cars and women. They were represented as users of advanced technologies, with nickel-plated implants and customized cyberware.


    "Akachi, come on, don''t fall behind. You''re very absent-minded."


    "Where are we going?"


    "To Okafor''s store. I need to give him some satisfaction, I couldn''t collect anything today."


    They continued along the streets. Many houses dumped their sewage in the street, leaving a sour ochre smell in the air. The houses were irregularly shaped, as they were built wherever they could be found. The houses were built with blocks and cement and all had a slab roof, which allowed more floors to be built over time.


    Despite being a community that lacked structure and government, there was a network of local businesses. It was possible to have all their services taken care of, from medicine to supermarkets. These services were guaranteed by the Central Command. The criminal organization punished theft and robbery with death.


    Residents were forbidden from contacting the military authorities to stop crimes. Everything was solved by going up the hill and talking to the Chief. The state was seen as an outsider, and there was more fear of the military than support from civilians.


    Different people circulated in the streets. Including foreigners and tourists. The atmosphere was cosmopolitan. You could spot references from all over the world. Tradition and modernity merged into something new, diverse and yet to be known.


    The pair arrived at old Okafor''s store. The elderly black man was working at his armored glass counter. He had gray hair and thick, curly braids that went down to his shoulders. He was fat, with hairy shoulders and chest. He wore an unbuttoned floral shirt and denim shorts with the fly open.


    He had a bionic arm made of steel, and each of his five fingers formed a different tool. With more joints, they could fix a broken device with unparalleled autonomy. The other flesh-and-blood hand provided a little support. When he saw the two visitors, he collected the tools from his bionic arm and removed the electronic magnifying glass from his face.


    "This is my choom. The living always shows up. Have you brought anything good for me?"


    "Unfortunately, not. The sea wasn''t very fishy. But I caught this guy here."


    With a tug, Spin Bomb brought the amnesiac boy close to her."


    "Your output?"


    "Get out, crown! Spin Bomb is not in business."


    "Young people these days and their confirmed bachelorhood. What are you in charge of?"


    "I''m in charge of nothing. Find an outfit that suits this man. His slurry fragrance is making me nauseous. He was lying there in the dump, unconscious. I had to mine him out of a pile of scrap metal. He remembers nothing but his name and that he had a father."


    "That''s what it''s like to be rejected. Sorry, sorry about that."


    While Akachi entertained himself by choosing a new change of clothes, Spin Bomb approached Okafor. He spoke softly:


    "This guy is very strange. He arrived here just like that. He''s got prosthetics I''ve never seen before, and what''s worse, back at the dump, we were attacked by mutant hyenas. We were cornered, they didn''t even have time for us to call out to God. The gate had already been closed by the scrap collectors. Out of nowhere we appeared on the other side, he picked me up and must have teleported, I don''t know."


    "Really, this Akachi is very mysterious. But I''m sorry to tell you, that''s not a cybernetic implant or prosthesis, it''s modular armor. An exoskeleton, take a good look."


    Akachi, shirtless, showed a golden-colored structure covering his limbs, back and chest. There were no wires, pistons, locks or screws. The shape of the exoskeleton was subtle and very ergonomic. The joints ensured free movement for the boy. The model was very organic.


    "It''s certainly military. You''d better keep your little friend in the dark for now¡­"


    "How nice to have a friend who was a former military engineer in the army."


    "Don''t say that out loud, the walls have ears. Oh, Akachi, Miss Explosive''s choom here is my choom too. You can take it, it''s on the house."


    On the young man''s chest was a circular plaque with various ancient symbols. And in the center of it was a lock with a key attached, turned vertically. A new mechanism for Okafor. The old man said goodbye to the pair and nodded. He tried to think back to when he worked with military technology. He smiled when he realized that he had seen it somewhere before.

 Song 4: Peripheral symphony

    Spin Bomb took Akachi to his slab house. He would allow him to sleep there for a while, but not for free. There was no such thing as a free lunch. He took advantage of the extra pair of arms to give his humble abode a once-over. It was a place that hadn''t been cleaned in a long time.


    The rooms in the house were few and cramped. There were lots of things piled on top of each other. An atmosphere of claustrophobia hung in the air. There always seemed to be a lack of space.


    Akachi identified various objects scattered across the floor. He didn''t find any family photos or anything to indicate that someone else lived there. The water and electricity were guaranteed by clandestine connections, but that didn''t stop the Central Command from charging for the services.


    While preparing lunch for both of them, Spin Bomb took something unidentifiable out of the rusty fridge. It stank of sour. Akachi shook his head in the negative as she held it out with both hands. She rolled her eyes and threw the bloody package in the garbage can. They ate some bread and bologna to satisfy their hunger.


    "Better save some money for dinner. In the evening, the restaurants run some specials with food that''s been reused from the kitchens. You can eat something nice without dying of an intestinal infection. Don''t expect any delicacies."


    "All right. Spin Bomb¡­"


    "What is it, Akachi?"


    "Before we entered Chrome Hill, at the graves, I saw a guy. Who is he?"


    The hostess felt a shiver run from her belly to her throat. There was a bad taste in her mouth. She thought the young amnesiac was a bit strange, but from then on things were getting tense.


    "You saw a ghost, that''s all, hehehehe."


    "I''m not kidding. There really was a guy there. I got distracted for a few moments, then he disappeared."


    "Yeah, and what did this ghost of yours look like?"


    Akachi described the stranger. With each piece of information he told her, Spin Bomb frowned even more. Then she stood up, and with her finger pointed at the boy''s face, she shouted:


    "Don''t even joke about it, you understand? Don''t try to make fun of my head. I hope this homeless kid with no memory thing isn''t a scene you''re doing to screw with me, Akachi. Because if it is, I''m going to shove a pyrotechnic sword up your ass! I don''t know how you know about Fenyang, but it''s best not to talk about it around here. He messed with the wrong people, and paid with his life for it. This world doesn''t like heroes."


    His name is Fenyang¡­


    They didn''t discuss it any further. They finished eating and, in silence, each went off to their own corner. Akachi felt bad about the whole thing, he was meddling in something he shouldn''t have. Now he knew the name of the boy who had watched him from the graves. He needed to understand why Fenyang''s image had affected him so much.


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    Spin Bomb decided to sleep on the sofa in the living room after eating raw bologna sandwiches.


    Akachi decided not to disturb her sleep and climbed up onto the slab. A cool breeze stirred her small braids. He wiped the lenses of his glasses on the hem of his shirt. He went to the edge of the slab and sat down. He felt hollow, knowing only his own name and the image of his father in his mind. Life seemed to make no sense.


    The only thing he remembered, if it was even a memory, was meeting his father again. There was a promise made, an agreement made in the middle of an explosion. The scene cut to a crash on a garbage truck and¡­ that was it. Everything became noise and fragmented images like the broken stained glass windows of an old cathedral.


    He looked down the hill. On other slabs, life seemed to be more interesting. Young women stretched out their dark bodies with electrical tape marking their curves. A dog on a leash barked fiercely at boys who ran around playing in the narrow alleyways. On a multi-sports court with rusty railings, two futsal teams faced each other. The ball made a deafening echo every time it hit the ground.


    At the bottom of the hill, there was a road that led to Ilu Nla. But it wasn''t possible to see the metropolis. A long, high wall was a barrier to the view. Akachi turned his head back. He tried to see where the last house on the hill was. He thought he might see something from up there.


    He saw an old, worn leather armchair in the corner of the slab. He went over and sat down. He sneezed because of the dust that came off the furniture when he sat down. He didn''t know why, but he felt worn out.


    He only woke up at night when a hail of bullets echoed through the night. When he opened his eyes, he saw a drone crash on the other side of the hill.


    "What was that?"


    "Relax, it was just the Central Command giving a warning to the military. You know, to mark their territory."


    Spin Bomb was sitting in a chair. The backrest was facing forward. Her head was supported by her arms crossed under her chin. She was holding a disposable Styrofoam cup with steaming coffee. The girl stood with her hips tilted back, her legs spread wide in a daring posture.


    The boy swallowed. She looked very different from when she was dressed as a scrap collector. Her panties were showing at the sides. Barefoot, with curly hair dripping with chocolate-scented hair cream, wearing a lace blouse, she looked very attractive.


    As she sipped her coffee, Spin Bomb looked at Akachi as if to invite her.


    "Come soon, or this goo will get cold. My microwave is fucked."


    The boy noticed that there were two lunch boxes on the floor. Plastic cutlery was on top of them.


    "Thanks. I was really hungry."


    "I''m sorry about what I said this afternoon. Fenyang''s death really touched me. He helped me and my family when we got here. I don''t like to talk about it. It brings back bad memories¡­ ah! Changing the subject, don''t throw the body away. Just wash it and you''ll be able to use it for a while."


    "I''ll keep it. Don''t worry, I was just curious."


    "If you really saw Fenyang there in the cemetery of the damned, you must have some spatial power. My father once told me about them: mediums. I don''t know how to explain it, but it has something to do with talking to spirits, I don''t know. I don''t know if you''ve confused yourself or if you''re just making fun of me. But if you manage to talk to him, tell him that Spin Bomb here told him to take that place."


    Akachi blushed. The young woman just laughed at him.


    This guy wasn''t born and hasn''t lived on the streets. If he doesn''t get smart, he''ll be stopped in a straight line. But then again, he must have some skills. Maybe he''ll help me pay off my debt¡­


    "Listen, Akachi. You''re going to have to help me get some change. You''ve got some jobs around here that you can plug. If you want to go back to Ilu Nla, it''s going to cost a lot. You''ll have to collect a lot of Credbit. The sooner you start, the better."


    "Where can I get these services?"


    "Tomorrow we''ll go to Okafor''s store. He''s always got something good for me, he might throw in something nice for you too."


    "Yes, I will. What I want most is to go back to my father. I don''t remember his face very well, but I know that he needs me, and I need him. It''s like something echoing inside me."


    The two of them stood there gazing at the sky. Sometimes shots were heard and tracer bullets tore through the sky. The graffiti with its neon paint glowed in the dark. Funk dances were held in the sports centers of Chrome Hill. On some slabs, men and women gathered their families to eat a barbecue to the sound of laughter and music.


    It was a nocturnal cacophony, and impressively, it all happened at the same time. Not a note sounded outside the urban melody.

 Song 5: Pulsion of Axé

    At the top of Chrome Hill, the party that had started the night before went on until the early hours of the morning. Some had succumbed to the stupor of drink and drugs. Others still resisted and danced frantically, alone or accompanied.


    At the edge of the pool, the women rolled around with glasses of booze in their hands. The game was to dance without spilling a drop in the water. Anyone who spilled a drink had to take off their bikini. Many spilled drinks on purpose to show off.


    Some drug dealers would shoot their guns to impress the women and also provoke their enemies in the neighboring slums. They showed off their implants, cybernetic prostheses and all kinds of technology. It was a demonstration of power. Their image of supposed superiority reached the Metaverse. The greater the reach of their posts, the greater the power they achieved.


    The slum boss enjoyed filming the sculptural women showing off the elasticity of their bodies at a frenetic pace. It was everything he had dreamed of. He felt like a king. But to his annoyance, a figure appeared without anyone noticing, and just as it appeared, it disappeared.


    Annoyed, he pushed one of the women who tried to stop him from leaving the poolside. In his underwear and barefoot, he went to his mansion and grabbed a bathrobe. He ran his hands through his still wet hair and said:


    "I told you not to interrupt my fun for nothing, Yasini. I hope it''s an emergency."


    He went to the refrigerator, got some ice cubes and prepared a whisky.


    "Sorry, boss. Smoke and Jarda reported the arrival of a new guy on Chrome Hill. His name is Akachi. He could be a militia or government infiltrator."


    A young adult stepped out of the shadows. He was tall and thin for his age. He wore a gray hooded djellaba with the sleeves torn off. Kneeling on the ground, his dark face was shrouded in shadows. His body had patterned scarifications, like tattoos in high relief. Glued to his body, he held a pewter javelin.


    "A new guy, and that worries you? People come here every day, and people die on this hill every day. You''re going crazy!"


    "It''s not about that. My Guardian Ori Zuber is feeling a strong concentration of Ax¨¦. Something latent that is stirring up the Force in the area."


    "Does that mean?"


    "He''s a medium. I don''t think he knows how to control his Force."


    "I don''t know anything about these things you''re talking about. But if it is a medium, try to bring it over to our side."


    "Okay."


    The hill boss returned to his private party.


    Yasini got up from the ground and put the javelin on his shoulder. A spirit appeared floating behind him. He looked the same as the young man in the djellaba, but older and bald. Its scarifications were different. His metaphysical skin on his arms and forehead resembled the scales of a crocodile. His eyes sparked with hatred.


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    "I don''t know why you still insist on working as a bodyguard for that asshole. Isn''t it about time we killed that worm and showed him our power?"


    "I didn''t come here to become head of Chrome Hill. We fled Ilu Nla to survive. We would attract unwanted attention, my irascible Ori Guardian. We''ve come a long way in our condition. The deities must be disappointed in us, Zuber."


    "Fuck the deities, Yasini. They didn''t intervene when that madman staged a coup in Ilu Nla."


    "Whatever, let''s go and find this Akachi guy. I hope he''s really strong, otherwise I''ll kill him."


    ?


    It was early when the pair arrived at Okafor''s store. The old man was arranging things on the shelves, simple things. The coolest merchandise he kept in the back of the store. He was a receiver of stolen technology, from Ilu Nla and other countries. He also served as an informer, knowing everything that was going on in Chrome Hill and the surrounding area.


    When Spin Bomb asked him to suggest some services for Akachi, the old man raised his eyebrows. The boy didn''t look like someone who operated either on the street or on the net. He didn''t look like a netrunner, but he didn''t look like a booster or a posergang. He was too young to be a corp on a solo mission.


    Okafor saw Akachi as an unknown. The most cyberwear the boy had was an exoskeleton. He hardly knew what job to assign to someone as inexperienced and under-resourced as him. He searched his memory for something the newcomer could do without dying and without compromising his own name.


    "You mean the new guy here has to be a merc, don''t you? First I need to know what you can do."


    "I can help in the store¡­"


    "No, kid, I''m serious. I don''t need any helpers here. I take good care of my store on my own. I can do a lot of jobs for you. Do you know how to infiltrate? Mine information in databases? Do you have expertise in firearms or cybertech theft?"


    "When Spin Bomb spoke of service, I was thinking of something less¡­ illegal."


    Okafor and Spin Bomb looked at each other. They laughed so hard at Akachi''s face that they folded up like sheets of paper, snorted and their bellies ached from laughing so hard.


    Akachi''s face was frowning with embarrassment and a bead of sweat was running down his temple.


    This guy is a complete gonk! He won''t last long on the streets.


    "Look, I don''t think there''s anything for you, my boy."


    "Wait, Okafor. I''m not an NGO owner who has to support a guy. Find something he can do, and fast!"


    "Your choom''s not even plugged in and you want him to check out of this world. All right. There''s a reporter coming. He''s a culture vulture, he''s coming tomorrow. One of those journalists who make a living out of reporting sensationalist news. He gave Central Command a lot of money to authorize his stay here. I checked the guy''s rap sheet myself, he''s got a lot of Credibit, but he didn''t find anyone who wanted to accompany him."


    "All right, I think I can do that, Mr. Okafor."


    Okafor went behind the counter. He picked up a dark briefcase. He opened it to reveal a pistol and a comb. Spin Bomb approached, curious.


    "Don''t get excited, this is a 3D printer replica. It''s good for shooting. It has fourteen bullets. Forty-point caliber ammunition. There''s a risk of it jamming, and if it overheats, it''ll go bad."


    He held out the firearm to Akachi. The boy seemed dissatisfied with it.


    "You can''t walk around here unarmed, especially if you want to survive. I don''t know about your past, but now you''re on the margins of society. You''ll need money. If you''re here on the run, or if you want to build a new life, you should start with a gun in your hand. You don''t want to be cornered and unarmed when you have to fight for your life. Take it, kid."


    With a trembling hand, he picked up the gun. It was light, even with the ammunition clip. Okafor showed him how to deactivate the safety catch. He explained that there would be a kick when the gun went off, and to avoid shooting himself.


    "Don''t look at me like that, I''m only joking. Now keep this in your waistband and only pull it out to finish off your enemy."


    "I''ll live to see my father again."


    "That''s how you say it, kid."

 Song 6: Synchronized soul

    Akachi said goodbye to Spin Bomb in front of Okafor''s store. The girl asked where he was going so soon, but the young man replied that he was going for a walk. The scrap collector shrugged. He had work to do, and he wasn''t going to act as the stranger''s tour guide.


    Adjusting his glasses, the young man headed towards the gate that led to the dump road. He couldn''t believe he was seeing spirits. He was going to get this story straight. If Spin Bomb wasn''t making fun of him, he probably had some unknown gift. If only he knew something more about himself than his name, the mystery would be solved more quickly.


    Some of the collectors greeted him along the way. Some wore heavy gray raincoats, others blue industrial overalls. Their faces were hidden by gas masks or bandanas tied to protect their airways from the toxic gases. They all wore thick gloves and rubber boots.


    An elderly man pushed a square wheelbarrow. Rust was peeling off the old paintwork, giving it the appearance of something in disrepair. The tire squealed with every meter. The old man noticed that someone else was walking towards the gate.


    "Oh! It''s you, Spin Bomb''s friend. Thanks for saving that little match head. The slum was going to lose a very entertaining character, hohoho."


    "No need to thank me, I don''t know how I did it. I thought those animals were going to finish us off."


    The young man put his hand behind the back of his head, smoothing out the strands of hair that shivered at the thought of the mutant hyenas'' fangs.


    "You seem to ignore the dangers of this place, my son. But if this old man has to give you one piece of advice, it would be this: keep your eyes open. Chrome Hill is controlled by a criminal faction. Don''t defy them, but don''t give in to their whims either. Otherwise, your path will be full of pain."


    Akachi stopped walking and let the old man take a few steps forward.


    "What, I thought you were going to the dump to collect scrap metal? I found the way you''re dressed strange."


    "I wasn''t going to the dump. I came here to¡­ reflect."


    "This cemetery reminds me less of the deaths I''ve witnessed all these years, and more of the good times. The slum wasn''t this desert of dreams. There was violence, it''s true. But the way we resolved conflicts didn''t involve shooting first and asking questions later. Arf! Stay alive, Akachi."


    The old man dragged the wheelbarrow and followed the red gravel road.


    The boy looked up the slope. He began to climb with his body leaning forward. He grabbed hold of a bush that stubbornly grew in the aridity, until he reached the part where the graves were. There were dozens of them.


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    He walked over to the crossed wooden sticks with their handles tied with ribbons. The one on the right had navy blue ribbons, the one on the left had red ribbons. He touched them. He felt a shiver run down his spine.


    "BUUUUUUU!"


    "Argh, damn! What a fright!"


    Appearing behind the young man was the same boy he had seen in the graves wearing a sweatshirt and a headband.


    "Sorry, kid. You should see your face now, bro. Wait, I didn''t faint."


    The boy took two steps back. That throbbing electric current ran through his body from top to bottom again. A strange sensation of heightened senses, of power filling his muscles, tissues and senses.


    What is happening to me anyway?


    "Are you Fenyang?"


    "Wait a minute, besides seeing me, you know my name? What do you know, bro, you really are a medium. Oh yeah! You''re with Spin Bomb, that walking time bomb. Don''t tell her, please."


    "What''s a medium?"


    Fenyang dropped his chin. He couldn''t admit that someone could see the soul of a dead person and not know how they did it. Even though he had no involvement with ancestral cults, even he knew what a medium''s abilities were. However, he put things into perspective. In spirit, he had witnessed the changing of the times.


    "You''re a gonk, kid! How can you be something and not know what it means?"


    "I only found out I was a medium now, give me a break, will you?"


    "Our discussion will have to wait for another time, look who''s arrived¡­"


    The young man called Smoke was laughing a few meters away. Jarda was right next to him. He grimaced, not understanding what he was witnessing.


    "Wait, were you standing there listening to me all this time?"


    "We walk wherever we want, we run this fucking hill! The guy talks to himself, Jarda. There''s every neighborhood nut who shows up here."


    "It''s my little friend Smoke. He seems to have a great interest in Fenyang. Could he be a relative out for revenge?"


    "This asshole here? No way. This Akachi guy is crazy enough to throw rocks at airplanes. But just in case, we''d better finish him off."


    "Our boss didn''t tell us to take his life, but he didn''t stop us from having fun. Tell you what, I''m going to shoot you three times with a rifle. If you manage to dodge, we''ll let you go back to Spin Bomb bitch."


    Fenyang stood next to Akachi. He could feel his spiritual mass pulsating. Even dead, he had never felt so alive. He grabbed the sticks and pulled out an astral version of the objects. He looked at Akachi and said:


    "Kid, I''m going to teach you how to teach an asshole a lesson. Take the wooden sticks, they should still fit. Follow me."


    Akachi picked up the wooden sticks from the floor. He reproduced Fenyang''s fighting pose.


    "Come on, Yard. The guy wants to fight me with two toothpicks."


    "I don''t want to hurt you"


    Despite the loud laughter of his attackers, he didn''t let himself get rattled. He didn''t want to use his strength to attack them. He still felt the urge to make the pair swallow their pride. Fenyang''s spirit and Akachi''s spirit were in sync, and when they acted, they would do something amazing.

 Song 7: The bullets course diverts the trajectory of life

    "You can still give up Smoke¡­"


    Akachi repeated Fenyang''s stance. He had no memories related to martial arts. He had no time for memories. A young man had a .50 caliber anti-material rifle pointed at his body. Any false step and a cartridge would spiral through him from side to side.


    Jarda couldn''t stand his anxiety. He couldn''t believe how calm the target was. The stranger only had two wooden sticks. He didn''t look like he knew how to fight, nor did he have an impressive physique.


    Smoke was in a frenzy. He loved shooting with his gun. When he put his finger on the trigger, he felt powerful. It was a way of showing the mute who was in charge here. No one else could hurt him or humiliate him. He had a semi-automatic rifle whose cartridge was almost the size of a soda bottle.


    "Ready? Here goes!"


    He fired in Akachi''s direction. But the shot missed him. The boy dodged so quickly that he couldn''t see the movement.


    Smoke took a step back due to the recoil of the gun. He couldn''t believe he had missed from that distance.


    "Oh, well done! Let''s see if you can escape once."


    "Get ready, Akachi. Now he''s going to unload the magazine."


    The rifle''s magazine held ten rounds and fired one projectile every two turns. With each shot, Akachi ducked and took a step closer to the teenager with the rifle in his hand. On the last shot, the gun jammed. Smoke was so desperate that he didn''t give up. He tried to jab Akachi in the stomach.


    Before he could complete the move, the young man deflected the blow with one of his sticks. With the other, he hit Smoke''s chin. The impact was so strong that the wood shattered and knocked two teeth out of the young offender''s mouth. Smoke collapsed on the clay soil.


    Yard ran to his companion. Blood was gushing from the corner of his mouth. Smoke had fainted and wasn''t responding to his colleague''s calls.


    "Wake up, kid. Get up. Holy shit! Akachi, you almost killed that guy."


    "I didn''t want to hurt anyone. I even asked him to give up. But with a gun in his hand, everyone thinks he''s the man."


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    "What? I should be shoving lead in your face, you fool."


    He pulled a pistol from his waist and pointed it in the direction of the boy who had knocked out his friend. Akachi kept his eyes fixed on Jarda. That greenish glow swirling around the boy''s eyes made him shiver. It was an imposing force that energized his body, exuding an aura of grandeur.


    What kind of person are you, Akachi? How can someone with two pieces of wood defeat someone with an anti-material rifle?


    He lowered his face, fearing what might happen. He put the pistol away. He put the strap on the rifle and put it on his back. He grabbed Smoke''s body and put it on his shoulder. Faint as he was, he looked like a sack of potatoes. He went down the slope, slipping on some sections to get to the gravel road more quickly. He never looked back.


    Akachi felt dizzy for a moment. It was as if something had detached from his skin. He fell to the ground. Fenyang leaned over him with a smile. One of the sticks he was holding was broken in half.


    "You mean that what happens in the real world also affects the spiritual world?"


    "Yes, Akachi. We''ve entered into a kind of spiritual synchronicity. You were able to mirror my movements. I could even say that you learned by intuition. You have a latent capacity in you. A force that can be channeled. I have no knowledge of ancestral worship to tell you how to develop your Ax¨¦, but I can teach you maculel¨º. I''ll perfect your technique. You fight well, you just don''t have much grace in your hips."


    Akachi smiled. It was true. He had done something incredible that morning. When he was challenging Smoke, he felt powerful. As if he were someone else. It was a good feeling.


    "All right, I''ll agree to be trained by you."


    I''m in a place where the dangers are only going to increase. I need to protect myself, otherwise I won''t go back to Ilu Nla where my father probably is. If I learn to fight, I won''t be so helpless, and I''ll be able to earn money from the services Okafor provides.


    "Get some new sticks to train with. These are no longer any good. Maculel¨º is a martial art style that needs them to extend the reach of the arms."


    "Of course¡­ I think we should find somewhere further away to train. Otherwise, we''ll keep getting unwanted visitors."


    "That''s right, there''s nothing worse for training than distractions. Behind this hill there''s a flat spot, very good for those who want to exercise. I used to train here every day."


    "Okay. I''ll come every day, whenever I''m not involved in some service¡­"


    "If you get involved with the guys from Central Command, don''t come anymore. I won''t train someone to use the martial art I inherited to take the lives of innocent people."


    Fenyang said this with irritation in his voice. There was an audible tone of resentment. Before Akachi could retort, he disappeared into thin air.


    The boy planted his stick in the ground, in the same place where he had picked up the weapon. He descended the slope.


    What neither Fenyang nor Akachi had realized was that two figures were watching them. Yasini and Zuber were amazed at how the situation was developing. Guardian Ori licked his thick lips with his pointed tongue. He was as excited as ever.


    "He performed a perfect spiritual synchronicity with a spirit outside his ancestry. How many people do you know who could do something like that, Yasini?"


    "Only those who possess one of the Seven Keys. But that''s just speculation. He could be a relative of Fenyang."


    "Too close to be classified as an ancestor suitable for mediumistic exercises. We need to get close to him and find out what secret he''s keeping. When he lets his guard down, we''ll seize the chance."

 Song 8: Dreams burn like gunpowder

    Spin Bomb looked at the old wall clock with its digital display. Akachi hadn''t arrived. She didn''t want to show any concern. She was too busy. She had received a lot of money in advance from illegal fishermen to produce a dozen bombs for fishing with bombs. She was unfocused and mis-measured the ingredients.


    She had experience in making explosives, and wouldn''t admit to making mistakes in the one thing she knew how to do so well. Production required time and skill. The fireworks craftsman had to be careful, otherwise he could cause a huge explosion when making a heavy firework.


    Outside, in the small yard, a copper pot cooked thirty-centimeter pieces of bamboo. This increased the drying process of the artifact. After that, the bamboo tubes were tied together with cerol, string greased with glue and iron powder. This would prevent them from cracking after being filled.


    Spin Bomb then closed the bamboo tubes with the cerol already wrapped around them. He sat on the stool and supported the tube between his feet. He punched the sifted dry clay into the bamboo. With a hammer, he hit the clay with a small steel cylinder so that it would settle at the bottom of the tube.


    After making the base of the firework sword, the firework maker poured gunpowder and iron filings that she had collected with a spoon into a plastic bowl on the side. She repeated the process until she had three layers. With an aluminum skewer, Spin Bomb inserted the wick.


    The front door opened. She stopped what she was doing and tilted her head to see who it was.


    "Akachi, is that you?"


    "Yes, it''s me. Sorry I''m late for lunch."


    "Relax, I''ll order something on the app in a bit. You took too long on the street. I hope you didn''t get into any trouble."


    Akachi looked around. There were a hundred fireworks ready.


    "Wow, how many bombs!"


    "They''re not just bombs, they''re fireworks swords. Each one has a different function. I attached a different colored string to each one to remind me of its function."


    "What if you''re in a situation where you can''t see anything?"


    "Each one is still a different size. For example, the green ones have a single barrel of gunpowder. They''re fireworks swords with high explosive power. Efficient for opening stubborn doors or destroying vehicles. The yellow ones are throwing swords. They can knock out a grown man if hit on the head, not to mention the fact that they whirl around sending sparks everywhere. They also serve as a distraction. The blue ones are small. There''s cotton-powder inside them and they produce a good smoke screen. I could use them in an escape. This mine here is prepared. Speaking of which, where have you been all morning?"


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    Akachi stared at her. The boy looked tired. His eyes were dead, as if he had run out of batteries.


    "I had a¡­ setback before I came here. Spin Bomb, listen to me. I know it sounds absurd, but I have some abilities. A power that allows me to see and talk to the dead. I went to the cemetery, I talked to Fenyang."


    Spin Bomb put down his tools. He wrapped his hands around his body. Her face emanated a deep sadness. Her lips trembled, and she bit them to hold back the sobs.


    "How can you prove it?"


    "He helped me fight back an attack by Smoke and Yard. He asked me to mirror his maculel¨º moves."


    Akachi repeated the moves he had made mimicking Fenyang. The girl''s eyes watered. She went out into the yard. After a couple of minutes, she came back with red, swollen eyes. She seemed to have cried herself.


    "Fenyang, that idiot! He had come here to Chrome Hill with one hand in front of him and the other behind. He liked reggae and hummed the music in the streets. He was a kind guy and helped everyone on the hill. His dream was to set up a maculel¨º academy. He believed that martial arts could change people''s lives, transform them into something better. The community embraced Fenyang''s dream. They built a sports center through a joint effort. He taught the young people of the community for free. I was one of his students, one of the hardest working."


    Spin Bomb reported that this began to annoy the local drug dealers. Back then, they didn''t have as much power as they do today. There were many factions fighting for domination of the Slum. They tried to coerce Fenyang into selling drugs at the sports center, but he refused. The center was demolished with bulldozers.


    The community watched passively. After that, Fenyang disappeared from the Slum. He started acting differently. He started hunting down the local drug dealers one by one. The criminals feared a popular uprising and banded together. They cowardly murdered the vigilante with a traitorous shot in the back.


    After that, everyone went back to their lives of being oppressed by urban violence. The Central Command instituted iron law in Chrome Hill. It controlled all the streets; the water, energy and sewage services; charged protection fees; instituted curfews; created courts with arbitrary trials and decreed mourning which everyone had to carry out at the risk of death.


    "You''re being harsh on Fenyang, Spin Bomb. He put his trust in your future, he put his life at risk."


    "Actually, I don''t hate Fenyang, Akachi. I hate how his image reminds me of dreams that can''t come true. After he died, and the Central Command took over the Slum, they demanded that my clan make explosives for them. They refused and were expelled from the Slum. But not me, Akachi, I stayed here in the Slum. I''m a coward. I left my clan behind to live like a¡­"


    The tears could no longer be contained. They poured down like cascades of disappointment. The pain was palpable. There was a sincerity in her words. Spin Bomb was disappointed in herself.


    "Now I have to make a hundred fireworks every month and give them to these cretins. I hate that! Crafting swords is an ancient trade, and a dangerous one too. In our community, they weren''t used to kill or injure people. Accidents happened to those who made them and tried to manipulate them in pyrotechnic shows in the streets on our clan''s festive dates. We were sent away from Ilu Nla. The government banned the practice, and when my clan flouted the measures, we were banished from the city and came to live here. After that, life turned to shit¡­"


    Akachi had nothing to say. He didn''t know how to comfort Spin Bomb. He clenched his fists tightly. There was something he could do to change his reality. First, strengthen himself to face the future challenges that would come on his journey. Finally, to return to Ilu Nla and find his father again.

 Song 9: The vulture landing

    It took the culture vulture two days to land on Chrome Hill. He had made Okafor a fixer in order to get into the slum and obtain a bodyguard. He wanted to make a mini-documentary about the mutant hyenas. These animals were very aggressive; even if he was protected in a vehicle, something could go wrong.


    Even though he was on time, he was about three hours late. Even he made a triumphant entrance piloting a spin bike. He landed in the middle of a multi-sports court, making the futsal players jump over the rusty railings.


    The culture vulture descended with an affected air, accompanied by his cameraman. His camera was a remote-controlled drone that caused laughter among the residents. Drones could already be controlled remotely by brain waves. With a small implant and an app installed, the guy could maneuver the thing in the blink of an eye.


    The culture vulture called himself the Happy Prince, his digital influencer name. He had been born as a phenomenon of the lownet, a place in the metaverse frequented by the lower classes, where subcelebrities stood out by producing appealing content. Now the media nobleman was a high-ranking member of Ilu Nla''s state-owned NeTV.


    Akachi, Spin Bomb and Okafor crossed two blocks to reach the journalist. All around him, a crowd gathered to take selfies. Everyone wanted to post a 3D photo on their social media profiles in the metaverse.


    After elbowing, pushing and threatening, the trio pulled the Happy Prince and his personal cameraman out of the crowd.


    "Excuse me, my followers. Irreducible fans of my friendliness, wait for my next posts on the networks, wow!"


    "Happy Prince, we''d better get out of this place. I can''t wait for these people to hit us."


    "Ufufufufufufu, my followers would never do that. They''re pure love and peace, Okafor, my little darling."


    ?


    The five of them were at a table in a bar on the second floor of a slab house, above a mezzanine. It was a restricted-access establishment, known only to tourists and media personalities. They sat on rusty steel chairs that creaked when they moved. The tables were made of wooden spools. In front of them was a wall of two-way armored glass. You could see all the movement on the street.


    The walls had long-play covers printed on them like post-modern paintings. A statuette of an old and famous movie award had been graffitied and decorated with straw props, conch shells and rosaries of red seeds and jadeites.


    The Happy Prince found everything very conceptual, with a vintage feel. An atmosphere of the 20th century in the present, and the present was long gone.


    "So, my loves, what did you think of the point?"


    Okafor was impressed. He had lived in Chrome Hill for years, and even though he was relatively well-connected, he didn''t know about this cultural oasis.


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    Spin Bomb and Akachi were more impressed by the Happy Prince. He was a typical exotic. He had been bio-sculpted to look like a feline. He had cat ears and a small, triangular nose. His iris was golden yellow and his pupil was a thin, vertical line.


    He wore a purple velvet one-button suit. He was tall. His upper body was small, broad and well-muscled. In contrast, his legs were long and slender. He wore floral-print loafers with a polished metal toe. The guy was visual pollution in person.


    "Well, it''s different¡­ isn''t it, Akachi?"


    "Yeah¡­ Spin Bomb¡­ put different in that. I think¡­"


    "This bar is a stronghold of celebrities addicted to customized drugs. I used to come here a lot in my days as a famous subfive."


    A robot waiter came to the table. He poured drinks and a bottle of beer for Okafor. The more they drank, the louder and more irritating the Happy Prince''s voice became. He was spreading.


    Spin Bomb took advantage of the fact that he was already drunk enough, and asked about the job:


    "You didn''t call us here just to drink. Mutant hyenas aren''t that attractive to attract the attention of a famous journalist like the Happy Prince."


    "Miss, it''s no wonder they call you Spin Bomb. You''re very explosive, cabummmm! That''s right. I want something more specific from our hyena¡¯s mutatis mutandis, I want to record their breeding period. Your sexy mating dance, and¡­"


    The man didn''t finish. Spin Bomb and Akachi had their heads down and were suffering from bouts of vomiting.


    "Holy shit! Look what this guy wants to record. What kind of pervert are you?"


    "Look Spin Bomb, I don''t even want to imagine those things¡­"


    "What silly children. There are lots of videos that pay a lot of money on our subscription channel. The state knows how to make money, so stay there and sleep on it."


    "You should have charged for unhealthiness, Okafor. And you got Akachi in on it."


    Prince Happy looked at Akachi, then at Spin Bomb. He gave a mischievous smile that caused the pair enormous embarrassment. That cat-like stare gave away a series of silent speculations. The climactic pie had already been served, but no one dared to eat it. Prince Happy observed that Akachi had a weefle look on his face.


    "Are you ready for this mission, sweetie?"


    "Who are you¡­"


    "Of course, he is. Show him, Akachi."


    The boy pulled out the high-density polymer pistol that Okafor had given him. Only the magazine clicked and collapsed on the boy''s foot. He dropped the firearm on the table, picked up his foot and put it on the table to blow on it like a Megadrive cartridge. He received a Spin Bomb for his lack of table manners.


    The cameraman picked up the pistol with the fingers of his pincer-like hand and swung it from side to side:


    "My cousin has one of these. The difference is that he''s five years old."


    On the outside, Prince Happy remained calm. Inside, he was a nervous wreck. His life had been entrusted to a gonk, a merc noob who would be zeroed out the first time he made a mistake. He was dissatisfied, but he couldn''t back down. He had his own mission to complete.


    Oh, by the gods of social cancellation, they''re complete bourgy in this slum. What would they say about me in the metropolis after I''d reached my peak?


    "Considering Akachi''s inexperience, I''ll give him some 2,500 Credibits. Half now, half when I come back alive¡­ if I do¡­"


    "What a pittance!"


    "It''s true, Spin Bomb. The rate has gone up, our detonation girl here is going to get in on the act. Chrome Hill is dangerous. The militia are making moves to take control of our slum. Believe me, you''d better take her."


    "Okay, Okafor. I get it. 3,000 Credibits, and that''s it."


    Okafor, Akachi and Spin Bomb slammed their palms together on the table and said:


    "I accept!"

 Song 10: The vertex of the conflict

    A quartet was crossing the imaginary line that served as the border between Chrome Hill and the Burned Circuit slum complex. They passed through the huge concrete manholes built beneath the abandoned sewage treatment center. The construction was intended to improve sanitation in the slums, but was never completed.


    The leader of the group was a very thin man, full of modern, poorly installed implants. The cybertechs made his arms disproportionate to his body. The ripper had done a terrible job on him. He had an inverted mohawk, with spiky strands dyed blonde. He had deep dark circles under his eyes and his left eye vibrated.


    He was addicted to customized drugs, braindance and joytoy. He would submerge himself in anything that gave him immediate pleasure. He couldn''t get out of bed unless he was high on adrenaline. He was a typical booster with his leather and studded clothes, and forced his henchmen to dress the same.


    Even though everyone thought he was a complete asshole, they did what he told them. He was Ata''s little brother, the most fucked-up guy at the Cupola of the Fourth Estate militia. As if he were the bossy little king, he gave orders to the men who were supposed to be his bodyguards, or rather babysitters.


    "So far, I don''t understand why you brought us here, boss?"


    "Jesus, bro! Are you stupid? Let''s test the new long-range rifles on the mutant hyenas. Those fucking animals sleep here."


    "But, boss, these things run around in packs and could slaughter us. Besides, we''re in the Central Command area. They have a medium who''s very scary."


    Chekandino advanced on the man. He punched him in the stomach and made him throw up his breakfast.


    "Fuck them! All ours and none of theirs, my brother. You''re my gang, you have to obey your boss. Unless you want to contradict me, I could tell my little brother Ata."


    "No, you don''t have to, boss. We''ll do whatever you want. We''re going to have a lot of fun shooting those bugs.


    "That''s better."


    ?


    Smoke was facing the public restroom. The toilets were dirty, water was pooling on the floor and only one tap was working. The boy stuck his fingers inside his mouth and groped for the two teeth he had lost. He was wearing a neck brace to prevent his chin from moving.


    Yard was outside. He shook his head impatiently.


    "Come on, Smoke, are you putting on makeup? You''re ugly from birth. Nothing''s going to improve that ugly face."


    "Fuck you, Jarda! You stood there with the guy in your hand and didn''t have the guts to shoot the son of a bitch. Aren''t you a fucking man?"


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    "Sorry, I didn''t react at the time."


    "Oh, fuck off!"


    He left the bathroom. His eyes were deep-set, the irises as red as hot coals. He was taking intramuscular painkillers. He was the kind of person who hated pain.


    "You''ve failed."


    The two of them looked up at the ceiling of the public restroom. Yasini was there with his Ori Guardian. The pair of drug dealers couldn''t see him, they didn''t have the gift of mediumship. They were ignorant of the spiritual phenomena that surrounded the world in which they lived.


    "Damn, this guy only scares us, Smoke."


    "Shit, he looks like an ominous ghost."


    "Leave the new guy to me, I have plans for him."


    "Plans for him? Hunf! That''s if I don''t kill him first. Akachi knocked out two of my teeth. I should shoot that damned four-eyes a couple of times."


    Yasini jumped between the two young men. He pulled out his scabbard and pointed the blade at Smoke''s throat.


    "The hill boss has decided. Stay out of this."


    "Go to hell!"


    Smoke pulled a firearm from his waistband. Jarda, on impulse, did the same. Yasini stood up slowly. At no point did she feel at a disadvantage. The two started shooting at the medium. He didn''t react at any point and chanted a few verses.


    "Zuber of the iron skin, who defied an entire army with a javelin. Grant me your strength, the unbreakable will that sustains your victory. Firm spirit."


    The Guardian Ori Zuber entered into spiritual synchrony with his medium. He began to reproduce Yasini''s movements and gradually overlapped the young adult''s body. Until the two became one. Their Ax¨¦ was shared. Yasini''s skin became as tough as iron, and the projectiles hit his body and fell to the ground.


    "What''s that, man? His skin is armored."


    "Idiots, we won''t be harmed by firearms."


    With a swift movement of the javelin, Yasini with his Ori Guardian incorporated knocked out the two drug dealers with extreme violence. Zuber left his medium''s body after the brief fight. He looked at the drug dealers with contempt.


    "You trash, if you knew the power of ancestry and what it can do, you wouldn''t challenge us."


    "You took it too hard with him, Zuber. They''re no threat to us."


    "We always have to set an example, otherwise they''ll continue to disrespect us. Forget that rabble, let''s go after Akachi. We need to stay on his tail."


    ?


    Prince Happy looked at the vehicle that would take the four of them on their post-modern safari. It was a red buggy with four seats, covered with a steel cage and carbon fiber grille. Four-wheel drive, powered by hydrogen. The car had been tuned by Okafor.


    "So, what did you think?"


    I''ve seen more beautiful shark cages...


    "Who''s going to drive this thing?"


    "Me, give me the key, Okafor."


    The old man threw the key to Spin Bomb. The cage opened gull-wing style. Spin Bomb took the wheel, Prince Happy was in the passenger seat. The cameraman and Akachi sat in the back seat. It wasn''t spacious or comfortable, but they all fit. After unlocking the car, he turned on the electronic key on the LED contact.


    The buggy''s engine rumbled like a rhino in armor. Spin Bomb put his foot on the gas. He drove through the streets like a getaway driver on the run from the police. He sped through the streets, making the car skid on the bends. No one in the buggy felt safe, but the girl was having as much fun as ever.


    They drove through the gates towards the dump. They passed the road at high speed. With their hearts leaping out of their mouths, they reached the piles of scrap metal. Driving through them, Spin Bomb took the direction of the abandoned sewage treatment plant.

 Song 11: Naughty sucker!

    Chekandino had fun shooting at the poor animals. The projectiles passed through their fur, covered in purulent tumors. His companions pretended to have fun machine-gunning and throwing thermite grenades. The heat melted the animals like paper. The pack ran fearfully through the corridors of the abandoned structure. They jumped out of the windows. Those who couldn''t run were riddled with bullets.


    Suddenly, the booster heard the roar of an engine. He crept through the corridors. A group of people had arrived at the facility. Chekandino licked his lips when he saw Spin Bomb. The trio of cronies came up to him and looked at the new arrivals.


    "My goodness! That''s the Happy Prince over there. I follow him on the metaverse''s social networks."


    "That narcissistic bio-sculpted son of a bitch. We could kidnap him and ask for ten million Credibits."


    "Little boss, Ata won''t like that at all."


    "If you help me, I''ll let you stuff that bitch over there."


    The trio noticed Spin Bomb''s presence. They looked at each other and nodded in agreement. They pointed their weapons in the direction of the group coming from Chrome Hill. They unleashed their artillery on the unsuspecting visitors. Spin Bomb dragged Akachi behind a concrete pillar. Prince Happy jumped into an empty tank.


    "Fire on them, boys."


    ?


    The hydro buggy arrived at a huge iron gate tied with rusty chains. The walls surrounding the place had barbed wires at the top. Chunks of the wall had been smashed down with sledgehammers by locals who had stolen things from the site. A red sign read in large yellow letters:


    AREA UNDER CONSTRUCTION


    NO ENTRY WITHOUT AUTHORIZATION


    PROPERTY OF THE STATE OF ILU NLA.


    "Why did you bring us here, sweetie?"


    "This place was supposed to be a sewage treatment plant. But the state decided that we didn''t deserve it, and left it half-finished. The mutant hyenas have taken over the place. During the day, they hunt through the dump. However, the place where they live and sleep is here."


    "Are you recording this?"


    "Yes, Happy Prince."


    Accelerating the car, Spin Bomb broke the chains and tore down the gates. He drove up to the empty reservoirs. Inside, there was stale water from some rain, dried leaves and dust. Rotting building materials could be seen everywhere. The paint on the walls of the facility had already peeled. Everything looked ruined.


    After an explosion, high-pitched howls were heard inside the central building. Leaping through the glass, the pack ran towards Akachi and the others. On instinct, the young man grabbed his pistol and fired a shot into the air. The animals ran past them. They were completely ignored.


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    A bead of sweat ran down Akachi''s face. Spin Bomb slapped the boy on the back of the head.


    "This lot of animals are running towards us and you shoot them up, wasting all the ammunition we don''t have? Injured!"


    "Sorry¡­"


    Spin Bomb stuck his tongue out at Akachi. She was more concerned about what had caused the pack of hyenas to flee their habitat. She swore she heard an explosion inside the building. From the high-pitched sound that echoed after the initial explosion, it must have been thermite. He didn''t have time to think about it.


    The cameraman''s head exploded in a huge bloodstain. The artisan only had time to drag Akachi by the collar of his jacket. They stood behind an old pillar. He looked over, Prince Happy had escaped too. He had thrown himself into one of the reservoirs.


    "Happy Prince, we have to get back to the hydro."


    "All that, sweetie."


    "You''re not getting away from me, baby!"


    From inside the building, Chekandino grabbed a thermite grenade launcher with a caliber of forty millimeters, and fired several times at the buggy.


    The car exploded and completely melted in a flash of red. Seeing this, Spin Bomb started pulling at his hair in despair.


    Damn you! Okafor is going to lower our percentage to charge for the damage.


    Akachi tried to look at his attackers. They had unloaded their ammunition magazines into the pillar. It was no longer safe to stay there. Inside the building, the criminals laughed at the trio''s desperation.


    "Akachi, I know you don''t like using firearms. But these guys are from the neighboring slum, rivals from Chrome Hill. They''re not going to shoot to scare us, they''re going to shoot to kill. If one of them appears in front of you, shoot!"


    Spin Bomb picked up his portable torch. It ignited with the click of a button.


    "Wait, what are you going to do?"


    "Make sure we get out of this alive. When the smoke screen goes up, put your finger on the trigger. Unload the ammunition on those bastards!"


    The artisan picked up several blue swords and threw them in front of the window where the gunmen were. Thick gray smoke covered the vision of Chekandino and his men. They fired wildly.


    Akachi took aim at the window and counterattacked. The enemies sneaked around the walls to protect themselves.


    Spin Bomb took advantage of the distraction caused by his friend. He picked up a tube similar to toothpaste. He squeezed its sticky contents onto a green artificer''s sword.


    "What are you doing?"


    "That''s jackfruit mist. It''s a natural glue extracted from the latex of the fruit. People in the slum use it to catch wild birds."


    She lit the fuse of the bomb. When the curtain came down, she threw the thing out of the window. Chekandino had returned to his firing post. When he saw the bamboo tube approaching, he put his arm out in front of him in an impulsive gesture of self-protection. The bomb stuck in his arm. He tried to pull it out, but couldn''t.


    The firework sword exploded, taking both his arms with it. The criminal fell unconscious to the floor. His henchmen dragged his body down the corridors and stairs until they left the building. That would be bad for them. Ata''s younger brother had lost his cybertechs through idiocy.


    Ata''s overprotection of his brother wouldn''t allow him to understand that everything had been caused by Chekandino. Someone would be punished and it wouldn''t be his spoiled brother.


    After the dust had settled, Principe Feliz climbed out of the reservoir. He returned to Spin Bomb and Akachi. His countenance was spiteful.


    "Damn you, you killed my cameraman."


    "We''re sorry, Prince Happy. That guy was Chekandino, Ata''s brother. We''re screwed, Akachi. When this gets back to the hill bosses, they''ll offer us up as a sacrifice."


    "Where did these guys come from, Spin Bomb?"


    "They''re from the Burned Circuit Complex. Ata is part of the Cupola, he''s the arms dealer for the Fourth Estate militia. We''d better leave, and pray that he dies on the way back, otherwise there''ll be a war between the Central Command and the militia."

 Song 12: Horizon of tragedy

    Spin Bomb, Akachi and Prince Happy returned to Okafor''s store in the late afternoon. They reported that someone had died. The journalist and digital influencer called a funeral company to transfer the cameraman''s body. He shouted into his smartphone: the funeral home didn''t want to go to Chrome Hill with its helicopter.


    Old Okafor was angry at having lost his hydro-tuned buggy. At the same time, he was relieved that the pair hadn''t died. But he couldn''t help charging for the damage. His commission would increase. He smoothed his palms and, with a grim look on his face, said:


    "Hohohoho, your percentage will decrease. You know, choom transport destruction rate."


    "What? But you came, so we''ll never raise enough money to get into Ilu Nla."


    Prince Happy could hardly believe his ears. Two mercenaries from a favela wanting to enter the metropolis. They had no idea of the difficulties they would face.


    "You want to enter Ilu Nla? Only illegally, sweethearts! Every day people are purged from the city. Only wealthy people or renowned scientists have visas to enter. Those who try to immigrate in the shadow of the state, well, they meet a bitter end."


    "What are the chances of sneaking in, Prince Happy?"


    "Well, getting in like that isn''t impossible, my friend Okafor. It is, however, very difficult."


    Prince Happy explained in detail the ways of illegal immigration, and their risks. One of these ways was via the coast, more precisely via the Conch Bay. Ilu Nla''s territorial waters were guarded by two aircraft carriers. The Navy and the Coast Guard watch the sea day and night, making any infiltration difficult.


    Another way was by river. Two rivers flowed from nearby mountains and cut through the city. To reduce the risk of flooding, pipelines were built throughout history to drain the water safely. It was an unsafe and rat-infested place. A lot of garbage was thrown into the pipes, leaving some areas clogged.


    Barrier systems and grids had been set up to retain the garbage thrown in by the communities, which made the crossing too dangerous. Individuals invading Ilu Nla through the pipelines were likely to drown in one of these waste containment barriers.


    The third, and most plausible of all, was a clandestine fighting tournament. It took place underground and was sanctioned by the Ilu Nla authorities. It was organized by one of the three members of the Phalanx. The tournament guaranteed the winner a way up to the metropolis and a contract with the Armed Forces.


    "Wait, what''s the Phalanx?"


    "Akachi, you look like a noob at everything, my little love. The Phalanx is a group made up of the current ruler''s best cyber soldiers. It''s the army''s elite. They have been genetically enhanced so that they are not dependent on combat drugs. They have the best armor, with built-in laser weaponry and drones guided by brain waves."


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    The young amnesiac''s eyes lit up. There was a way into the city, and with the permission of the Army''s top brass. To do so, the bidders had to face a series of deadly battles. It was a challenge, no doubt. However, the goal of returning to his father was stronger.


    "I wanted to try!"


    "Really, Akachi? Didn''t you hear what the Happy Prince said? In your current state, you''ll die in the first round. Besides, the tournament isn''t what you think. There are bets involved. If the house matches the outcome, they''ll probably do everything they can to kill you."


    "Okafor, I need to find my father again. I know he''s out there in the metropolis somewhere. We were separated, I''ve lost my memory. But my connection with him remains strong. I feel that he''s looking for me too."


    "I don''t agree, Akachi. You''re too naive. Don''t get too emotional! You don''t even have a cybernetic implant, nor do you have any fighting skills. You can''t even shoot. I''m sorry, I didn''t mean to discourage you. I know how important family is. But don''t act without thinking."


    Prince Happy put the back of his left hand under his chin and watched Akachi frown. He rolled his eyes. He hated to see such a cute young man die. But it could be fun. He smiled inside.


    "Listen, my sweet. There''s a man called Tuponili. He''s a fighter manager. He''s not on my list of best friends, but he is an acquaintance of mine. It was through him that I got to know the world of illegal fighting in the city''s underground. The tournaments are quarterly. And the next one won''t be for another two months. If you want to risk your life on this move... tell him the Happy Prince recommended it. Take this brooch in case he doubts your word. Don''t lose it!"


    "I''ll take part in the next tournament, thank you, Mr. Happy Prince."


    Akachi took the brooch from the Happy Prince and put it in his jacket pocket. Then he looked at Okafor and said:


    "I know my pay will be cut. I don''t want Credibits, tell me, can I get my pay in equipment?"


    Okafor raised an eyebrow. It was a strange request for someone who lived without money.


    "Well, yes. What caliber do you want?"


    "I don''t want a firearm. I want a pair of sticks."


    "Sticks?"


    Okafor scratched his temple with his metal fingers. He turned and walked through the door at the back of the counter. He rummaged through several boxes inside. He returned with a steel case containing padlocks with biometric readers. After confirming his fingerprint, the locks opened.


    Inside the case, in a padded velvet case, were two polished sticks with a bluish-gray sheen. The rubberized handles had small removable braided straw straps. Okafor took one of them and showed it to those present.


    "These are sticks made from a metal alloy of electro-coated steel and tungsten. It''s ten times stronger than titanium. Light as a feather. If you turn the handle counterclockwise, the tip emits an electroshock discharge. Don''t worry about a battery or anything, this little beauty uses a photothermal recharging system. All you have to do is shine a little sunlight or any source of ultraviolet light on it and it recharges."


    Okafor turned the handle clockwise and the electrocution stopped. The reflection of the batons appeared in the lenses of his glasses. It hid the spiral glow around his pupils.


    "Wouldn''t it be more useful to have an anti-material rifle or perhaps a machine gun, Akachi?"


    "I don''t like firearms, Happy Prince."


    "Ah, but you''ll need it after the Fourth Estate finds out what they did to Ata''s little brother."


    Okafor felt a strange foreboding. Swallowing dryly, he asked the pair of mercenaries:


    "What the fuck did you guys do up there?"

 Song 13: Crossroads of choices

    After Spin Bomb told him what had happened on the hill, Okafor paled. He felt a hammer in his chest. Dizzy, he groped around the counter until he sat down in a chair. He pressed his forehead with both hands. He looked at the Happy Prince.


    "You''re having a great time, aren''t you?"


    "On the contrary, I''ve lost my best cameraman in years¡­"


    "Ah! Fuck you, you culture vulture. I''ve never been convinced by this bullshit about coming here to film animals mating. Don''t tell me you were paid to provoke an incident like that on the hill? Holy shit, Happy Prince."


    "You offend me. I''ll forgive you. I will no longer bother you with my insignificant presence."


    "Spoken like a true highrider."


    "It would be good if you were all in orbit when Ata comes to exact his revenge. The money has already been transferred by my office."


    The influencer left the store without looking back.


    Okafor looked at Akachi. He pondered the situation. He hadn''t been born on the streets. To run into Chekandino was to sign a death warrant in his own blood. He exhaled the air from his nostrils. He gestured for the boy to come closer.


    "Akachi, do you want to go back to Ilu Nla?"


    "Yes¡­"


    "Do you want to meet your father again and recover your memories?"


    "Yes, that''s what I want most!"


    "Escape from Chrome Hill before the Central Command crime court catches up with you. Save yourself while there''s still time."


    The rookie merc felt his heart pounding. A random encounter had thrown everything down the drain. Spin Bomb touched Akachi''s shoulder to console him.


    "It wasn''t his fault, Okafor. I was the one who detonated Chekandino''s spleens. He came shooting at us. We had to fight back, otherwise we would have died. Don''t you understand? Ata''s twin brother is a lunatic. He''s a real psychopath. We weren''t in the territory of the Fourth Estate!"


    "Central Command won''t care about that. If they need to take your head or Akachi''s on a silver platter, they will. I suggest you run, both of you. Go on, don''t waste any more time talking to me."


    The pair said goodbye to Okafor. It was after eight in the evening. He closed the store and followed the two chooms up the slope.


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    ?


    Spin Bomb entered his home in a fluster. She felt that something bad was going to happen at any moment. She grabbed an old backpack and put in a few changes of clothes that her older brother had left behind. She put in some cereal bars and a bottle of water and handed the backpack to Akachi.


    "What about you?"


    "I''m staying."


    "For what reason? You have nothing to gain by staying here."


    "It''s more complicated than it sounds. You''ll have to go without me. Hide until dawn. Then run away."


    Spin Bomb pushed Akachi through the house. They reached the living room. To their surprise, there was a guy sitting on one of the sofas. His legs were crossed. His feet moved back and forth, as if he were impatient, although his posture showed apathy. He was holding a pewter javelin in an upright position, with the tip stuck in the ground.


    "Are you going somewhere?"


    Damn! I didn''t see that bastard coming.


    "What are you doing here, Yasini?"


    "Can''t you visit our fellow citizens anymore?"


    "Fuck off."


    "You always treat people with rude words, you know that?"


    Akachi felt a strong presence around Yasini. The Ori Guardian made himself visible to the boy. He recoiled at the sight of Zuber''s evil smile.


    The spirit floated around the young amnesiac. It was studying his Ax¨¦ emission. Yasini''s ancestor was pleased. There was a great power there to be exploited. A potential that could be harnessed, but wasted in the hands of a boy like that.


    "Yasini, look how petrified he is. If he was a real medium, he wouldn''t be so scared of me."


    "My dear Zuber, not everyone is familiar with your beautiful face. Let the boy relax a bit."


    Spin Bomb looked at Akachi, then at Yasini. Without seeing the spirit, he had no way of understanding or participating in the conversation.


    "Who is Zuber? Who are you talking about?"


    "There''s a spirit here, Spin Bomb. Your body is all scarified, like the scaly skin of a crocodile. You''re a medium too, aren''t you, Yasini?"


    "Bingo! Point for you, Akachi. I was looking forward to meeting you, but I confess I''m not impressed. I was hoping for more. I''m sorry to interrupt your vacation, but a curfew has been imposed on Chrome Hill by the Central Command. No one is allowed to leave or enter the slum without our approval. Is that clear? Good, I like that. If you try to escape, I''ll kill Spin Bomb. If Spin Bomb escapes, I''ll kill you. And if you both run away, I''ll kill Okafor."


    At that moment, Yasini realized that Akachi had clenched his fists. The concentration of Ax¨¦ in his body more than doubled. It seemed that the boy was a walking energy plant about to explode with spiritual force. The medium was pleased. He would use him as an asset.


    "I have a proposal to get rid of you, Akachi. Join the Central Command. The head of Chrome Hill has set up a negotiation round with Ata. There''s no guarantee that he''ll be able to calm the predator down."


    "Why would Akachi do that, Yasini? I''m the one who blew up Chekandino."


    "It doesn''t matter, Spin Bomb. Akachi was with you. As for why he gave in, well, I have a good reason. He''s a potential medium. He may have been hampered by amnesia, or some other factor. But he certainly has mediumistic abilities. If he decides to accept, I will personally train him. If you refuse, his death will put an end to your search, Akachi. Take it or leave it?"


    Akachi lowered his head and leaned against the wall. He hadn''t received a tempting offer or anything like that. He was being blackmailed in a humiliating way. Every choice carried risk. He knew that he was being used in a larger power play, and that he couldn''t bargain.


    He removed his glasses from his face. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and wiped the lenses. A whirlwind of thoughts raced through his head. There was a lot to lose in this game, including his life. However, Yasini''s blackmail had an element that could be an advantage. He could learn more about mediumship, about the cult of the ancestors.


    "So, Akachi, what''s your choice?"

 Song 14: The Cupola

    The Cupola of the Fourth Estate met in the afternoon at its headquarters in the Burned Circuit Slum Complex. They looked like corpses in their matte suits. The order of the day was the purchase of jetpacks from corrupt military personnel. The shipment would arrive in thirty days. Ata had gotten a reasonable price for the order. He was the head of the Arms Trafficking Division.


    Lovelie, the group''s treasurer, congratulated him on the deal. The Head of the Gambling Division, Iyapo, joined in the celebration by clapping his hands. The criminal organization had made a lot of money in the last few operations. They had taken over the various illegal casino and lottery outposts in the complex. Their tentacles were gripping everything tightly.


    Only Juta looked disappointed, although his countenance didn''t show it. Of the six at the Cupola of the Fourth Estate, he was the only one who didn''t increase the organization''s income. In charge of the Drug Trafficking Division, he spent all the profits he received compulsorily. He was a hyper-consumer.


    I envied Ata. He hated his success. His sense of constant failure had made him paranoid. He couldn''t admit his own incompetence. The divisions worked together, but the bosses didn''t interfere in each other''s fields. However, Juta had one culprit: his colleagues. He felt they were conspiring behind his back.


    It was common for him to sneak down corridors, to hear conversations behind doors. He had considered bugging his colleagues. She hadn''t done it for fear of Ata. She knew how dangerous he was when he was angry.


    Fucking Ata. If I could, I''d kill him myself. But I can''t do that now. Maybe if I hired an assassin¡­ no, bullshit. It wouldn''t do any good. If he dies, there will be a struggle for control of the organization. The best thing would be to kill them all in one fell swoop. Hum!


    Juta''s thoughts were interrupted. The double doors of the meeting room were kicked in. Everyone jumped to their feet. In complete desperation, Chekandino entered, being held down by his three henchmen. The stumps of his arms sparked with electrical discharges.


    Ata''s younger brother was screaming like an animal. Tears cascaded down his burned face. His nose oozed mucus. He was drooling with tears. At the sight of Ata, the henchmen fled.


    "What happened? Who did this to you, little brother?"


    Chekandino walked with heavy steps towards Ata. He laid his head on his brother''s shoulder and curled up. The militiaman cradled Chekandino as if he were a baby. He stroked his back and kissed his hair.


    The other members of the organization watched the scene in disgust. They were twin brothers, but totally different. Ata was elegant, handsome and well-proportioned. The other was ugly, awkward and had an irritating personality.


    Lovelie never admitted that the two were brothers. She never communicated her thoughts to Ata. She was his lover; she didn''t want him to reject her. She felt a twinge of jealousy when she saw the brotherly love between the two.


    Ata took Chekandino''s face in his palms. Gently, he asked:


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    "My little brother, who did this to you?"


    "The Central Command!"


    The hearts of those present froze. That was the start of a war. There was a tacit peace agreement between the organizations. The Central Command and the Fourth Estate would not clash as long as the borders of the communities were respected. Chekandino had somehow broken that agreement, and now he was putting everyone at risk.


    "They''ll pay for this, little brother. You can be sure of that."


    Lovelie couldn''t let that happen before her eyes. She had to intervene.


    "Listen, Ata. You''d better find out what happened. We killed the leaders of the local criminal organizations, but the lieutenants ended up migrating to Chrome Hill. We have plans to take over the Central Command. It can''t be done like that, without planning."


    "You want me to play blind for this, Lovelie. Look at my little brother''s face. I don''t want to know what happened, not really! Kinyua will pay for this. I don''t even care if he has more men than us. We have more money and more advanced weapons. We can''t let this go unpunished. If a relative of someone in the Cupola is attacked, it will convey an image of weakness."


    The division chiefs partly agreed with his argument. They didn''t want to put their hands on someone like Chekandino. They knew how stupid he could be.


    Juta was having fun. The Cupola was splitting in half. He had always imagined that something like this could happen. He needed to take advantage of the situation. He asked for the floor and said:


    "Ata is correct in his statement. The message we''re going to pass on is what matters. Don''t get ahead of yourself. I know how important Chekandino is to you. However, we can''t put the Fourth Estate at risk just to carry out a personal vendetta. I propose that Ata and Kinyua meet in a neutral place. That way we can buy time until the shipment of jetpacks arrives. Then we apply a fulminating attack on Chrome Hill. Ata gets his revenge, we get rid of our biggest enemy, and as a bonus, we gain another area to extend our domination. What do you think?"


    Lovelie narrowed her eyes. She knew how much of a fox Juta could be when he wanted to be. She didn''t catch his move. He could be plotting a coup against the Cupola itself.


    This wretch just wants to play us off against each other. I''ve never seen him care about anything but himself. If I were to bet my chips, I''d say that at some point he''ll meet with the head of Central Command.


    Ata looked at Juta with a firm gaze. All his aggression was concentrated in his vision.


    "Okay. I can''t guarantee that I''ll be civil during the conversation."


    "All right, just don''t overdo it. Buy yourself some time. Pretend you can take a break from the thing."


    Which you''ll never do, hohohoho. If I know you, you''ll grit your teeth for Kinyua. He''ll prepare for war too, the two of them will kill each other in a sea of blood. Now all that''s left is to solve five four more problems.


    "I''ll set up the meeting with the head of Central Command for tomorrow night. I''ll go alone, no, Lovelie, alone. Come on, little brother. You need to go in a ripper."


    The tense atmosphere eased as the two brothers left the room. In silence, it took them a minute to leave too. Iyapo and Lovelie lingered longer in the meeting room. The head of the Gambling Division looked at Juta and said:


    "You''re up to something, aren''t you? Pray to your ancestors and the gods that Ata doesn''t find out. Otherwise, you''ll be a dead man."


    "Go lick Ata''s balls, you asshole! And take that bitch with you."


    Lovelie felt wounded in her pride. She rehearsed a few insults, but Iyapo led her away down the corridor.


    Juta got up from his chair, made sure there was no one in the corridor. She returned to the table. He checked that there was no bug on the table or on the walls. Once he felt safe, he pulled his smartphone out of his suit pocket. He typed in a number and made a call that only certain people could make. The call was encrypted. Anyone who tapped it was putting their life at risk.


    "Ah, yes, get in touch with the old butcher¡­ I want to order a few good kilos of meat¡­ Please, I''ll pay by bank transfer¡­ Half now, half later¡­ No, in a month''s time¡­ They''ll send their best butcher, how nice¡­ I can''t wait to serve the dish."

 Song 15: Conflict of interests

    The morning sun was shining down on the area. A breeze stirred up the dust of the clay field. A few birds perched on dry leafy bushes. The silence was broken only by their sad songs and the echoes of a boy''s footsteps.


    Akachi walked towards the place agreed with Fenyang. He was going to start his maculel¨º training. However, the situation had changed. People were being threatened by the Central Command. As much as he wanted to reunite with his father and recover his memories, he wouldn''t allow anyone to be hurt because of him.


    He would never trust him again. He had broken his promise. His involvement with the local drug dealers had not been planned. It had become inevitable by a quirk of fate. He couldn''t remain passive. He had to make choices. Otherwise, he would remain parked like an empty shell.


    Fenyang appeared in front of him. He had a satisfied smile on his face. Akachi, on the other hand, had a hard look on his face.


    "I thought you weren''t coming, Akachi. Ready to suffer through my training, bro?"


    "Fenyang, I need to talk to you. You told me to stay away from Central Command. Unfortunately, I couldn''t follow your advice. They''re threatening me and Spin Bomb. I''ll have to help them in a war against the Fourth Estate. Please be my Ori Guardian."


    The smile melted from Fenyang''s face. He couldn''t believe that Akachi had been co-opted. He felt a fury inside him, one he had never felt before. The boy''s words made sense to him. The problem was that his disappointment was too great. He wouldn''t pretend that everything was fine.


    "Fuck you, kid! I told you not to get involved with those people. How can I believe you after that? Don''t get me involved in this. Even if I wanted to become your Ori Guardian, I''m not your ancestor. I have no link to you. How do you intend to incorporate me?"


    "He has a trump card, Fenyang."


    Yasini sprang into the air and landed with one knee on the ground and the javelin on his shoulder. Behind him was Zuber. The two spirits looked at each other. A tension descended on the place.


    "What are you doing here, Yasini, and who is this ugly man with you? You really are a manipulator. You want to turn me into a Central Command puppet using Akachi. You coward! You tried to blackmail me when I was alive, you didn''t succeed. Now they want to blackmail me when I''m dead, they''ll fail again, bro. Akachi, run with the Spin Bomb away from this damned place."


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    Fenyang turned his back on his interlocutors. In an impulse of desperation, Akachi knelt on the ground and bowed his head. Zuber found the scene pathetic. He would never respect a medium who behaved like that.


    "Please, Fenyang. I need your help. If the two of us run away, Central Command will kill Okafor."


    The maculel¨º fighter stopped. Okafor had helped him when he arrived at Chrome Hill. He lent him money for the rent. He helped finance the sports center. He tried to clean up his act with the Central Command. The death of that old man would be a heavy blow for him.


    He turned his eyes to Yasini and Zuber. They were blazing with anger, more than that, sharpness. He remembered when he first arrived in the slum. No one had given him a bad reception. On the contrary, they had helped him when he needed it most. He had dreamed of giving back to that community through sport. Maculel¨º had transformed his life too.


    Fenyang didn''t come from a clan of mediums. These traditional and influential families had little relationship with maculel¨º practitioners. The martial art was passed down from generation to generation, but it was never closed to those who wanted to learn the fighting style.


    After the maculel¨º schools were closed down by the state as subversive, the practitioners dispersed. They were purged from Ilu Nla. Some became criminals. The armed forces included some in their ranks. Only Fenyang hadn''t lost his faith in the transformative power of martial arts.


    "Akachi, I see no evil in you. But even the best is corrupted in this world. When I was alive, I was more idealistic, you know? Now I''m kind of discouraged by everything. Considering the environment, we live in, it''s very difficult to walk without stepping in shit. So be it! I agree to be your Ori Guardian. I can''t be selfish like those guys who only know how to live by spilling each other''s blood."


    Akachi rose from the ground. He pulled out the two metal sticks. He looked more and more determined.


    "I appreciate that. I didn''t want to involve you in my problems, or use maculel¨º for that matter. If I don''t act, I risk dying or putting innocent people at risk. My journey can''t end before I get my memories back. I have to find someone again."


    Yasini came up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He felt a strong emission of Ax¨¦ from the boy.


    "The maculel¨º, added to the incorporation of the Ori Guardian, will strengthen you in a way you''ve never experienced before. According to Chief Kinyua, we have less than a month. The Fourth Estate is preparing a massive attack. Our scouts in the Burned Circuit Complex say they''re going to wage an all-out war¡­"


    "Wait a minute, crocodile skin. Don''t misunderstand. I''m not going to obey you. I just want to save people from a useless death. I''m not doing this out of heroism, or for you, Akachi. I''m sorry. There''s something holding me back here on this earth. Maybe it''s that feeling of an incomplete mission."


    "So be it, Fenyang! Your motives don''t matter to us. Just do what we ask, and everyone''s life will be spared."


    No way! You''ll never leave us alone. I''m going to take advantage of this situation and save everyone.


    Akachi broke out in a cold sweat. He had planned something risky: fleeing during the war between the criminal factions. He had to save Okafor and Spin Bomb. He depended on Fenyang''s help. He didn''t trust Yasini and Zuber, or the Central Command. He didn''t know why he had ended up on Chrome Hill. Maybe he had been saved, or maybe he had been rejected. Doubt consumed him.


    The desire to know the truth was his fuel. He just couldn''t die there. Sometimes he felt sick. It felt like he was using people to get what he wanted. He could leave everything behind and start a life somewhere else. But who could guarantee that they weren''t after him? From this perspective, time would not be a cure, but a burden.

 Song 16: When the apprentice is ready, the master appears

    Maculel¨º is one of the oldest martial arts in the world. Its origins go back to the warrior peoples of the interior of the continent. They formed royal guards. They used a pair of machetes, dark single-edged blades with a one-handed handle and no guard.


    Their techniques were based on severing their opponents'' limbs by hitting their joints, or as a last resort, executing the enemy by severing their head. With this arsenal of blows, they could end a fight quickly. They could capture the enemy by inflicting damage on their legs or arms.


    Warring states hired these clans as royal guards. While the governments were at their peak, these warriors enjoyed fame and success. However, constant wars plunged the great civilizations into ruin. Their martial artists were no longer needed in the modern world.


    The practitioners of maculel¨º resisted. The deadly art was renewed. Machetes gave way to wooden sticks used in training. The techniques of fulminating murder were replaced by blows that fractured and subdued the opponent. The martial art became a sport practiced in various academies.


    His reform ensured the survival of the tradition. Fenyang was one of its greatest enthusiasts. He was happy that even after his death he could carry on his legacy. The problem was that training someone like Akachi was a huge challenge. Maculel¨º required rhythm, like a dance.


    "No, Akachi. Maculel¨º is an acrobatic martial art, but if you can''t coordinate your body movements, you won''t be able to land any blows. Right arm in front, left leg behind, and vice versa. Look, like this."


    Fenyang and Akachi were facing each other. The boy reproduced his master''s movements with redoubled effort. This was the pedagogy of mimesis, the only one possible in those conditions.


    Just as a beginner in the fine arts reproduces the master''s paintings to learn the use of paint, the application of light and shade, the proportion of objects, the imitation and repetition of movements educates the body. The locomotor system automates the processes of action and reaction. There comes a time when the application of a technique reaches an intuitive level.


    Yasini watched everything with apprehension. The fighting style was complex. The individual''s bodily-kinesthetic intelligence was required to the maximum. Maculel¨º involved jumping, squatting, spinning, kicking and switching weapons.


    The medium noticed that there was a priority of attack. It ran from the knee to the neck. The square cut-out formed a critical attack zone. Forearms, wrists and shins were secondary targets. Body movement was constant, like a dance. The positioning of each part of the body counted.


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    The attacks also differed from one another. The horizontal ones followed a curvilinear trajectory and took longer due to the body''s swing. Vertical attacks were straight and fast. Diagonal blows were delivered with or without a mixture of attacks. They were aimed at breaking bones and tearing muscles and tendons.


    "The boy is very slow. His breathing is too heavy. He''ll end up fatigued before he''s even halfway through training."


    "It''s his first day. I noticed that too during calisthenics. But don''t demand too much of him, Zuber. Every beginner is a gem to be polished. Don''t be pushy. Hey, Akachi! Count four seconds and inhale, then four seconds and exhale. Your lungs won''t be full of air, making you uncomfortable. Nor will you feel short of breath."


    "Talking is easy, Master Yasini. I can''t concentrate on so many things at once."


    "But you''re dumb, kid¡­"


    "Enough, Zuber. All right. I''m going to hit my javelin on the ground. You won''t have to count from one to four repeatedly. You''ll hear the beats. You''ll soon get used to the cardiorespiratory flow."


    Yasini began to beat the javelin on the floor, making a crunching sound. Akachi began to breathe to the rhythm of the medium''s beat. Little by little, his tiredness subsided. His concentration even increased. The air no longer entered his lungs as if he had swallowed a bunch of thumbtacks.


    Despite all their efforts, Fenyang and his pupil were unable to synchronize their steps. If one raised his left arm, the other raised his right. The fighter stepped forward with his left leg, Akachi with his right. The boy began to get irritated by this. After missing another move, Akachi shouted at Fenyang:


    "Is it your right or my right?"


    "Sorry, I''ve always been bad at this side thing, Akachi. When I was practicing maculel¨º, I didn''t really understand whether my master wanted me to move based on my right and left or his. So, he marked the sticks with colored ribbons, blue on the right and red on the left."


    "What? You mean I was getting my movements wrong all this time because of you? You¡­"


    "Hohohohoho, how stupid of them. If Chrome Hill depends on people like you to save it, you''re fucked."


    Zuber continued to laugh. Fenyang and Akachi looked at the Ori Guardian with contempt. They were struggling. Sweat dripped down their faces. They had determination. They would not be swayed by the negativity of the warlike spirit. They continued their exercises with greater intensity.


    Suddenly, Akachi collapsed with one knee on the ground. Fenyang and Yasini went over to him. His left calf spasmed involuntarily. He tried to get up, but collapsed once again. The boy slammed a fist into the ground.


    "Damn! More of that now."


    "Calm down, kid. It''s just a cramp. Stretch your leg, it''ll relax your muscles. I''ll give you a massage with circular movements and apply my Ax¨¦ for a local analgesic effect. You''ll feel a chill inside your muscles."


    Akachi stood up with a limp. Yasini put her hand on his left calf and massaged it. A reddish light came out of her palm. The muscles stopped vibrating. The boy no longer felt any discomfort.


    "Thank you¡­ How did you do that, Master Yasini?"


    "When you''re ready, I''ll teach you. Now, get back to training with Fenyang!"

 Song 17: In the rhythm of memory

    During training, the body seems to weigh more than twice as much. The tendons stiffen. A heat zone forms like a crown around the top of the head. Movements become sluggish. Sweat trickles down the temples. It lines the curves of the face. A single drop falls into his eye, causing it to sting.


    Its sour smell enters the nostrils. It causes a lump in the throat. The airways seem too small for all the hot air climbing up the windpipe. The lungs let out a loud snore. It''s the body overcome by physical and mental fatigue. It pleads for mercy. However, it must be tensed.


    The comfort zone is no longer a home to live in. Conflict is precipitating in the atmosphere. Peace is the time when men prepare for war. Those who understood this were prepared when she knocked on the door with her red cloak. They had to be vigilant on Chrome Hill, because war was coming.


    After three days of training, Akachi could no longer think. During the day, he joined his Guardian Ori and his mediumistic master. At night, he helped Okafor in his store to pay for the damage to the hydro buggy. In those days, he had overcome the fatigue of a lifetime. Fenyang and Yasini''s training regime was intense.


    They demanded strict discipline from him. There was no time to lose. Yasini was aware of the challenges and tried to overcome them. There was a problem of rhythm in the spiritual synchronization between the medium and the Ori Guardian. To meet this need, he authorized the use of percussive music during the maculel¨º training sessions.


    Akachi thought the whole thing was a waste of time. He didn''t understand how dancing with two sticks and listening to music under the hot sun would help him become a medium. He declared his concern to his master during a break.


    "Master Yasini, until now I haven''t understood the relationship between maculel¨º and mediumship. Shouldn''t we be doing more spiritual training?"


    "Akachi, you''re amnesiac. Ancestral worship depends on memory. To not possess it is to disconnect from ancestry. It''s like a tree whose roots have no contact with the ground. How can it nourish itself? So is man without memory. In order to strengthen the spirit of our ancestors, it is essential to know their history and their names. Only those who look to the past can see the future. To keep this link active, mnemonic techniques, or forms of memorization, have been created. They are all practiced orally. The word in ancestral cults is the means of communication between forces, between worlds. Through the word, song and rhyme, poetry and narrative were born. Each serves a different purpose."


    Fenyang was curious. He had never heard a medium speak with such authority on the subject.


    "And what are they?"


    "The Adur¨¢ are songs addressed to the Entities, the fourteen divinized ancestors. Seven men and seven women who heeded the precepts of the Greatest Creator, the Lord of Heaven and Earth, the divinity Fante Obatayie. It is said that when an Adur¨¢ is recited with great power, if specific conditions are met, it can materialize an Entity in our world. Oriki, the praise of the ancestor, which allows his spirit to be fixed in the medium''s body. Of¨®, the incantation that allows reality to be transformed. The ¨¬tan, the stories of our ancestors from the seven primordial couples."


    Akachi put both hands on his head. Yasini was talking about things that were very complex for him.


    "The more you talk, the less I understand."


    "That''s because you''re dumb, kid!"


    Zuber never missed an opportunity to humiliate Akachi. It was his way of showing himself superior. He marked his so-called distinction by the way he treated the boy.


    "Don''t say that, my grumpy Ori Guardian. We weren''t born with this knowledge, so we have to remember it every generation, Zuber."


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    Yasini asked Akachi to close his eyes. The medium asked him to imagine a network of electrical energy wires, distributed inside his body. A circuit like the blood circulation that vivifies the body. It allowed the Ax¨¦ to circulate through all his limbs, organs and tissues.


    Ax¨¦ circulated from left to right, and from right to left. Two forms of current, one ascending and the other descending, circulated from the top of the head to the soles of the feet. One was strong, the other weak. One was positive, the other negative. This is the force that operates and is present in the divine world, the natural world and the spiritual world.


    The Ax¨¦ that the medium uses to anchor the Ori Guardian in their body is the union of natural and spiritual force. It manifests itself as an electromagnetic energy which, when channeled properly, has two basic properties.


    To make this even clearer, Yasini scratched two lines on the ground with her javelin. One vertical, the other horizontal. This formed four quadrants.


    <table style="width: 49.5135%">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9051%; text-align: center" width="229">


    ATTRACTION


    </td>


    <td style="width: 49.9051%; text-align: center" width="229">


    REPULSION


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.9051%; text-align: center" width="229">


    PROPAGATION


    </td>


    <td style="width: 49.9051%; text-align: center" width="229">


    CONCENTRATION


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    "At the top, there are two magnetic properties that meet the criteria of negative and positive poles. They are in the first quadrant at the top right, and in the second quadrant at the top left. Below, there are two electrical properties. One in the lower right third quadrant, and the other in the lower left fourth quadrant. The mediumistic profile is based on the configuration of these properties. Each medium develops these properties unevenly and in combination. This enables them to create different ways of acting."


    "What if someone develops only one, or none, Master Yasini?"


    "That''s impossible, Akachi. Every medium develops both properties, but each one will have a different affinity. One will develop more than the other. It will depend a lot on the level of the medium, the way they train, even their long-term experience. Now, look."


    Yasini made a basic diagram to show how it worked. He wrote a table with two columns and four rows. He wrote some words in the cells of the table.


    <table style="width: 64.1081%">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.8489%; text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>DOMINANT FUNCTION</u>


    </td>


    <td style="width: 49.8489%; text-align: center" width="208">


    Attraction


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.8489%; text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>AUXILIARY FUNCTION</u>


    </td>


    <td style="width: 49.8489%; text-align: center" width="208">


    Propagation


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.8489%; text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>TERTIARY FUNCTION</u>


    </td>


    <td style="width: 49.8489%; text-align: center" width="208">


    Repulsion


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.8489%; text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>LOWER FUNCTION</u>


    </td>


    <td style="width: 49.8489%; text-align: center" width="208">


    Concentration


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    "The Dominant Function is the one we develop the most throughout our lives, and the one we use the most. The Auxiliary Function acts in conjunction with the Dominant Function, maintaining the balance between the magnetic and electrical force of the Ax¨¦. The last two are the least developed by the medium. They have a compensatory and harmonious character in the individual."


    "I noticed that you organized the diagram by taking turns with the magnetic and electrical properties of the Ax¨¦."


    "Well observed, Akachi. When we develop a property axis, be it magnetic or electrical, we automatically place one in the first function and the other in the third function. One property is in the second function and another in the fourth function. If an individual''s mediumistic profile was based on the Magnetic Property as the Dominant Function and the Auxiliary Function, they would collapse. Ax¨¦ is a potential and intelligent energy, it doesn''t contradict itself."


    "Wow, and how can I tell what my mediumistic profile is?"


    "It''s too early to tell. If you continue to develop your Ax¨¦ emission, you''ll expand your knowledge of ancestral worship and the mediumistic arts."


    "But before that, you''ll have to learn maculel¨º. If you improve in training, we''ll let you take the test."


    "I agree with Fenyang. Don''t be anxious, it could get in the way of your training. All in good time, Akachi."


    The boy tried to connect all this new information, to no avail. Fenyang and Yasini had told him that he had no links with his ancestors because he had lost his memory. He thought that was unfair. He had Ax¨¦ like everyone else, so why couldn''t he be a medium like Yasini?


    The maculel¨º training would strengthen his body, mind and spirit. His spiritual synchrony with Fenyang had improved, but he was far from realizing a Firmness. Martial art would artificialize spiritual synchrony with someone outside the amnesiac boy''s ancestry. There was something in that question that hadn''t been explained to him.


    The break ended, and everyone returned to training with more intensity. Akachi was very curious to know what his mediumistic profile was. He would have to work hard to get that information. Yasini wouldn''t give it to him for free.

 Song 18: Mediumistic Profile

    Another exhausting day of training was over. Akachi was eager to incorporate Fenyang. It was a way of proving to himself that he was already a medium. Yasini thwarted his wish. The medium claimed that it was not yet time to firm up the spirit. The practice required Akachi to master his Ax¨¦ completely.


    Yasini gave no guarantees that he would succeed. He just insisted on the fact. If his theory was right, Akachi held one of the Seven Keys of the Spirit. Which one? He still didn''t know. Zuber had encouraged him to manipulate the boy and steal the artifact in a moment of weakness.


    The plans had changed somewhat. A war against the militiamen of the Burned Circuit Complex was looming. Guardian Ori had insisted on the attempt. They had to steal the key and escape before the clashes. Yasini remained resolute. Zuber made a mental calculation of his motives and devised his own plan to take possession of the key.


    Yasini had sought to meet Akachi out of curiosity. Everything indicated that the stranger was a psychic. It could be an interesting challenge. He intended to kill him. Now he was his master in the mediumistic arts. He observed his disciple lying on his back on the ground, gasping for breath. He remembered his days as a student. He smiled.


    "Come on, Akachi. Let''s define your mediumistic profile."


    "At last. It''s been a week of training."


    They returned to Chrome Hill. Akachi, Fenyang, Yasini and their Guardian Ori headed for Okafor''s store. Spin Bomb was waiting for Akachi to arrive. Everyone was very curious. Yasini asked them to bring a large bowl or container and fill it with clean water.


    Okafor took an aluminum basin. He placed it on a bench. He filled it with clear water. Then he asked them to scrape off some metal, preferably ferrous. Okafor diligently took out a copper wire. Yasini rejected it.


    "Metals like copper, gold, silver, lead, aluminum, tin, titanium, zinc and bismuth are diamagnetic metals. They''re no good."


    "What do you mean? I didn''t understand what you meant, Yasini."


    "They''re metals with no magnetic properties. It''s better if it''s something ferrous. It could even be steel or bronze."


    "Will iron filings do?"


    "Yes, Spin Bomb."


    Spin Bomb took iron filings from a cloth bag. The dark powder was thrown into the basin. The water became cloudy and the iron powder remained at the bottom of the basin. Yasini explained that at room temperature, iron was magnetizable. It became paramagnetic above 770 ¡ãC or 1418 ¡ãF.


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    The mediumship profile test proposed by Yasini was one of many. He claimed that it was the most accessible. Its simplicity was deceptive. The would-be medium had to put into practice their ability to conduct and emit Axe to the outside of the body.


    Their success depended on their knowledge of the magnetic and electrical properties of axe. Water was an excellent electrical conductor. Iron filings would fulfill the magnetic factor. The exercise was simple: apply Ax¨¦ to the palms of your hands and make the force flow into the basin.


    The profile would be defined based on the effect applied to the iron filings. Adding up the four properties with the four functions, there were eight possible mediumistic profiles. From there, the skills would be developed. There were basic techniques that most would learn and apply in a fight.


    "Akachi, come here. Hold the basin with your palms open. Make your Ax¨¦ flow from your body into the basin. Don''t do anything more than that. It''s intuitive."


    "Shouldn''t you have trained more for something like this?"


    "If you were an ordinary person, yes. But you''re not. Let''s do a mentalization exercise. Imagine you''re trying to hold back raindrops with your hands. You don''t have to hold back all the rain, just a few drops. When you have enough water to fill your palms, pour it into the basin."


    "I don''t know if I can¡­"


    "Do it, it won''t take long. For the rest, keep quiet. Let him concentrate."


    Akachi closed his eyes. He began to breathe rhythmically. Every second breathing in through his nose, four seconds containing the air in his lungs and another four seconds breathing out through his mouth. He placed both hands on the basin. He did as Yasini had taught him. At first, everything seemed confusing. He didn''t know if he had succeeded.


    He continued emitting Ax¨¦ until he heard the sound of his own breathing. Something wet began to run down his body. He heard raindrops hitting the floor. His hand was gradually concentrating energy. After a few minutes, he felt tired and languidly dropped his hands from the basin. He was feeling more tired than in training. Akachi turned around and said:


    "So, what''s my mediumistic profile?"


    "I couldn''t identify it, Akachi. You were doing it wrong."


    "No, I was doing it right. I saw the drops, gathered water in my hand and poured it into the basin."


    "Don''t get me wrong, kid. It wasn''t the mentalization exercise that you did wrong, it was the emission of Ax¨¦ into your hands. Your strength was being concentrated in a chaotic way. Even that requires logic. Your energy follows a main route, whether it''s clockwise or counter-clockwise. Are you right-handed or left-handed?"


    "Right-handed¡­"


    "Make your Ax¨¦ flow counter-clockwise, like spirals coming together towards the palm of your hand. Then form a straight line towards the basin."


    Akachi did as Yasini suggested. The energy seemed to have less difficulty. He felt lines of Ax¨¦ flowing from his body, from top to bottom, from bottom to top. From the right, it followed to the end of the limbs, then returned. When the energy completed its flow, she felt something on the top of her head.


    "I feel a little warmth on my scalp. It''s as if something warm is being poured in every few minutes. It feels good."


    "Ah! You''ve accidentally discovered your Inner Portal. The Orientals call them Chakras. They are arranged vertically. The first one is at the top of the head, in the mole. The second is on the forehead. The third is in the throat. The fourth is the heart. The fifth is in the stomach, the sixth in the navel, and the seventh and last in the pubic region. The Inner Portals control and promote the flow of Axe through the body through positive and negative vibrations. These vibrations generate the compatibility of Firmness between the Ori Guardian and his medium. Now, open your eyes, Akachi. Get to know your mediumistic profile."


    Akachi opened his eyes and saw the basin. The effect had been successfully applied. All he needed was for Yasini to interpret it. The boy felt anxious. His world was opening up to countless possibilities.

 Song 19: Join crime

    Before becoming the boss of Chrome Hill, Kinyua had a simple dream: to have his own clothing brand. He was ambitious. He had even considered creating a fashion label. In his investment mirage, he even had a chain of stores with his brand in big letters on the front. He used sublimation to reduce the cost of hand-printing.


    The business was down to him, a second cousin and a friend who, like him, had dropped out of school. They forgot what all the locals knew. Chrome Hill was not created for people to dream, but for them to have nightmares. Kinyua''s was soon to arrive.


    His best friend proposed that they use the workshop to store some things, suspicious things, heavy things! Kinyua didn''t agree. He''d be arrested for receiving. His friend said he was exaggerating. The authorities wouldn''t know anything. Everything would be kept safe; it would be a piece of cake.


    Kinyua became a receiver of suspicious things. When his workshop was raided by the police, he was charged not only with receiving stolen goods, but also with criminal association. He went to jail. Behind bars, he became associated with a certain faction. In order not to die inside, he joined for good.


    After crossing the valley of the shadow of death, his dream did not die. When he rose to power in Chrome Hill, he invested in his brand once again. He forced the drug traffickers who occupied the highest positions to use his brand. The Central Command stopped being just a criminal organization and became a profitable company.


    At the age of forty, Kinyua wanted nothing more. He had reached the top, and after the summit, there was only the fall. What he didn''t give up was always wearing his brand wherever he went, regardless of the environment. It was a way of reaffirming his identity in the monoculture of standardization.


    That''s what he did at the meeting with the Fourth Estate on a yacht anchored in Conch Bay. Some sea wolves received a few Credibits in their accounts and turned a blind eye. In fact, they didn''t even care. They even wanted the meeting to end in a slaughter.


    Ata received Kinyua and his bodyguards on deck, including Yasini. The negotiations took place in the bow of the ship, on comfortable white seats around a table with a blue glass top and silver details.


    The sea was calm and the moonlight reflected off the waves. A cool breeze calmed the night heat. The atmosphere was tense.


    "Nice yacht, who should I bribe to get an exclusive one like that, Ata?"


    "We didn''t buy the yacht. This one was given to us by a millionaire from Ilu Nla. We did some services for him, and he paid us with this beauty. It has fifteen berths in all, made of carbon fiber and fiberglass-reinforced plastic. Huge, isn''t it? Please sit down and have a drink with us. We have an excellent Romanzza-Contard wine."


    Ata sat right in front of Kinyua and crossed his legs. The Head of the Arms Trafficking Division was wearing a half-tailcoat: dark graphite pants and vest striped with gray; a jacket that was shorter at the back, with a square front cut; and finally, a bolo tie with a cross-buckle closure.


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    Clothes make the man, Ata''s father used to tell his sons. The only one who understood his advice and put it into practice was his eldest son. As an ex-military man, the criminal kept his tendency to dress in line and maintain his nonchalant posture. It was a way of distinguishing himself from his enemies, of showing power.


    The wine was served. The drug dealer and the militiaman drank as if they were winemakers. Yasini watched with concern. The wine could be poisoned. It could all be a trap, and they could be attacked there in neutral territory. Chrome Hill could be under attack right now, and there was nothing he could do but wait.


    Kinyua was serene. He didn''t want to give it away, but the wine was delicious. A taste and aroma unlike anything he had ever drunk. To pay it a compliment would be to admit that he was inferior to the militiaman.


    "It''s amazing what money can buy, isn''t it?"


    "Money can buy a lot of things, but it can''t buy everything, Ata. You can''t buy loyalty with it."


    "True, it can''t buy everything, but it can get it for you quickly. Loyalty is something we only reserve for family. What would family be without loyalty? A group of people united by blood, living together, never really relating. When I joined the Ilu Nla Armed Forces, I was told to be loyal to my nation. That those men I stood shoulder to shoulder with were my brothers. Garbage!"


    "I agree. I didn''t have a family before I climbed into the slum with a pistol in my waistband. I had to choose mine on the street. There was too much supply and not enough demand."


    "That''s not a family, it''s a criminal association, hehehehe. There''s something my father used to teach me. Family is something you protect tooth and nail. The Fourth Estate sent me here to negotiate a truce with you, Kinyua. You want to know what I think? Fuck you! Nobody messes with my family."


    "I can give you the heads of the guys who did this to Chekandino. It wasn''t one of our guys who attacked your brother. They''re outsiders, doing shit in the slum. Take this as an offer of peace between us."


    Ata stood up. It lifted the tension of the moment. He gave a beautiful smile. He buttoned his jacket. His eyes flashed with anger. In an impulse that frightened even his private security guards, the militiaman knocked everything off the table. One of the most expensive bottles of wine in history was lost forever.


    The trafficker kept his glass full. On the outside, he was the most confident man in the world. But inside, he felt like getting up, pulling out his pistol and putting the madman on that boat. He looked at Yasini with his pewter javelin slung over his shoulder. He gave the psychic a look that told him not to do anything.


    "You needed to see the state in which my younger brother arrived in the Burned Circuit Slum Complex. I''ve never seen my brother like that, man. How dare you do this to him? The only reason I don''t kill you from Chrome here and now is because I want to do it in a big way. I don''t want the heads of the sons of bitches who did this, I want the whole Chrome Hill to burn. I''m going to tear you and your eaters apart, Kinyua."


    "You''ve got a problem, bro. You only talk about big things. I think you''ve got that thing that therapists say¡­ ah, how do you say it? Mania of grandeur! Is that to hide something you have small? Relax, man. You take yourself too seriously. Do you know the difference between you and me? I know this is going to end soon. Unless you''re planning on retiring into a life of crime. There are only two destinations for us: jail or the cemetery. If it''s not at the hands of the police, it''ll be at the hands of someone else who''s rushing to get to the top, or perhaps someone who''s just digging their grave right underneath us. I''ve been aware of this since I started, haven''t you?"


    "War between us! I swear on my life: I''ll kill you with my bare hands, Kinyua."


    "Try as you might. We from Central Command are waiting for you to fill your militia ass with bullets. Come on, Yasini. We have nothing more to do with this asshole."


    The pair got up and headed for the deck exit. Ata pulled a gun from his waistband and aimed it at the head of the boss of Chrome Hill. Yasini stopped. The militiaman kept the gun pointed, but it didn''t go off. He felt something strange run through his body. An energy that prevented him from pulling the trigger. Yasini continued walking.


    "Laugh while you can, Kinyua. He who laughs last, laughs best."

 Song 20: The defender

    Everyone looked at Yasini with great expectation. He watched the basin. His eyes sparkled. Akachi possessed the rarest mediumistic profile of the eight. This would either guarantee him a great advantage in battle, or become a major barrier in his future. He shook his head.


    "Ah! Go on, tell me what my profile is."


    "Your profile is CRPA."


    "That''s no good, Yasini. Let old Okafor organize the ideas here."


    The man picked up a three-dimensional holoprojection terminal and asked the medium to define the psychic profiles one by one. Okafor organized everything into tables. The tables were organized like this:


    <table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2" width="416">


    PROFILE 1 - APRC


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Dominant Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Attraction


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Auxiliary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Propagation


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Tertiary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Repulsion


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Lower function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Concentration


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2" width="416">


    PROFILE 2 - ACRP


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Dominant Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Attraction


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Auxiliary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Concentration


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Tertiary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Repulsion


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Lower function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Propagation


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" colspan="2" width="416">


    PROFILE 3 - RPAC


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Dominant Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Repulsion


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Auxiliary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Propagation


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Tertiary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Attraction


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Lower function</u>


    </td>


    <td width="208">


    Concentration


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" width="416">


    PROFILE 4 - RCAP


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Dominant Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Repulsion


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Auxiliary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Concentration


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Tertiary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Attraction


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Lower function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Propagation


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" width="416">


    PROFILE 5 - PACR


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Dominant Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Propagation


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Auxiliary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Attraction


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Tertiary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Concentration


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Lower function</u>


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Repulsion


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" width="416">


    PROFILE 6 - PRCA


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Dominant Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Propagation


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Auxiliary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Repulsion


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Tertiary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Concentration


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Lower function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    Attraction


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    <table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; width: 90.0541%">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 49.94%" colspan="2" width="416">


    PROFILE 7 - CAPR


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 24.97%; text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Dominant Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="width: 24.97%; text-align: center" width="208">


    Concentration


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 24.97%; text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Auxiliary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="width: 24.97%; text-align: center" width="208">


    Attraction


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 24.97%; text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Tertiary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="width: 24.97%; text-align: center" width="208">


    Propagation


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 24.97%; text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Lower function</u>


    </td>


    <td style="width: 24.97%; text-align: center" width="208">


    Repulsion


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    <table>


    <tbody>


    <tr style="text-align: center">


    <td colspan="2" width="416">


    PROFILE 8 - CRPA


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr style="text-align: center">


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Dominant Function</u>


    </td>


    <td width="208">


    Concentration


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr style="text-align: center">


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Auxiliary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td width="208">


    Repulsion


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr style="text-align: center">


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Tertiary Function</u>


    </td>


    <td width="208">


    Propagation


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center" width="208">


    <u>Lower function</u>


    </td>


    <td width="208">


    Attraction


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    "That''s very ingenious, Yasini. How did you come to that conclusion?"


    "I didn''t quite understand either, Mr. Okafor."


    "Akachi, and the rest of you, look at the basin."


    The iron filings had concentrated in the water as a solid sphere.


    "It''s not hard to spot. Your Ax¨¦ has concentrated the metal, causing it to be repelled from below. Its internal force has a greater tendency to concentrate and repel external forces. It is excellent for making shields, barriers, deflecting attacks, rebounding and other types of defenses."


    "What is your mediumistic profile, Master Yasini?"


    "That''s something personal. It''s not the kind of information you give out to anyone anywhere. An experienced medium can identify it just by observing. It will be a test for you. Discover my mediumistic profile and you''ll take a big step forward in your training."


    Of course, he''s not going to tell you, bro.


    What is he hiding from us? Not that he''s the most trustworthy person in the world, but what reason does he have to hide something from us? Wait a minute! Fenyang, we''re talking directly to each other without opening our mouths or anything.


    I know that. Relax, no one can hear us.


    When did you find out we could do this?


    Our spiritual synchronization has generated a mental link between us. It could be useful in the future. The problem is that Yasini has his mediumistic profile, and we don''t have his. If he tries to betray them, he could use that against us.


    Yasini declared that there was nothing more to teach that day and said goodbye to everyone. Akachi opened and closed his fists. He no longer felt so weak. Now all he had to do was develop his skills. Everything was a great possibility for him.


    ?


    Akachi and Spin Bomb returned home. Fenyang accompanied them. She no longer saw any reason to stay in the illegal cemetery on the hill. Spin Bomb found the idea of a spirit living under the same roof as her a bit strange. Since her metaphysical body wouldn''t take up any space, nor would it be another mouth to feed, she shrugged.


    The girl asked Akachi to sleep in the living room. The room would serve as storage for the swords. There were a thousand of them. Without any help from her tenant, the scrap collector managed to find some valuable things in the dump. It was enough to make a few bucks. She ordered food via the app.


    The curfew was still in place in Chrome Hill. Deliveries were being made by drones, with authorization from the Central Command. People still needed food and medicine, even though war had been declared between the criminal factions. If the traffickers didn''t allow these services to work, the population could revolt and even collaborate with the enemy.


    After a few minutes, the drone flew in through the window with a long-life package. Spin Bomb picked up the dinner and paid for it using the cryptocurrencies on his cell phone. The drone beeped to confirm payment, and a loudspeaker thanked them for choosing the restaurant and offered a ten percent discount on their next purchase.


    "How are you training with Fenyang?"


    "He''s a great teacher. Gee, I''ve never eaten that. At least, I don''t remember."


    "I thought it was strange that he agreed to teach you maculel¨º. You know, you''re going to use this martial art to help drug dealers. Maybe even kill people."


    "In the same way that you use swordsmithing to protect your family."


    "How do you know that?"


    "I connected the dots. There''s no reason for you to do this of your own free will. I sense that you''ve never been comfortable with this arrangement."


    Spin Bomb trembled at the base. This was something very intimate. She had been thrown into someone else''s story, just as Akachi was now part of her own. A life rescued from the trash had altered her daily life in a way that she could no longer turn back. She even missed the amnesiac boy when he was gone.


    She''d worry, wondering if he''d had enough to eat. When he arrived, she would ask if he had been hurt, if he was tired. I felt silly. Then she''d close herself off like a hedgehog, as if seeking protection from that instant friendship. She felt a certain responsibility towards Akachi.


    She hadn''t felt the urge to connect with anyone for a long time. But Akachi was different. She was like a child learning to take her first steps in that violent world. Dreams no longer sprouted from the dry soil of human relationships. I wondered how many days he would stay there, until fate summoned him to play his part.


    "Akachi, you say you''re doing this just to recover your memories and return to your father. But what if there''s nothing to remember? If all you have is the now, searching for an imaginary past, won''t that kind of, uh, break you?"


    "It would be sad to have no one to go back to, not even a memory to fill me up. I think I understand the meaning of ancestry more and more every day. It means more than having a descendant, it means being part of something bigger. It''s having a family, a connection with more people who strengthen you. I see this when Yasini and Zuber are together. I don''t know if I''ll get back what I''ve lost. I just want to try, Spin Bomb."

 Song 21: The short story of a hunting dog

    Tajiri had found a way of life in crime. Unlike his superiors and opponents, he had vision, just like any ambitious man. He understood more than anyone how the street worked. His cronies said he had a few crooked ideas. He had more schooling than the others and expressed himself well.


    He had been born into an urban middle-class family in the textile trade. In his country, it was a traditional trade with great social value. However, it was in decline due to the growing industrialization of the sector. His family soon fell into debt with bank loans.


    But Tajiri didn''t want to spend the rest of his life with a protruding belly behind the counter of a failing business. He dropped out of school before studying business administration at university. He was pragmatic and decided to join a local criminal gang. His parents disagreed with his stance and kicked him out of the house.


    With a height of one meter ninety and one hundred and fifty kilos, he was ironically nicknamed Bird Small by his comrades. He began his criminal career running bank robberies. He progressed to cargo theft and then to arms trafficking. From there he understood an even faster way to get to the top without being bothered.


    He legalized the business. He turned his gang into a private army and began offering his services to states in wars. There were a lot of them. The business proved lucrative. The money paid off so much that he bought real estate, started electing candidates to lobby, and extended his tentacles into other sectors of the economy.


    The gangster became a CEO over the years. All he did was sign contracts and watch the cryptocurrencies fall into his digital account. He spent his days smoking expensive cigars and drinking the best money could buy. Inside, he felt that he had softened. He wasn''t the same anymore, everyone knew that, including him.


    Sitting behind his mahogany desk on the roof of his company building, he lit a cigar. The smoke was expelled in a hoarse coughing fit. The large room ended in a double wooden door with gilded details. An extensive embroidered carpet reminded him of his days in the family store.


    On the outside, he didn''t allow himself to express any tension. But inside, he was plagued by fear of the shadow of the valley of death. The double doors opened with a bang. The head of security came towards him with uneasy steps. He stopped in front of him, nodded and said:


    "Mr. Big Small, I''ve just checked security. All the men are in place and armed. Monitoring cameras with thermo-optical vision, night vision and infrared are activated. There are at least ten well-trained men with injected combat drugs. They are armed with heavy weapons on each of the hundred floors. Machine-gun turrets with biometric identification have been installed in the stairwells, on the roof and in the service elevators. If necessary, there''s a helicopter ready and fueled at the helipad. I will monitor the security of this room with you via holoprojection. Activate images."


    A projector on the ceiling emitted a bluish light, and a huge sphere appeared floating in the air. It was divided by several oval screens. In a slight, continuous rotation, it showed floor by floor.


    "Don''t call me... cof-cof, Big Small. I''m Mr. Tajiri now. Learn that, Paradzanai. You''re my head of security. Don''t pull a stunt like that at this time of the season. Ouch, ouch! Those youngsters wouldn''t last a day in my time."


    The security chief sucked in a breath. He ran his hands through his shoulder-length straight hair. It was shaved at the left temple and dyed various colors. His eyebrows were stylized; he was a professional gangster. A piercing adorned his right nostril. His only advantage was that he was qualified for the job.


    With his plump fingers, he picked up the cigar cutter and gave it a cheer. Another cigar was lit. There were already three in the ashtray. Big Small turned his chair around and stood in profile. He crossed his left leg over his right with difficulty. He put one elbow on the table. With his free hand, he smoothed the collar of his jacket. His white shirt was soaked with sweat.


    "Even though I know I''m in my last moments, I don''t regret a thing."


    "Don''t talk like that, sir... Tajiri. Whoever was hired to kill you, they won''t succeed. Not while I''m here."


    "I admire your confidence, my boy. I''m an old fox, and an old fox knows very well the danger of a Hunting Dog. It''s just one of those that''s after me now. He doesn''t growl, he doesn''t bark, he just lurks and bites with his sharp fangs. He was raised in a very dangerous pack. He''s loyal to his owner. Paradzanai, have you ever heard of the tale of the Hunting Dog?"


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    "No sir, I''d like to hear it."


    "Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, a little mangy dog was born. It had been abandoned by its parents, or orphaned, I don''t know. He was co-opted by a professional trainer..."


    "What was he hunting, sir?"


    "Take it easy, Paradzanai. You deconstructed youths of today have no patience for anything!"


    "Sorry, sir, go on."


    "The little dog became a big, robust hunting dog. The trainer would say: ''Go on, get it, dog!'' And the dog would bite and kill, even though he didn''t know why. It just wagged its tail and hunted another prey, and another, and another. One day the flea dog saw his reflection in a pool of blood from a victim. Both he and his prey looked the same. He didn''t care and carried on hunting. He had gotten used to the taste and smell of blood."


    "What a frightening tale, Mr. Tajiri."


    The conversation was interrupted by the emergency signal. The unwelcome visitor had arrived. All that could be seen was his figure. A large shadow that consumed the life of everyone in front of it. It was the destructive wind that was shaking the structures of powerful men.


    On each of the screens of the spherical holoprojection, all that could be seen was a bloodbath. Everything was destroyed by gunfire. Tajiri''s guards died from a double shot to the head. Blood and brain matter splattered the floor and walls. The machine-gun turrets were rendered useless by a single shot that exploded them.


    The guards were dropping like flies. The cameras also received a bullet, and the screens blacked out in a glitch-filled display. What reached Paradzanai''s communicator was a cacophony of distress calls, bangs and cries of pain. The security chief didn''t give up.


    "Don''t worry, sir. He won''t even make it to the fifth floor."


    "Oh! But he''s already on the tenth, no, seventeenth."


    "Damn it, Mr. Tajiri, come with me. The helicopter has already been prepared in case our plan fails."


    "Argh! My gout is killing me today, Paradzanai. I don''t have cyberware in my legs like you."


    "Don''t say that, you can''t give yourself up."


    "And where am I going to run off to, you idiot? You of the new generation don''t understand. You can''t run away from a Hunting Dog sent by..."


    The doors were riddled with bullets until they burst open. Paradzanai pointed his submachine gun at the enemy. That didn''t stop the invader. In fact, he didn''t even see the silhouette of his attacker. He turned back. A tall, bald man with a slim build was pointing a nickel-plated double-barrel vertical pistol at Big Small''s forehead.


    His aura was terrifying. He was six feet tall and wore a dark matte slim suit with a navy-blue tie. The collar was embroidered with arabesque patterns. His eyes were covered with dark glasses with narrow rectangular frames. The temples were transparent, giving the effect that the frame floated in front of her nose.


    Between his thick lips was a lit incense herb cigarette. The cigarette went from one corner of his mouth to the other.


    "Fadala, the ''Hunting Dog'' of Il¨º Apanyan. Thank you for your unwelcome visit. Can I at least finish my cigar?"


    "It''s bad luck to deny a dead man his last request."


    The killer''s voice came out low and cadenced. Big Small felt as if his spine had been thrown into a freezer. He reached into the drawer. Instead of taking out a cigar, he pulled out a small revolver. A shot thundered through the room. Big Small fell backwards. His eyes were ecstatic. His mouth wore a wide smile. He had died at the top.


    "Big Small, you have been silenced by Il¨º Apanyan. May God call you, if he wishes."


    "You, you killed the boss! Don''t move, or I''ll..."


    "That was my last shot. My mission is complete. If you try to shoot me, I''ll kill you with my gun butts."


    "Don''t move another step, Fadala, whoever you are."


    "I''ll go out the way I came in. You won''t have the courage to shoot me in the back. Your bones are rattling. Even if you shoot, you''ll miss and hit the floor or the ceiling."


    Fadala put the two pistols in the holster under his jacket. He closed the buttons and walked out the door. No shots were fired in his direction. He walked down the corridor towards the elevator. He was careful not to step in the pools of blood and bullet-riddled bodies along the way.


    He called the elevator. When he opened the doors, a corpse tumbled out. Fadala entered and pressed the first-floor button. He smoothed his bald head and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a finger shaped like a windshield wiper. Ambient music began to play on the loudspeaker. His smartphone vibrated. He took it out of his pocket and answered the call:


    "My Babu, the target has been silenced."


    "You honor the Il¨º Apanyan, my son! Now, a new and more difficult mission will be offered to you. There will be a war between the Central Command of Chrome Hill and the Fourth Estate of the Burned Circuit Complex. The Chief of the Drug Trafficking Division, Juta, wants to eliminate the Fourth Estate and take power for himself. Head there and wait for the riots to start. Be quick and silent. Once you''ve silenced the target, wait for further instructions. I will offer you a great mission that could redefine the fate of Il¨º Apanyan."


    "Yes, my Babu. Consider it done."


    "God smooth your path, and remove your difficulties, my son."

 Song 22: A risky gamble

    After a fortnight of training for spiritual synchronization, Akachi and Fenyang had a synergy that had never been seen before. The maculel¨º movements were made as if Akachi were a reflection of his Ori Guardian. His reflexes and locomotor intelligence had exceeded the spirit''s expectations.


    Yasini was pleased with his apprentice''s progress. It was the first time he had taught about ancestor worship and mediumship. During the training sessions, he recalled his own difficulties and how his master encouraged him to overcome barriers in an unorthodox way. He tried not to show his nostalgia.


    Zuber knew what he was feeling inside. The past was becoming vivid for Yasini. The medium had never come to terms with the current situation of his peers'' banishment. The Ori Guardian, like an ancestor, knew that the past and the present are separated only by the merest mistake.


    Zuber tried to bring Yasini back to reality. The latter''s excitement was too great for his words to have any effect. He kept insisting that they should get the key for themselves, but Yasini kept stalling. He seemed to be in a bad mood.


    During the hydration break, Yasini asked Akachi to sit down. He had something important to say.


    "Akachi, you were my first disciple. It''s very likely that you''ll be my last. The development of the Ax¨¦ force and the deepening of mediumship require years of training. Unless you''re a genius, one of those born every century, you wouldn''t be able to accomplish this in a month. But there is something in you that can change everything."


    Yasini pointed at Akachi''s chest. The young man put both hands around his chest.


    "What is this strange key on my chest, master?"


    "That''s one of the Seven Keys of the Spirit. It can be recognized by the shape of a five-pointed star at its base. The star has been forged with its insides hollowed out to highlight its characteristic shape. It is the Key of Faith, whose power opens one of the Seven Portals, what the elders called the Throne of Faith. Located at the top of the head. This is where the energy is first established. Through it the Ax¨¦ of the Ori Guardian descends, hence the origin of the name, ''He who guards my head''."


    "I understand, but you also talked about the vibration of the internal portals or thrones."


    "Ax¨¦ first passes through the thrones, each of which has its own generating portal. The portals close and open to circulate the individual''s natural and spiritual force throughout the body. This generates the vibration. The compatibility of the medium and the Ori Guardian depends very much on matching the vibrations. Not too fast, not too slow, equal. It''s like modulating the frequency of sound. This takes time, it takes years of a lifetime for the amplitude of the Ax¨¦ frequency to be constant to the point of perfect spiritual synchronization. There is an abrupt and even risky way of doing this. But I won''t do it without explaining the risks, and it''s up to you whether or not you accept, Akachi."


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    Zuber gasped at that. He thought Yasini was using a tactic to kill the amnesiac boy without arousing suspicion. He had never imagined that Yasini would be so sordid.


    Fenyang listened to the proposal with concern. After all, Akachi had no ancestral ties. Training maculel¨º required physical effort and skill, but mediumship was a spiritual matter. It was nothing to do with luck or chance. The ancestors didn''t allow themselves to be toyed with. The fighter felt like he was in on something.


    "What''s the risk of Akachi getting hurt in this? I don''t want to see my bro get into a mess. He doesn''t even know the extent of his powers."


    "Your doubts are correct, Fenyang. It''s wise for the medium to have a restrained Ori Guardian. However, at his current stage, there won''t be another opportunity for him to learn how to incorporate spirits. If he doesn''t develop this skill, other mediums or more powerful people will come after him. Akachi is a walking Ax¨¦ plant. As soon as he arrived here, I could feel him emitting from a distance. If he doesn''t learn to control the vibrations of his thrones, he will die of spiritual exhaustion."


    "Even so, it''s too risky, bro."


    "I believe that the Spiritual Key of the Throne of Faith will prevent you from suffering serious damage. It seems to be connected to you on a deeper level than other users. The Divine Power that flows from it and your Ax¨¦ share the same path of energetic circulation. Her Ax¨¦ is stronger than mine, on the same level as an elder. If you wish, kneel in front of me and I will awaken you to mediumship once and for all. But remember, if you don''t control your Ax¨¦, you''ll be like a broken dam."


    "All right, do it."


    Yasini explained how she would proceed. She was going to perform the oldest and most dangerous technique for developing the emission and control of Ax¨¦. He would break into the internal portals. She would share some of her own Ax¨¦ in Akachi''s Portal of Faith. This would induce a new rhythm in the vibration of the portals.


    If the medium was weak and couldn''t control the continuous flow, the Ax¨¦ would leak out of every orifice in the body, even through the pores. If he stood firm, he would have total control of his Ax¨¦. This would take Akachi''s abilities to the next level. He would no longer be just a martial artist, but a medium.


    Yasini concentrated his Ax¨¦ in the palm of his hand. He placed it on Akachi''s head and caused the energy to flow into the boy''s skull. The young man felt a warmth in his soft underbelly. It was as if he had fallen under a shower head into the hot water. The heat ran down his body.


    Akachi shivered from top to bottom. Fenyang tried to touch his shoulder, but Yasini pushed him away. He made a silent gesture with his fingers. The amnesiac''s eyes rolled back in their sockets. Skimmed from his mouth. He fell to the floor on his stomach. The process could no longer be interrupted. All that remained was to hope that he would survive.


    Akachi wiped the lenses of his glasses on his white shirt. He was serious. It was the first time that the risk of death had become a real alternative in training. He put his glasses back on his face. He exhaled the air from his lungs and said:


    "I want to try. I feel that this Spiritual Key is more than just a mystical artifact. It''s an inheritance that my father left me. It represents my faith in something greater than myself. I can''t explain it, but I feel as if my own father had told me."

 Song 23: Fragments from the past

    Akachi saw his memory as if it were a movie. He was in a large room. There was an armored door with an electronic lock. A new type of guided missile was being projected into the room. A man in a white coat was holding a grenade launcher. He was pointing at the door that was being punched from the outside. He wasn''t going to resist.


    Behind the man stood Akachi. It was a strange feeling to see himself in that scene. He tried to communicate, without success. Both the Akachi of the memories and his protector couldn''t see the other desperate Akachi. The pair retreated to the armored glass wall in the background. They were trapped.


    Try as he might, the boy couldn''t see the face of the man in the lab coat. The man holding the boy''s hand tightly seemed to be a scientist. Although I couldn''t identify him, his name tag read ''Chief Scientist Adisa''. The door was knocked down.


    The invaders, half a dozen in number, were nothing more than shapeless figures. The young man could only tell them apart by their size and their voices. The one who seemed to be the leader stepped forward. Akachi''s protector pointed his gun at him. The man laughed and his body shook. He pointed his big hand at Akachi of the memories and ordered:


    "Don''t be silly, Adisa. I''m taking Ilu Nla''s power. Give up this pathetic resistance. Give us the Spiritual Key of Faith. We''ll find a way to save your dear son. If you resist, I''ll have to kill you both."


    "The Royal Guard will not allow you to rise to power without a fight. Moreover, the Circle of Sages will not give you peace. I''ve been blind to you all this time, Minister Ojwang. You even used my son Akachi''s illness to your advantage. I''ve been used by you, but I won''t give you the Spiritual Key of Faith."


    "There are a few mistakes in that sentence of yours, Adisa. Firstly, the Royal Guard has already been decimated by my Phalanx. Secondly, the Circle of Sages, after a brief resistance, has disappeared from our radar, hohohoho! Gahiji is on their trail. They won''t get very far with that cyborg on their tail. Finally, you were never used. On the contrary, you manipulated the budget of Ilu Nla''s Ministry of Science and Technology. You hid everything behind security protocols and restricted access to the chief scientist only. I turned a blind eye for you and your son, Adisa. You betrayed me for them."


    "You talk about betrayal! You''re applying a coup d''¨¦tat to the nation that welcomed you twenty years ago. You''ve used your expertise in knowledge to gain positions in the government. You''ve made deals with the aristocrats to diminish the influence of the Circle of Sages¡­"


    "Enough of this small talk! Give the order, My Sovereign Ojwang, and I will take the key by force from that brat."


    The shadow behind Ojwang grew larger. His silhouette was even taller than the scammer''s. His voice was guttural. His voice was guttural. Its footsteps echoed heavily around the room. Ojwang tapped his broad shoulder and ordered:


    "Take it for me, General Jitujeusi. Show me that the members of the Phalanx don''t mess around."


    There was no time to react. He advanced with astonishing speed. He grabbed Akachi around the waist with one hand. With the other, he tried to pull the key out of the boy''s cybernetic exoskeleton. The Spiritual Key of Faith reacted to the attacker and emitted a pulse of Axe that launched everyone into the distance.


    The glass wall behind Akachi shattered into a thousand pieces. He was thrown out. His father still tried to grab his hand in the air. However, the teenager was already too far away. In slow motion, he descended the tower to see Adisa with her hands outstretched towards him. An Ax¨¦ wrap protected him in the air.


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    As luck would have it, Akachi landed on an airtight solid waste transportation vehicle. The Akachi of memories collapsed. Kneeling on the edge of the glass wall, Adisa stared in dismay at the situation. He turned his gaze to the Akachi beside him and said:


    "Son, come home."


    Akachi woke up. He realized that he was no longer in the wilderness. He was in the living room of Spin Bomb''s house. Covered in sweat, his jacket and shirt had been removed. He put his hand on the Spirit Key. It was still there, connected to his exoskeleton. He looked around; the hostess was sitting in a chair next to him, her chin resting on her knees.


    Okafor was dipping a towel into a brass bucket and wiping the sweat from Akachi''s forehead. Yasini was standing next to Zuber. His face showed satisfaction at the result, after all, the boy had survived.


    Akachi looked around for Fenyang. His Ori Guardian was worried and happy that his medium had woken up. The spirit already knew from the look in the boy''s eyes that part of his memories had been recovered.


    Don''t tell anyone yet. Yasini seems to be playing a dangerous game. He''s not doing all this for free, he wants to use us. Zuber seems to be more honest about this. Worst of all, he knows our strengths and weaknesses.


    Do you think so? Science and Technology Minister Ojwang staged a coup d''¨¦tat in Ilu Nla. My father Adisa contributed to this, Fenyang. He developed secret research to use the power of the Spiritual Key to cure me. Cure me of what? Why do I have to wear this cybernetic exoskeleton?


    Don''t make hasty judgments, Akachi. Never underestimate a father who loves his son.


    I know that. He''s still alive. I know he is. But he must be trapped somewhere in Ilu Nla. He was the chief scientist under Ojwang''s command.


    So, it won''t be a reunion between father and son, it will be a rescue. Count on me, Akachi. I no longer have a family, but you still have someone to go back to.


    Thank you, Fenyang.


    Yasini asked how Akachi was feeling. The boy replied that despite the headache, everything was fine. His master said that his Axe flow had normalized and that he could now control it properly. In the morning, they would make a first attempt to incorporate their Ax¨¦ Guardian.


    The medium took a small leap into the air and disappeared. Spin Bomb was startled by Yasini.


    "I hate it when he does that, he looks like a haunting. What the fuck!"


    "You gave us quite a scare, Akachi. I even though Yasini had done something bad to you. Don''t say that anymore. That old man has a very weak heart."


    "Sorry, Okafor. Mr. Okafor, who is the current ruler of Ilu Nla?"


    "The former Minister of Science and Technology. He came to power in a recent and victorious coup d''¨¦tat."


    "How does someone come to power without anyone resisting?"


    "Well, Spin Bomb, I know little about politics. Ojwang knew how to work his political capital well. The ruler was too enchanted by his little technological toys. Ojwang arrived like someone who wanted nothing. He offered high-tech weapons to the Ilu Nla Armed Forces through his megacorporation."


    Okafor continued to give his opinion on the subject. According to the old man, the mediums were gradually replaced by autonomous weapons, drones, bipedal tanks, modular armor, etc. A cyber troop grew up as a paramilitary force within the city. They competed for power directly with the mediums.


    By the time the Circle of Sages in the service of the king of Ilu Nla came to notice, it was too late. Caught by surprise in the midst of the coup d''¨¦tat, they had no chance to fight back. The coup plotter had power over the Armed Forces, the support of the hegemonic media and public opinion. The mediums were painted as the enemies of the nation.


    The only ones who had opposed Ojwang''s rise since his arrival were the Masters of Suspicion. Three elderly mediums who had once been part of the Circle of Sages and who were unhappy with the direction of the nation. They considered the Sages a passive group because of their failed attempts to negotiate political space. They went into self-exile at the falls in the northeast.


    Akachi straightened his wrists. He looked at Fenyang, who nodded and turned to Okafor:


    "When this is all over in Chrome Hill, let''s pay these old men a little visit."

 Song 24: A friendly fight! Akachi vs. Yasini

    The routine of training and working in Okafor''s store left Akachi exhausted. However, when he remembered that this could help him reunite with his father Adisa, his vigor returned. As he recovered some of his memories, a sense of urgency welled up in his chest. Adisa was at risk under Ojwang''s control.


    When he woke up on that watershed morning, his face showed determination. Spin Bomb joked with the young man that he was too excited. He ate breakfast greedily. Fenyang shared his optimism. They had done a good job. It was far from ideal, but for Akachi, it was very good.


    The apprentice picked up his tungsten sticks. On each handle, he tied a ribbon. He put a red one on the left and a blue one on the right, just like the wooden sticks used by Guardian Ori. He left Spin Bomb''s house without listening to what the swordsmith was saying.


    He took to the street and walked down the hill. As he passed, the locals greeted him. Akachi was no longer a stranger. He was part of the community. Chrome Hill was a society made up of misfits, social outcasts and anonymous runaways. There was always room for one more.


    The boy headed for the entrance to the favela that led to the road to the garbage dump. Jarda and Smoke had never appeared again. A group of Central Command observers waved to Akachi and allowed him to leave. The young man continued walking, climbed through the clandestine cemetery and arrived at the clay pan. Yasini was already waiting for him.


    "Very well, Akachi. I''m not going to teach you anything else today. I only wish that my teachings had paid off. Show me that you are worthy of being the user of the Spiritual Key of Faith. Firm the spirit of Fenyang in your body, become the vehicle of its strength and memory."


    "Yes, Master Yasini. Fenyang, we''ve decided to do this together. Concentrate and channel your Ax¨¦ together with me."


    "You got it, bro!"


    Akachi closed his eyes. Fenyang did the same. They both began to channel their Ax¨¦ into their bodies. Little by little, the vibration of their internal portals acquired the same frequency. The metaphysical body of the Ori Guardian slowly overlapped with that of the medium. The air around the boy became hot and dense.


    He opened his eyes and they emitted a strong light. It was two existences manifested in a single body. In a double-toned voice, Akachi shouted:


    "FIRM SPIRIT!"


    A curtain of dust rose into the sky. Yasini put her arms in front of her face. She had never felt an Ax¨¦ as powerful as that. It was like a divine spark that appeared before her eyes. A force that surpassed nature and spirit, it was the Divine Emanation of Fante Obatayie.


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    All this without uttering a single word of Oriki, without knowing a line of ¨¬tan. That was the power of a Spiritual Key, which granted the medium the power of a Sage. Zuber mischievously whispered in Yasini''s ear:


    It''s such a waste to have such great power in the hands of such a little boy. Let''s take it for ourselves.


    If it fell into the wrong hands, Ilu Nla''s Cybertroop would do a lot of damage¡­


    Fuck Ilu Nla, Yasini! Are you stupid or what? It''s a golden chance. With this artifact, we''ll put anyone under our boot. Don''t just stand there, move!


    "All right, Akachi and Fenyang, listen to me. I want to see the extent of your abilities as mediums with Guardian Ori in place. There''s no point in receiving the spirit if you can''t work as a team. We''ll fight each other. Don''t worry, it''ll only be a friendly match, a test event for what''s to come in the rest of the month."


    "It''s the first time I''ve received a spirit, I don''t know if I can control all my strength."


    "Is it for real or just for fun?"


    "Look, Yasini, how confident those worms are."


    Yasini sang her Oriki to Zuber. He affirmed his Ori Guardian. Now the two combatants were on equal terms. At least as far as spiritual aid was concerned.


    Akachi, although they don''t show it, I''m sensing some malice there, bro. Don''t give these guys a hard time. I still can''t figure out what they''re up to.


    I know. Sounds like fun. We don''t have any advanced techniques, so I''ll have to rely on your combat experience, Fenyang.


    Leave it to me, bro! Yasini is a spearman. The javelin a allows him to attack from short and long distances. He must be very good at thrusting, it''s not good to attack him head-on. It could go badly. Let''s use a distraction and approach from the flanks. His speed will be our surprise effect.


    Akachi concentrated his Ax¨¦ on the soles of his feet, increasing his weight. He dug his heels in, cracking the ground to the point where the stones in the deepest layers rose to the top. Before they hit the ground, he hit them with his sticks. Using the repulsive force of his Ax¨¦, the speed of the stones reached great velocity.


    Yasini felt like he was in the middle of a bombardment. With the tip of his javelin, he crushed the rocks. This caused a curtain of dust around him that blurred his vision. He didn''t see Akachi hit his abdomen on the right side. A double, well-placed blow threw him a distance. He staggered and only stopped rolling when he used his weapon as a brake.


    Yasini didn''t see the blow. He didn''t even have time to use his most powerful defensive Of¨®. An enchantment that covered her skin with a thick layer of iron. Yasini rose from the dusty ground. He spat out a mouthful of blood. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.


    They were ingenious, I can''t doubt that. You shame your Yasini ancestors. You are not worthy to carry our spear.


    Silence, old vulture. Who knew they''d take it seriously? It''s Fenyang. He''s strategizing, he must have realized that I''m better at defending than attacking. He''ll try to lure us into his web. He''ll try to beat us through exhaustion. He''ll distract us, then strike from below. I underestimated them. They work well together.


    Stop admiring the balls of our enemies, you idiot. I''m not embedded with you to watch you take a beating from someone who isn''t even competent to be a trainee medium. Get a move on, you wretch!


    The same trick won''t work on me twice in this fight, Akachi. What will you do when your strategy collapses?

 Song 25: Break of defense

    Yasini was impressed by Akachi. Not with the power that the Spiritual Key of Faith gave him, but with the way he used its potential. It had helped him understand the artifact, he just hadn''t imagined that it would have such a big effect. The boy didn''t know an Of¨®, an incantation or any other art.


    It was based on Fenyang''s combat experience and the use of Ax¨¦''s basic properties. It was quite an effect to be able to hit a medium like him. Yasini got up from the floor. His ribs ached. He palpated the area; there was no bone fracture. It would continue to bother him throughout the fight.


    He spun the javelin in the air and got into a defensive posture. He held the weapon in both hands, with the triangular tip pointing downwards. One foot was positioned in front, stretched out, and the other behind, with the knee bent. This would allow him to turn and defend himself at any angle without having to move.


    He looked deep into Akachi''s eyes. He disappeared from her vision. He was fast. He took advantage of a blind spot on Yasini''s back. With the handle of his javelin, the medium struck his opponent in the stomach, sending him flying away. To stop his fall. Adisa''s son channeled his Ax¨¦ into the sticks and created air resistance, landing safely on the ground.


    Yasini is like a team on the defensive, he''s pushed everyone back into the penalty area. That way, you''ll concede a goal.


    Don''t get too confident, Fenyang. Yasini taught us what we know, and we know nothing about him.


    Whatever. Fall in with him, bro. Force him until Yasini shows his true face. This guy is masked. Let''s break his mask along with his defense.


    Akachi attacked Yasini in a series of double blows. Attacking the other medium''s left and right sides, he ensured that he was always busy defending himself and not counterattacking. His targets were his opponent''s joints. He took care not to stay in one place for too long, so that his attacks wouldn''t be predictable.


    Yasini kept up a stiff defense. He sensed that Fenyang was an offensive-type Ori Guardian. In every attempt to counter his opponent''s attacks, Akachi defended himself with one and struck with the other. The dynamic forced the medium to recompose his defense. It was a kind of technical draw.


    Unexpectedly, Akachi stepped back and threw one of the sticks at Yasini''s face. Almost by instinct, he spun the javelin to hit his opponent. The boy rolled across the floor and hit Yasini''s ribs once again. The medium drove his spear into the ground, but it didn''t hit his opponent, who dodged and retrieved his staff before it hit the ground.


    "You managed to hit me twice, and in the same place? I''m impressed, Akachi. I didn''t think you were prepared for this confrontation. I think Zuber and I should take this more seriously from now on."


    "Fenyang and I took this seriously from the start. I still don''t understand your interest in me. From the start, I felt I was being used by you and Central Command. I took advantage of the situation by learning more about mediumship. I think it''s only fair because of everything I''ve had to go through and the things I''m going to have to do."


    "Okay, you''re right. I haven''t been honest with you all this time. I don''t think you''re worthy of using the Spiritual Key of Faith. It''s too powerful an artifact to be in the hands of a layman."


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    "What? You''re an idiot or pretending to be, Yasini. I''m your Ori Guardian, stop fucking around. Take that fucking key from the boy and¡­"


    "Shut up, Zuber! I''m your medium, and you owe me respect."


    "Respect for you? You idiot. You know very well that I''m in a position to possess your body and take control of this shit whenever I want. Enough with the pleasantries. Get some sleep, Yasini."


    A battle took place inside the medium. Zuber''s Ax¨¦ was greater than Yasini''s. Their ancestral connection was not distant enough for the vibrations of the medium''s thrones to cancel out Zuber''s, as he was his paternal great-grandfather. This spirit''s connection with the world of nature was very present.


    After twitching epileptically, Yasini closed his eyes. His pupils rolled back in their sockets. When he opened them, it was no longer Yasini standing there, but Zuber. His gaze was fierce, devoid of any pity. His movements were quick and heavy. He swung the javelin with even greater mastery than his medium.


    "Come, if you have the courage!"


    "You''ve possessed your medium? What kind of person are you, Zuber?"


    "Someone with no scruples, hohohoho. One day Yasini will thank me for that. My grandson was the weakest of my clan. I got close to him at a young age. I made him what he is today. I saw great potential in him. Someone intelligent enough to bring glory to our clan once again. It''s a shame he didn''t understand our current situation. Ojwang marginalized mediums. Before this filthy pig came along, we ruled Ilu Nla. They called us the ''Voice of the Throne''. The seven clans and their offshoots enjoyed power and influence, all of which has been lost because of technology. The fuck with all that!"


    "I won''t give you the Spiritual Key of Faith. If you want it, you''ll have to take it by force. This is my father Adisa''s legacy. He entrusted it to me."


    "Brave of him, Adisa was a coward who sold out to Ojwang. But that determined look, that unwavering, foolish faith reminds me more of your grandfather, Azekel. If you manage to defeat me in this fight, I''ll consider you worthy of the honor of being the holder of a Spiritual Key."


    "Don''t talk about my father like that anymore!"


    He''s teasing you; bro. Watch out for that spirit.


    Akachi took off running towards the spirit. Instead of just defending himself, he ran at the boy with his javelin raised. Zuber struck a horizontal blow that forced his opponent backwards. With the javelin pointed at the boy''s chest, he applied several stocks. He targeted vital organs such as the heart, lungs, kidneys, liver and stomach.


    Akachi only had the chance to retreat. He couldn''t retreat forever. The enemy''s attacks were relentless. The young man ran and leapt into the air, applying a vertical blow with both sticks. If he hit both of Zuber''s shoulders, he would no longer be able to use his short spear. The spirit was an experienced warrior and defended the attack by placing his javelin horizontally.


    The two began to measure strength. Akachi kicked his opponent in the ribs. However, Zuber defended the attack by raising his knee. If he was hit a third time in the same place, he would no longer be able to fight. Distracted by the situation, Akachi was head-butted. The boy fell meters away.


    One of Akachi''s eyebrows began to bleed. With the back of his hand, he wiped away the blood that dripped and cascaded from his eye. He closed his eye to prevent it from burning.


    Cuts on the eyebrow are difficult to clot. It''s best to keep your left eye closed for the time being. With only one eye, you lose your sense of depth.


    He''s changed his stance, he''s more of an aggressor than a defender. His attacks are based on stocks to push his opponent away and horizontal slashes to catch us off guard.


    I have a tactic to finish him off, leave it to me, bro.


    Once again Akachi began his onslaught, and Zuber struck back with all his might. The two exchanged blows with extreme speed. The spirit swung his javelin in an attempt to strike at his opponent''s heart. He stood in profile, hammered the shaft of the short spear with his clubs and drove the tip into the ground.


    He kept one stick pressing the javelin into the ground, and with the other he struck Zuber in the throat. There was a crack of clashing metal. Akachi couldn''t believe it: a thick layer of dark metal had formed around his neck. Like an overcoat, it protected Zuber from the worst.


    "You didn''t count on my Of¨® Iron Skin, did you, you bum?"

 Song 26: The iron armor oxidizes

    Akachi pressed one of the sticks into the neck of the Yasini possessed by his Ori Guardian. Zuber''s metal defense was resistant. They battled until his opponent tripped Adisa''s son. He jumped backwards, placing the X-shaped sticks in front of his body. A horizontal javelin blow knocked him back.


    Zuber dissolved his Of¨®. He smoothed the tip of the javelin with his fingertips. There was no blood on the blade. Despite that exchange of blows, he hadn''t managed to inflict a single wound on his opponent. This irritated him. Akachi''s mediumistic profile was more defense-oriented, yet he had managed to get around this situation.


    The use of Ax¨¦''s basic properties was primary, but rationalized and functional so far. Zuber felt his ribs creak as he moved. There was no internal bleeding. The injuries were internal. He could feel the area inflaming. His breathing was choppy. He tried to catch his breath.


    How can he cover his skin with iron, Fenyang? Javelin is made of tin, not by absorption.


    There is iron in the human body, including in the bloodstream. I don''t know if the amount is enough to form complete armor.


    Assuming he attracts the iron to the surface of the skin, he could become an ACRP.


    If he does this on small parts of his body, as he has just done, it''s likely. But if he manages to cover his entire body with iron armor, then he must be an APRC. Every technique has a ''but'', a price to pay. We have to find out what his is.


    The pair''s guesses were assertive. The element iron is present in the human body in an average of five grams. Of this amount, 65% exists in the form of hemoglobin, the molecule that makes oxygen circulate in the blood. The rest accumulates in the liver, spleen and bone marrow in the form of ferritin and hemosiderin. A healthy adult has between forty and one hundred and sixty micrograms of iron in their blood.


    What Zuber did was to attract some of this iron to the epidermis. After that, he multiplied it by spreading the Ax¨¦. The medium''s body, in an attempt to maintain its metabolic balance, replenished the iron lost in the attraction process. However, there was a limit to this. Excessive use of Of¨® by the medium would trigger anemia.


    The possessed spirit, back on his feet, waved his javelin and went after his opponent. It tried to strike Akachi''s legs, so that he couldn''t move at speed. Fenyang realized this and made his medium keep his guard down. Zuber applied heavier attacks now.


    While they exchanged blows with their weapons, their legs also applied kicks and knees. The greedy spirit used the tip of his spear to wound Akachi''s calf. The boy jumped to the side. He avoided stepping on the ground with his injured leg. Landing on one leg was difficult at that speed. He stumbled and fell to the ground.


    Zuber took advantage of the fact that his opponent had collapsed to the ground and began to javelin him. Akachi rolled sideways, trying to escape. He didn''t manage to dodge all the blows. The short spear hit his shoulder, in the joint of his exoskeleton. The pain made him spit blood. The boy grabbed the spear shaft and applied repulsion to push the enemy weapon away.


    The javelin didn''t move an inch from his body. Akachi was pinned to the ground. Zuber laughed at his despair.


    "Hohohoho, silly boy. Tin is considered a paramagnetic metal. Its magnetic susceptibility is very low. Some even call it a diamagnetic metal. Now that we''ve finished our physics lesson, DIE!"


    Akachi didn''t give up. He grabbed the javelin with two hands, and applying a thrust to his lower limbs, looped a leg triangle around Zuber''s neck. The boy kept his hips up. His opponent''s right arm, clutching the weapon, was caught in the triangle.


    Zuber gritted his teeth. He couldn''t accept losing to that fledgling medium. With his free arm, he grabbed the handle of the weapon. He turned the javelin, increasing the radius of the wound in Adisa''s son''s shoulder. Akachi let out a scream that echoed throughout the area. By instinct, the young man''s thighs contracted, which increased the pressure on the possessed Yasini''s neck.


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    The Ori Guardian began to snort like a tired horse. He used the Iron Skin Of¨® once more and pushed Akachi''s leg away. The boy''s legs collapsed to the ground. With both hands free and his opponent pinned to the ground, Zuber had the upper hand in the fight.


    He thrust his hands into Akachi''s chest, but the action had the opposite effect. A pulse of energy sent him sprawling with his javelin. A crater formed in the ground, and the boy was in the middle of it. He slowly got up, his clothes and hair covered in dust. He grabbed the end of his shirt and wiped the lenses of his glasses.


    "The Spirit Key doesn''t seem to be something that can be taken away by force. There must be a correct way of extracting it, Fenyang."


    "It''s attached directly to your body, Akachi."


    On the other side, rising to his feet, Zuber grabbed the javelin. Veins popped out of his face. The tip of the weapon was dripping with blood. When he looked at the wound in his opponent''s shoulder, where there should have been a large hemorrhage, there was only a clotted hole.


    The key is healing you so that you don''t die. Perhaps there is only one way to extract it from you, by killing you.


    He spun his javelin and stood in an even tighter line of defense than before. He would wait for the enemy and thrust his spear from below.


    "Come on, Akachi. I don''t have all day."


    Akachi, concentrate Ax¨¦ on the left stick, increasing its density will make the blow heavier. With the other, use repulsion. Hit the sticks like a hammer on a nail. This will catch him off guard.


    Okay, I won''t get the timing wrong.


    Akachi began a faltering run due to the injury to his leg. He did as his Guardian Ori recommended. Zuber counterattacked, wounding the boy''s hip on the left side. The boy positioned his staff with Ax¨¦ concentrated on Zuber''s shoulder. He struck with the other.


    The possessing spirit sensed that this could knock him out. He used the iron skin all over his body. The stick with repulsive force came down like a hammer. The impact was so great that the weight of the batons didn''t double in size, it increased the impact tenfold. The ground around Zuber cracked. However, the spirit was not knocked out.


    With a slow movement, he struck Akachi back. The young man leapt into the air and kicked Zuber in the jaw, but to no avail.


    I saw something interesting this time.


    He got slower with the Iron Skin.


    Not only that. Let''s go again. Do that trick of throwing stone projectiles. From underground.


    Akachi concentrated his Ax¨¦ on his feet. He caused the ground to crack and the stones to float. Using his repulsion, he projected them towards Zuber. A curtain of dust was formed by the possessing spirit''s quick defense. Unusually, Akachi''s two sticks came flying towards his chest.


    With a swing of his javelin, he batted them away. Yasini''s Ori Guardian felt a twinge in his right arm. He had been distracted by Akachi throwing his two weapons at him. He had lost one of his upper limbs. Zuber gritted his teeth. He tried to javelin his opponent with his other arm, but was immobilized.


    "You have a thick, dense layer of iron over your skin. But it makes you very heavy. That''s why you have to avoid covering your joints in order to keep moving. It''s over for you, Zuber."


    "Not yet, Fenyang. It''s only over when it''s over."


    Even with his arm immobilized, his hand clung to Akachi''s injured shoulder. It stuck its claw-like fingers into the wound. Blood gushed out once more. The two stood there measuring strength until Zuber''s legs began to wobble. His eyes rolled back in their sockets. His black face took on a yellowish, sickly look.


    He collapsed to the ground. He tried to get up, but couldn''t. With his face immersed in dust, he raised his face and mocked his opponents:


    "I never imagined that an Ori keeper like me would have such a hard time with two losers like you. Worse than losing to you, it''s a draw."


    "A draw? You''re just playing for a draw. We won, you asshole!"


    "You won, Akachi, are you sure? You can barely stand."


    Akachi also collapsed to the ground. He got on all fours and crawled over to Zuber. He clenched his fist, gritted his teeth. He threw a punch. He couldn''t hit his opponent. He collapsed first.


    "You won''t last now, you bastard. Wake up so we can hit you some more."


    "Akachi, that was your baptism of fire. I''ve never faced a match as tough as this."


    "This is just the first, Fenyang. We don''t know how many others we''ll face on our journey."

 Song 27: The Happy Prince of a sad kingdom

    The night after the shooting by the Spin Bomb group and Chekandino, Happy Prince returned home. A helicopter from the state broadcaster took him there. Inside the aircraft, he saw the cameraman''s coffin. He gave a bitter smile. Luckily, he hadn''t been the one to return in a mahogany wooden box.


    The metal bird flew over the wall. The digital influencer from the metaverse looked out of the window. He had the feeling that every time he returned to Ilu Nla, he felt more foreign. That''s why he sought to travel more and more, to encounter more and more bizarre and unknown things.


    Despite all the glitter, the metropolis hid within it a set of shadows. The edge of the city was a heap of uninhabited buildings. They were only used for real estate speculation by the city''s construction companies. Their cylindrical skyscrapers and oval buildings conveyed a sense of monotony.


    The helicopter landed in the prime area of the city, on the helipad above the Happy Prince penthouse. The man got off, the body of his cameraman would be sent to the family for identification. The journalist took the elevator without looking back. He didn''t want to be reminded of the existence of finitude.


    He took the stairs and arrived at his luxurious triplex penthouse. It was a succession of labyrinthine rooms that had been used for parties, cocktail parties and other events. The Happy Prince undressed in the closet and put on his robe. He went into the kitchen, kneading his temples with his fingertips.


    He picked up a glass and poured water from the tap. She opened the drawer impatiently. He found an old painkiller for a headache. He took the medicine. He sat down on a high three-legged stool; he hated sitting in places that made him feel low.


    Suddenly, his smartphone vibrated repeatedly. He picked up the device. An app was downloading automatically. He thought he had been hacked. He realized that it wasn''t, but he was still annoyed. He opened the application. Without the need to register, the app started a chat on an infinite, dark scrolling screen.


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    Fvb zapss ohclu''a zlua


    pu fvby ylwvya, Ohwwf


    Wypujl. Aol Pualsspnlujl


    Zlycpjl pz clyf zhk dolu


    fvb kvu''a npcl huf uldz.


    P''cl ihylsf hyypclk pu Psb


    Ush, Nlulyhs Sbluh. P zaps


    ohclu''a kbzalk vmm aol


    yvhk, aol zalujo vm Joyvtl


    Opss pz zapss vu tl.


    Doha h zohtl! Bumvyabuhalsf,


    aol lultplz vm aol zahal dvu''a


    dhpa mvy fvb av ahrl fvby


    svclsf ihao dpao hyvthapj


    olyiz huk ihao zhsaz. Aol


    Jpyjsl vm Zhnlz pz zapss ha


    dvyr huk ohz klzayvflk h uld


    wshua mvy vby uld tpspahyf


    jvtwsle vu aol opno zlhz. Aol


    ubtily vm zftwhaopglyz pz


    nyvdpun vujl hnhpu. Vby


    huap-tlkpbt jhtwhpnu ohzu''a


    ohk aol klzpylk lmmlja. Dl ullk


    h uld mhja.


    Tf tvvk mvy Ylhswvspapr pz


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    clyf svd. P''cl svza aol ilza


    jhtlyhthu P''cl lcly ohk. Pm


    fvb hzr tl, Joyvtl Opss pz zaps


    ilhbapmbs. Aolyl''z h tpeabyl vm


    yvthuapj ihukpayf huk ispuk,


    buiypkslk olkvupzt.


    P kvu''a dhua ivoltphu wvlayf


    ha aopz aptl vm upnoa, Ohwwf


    Wypujl. P ullk ylwvyalk mhjaz.


    Zvtlaopun jvujylal, ahunpisl.


    Hsaovbno aol klhao vm aoha


    jhtlyhthu jvbsk jvtl pu ohukf.


    Dl jvbsk pujylhzl aol pthnl vm


    jyptpuhspaf pu aol Psb Ush zsbtz.


    Pualyuhapvuhs ivkplz hyl wbaapun


    wylzzbyl vu aol nvclyutlua.


    Aolf hyl hjjbzpun bz vm ilpun


    zlnylnhapvupzaz. Ovd whaolapj,


    dl''yl qbza zhupapgpun vby zvjplaf


    vm aolzl vbajhzaz.


    P dhz pu Joyvtl Opss vu aol


    wylalea vm wyvkbjpun h


    kvjbtluahyf hivba aol ylwyvkbjapvu


    vm aol tbahua ofluhz aoha spcl


    vu aol vbazrpyaz vm aol zsbtz.


    Pu aol tpkksl vm yljvykpun, Hah''z


    fvbunly adpu iyvaoly, Jolrhukpuv,


    haahjrlk bz dpao opz ayvbwl.


    Tf nbpklz mvbnoa ihjr huk isld


    opz hytz vmm, ohohohoh. Pa dhz


    zwslukpk. Sbjrpsf, ol zbycpclk.


    Haahjrpun Hah''z hzzovsl spaasl


    iyvaoly pz h jhss av dhy. Doha


    dhz Jluayhs Jvtthuk aopurpun av


    hssvd zvtlaopun sprl aoha?


    Tf nbpklz dlylu''a kybn klhslyz,


    aolf dlyl uvviz vm aol dvyza rpuk.


    Pu aol tpkza vm hss aopz abytvps,


    P mvbuk zvtlaopun aoha aol Wohshue


    ohz illu svvrpun mvy h svun aptl¡­


    Doha? Kvu''a thrl h mbzz, qbza zhf pa.


    Hrhjop, Hkpzh''z zvu.


    Pm aol Jpyjsl vm Zhnlz ohku''a


    illu npcpun tl zv tbjo ayvbisl vcly


    aol shza mld khfz, P''k nv huk nla


    aopz iyha tfzlsm. Dlss, aol Olhk


    vm aol Hytz Ayhmmpjrpun


    Kpcpzpvu vm aol Mvbyao Lzahal


    pz vby ohuk vu aol Ibyulk Jpyjbpa


    Jvtwsle. Pm aol nhunzalyz rpss


    lhjo vaoly, huk avnlaoly ahrl


    Hrhjop''z spml, nvvk. Qbza pu jhzl,


    P''ss hzr Hah av iypun opt ihjr av


    tl hspcl. Pa dpss il h nylha npma


    mvy vby wylzpklua Vqdhun.


    Lclu pm Hah kvlzu''a nla opt,


    P''cl uvtpuhalk opt av nv av aol


    mpnoapun avbyuhtluaz pu aol


    jpaf''z buklynyvbuk. P nhcl opt


    mhszl ovwl.


    Fvb''yl clyf jybls, Wypujl Ohwwf.


    Fvb ruvd aoha vby avbyuhtlua


    avkhf pz uv svunly hivba luspzapun


    tlyjluhyplz, iba abyupun aolt puav


    jfivynz av zdlss aol yhurz vm vby


    hytf. Pm ol zbycpclz aol dhy iladllu


    aol Jluayhs Jvtthuk huk aol Mvbyao


    Lzahal, P''ss thrl zbyl Hrhjop dpuz.


    Nvvkifl Ohwwf Wypujl, fvby


    Jylkpipa dpss mhss puav fvby


    kpnpahs dhssla ilmvyl khfspnoa.


    Buaps aol ylwvya wyvjlzz¡­


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    After ending the conversation, the app deleted the entire conversation and closed itself. Its programming deleted all of the app''s records on the smartphone, even from the recycle garbage can. Prince Happy threw the glass at the wall. The shards of glass fell onto the kitchen floor. A robot vacuum came out from under the cupboard.


    It quickly collected the shards of glass and returned under the kitchen cupboard. The journalist smiled. This was the kind of comfort he had fought to achieve. He was at the top. He was at what the mercs called the Apogee. And that''s what Apogee was, the passive luxury of a lonely man.


    Happy Prince went into the en suite bathroom. He stopped in front of the sink mirror. He turned on the silver-plated taps. The water ran in a spiral. He washed his face several times with his shell-shaped hands, but the feeling of dirt was still there. The more she tried to wash her face, the dirtier it felt. He smiled, and his reflection revealed a mask of agony.

 Song 28: The art of war factor

    Yasini woke up with her head pounding like a gong. Her ribs ached and her shoulder hurt too. She looked away. A lady with plant branches was rubbing the leaves over her body. She shook the leaves from head to toe, as if she were sweeping the ailments from her body. The old woman kept the prayer firmly on her withered lips.


    Mother Ilza was an old praying woman. She was a healer in the eyes of the superstitious, a practitioner of folk medicine by scientists, a saint for the sick. M?e Ilza was all this and more. With her rites, she expelled illness from the body through words and nature. That''s what illness was: negative energy accumulated in the body.


    When she had finished praying, she picked up the dried leaves and left the room. She returned with a healing herbal ointment. She applied the green paste to Yasini''s skin. He spasmed. The woman continued the treatment even more carefully. When she had finished, she lit a pipe and said:


    "Almost, you saw my son. If that boy hadn''t brought you to the slum, I would have given it to you at night."


    "Thank you, Mother Ilza. I''m glad you''re still here."


    "You could be and you could not be. Stop doing these things. Don''t play games with death. It''s asleep for some, and with its eyes wide open for others."


    "I know, Mother Ilza."


    "There are people who want to see you. Shall I send them in?"


    "Yes."


    Mother Ilza got up and left. Kinyua walked through the door and came across a frail Yasini. The medium was sitting up in bed, leaning against the headboard. Bandages with ointment had been tied to his body. The dark circles under his eyes showed that he had had a hard night.


    The boss of Chrome Hill had been startled by the news that his bodyguard, his second-in-command, had been knocked out by a kid. He didn''t know anything about mediumship, but if Yasini had lost to Akachi, it was because the boy had potential.


    Kinyua lit his mint vape. He pulled out an old chair with torn upholstery and said:


    "Then buy a box of candles for our old lady."


    "You bet, I''ll buy more than that."


    "I never imagined you''d lose to that kid, Yasini. You''re losing your touch."


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "It was a technical draw."


    "That''s not what your injuries say. Akachi brought you to the gate on your back. After that he passed out too. He woke up two hours later. He still needed medical attention. His situation was different. He looked like a dead man, man, you''re very ugly when you''re close to death."


    He remembered vaguely. He had been possessed by his Ori Guardian. He didn''t know if he was weak as a medium or if Zuber was too powerful for him. The spirit wasn''t around. He wanted to avoid an argument with his medium. Yasini wasn''t worried about that.


    Kinyua snapped his fingers to get the young adult''s attention. He crossed his legs and exhaled the greenish smoke.


    "We''re in big trouble. The Fourth Estate has cut off our arms suppliers. No smuggler, whether local or international, wants to do business with us. We''re running out of time. Our informants have sung us a bad song. Ilu Nla seems to have a close relationship with Ata. They''re using the son of a bitch to create a genocide. They''ve sold him cutting-edge military weapons, from jetpacks to bipod tanks. We''re short on weapons, bro. If the Fourth Estate gets in here, it''ll fuck everyone up. I might fall, but I want to fall shooting. I just don''t have any weapons."


    "We can intercept the incoming cargo¡­"


    "Are you crazy, Yasini? It''s the Armed Forces and the militia''s Arms Trafficking Division. I don''t want to die, Dad. I need a way around this situation, and now."


    The medium became pensive. For him, war needed two basic things to happen: weapons and people willing to kill or die. The struggle for geopolitical and economic hegemony after the industrial revolution, the kidnapping of a woman by a foreign king, the division of a country over slavery issues, all served war.


    Yasini saw war as the language of civilization. They were born, grew up, went to war and died devoured by other civilizations. Much of this philosophy was dissolving by the drop. I was no longer a medium, a warrior belonging to a clan with the respect of the people and a stake in the affairs of state.


    Now he was just a mercenary selling his skills to the highest bidder. At the very least, to whoever would give him the best shelter. However, he was still alive. He could experience war and end up at the end of his journey. To meet the criteria of life, as his master said. Yasini turned to Kinyua.


    "Polymer weapons."


    "What?"


    "3D-printed ABS firearms. Hackers can download models from military companies'' databases. In Chrome Hill, there are many of these printers. We can confiscate them and use them to increase our arsenal."


    Kinyua let another puff out of his lungs. He smiled like a child receiving a sweet. He hadn''t thought about it until then. He clapped his hands. He said goodbye to the medium and left.


    The room fell silent. The lamp flickered, emitting a fickle light. Yasini pulled the blanket tighter.


    "ZUBER! Come out, pig spirit."


    The spirit floated in with its arms and legs crossed, its head down. It avoided looking at its medium.


    "Don''t shout at me like that, you idiot. I''m still your ancestor."


    "You had the audacity to possess my body, and you still lost the fight. It was all about control¡­"


    "All about your lack of control, that''s what! We underestimated the little boy. That kid''s got some fiber. Despite everything, he saved your filthy life. After that, I gave in. Those two idiots are real warriors."


    "Akachi has always been a mystery to me. Perhaps the Spiritual Key of Faith is safer with him. I have a feeling he''s going to change things around here."


    "How are you so sure?"


    "I''m not, it''s just an intuition."

 Song 29: Necropolitics

    On the outskirts of the Burned Circuit Complex, a military convoy was parked. Half a dozen trucks in camouflage paint, full of weapons to be unloaded. The buyer was a member of the Cupola, the head of the Arms Trafficking Division, the ex-military Ata. He was the mediator of these purchases.


    The corrupt lower ranks of the military saw a good chance to make money. They sold weapons to enemies of the state. But it was all theater, and the corrupted, like their corruptors, were just a cog in the larger scheme of things. The fact that they were being manipulated did not exonerate them from guilt.


    Among the arms dealers were several soldiers from the Ilu Nla Intelligence Service in disguise. The agency was headed by one of the Phalanx members. Arms trafficking was a state policy. Urban violence kept people in their places. The factions attacked each other, weakening each other in the process.


    Those who weren''t killed in the conflicts were imprisoned in mass. That''s what prisons were for. The retention of individuals involved in crime had a single objective: to slow down the pace of urban violence. These forces had to be prevented from turning against the state.


    Ata saw himself as having a greater role in all of this. He was suspended over the dialectics of civilization. It was a skewed panopticon view. He thought he knew everything, but he didn''t know much. He hadn''t removed the beam from his eye. He never would.


    The militiaman and the lieutenant at the head of the negotiation stood facing each other. Cynically, the man saluted Ata.


    "It''s very good to do business with the Fourth Estate, Mr. Ata."


    The military man held out his gloved hand to the militiaman. The criminal responded complacently to the handshake.


    "The Fourth Estate thanks you for your good service, Lieutenant."


    "Even on the other side of the wall, you''re still an example to us, Mr. Ata."


    The lieutenant, a member of the Intelligence Service, knew that the best way to corrupt someone was to massage their ego. Not in a blatant or exaggerated way, but in a subtle way, without listing a list of virtues. This was the way to get an excellent ally against the common enemy.


    It was an infallible tactic for uniting opposites. Forged out of fear, prejudice and loathing, militiamen and soldiers joined hands to fight the Central Command. The drug dealers of Chrome Hill embodied the seven sins and would burn at the stake of the social inquisition.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Those who carried out and watched the execution would leave with a feeling of purgation. They would be purified again, evil had been vanquished by the fire of justice. It is in the smoke of the pyrotechnics of justice that crimes forgotten by history are hidden.


    The military and militiamen said goodbye. The wallets of some are filled with cryptocurrencies, while the hearts of others are filled with vanity. Ata''s pride is notorious. His black eyes sparkle with every Fourth Estate truck filled with steel cases stuffed with weapons. He wished his younger brother was there.


    Lovelie, who was watching everything, decided to get out of the jeep and get dirty with the dust of the arid land. She walked up to her lover and put her hand on his shoulder. The man turned around. Even though everyone knew that the two had sex every night, Ata kept a low profile in the public eye. It was the remnant of his military etiquette.


    "You look like a child who''s been given a new toy, Ata."


    "Not one, several state-of-the-art toys. If Chekandino saw that, he''d go crazy. He''s crazy about these things!"


    The woman grimaced. She crossed her arms in self-defense. She hated hearing that name, and with such devotion, coming from the mouth of her beloved. Sometimes she wished that Chekandino would die so that she wouldn''t have to compete for her lover''s attention with his twin brother. She understood how important family was to him, but she didn''t want it to be more important than her.


    "If he were here, he''d make a mess. He''d open one of those containers and a bipedal tank would come in and shoot himself in the foot."


    "The way you put it, my brother''s a complete asshole. He''s just¡­ impulsive. He''s not the monster people make him out to be."


    No, he''s worse. He''s a sociopathic butcher, addicted to drugs and sex. He''s only alive because he uses his shadow to hide, you asshole. Juta was right, we should have taken action against Chekandino. If he died, I''d have him all to myself, Ata.


    "Come on, Lovelie. I want to raid Chrome Hill in two days."


    "That''ll be a week earlier. The men need to do a sweep to remove electronic bugs, test the machines and arm everything. They also need to get to grips with the new systems¡­"


    "All right, Lovelie. You always convince me. Five days, I won''t tolerate more than that."


    "I''d prefer a week, but five is enough. The attack will happen a week earlier than planned. A gun is for shooting, my dear. If you keep it on the shelf, it will rust. I hate seeing guns as decorative pieces. Come on, Lovelie, don''t insist!"


    The pair headed for the jeep. Ata took the wheel and the treasurer of the Fourth Estate sat in the back seat. They drove the convoy to the Burned Circuit Complex. They drove up the hill, turning left to where the Fourth Estate''s warehouse was. The extensive warehouse where the faction kept its weapons and ammunition was opened.


    Inside, the vehicles parked. One by one, the steel containers and boxes were unloaded. Militiamen with x-ray scanners and frequency pickups analyzed the group''s acquisitions. None of the weapons were bugged or detonated. Everything was clean for the dirty war.


    Terminals were connected to the bipedal tanks, tactical combat armor, and the jetpacks'' asymmetric magnetic propulsion cells were installed. Ata climbed the stairs of the shed and went to the top floor. From there, he saw his private army working like ants. He felt like a king. He raised his arms and congratulated himself.

 Song 30: The silence that precedes the explosion

    Yasini became Chrome Hill''s strategist. He was the only one in Chrome Hill with any expertise on the subject. When he received word from spies that the Fourth Estate was preparing for an attack the next morning, he organized the soldiers on the hill. He defined groups of half a dozen, each with a leader.


    The Central Command would opt for a guerrilla war line of defense. The streets below were barricaded with cars and alligators, which are spiked metal structures that prevent the enemy from advancing. In the streets above, iron and concrete poles were installed, as well as burning garbage cans.


    Women and children were evacuated to the dump, and a group stayed there to protect them. Everyone who could hold a gun, from fourteen to sixty, stayed behind. It was the first time that many of them had fingered the trigger. Some were excited by the adrenaline of the moment, without measuring the future consequences. Others felt fear freeze their spine, they knew they were going to die.


    Yasini knew that the war would not take place vertically, in other words, the Fourth Estate would not go up to the slum to take control. It would be like the Sanko Sakusen, the same ''Three Everything¡¯s'' of the summer of 1941 on the plains of Hebei and Shandong: the militia would kill everything, burn everything and loot everything.


    It was a war driven by revenge against an overprotective brother. The medium knew better than anyone that this was the worst kind of enemy, the adversary with no ambition of his own, driven by pure hatred.


    To placate Ata''s fury, he adopted the Coup de Main strategy. There would be five lines of defense of five hundred meters each, in ascending order of men. The first line would give the initial fire with light weapons, in a quick and direct attack. Then the second line would retreat, and so on until the last.


    In the interval between the lines of defense, groups of light artillery would go on a raid. They would ambush the militia besiegers, confident that the defensive lines had retreated. They would use rocket launchers and hand grenade launchers, as well as tracked machine-gun turrets, .50 ammunition, with a movement sensor. Lines of wire were installed to slow down the enemy''s advance in the narrow alleys of Chrome Hill.


    Spin Bonb, Akachi, Okafor and volunteers installed a belt of firework sword bundles with a high concentration of gunpowder, with rusty nails inside. These would serve as improvised shrapnel bombs. Without electronic detonators, they would be difficult to trace. They were hidden inside garbage cans, with a wick that would last ten minutes.


    Gathered in a room, Yasini gave his last orders. He asked Spin Bomb to stay in the last line of defense, but she insisted on being in the vanguard and helping with the detonation.


    "Are you crazy, Spin Bomb? Ata must see you as the main target. If Chekandino catches you in the middle of the mess, no one will save you."


    "And what fun is that? If you''re going to die, let it be in the lead."


    "I''ll go with her, Master Yasini."


    "You''re just as reckless as she is, Akachi. I''m not your nanny, do what you want!"


    A soldier from the slum entered the war office of the Central Command. He asked permission to speak to Yasini.


    "What, is the enemy already moving?"


    "No, sir. It''s a journalist."


    "Another culture vulture, send him away."


    "No, Yasini. I don''t know much about war, but I do know something you can''t deny, bro: the power of the press. Beating the enemy in the media will improve my mood too. Drug dealers have their vanities too, you know?"


    "All right, search him. Make sure he hasn''t been bugged, get his ID¡­"


    "We''ve already done that, sir."


    "All right, send him in!"


    A man almost two meters tall, wearing a beautiful dark matte slim suit entered the room. He adjusted the narrow rectangular frame of his dark glasses and smiled gratefully. Yasini felt a shiver run down her spine at the sight of the slender, confident man in front of her.


    "Who are you? I don''t want any corps getting in my way."


    "I''m not a corp, rest assured. I''m a gonzo journalist. I''m not going to write a story describing the events of this war, I''m going to take part in it objectively. My writing will convey the fact through my subjectivity. There will be no distinction between my point of view and the factual"


    "I didn''t understand a fucking word that guy said, Yasini. If you''re going to shoot around, at least hit our enemy, hahahaha. It won''t be free, Kinyua here needs to pay the bills at the end of the month. You know, business. What''s your name again?"


    "My name is Mr. Nobody."


    "A mysterious journalist, with even more mysterious purposes. Are you sure you''re going to allow this guy to circulate among us, Chief Kinyua?"


    "What''s a fart to someone who''s already shit? Leave this guy there, if you pay me well, you can go on your urban safari, Mr. Nobody."


    "Thank you, gentlemen, I promise not to interfere¡­ too much."


    ?


    Ata gathered his private army. He felt a taste in his mouth, it was the taste of power. There were two thousand men at his disposal, dressed in state-of-the-art combat armor. The logistics of war were favorable to him. He had two helicopters with fly-by-wire technology, rockets, anti-tank missiles and 7.62 mm gatling guns.


    Four three-meter-high armored bipedal tanks. On the right shoulder, it had an adapted SIMBAD-RC missile launcher with mistral short-range surface-to-air warheads. On the left shoulder, a medium-range cannon-taser. On the left arm, a 122 mm automatic reloading rocket launcher. On the right arm, a retractable bayonet-flanker with an overheating blade.


    Finally, two hundred jetpacks. This would allow for an effective air-to-surface attack. Ata knew that all the force multipliers had been set up. He had such confidence that nothing could shake him at that moment. Facing his well-trained and heavily armed men, he climbed into his bipedal tank and gave a speech with the cockpit open:


    "Today will be the great day of victory and justice. We will avenge our dead against the Central Command!"


    Those present raised their weapons. Their morale was high. They would follow Ata into hell if they had to.


    "These dirty drug dealers will no longer defile our community. We''re going to bring the peace that the state and its corrupt institutions haven''t brought to the slums. Our military strategy will be Kill Box. Each unit will advance in a semi-autonomous and coordinated manner on the battlefield. Each unit will only respond to our War Control Center. Advance without mercy or pity."


    The Kill Box was in purple mode, meaning it covered air-to-surface attacks without the need for command authorization. The Chrome Hill slum was divided into a grid, like a chessboard. Three-dimensional blocks of thirty miles by thirty miles followed one another until they filled its 877,575 square kilometers.


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    30


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    29


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    28


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    27


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    26


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    25


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    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


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    24


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    23


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    22


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    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    21


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    20


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    19


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    18


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    17


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    16


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    15


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    14


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    13


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    12


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    11


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    10


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    09


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    08


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    07


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    06


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    05


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    04


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    03


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.27846%" width="19">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.18739%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="16">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.82311%" width="18">


    02


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.54991%" width="17">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.36952%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 2.91418%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.09632%" width="18">


    </td>


    <td style="width: 3.00525%" width="18">


    </td>


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    01


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    AF


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    AH


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    AA


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    Chrome Hill would be a free-fire area. The territory would be controlled without its respective domain. It would facilitate the engagement of Fourth Estate troops and the mutual support and protection of troops. The Kill Box had a life cycle: open, activate, operate and close. It was like wrapping a genocide as a present.


    The militiaman saluted, which was reciprocated by all his men. The soldiers marched off. The helicopters were already turning their propellers outside the shed. Suddenly, a particular video call appeared on the monitor: it was the Head of the Juta Drug Trafficking Division. His eyes were bulging, he was rushing down the corridors:


    "Ata¡­ arf¡­ burf¡­ are you all right?"


    "What''s the matter, why are you so scared?"


    "The¡­ urf¡­ The Cupola of the Fourth Estate has been attacked. They''re all dead in our building."


    "Stop snorting, man! I don''t understand anything. Speak slowly."


    "No, I had to run away. It was an attack by Central Command. They''re all dead, Ata. Even Lovelie. Damn it, they''re coming after me¡­"


    "Don''t hang up, you cowardly son of a bitch!"


    The militiaman swallowed. He punched the control panel. He screamed without anyone being able to hear his suffering. Hatred flowed through his veins and accumulated in his heart. He activated the controls and left the shed. Ata didn''t know it, but at that moment he had lost the parade.

 Song 31: War is war - Part 1

    The dawn on Chrome Hill was covered in silence and dew. The labyrinthine cancer called the slum. One that even Jorge Luis Borges would get lost in, who wouldn''t? The sun shone its bright rays through the alleys. A pinkish-red halo, an eyewitness to everyday life.


    The morning dew began to evaporate and the cobwebs began to decompose. Pigeons scampered up and down the streetlamps full of clandestine connections. The rustle of their wings struck fear into the hearts that were beating wildly. There was a general feeling of unease. Death whispered seductively.


    Entrenched, the forces of Central Command awaited their enemies. Their fingers rubbed anxiously against the trigger. No one wanted to be there. What choice did they have? In the slum, you die of everything except boredom. There''s always a hypo-modern tragedy played out live, distributed by the hegemonic media in every home.


    Spin Bomb and Akachi were in the first line of improvised infantry.


    The swordsmith was wearing gray camouflage pants with several pockets from waist to shin. The sleeveless dark leather cropped top gave her the freedom of movement she needed to launch her explosives. Part of her curly hair was braided into a tiara. She wore boots with no laces.


    With his clothes torn from the previous fight, Akachi wore a white tank top with the Olodum symbol printed on the front. Dark denim shorts with a frayed hem would help him with mobility. The wooden leather sneakers belonged to Spin Bomb''s older brother, but they served him well as his new footwear.


    "They''re coming."


    Suddenly, behind the startled duo, Lord Nobody appeared. Spin Bomb''s heart almost spat out. The young woman swallowed and screamed:


    "FUCK YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"


    "Mr. Nobody, please don''t arrive so suddenly. We can''t be scared to death before we fight."


    "Sorry, I didn''t mean to scare you."


    "Thank you!"


    "The guy stole my artificer''s sword? Where''s the Criminal Court when you need it? You old son of a bitch!"


    "Spin Bomb, he''s gone. No, wait, look over there."


    A helicopter flew over them. It started machine-gunning. The entrenched men sneaked behind the barricades. In the distance, the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard. A cacophony of minor marching also became audible. They looked over the barricades.


    The troops of the Fourth Estate were advancing. Lined up and with guns pointed at their opponents. A shock battalion of a hundred men, with two lines of advance. The first with protective shields, and the second with light artillery, armed with 12-gauge pump-action bull-pup shotguns.


    In the middle of the first shots, the militiamen threw tear bombs. Some managed to throw them over the barricades before they exploded. Others were hit by fragments of the bombs. Their hands were cut off and their faces hit hard.


    Their comrades dragged them away, pouring a solution of water and vinegar on their faces to reduce the effect of the gas. The traffickers covered their faces with back masks and visors made of soda bottles and wire.


    "Lead these sons of bitches, boys."


    Spin Bomb fired up his portable torch, lit the wicks and launched several fireworks at the militiamen. They reached a speed of sixty kilometers per hour. They could knock someone out if they hit them in the head. Their trajectory was irregular and they would explode at any moment.


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    While their opponents tried to hit them with the explosive artifacts that snaked through the air emitting sparks, those from Chrome returned fire. This didn''t intimidate the Fourth Estate troops. They continued to advance with speed. Spin Bomb felt something vibrate around her waist. Someone called her on the radio communicator, she answered angrily.


    "Hey, bro!"


    "Spin Bomb, it''s Yasini. The helicopters and bipedal tanks are giving close artillery fire. Isn''t it about time we lit the fuses?"


    "Fire away, Yasini! Guys, light the fuses and fall back. We''ve gotten minutes, don''t fall behind or you''ll turn into greaves."


    On the other side of the barricades, Ata''s twin took the lead. He had heard Spin Bomb''s squeaky voice. Chekandino was out of his mind. His brother had offered combat drugs to the militiamen, but he didn''t settle for one, he took three consecutive doses in the early hours of the morning. He was teetering between an overdose that would implode his bloodstream and a fit of rage.


    "Is that you, you pyrotechnic whore? I''m going to get you, Spin Bomb. I''m going to fuck you up. I''m going to kill you!"


    "Fuck you, asshole. Come on, people, leave those militiaman¡¯s there."


    Everyone started running. Chekandino, with his new cybertechs, didn''t even run, he trotted like an animal. He jumped over obstacles like a parkour practitioner. The militiamen who had fallen behind looked at each other. The crazed sociopath stopped at the barricade made of cars and shouted:


    "Forward, you bunch of faggots!"


    Chrome Hill''s first line of defense set off in the direction of the second. However, a boy tried to provide cover for his companions. When he tried to unlock his gun, he got in the way and shot himself in the foot. He fell to the ground. He groaned in pain.


    Spin Bomb and the medium stopped running. If Chekandino caught him, it would be the end of him. Fenyang came up behind Akachi and said:


    "Look, bro''s down. Go and give your partner a hand."


    "I got it!"


    Chekandino prepared his shotgun. He aimed at the young man''s forehead. The movie of death played on the big screen of his consciousness. The credits didn''t roll. With extreme speed, Akachi saved the boy. With the fainted teenager on his lap, Akachi ran in the opposite direction to the militiaman.


    Under shotgun fire, the artisan and Adisa''s son fled. Their opponents came after them. Chekandino ordered his men to advance. He would take the pair''s lives into his own hands. Firing several shots with his shotgun and boosted by the combat drugs, Ata''s brother showed no signs of tiring.


    His muscles stiffened, his veins popped out of his skin. His appearance became more monstrous with every passing minute. The new cyberware on his arms and legs sent discharges through his joints. They indicated a future rejection due to a build-up of endorphins. They were overloading the psychomotor system.


    The trio fled down a series of alleys. The escape routes were shortened from there. Spin Bomb and Akachi looked at each other. The madman was on their tail. The medium thought about handing the teenager over to the artisan to carry and him facing Ata''s brother. Suddenly, someone called out from a nearby alley, startling them.


    "Hey, you guys, bring Chekandino over here?"


    "Mr. Nobody? I think that''s a terrible idea."


    "Don''t worry, I''ll do an exclusive interview with him, huhuhu."


    They walked down the alley. The man in the suit gave way. Chekandino followed close behind. The smoke bomb fell on him. He fired at the end of the alley in an attempt to hit someone. His eyes watered. He tried to push the gray smoke away with his cybernetic hands, to no avail.


    Something jumped out behind him. The militiaman turned around, but it was too late. He''d been caught with a net. The string, covered in cobbler''s glue and iron filings, had embedded itself in his flesh. Mr. Nobody took the shotgun from his hand. He shot him in the stomach. Chekandino fell to the ground. He threw up his breakfast.


    The captured man stirred. He tried to escape from the net. Mr. Nobody kicked the militiaman in the face with the toe of his shoe. His nose broke, spurting blood like a fountain. Ata''s twin clutched his face with his hands to stop the bleeding. Blood ran down his metal fingers.


    "You¡­ snif-snif¡­ son of a bitch!"


    "Oh, you poor son of a bitch. I hate having to deal with little shits like you, Chekandino. You''re like that turd in the public toilet that nobody wants to flush. Even so, you''ll play your part in this plot. Every war needs a scapegoat for diversion."


    "Ata¡­ snif¡­ save me¡­"


    Chekandino tried to run, but the man in the suit stepped on the net, preventing him from reaching the shotgun. The cerol threads were getting into his flesh, which increased the size of both wounds. In some places, you could already see the white of the cartilage.


    "Ata won''t come to save you. You''ve been brought up the wrong way, like a boy brought up by his grandmother. Your twin brother overprotected you to the point where you couldn''t be a man in a time of need."


    "ATA, HELP!"


    "Do you like hypnotherapy? It might help you, Chekandino."


    The militiaman burst into tears. Mr. Nobody took out an old silver coin from his jacket pocket. With his right hand, he spun the coin between the fingers of his right hand. The prisoner tried to aim in another direction. The other pulled out a pistol in his left hand and pointed the barrel at his victim''s temple.


    "Don''t worry, Chekandino. It won''t hurt¡­ at least, not me."


    "Ata¡­ snif-snif¡­ come and get me¡­ snif¡­ my little brother."

 Song 32: War is war - Part 2

    The helicopters of the Fourth Estate, in an aerial ballet, bombed Kinyua''s mansion. No one was inside. It was a way of preventing the Central Command from using it as an operations center or refuge. The Ch''ilif¨©ti I pilot saw a line of fire forming from top to bottom of the slum.


    A group of drug traffickers retreated to a second line of defense. The weapons operator was impressed. The militiamen''s shock troops had been taken by surprise. The defense organization wasn''t as powerful, but it had proved efficient so far. There were barricades, ambushes and five lines of defense in exponential depth.


    Coordinating the attack with Ch''ilif¨©ti II, the pair unloaded their machine guns on the fugitives. The projectiles tore their bodies apart. Limbs fell mutilated along the way. The desperation of the escape prevented the victims from understanding their mortal stage. It was a way for the mind to protect itself from the misery of the body.


    Many died without realizing it. The bodies kept running and shooting. When they reached cover, they collapsed epileptically to the ground. Chromo''s forces soon became aware of the militia''s air support. They exchanged fire with the aircraft. The pilot of the Ch''ilif¨©ti I maneuvered the aircraft, but the pilot of the other helicopter was no more agile.


    His tail rotor was hit by a hand-held rocket launcher. The aircraft began to spin in the sky, but stabilized. The armored cowling emitted grey smoke from the rear, but the small propellers remained active.


    "Pilot, this is Ch''ilif¨©ti I. Your aircraft has been hit hard. Approach flights not recommended, over."


    "Affirmative, pilot. We''ll withdraw to the rear and give air support to the infantry."


    The weapons operator informed the pilot of the Ch''ilif¨©ti I that Commander Ata had contacted him.


    "Air support, report situation."


    "There was little resistance from hostile forces, sir. The first line of defense has been broken by the shock troops of the Fourth Estate. They are overcoming the curtain of flames formed by the homemade bombs. Light infantry and artillery are advancing, sir."


    "Incompetents! How did they get caught in such a trick? We''re in the Kill Box. The box is open, just blow up everything inside. It''s a bloody slum, we''ve dealt with enemies more powerful than these."


    "Positive, sir. They''re minor embarrassments in our campaign, but we''ll beat them."


    "Have you seen my brother on the battlefield? Tell me you saw him, pilot?"


    Glup! The pilot was silent. He turned to the weapons operator in the seat behind and above. The fellow nodded.


    "Negative, sir. After the infiltration, we didn''t see him again."


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    There was a silence in the communication. A silence that spoke more than a thousand words. The breathing on the other side of the communicator became heavy. As if the air was coming in, tearing through his lungs and stubbornly refusing to go out. Finally, in a deep, almost animalistic voice, Ata ordered:


    "Bomb the Emergency Care Units, the schools and the nurseries."


    The pilot was paralyzed. His body stiffened in his seat. His fingers loosened on the stick. The aircraft became a little aimless. The dashboard showed slight turbulence. The weapons operator in the back kicked the seat to snap him out of his stupor.


    "Are you crazy, pilot, do you want to kill us?"


    "Sorry."


    The Emergency Care Units, or ECUs, were public health centers. They provided preventive care and family health. Basic health units were scrapped, with a shortage of professionals, poor or unfinished structures. They lacked medicines, professionals and equipment for medical procedures and basic tests.


    They were crowded every day, always exceeding their maximum capacity. Inside those institutions, there were only people too weak to fight or run away. Old people, children, pregnant women and those admitted on stretchers and even in the corridors.


    Epidemic diseases were recurrent in the slums due to the lack of basic sanitation and education integrated into the hospital networks. Many children barely had the habit of washing their hands before eating. Chrome Hill experienced a health crisis during rainy periods, due to flooding from the streams, and in summer due to pollution and dehydration.


    The pilot of the Ch''ilif¨©ti I, a former member of the Ilu Nla Armed Forces and now a militiaman in the service of the Fourth Estate, was familiar with the situation. Most of the lower-ranking soldiers came from the lowest rungs of society in the great metropolis. He didn''t know how to respond to his commander''s order.


    "Pilot, did you hear your commander''s order?"


    "Yes, sir."


    "Then carry out my order, now."


    "Sir, I''m flying over one of the health centers now¡­ a nurse has left the unit. She''s waving a white sheet¡­ they''re just civilians, sir¡­"


    "Don''t be naive, pilot. Enemies often use their allies and hostages as human shields. The Central Command traffickers will use these places for refuge and ambushes. You are as experienced a military man as I am. I recognized your expertise in military campaign flying early on. Don''t let me down right now. Blow up those fucking hospitals now, that''s an order, pilot! Either you do it, or I''m going to bomb you in mid-air. Make your choice. Choose well¡­"


    The helicopter flew over the health center. Other professionals got out. They waved their hands. Even a child in a wheelchair with a bandaged leg was brought out to show which people were inside.


    "Attack the health unit, operator."


    "Positive, sir."


    Cabummmm. The warheads hit the ECU. Pieces of building flew everywhere. The roof collapsed, crushing the building''s supporting pillars. The people who had agitated for the one-sided ceasefire died engulfed in the burning flames of the weapons.


    A dark red stain colored the room like a tasteless painting. Those who weren''t killed by the bombardment met their end buried. Those who had survived the attack dragged themselves mutilated through the streets. One man held on to his torn arm and walked from one side to the other in bewilderment.


    "Well done! Pilot. I heard those sons of bitches screaming from inside the biped tank. If you keep this up, I''ll promote you up the ranks. You even deserve a medal, hohohoho. Now, to close the lid on the coffin, kill the survivors."


    The militiaman positioned the aircraft so that the weapons operator could finish the carnage. With the machine guns, the rest were killed. What had once been a mass of people moaning and wandering around became a huge pile of bodies torn apart by bullets. The aircraft was parked in the air.


    Inside the helicopter, only the sound of instruments and rotors could be heard. The machine gun was sucking its last projectile from the bullet belt. It continued to spin its barrels for a few seconds, then stopped static. The pilot wondered how much hunger that thing still had to kill.


    "That''s right, pilot. Bravo, very brave what you did. I couldn''t have done better."


    "¡­ Affirmative, sir."

 Song 33: War is war - Part 3

    Juta, the Head of the Fourth Estate''s Drug Trafficking Division, put on his best suit to attend the extraordinary meeting of the militia''s Cupola. The meeting, organized by the faction''s treasurer, came in handy. He would kill four birds with one stone. She had arranged everything with the hitman.


    The militiaman would introduce him as his new bodyguard. Pretending to go to the bathroom, the man would silence his companions forever. After the massacre, he would call Ata. It would weaken his nerves. Everything for Juta had been calculated to the extreme. Sometimes he was called passive, when he made up his mind, he was labeled impulsive.


    None of these accusations deterred him from his goals. He considered Ata a stone in his shoe. Someone who should be dead. The guy had sparked a war with the Central Command because of Chekandino, a wild animal wearing human skin.


    Juta got into the aeromobile, he hated ground traffic. It was strange to see a hired killer as his chauffeur. He parked at the heliport where the Cupola was based. He had been late on purpose. He took the elevator down with the fake bodyguard and went to the meeting room in the penthouse.


    "I thought fear wouldn''t let you come, Juta."


    "I''m in the mood, but he''s not here."


    She''s such a bitch¡­


    "Every time I talk to you, Lovelie, it makes me want to shit."


    "Who''s the little shadow there?"


    "He''s my new bodyguard. Don''t worry, he won''t bite. Unless you ask him to."


    The militiaman left the room and headed for the penthouse bathroom. He crossed the corridor. Before he reached the bathroom, he heard terrible gunfire. He ran and locked himself in. The exchange of fire didn''t take long. He opened the door with a smile from ear to ear. He went to the sink, turned on the water. He splashed some on his face. He ruffled his jacket.


    He made his most desperate face. He called Ata. He left the information hanging. He didn''t detail anything. He just said that his companions had been ambushed. In that climate of war and uncertainty, no one would realize that it had been a betrayal. Even if they did, it would be too late and he would already be the boss of the Burned Circuit Complex.


    He returned to the room with his heart pounding in his chest. He opened the door to the meeting room. Lovelie and the other three were dead. They had drawn their weapons, unloaded their magazines, none of them had hit their target. However, the militiamen didn''t have a single bullet mark on their bodies.


    "It can''t be, they''re just passed out!"


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    Juta went over to the bodies. He took a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket. He took a closer look at the bodies. They were no longer breathing, nor did they have a pulse. Their eyes were as glassy as those of a fish in the supermarket gondola. There was a small circular mark on the chest of each of them. A purple bruise, but no apparent puncture or laceration.


    He looked around the table. He noticed four round silver objects. He squatted down on the floor. He picked up one of the shiny objects. He turned it over in his hand.


    "A coin¡­ he didn''t fire a single shot at the targets so as not to arouse suspicion, courteous of him. But how the hell did he kill these people for four pieces of silver?"


    ?


    Teams from Ilu Nla''s NeTV channels and international agencies have set up at the foot of Chrome Hill. Since the beginning of the clashes at dawn, no military force from the metropolis has been sent to break up the war between the criminal factions. The teams, unable to climb the hill, sent in drones. The drones were shot down in mid-air.


    The only way to follow the conflict from the inside was to watch each group''s broadcasts. It was a form of propaganda for their power. The scenes of the militia helicopter bombing civilian and unarmed targets stirred up public opinion. Several posts circulated throughout the metaverse and cyberspace.


    The international community was hungry for information. Multilateral bodies issued notes of repudiation of what was happening and demanded firm action from Ilu Nla''s interim presidency. Not that people cared about the victims, they cared about business.


    The industrial titans and dinosaurs of the financial market were in an uproar. Ilu Nla was the current mecca of the cyber industry. The new workshop of the world that had overtaken China as a geo-economic force and Russia as a military power. The stock market had been in a loop since the morning.


    The reporting team from Ilu Nla''s state-owned NeTV prepared for a live entrance. The reporter, of medium height, dark skinned and wearing a dark brown suit with shoulder pads, positioned himself. He smoothed his frizzy hair with his hand. He took one last look at the note on his slim smartphone and looked at the camera-drone in front of him.


    The team director, a short, sullen-looking woman, counted on her fingertips. The camera light flashed, it was on.


    "Good morning to all our followers from Ilu Nla''s state-owned NeTV. This is Kampibe from the Morning News, and I''m three hundred meters from the entrance to Chrome Hill. Since sunrise the Central Command of Chrome Hill and the Fourth Estate of the Burned Circuit Complex slums have been clashing. We contacted the Ministry of Justice and the military about what the intervention would be at this time. The government bodies responded with a note repudiating the sad events of this morning and are in a crisis cabinet to discuss the issue. They defined the clashes as an affront to public order in Ilu Nla and unprecedented terrorist acts in the country''s history. The death toll is incalculable at the moment. To detail for our followers on our social networks in the metaverse, or on our official channels in cyberspace, it all boils down to a gang war for control of territory. The boss of Chrome Hill, Kinyua, has challenged the power of a militiaman called Ata, a major arms dealer who receives support from foreign powers to destabilize Ilu Nla. We''ll be back with more information throughout the day. Keep following us, leave a like, share and become a follower of our channels. Now it''s up to you in the studio."


    Reporter Kampibe went to the table that the team had set up. He ate a sandwich; he had left home in a hurry without eating breakfast. He nibbled on it. He felt enormous pleasure. He looked around. He saw the other international correspondents hard at work. They were really dedicated to sending the message to the rest of the world.


    He turned his eyes to the huge walls that separated the metropolis from its marginalized counterpart. Even before the coup d''¨¦tat, when there was a king and a Circle of Sages made up of mediums, there had never been a bridge. He stopped chewing his sandwich, he felt like he was going to choke. After the bad feeling passed, he finished eating.


    He sat down on a bench. He sipped a coffee to help the sandwich go down. The team director distributes notes sent by the interim president. Kampibe read it with disbelief. He would only say what the government wanted to say. The reporter felt like shouting live about the government''s passivity, its reluctance.


    If he did that, he would be fired, denied a job at any other news agency, and suffer lifelong political persecution. His wife would divorce him and demand alimony that he would never be able to pay. His children would suffer parental alienation and hate him for no reason. The professional discarded the paper body. It was as disposable as that glass. He returned to his position, rehearsed a few entrances, and was told: on live.

 Song 34: War is war - Part 4

    An old man and a teenager were entrenched in a drained manhole, a place in the sewage system where rainwater was flowing. Despite the old man''s recommendations, the young man decided to keep the rifle. Neither of them knew how to handle guns. The old man was a pensioner who still worked in a greengrocer''s shop, and the boy had dropped out of school.


    The older man was frightened by the events. The slum was like a candle. Its top was burning in fiery flames. Sounds of gunfire and explosions echoed. His comrade-in-arms saw everything differently. He was excited. He held the gun with great care. He wanted to show courage, to be accepted by Central Command.


    He looked through the rifle''s scope. He rehearsed a few shots and whistled softly for each shot fired. The old man disapproved. He shook his head and hid with every explosion he heard. Two different generations savored the spirit of their times in different ways. One was nostalgic for the times without criminal factions, the other for the ecstasy of the present.


    "Kid, hide that head of yours. Otherwise you''re going to get shot right in the middle of that ship''s forehead."


    "No problem, old man! We from the Central Command are going to fuck these guys up. These dirty militiamen are going to die at the point of a bullet, like this, oh, ratatatatatata."


    "What you need is a few grammar lessons. Why did you leave school?"


    "School? It''s useless these days. I see people dying to study and going nowhere. In the slum, you have to make your own way, get rich or die trying."


    "If I were your father, I''d give you a good slap. Don''t you have dreams? Don''t you want to be nothing when you grow up?"


    "Not at all, old man! I''m going to take the hill one day. All this will still be mine. Look at Kinyua, he had nothing¡­"


    "Yeah, now he''s got a target on his back. Get down!"


    A group of militiamen came around the corner. There was half a dozen of them. The old man crouched down, he didn''t want to face bandits because of other bandits. His comrade didn''t think twice. He took aim, fired, missed, gave away his position, and fractured his shoulder due to the recoil of the rifle.


    With his shoulder dislocated, he bent over in pain. The old man tried to help the teenager. He tried to drag him back into the wolf''s mouth. A shot went through his temple and out the back of his head. The old man''s body fell on top of the boy. He tried to get out from under the corpse, but he didn''t have the strength.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The militiamen came to the pair''s hiding place. The boy cried loudly. He begged for his life and called out for his mother. The criminals just smiled. They pointed their guns at him. Just as his fingers were about to scratch the triggers, a bamboo tube fell on the foot of one of them. It began to spin and emit a thick, gray smoke.


    Something fell from the sky onto the militiamen, heavy and agile. There was a struggle, followed by shots. When the smoke cleared, Spin Bomb and Akachi appeared. The medium entered the wolf''s mouth and helped the young man out. The swordswoman collected the militiamen''s weapons.


    The pair had followed Yasini''s order: to collect the weapons of downed enemies. The Central Command''s polymer guns had started to overheat and were bending the barrel. One man had been wounded in the face; the shot had backfired.


    "All clear here."


    "Come on, we need to go. I''ll take you to the second line of defense. Get that shoulder bandaged, and carry a pistol in your waistband for protection. No matter what happens, don''t look back and don''t stop."


    "Wow, Akachi, you look just like Chuck Norris."


    "Chuck who?"


    "Oh, forget it, let''s go!"


    The trio headed towards the second line of defense. The wall of flames didn''t stop the enemy advance for long. The ambushes had had no effect. The helicopters were forcing the Central Command forces back. The anti-aircraft guns had been placed in the fourth line.


    Over the course of the morning, Spin Bomb had noticed a difference in Akachi. He no longer seemed reticent. His eyes conveyed motivation to the others. He avoided killing his enemies, just leaving them unconscious. Despite this, he was committed to saving people. He had inflicted many casualties on the Fourth Estate.


    They reached the second line of defense. The order was to hold out until the bipedal tanks arrived. Fake news was circulating here and there. Yasini sought to maintain order at all costs, in a firm manner. More out of fear than respect, no one had dared to desert.


    A frightened-looking man came up to Spin Bomb and Akachi, he had a communiqu¨¦ from Yasini. Holoprojected the call-in low resolution.


    "Akachi and Spin Bomb, retreat immediately to the third line of defense. They''ve hacked into the Fourth Estate''s communication frequency. Ata has set a prize for whoever captures Spin Bomb and you, Akachi. I''ll be waiting for you."


    "Why me? Fuck him!"


    "You blew up his little brother, Spin Bomb. Akachi helped. He wants to make a rug out of your hide. Get out of there, now. I won''t be able to protect you both if you''re on the other end of the line. The ambushes didn''t work."


    "Right, Master Yasini. We''re on our way. Listen, fall back, that''s an order."


    Everyone obeyed Akachi. They fled in disarray. Unlike the militiamen, who were ex-military, there was no order, hierarchy or honor among them. They were just a bunch of civilians bearing arms, and they believed that this was the pinnacle of power on earth. It wasn''t. He who wounds with a bullet will be wounded with a bullet.


    Even without knowing it, they respected him. Some even considered killing Kinyua and Yasini and making Akachi a new leader. They would manipulate him and then kill him and take his place, just as the scorpion had killed the frog after crossing the lake. Such was the nature of venomous beings.


    Despite the turbulence of the conflict, only one thing united the forces of Central Command: the fear of dying. No one wanted to board Charon''s prow and go down the river of the dead. Death, like old age and illness, were the most democratic things those mere mortals possessed. Everything else was inexact, unpredictable until the twinkling of an eye.

 Song 35: War is war - Part 5

    It was dusk on Chrome Hill. Casualties between the two sides grew alarmingly after midday. A cloud of thick smoke spread across the region. Everything was covered in gray pitch. Gunfire and explosions added to the cries of despair. The forces on both sides were tired.


    The Central Command had held out until its last line of defense. They had defended the territory up to that point, but not without inflicting many casualties on the enemy. Only one thing sustained the militiamen: Ata''s command. If it hadn''t been for that, they would have withdrawn their troops and reworked their plan of attack.


    Behind the barricades, the drug traffickers and those summoned by force were fighting the last stand. If they retreated another centimeter, they would hand Chrome Hill over to the enemy. The Fourth Estate would show no mercy. They would hunt down and kill everyone from the Central Command, and in front of their families, which would be even more horrible.


    Under Yasini''s command, the Chromos had shot down a helicopter and destroyed two bipedal tankers. Together with Akachi, he realized something about these latest weapons. Anyone who had mastered mediumship would have known which force moved the manned robots.


    Ata was also thinking strategically. He left the jetpack unit to the last moment. They attacked in a V formation, flying low over the enemy. They threw grenades at them to break the line of defense. While they tried to hit them with explosives, the Central Command soldiers were at the mercy of the jetpack unit''s machine guns.


    They hit their targets with precision. Their agile mobility prevented them from being shot. Yasini and Akachi took the lead. They had understood that it was a risk to allow the air-surface unit to succeed in its assault. They would use their combined skills to diminish the power of the opponent''s attack.


    "I''ll use an attraction field, Akachi. Knock out as many enemies as you can."


    "Fenyang, are you ready?"


    "I was born ready, buddy."


    "Firm up spirit!"


    Akachi performed Steadiness, incorporating Fenyang for the first time in that conflict. The pair began to counterattack in a combined fashion. Yasini used her attraction field against the militiamen in jetpacks, and concentrated this energy to paralyze them for a few seconds. Any piece of metal in the militiamen''s armor was used to make the magnetic property work. The larger the metal portion, the greater the attraction.


    As Propagation was an electrical property that was a Lower Function of his mediumistic profile, it attracted few enemies. This was compensated for by Akachi''s combination of Magnetic and Electrical properties.


    When he concentrated Ax¨¦ in his legs, he leapt into the air. He redirected everything into his arms. He exerted a repulsive force combined with his Tertiary Propagation Function. Opponents were thrown into each other. It was too fast an attack to defend against and deflect. Several militiamen were knocked down in an instant with the stratagem. On the ground, they were machine-gunned and bombed by the mediums'' allies.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The forces of the Central Command provided cover for the pair of mediums, who were making a mockery of their opponents. The jetpack unit dropped like flies on the battlefield. Chrome Hill''s last line of defense was well concentrated. The morale of the Central Command was high at that moment. They had repulsed the attack so far.


    Confusedly, the air-surface unit retreated in an uncoordinated stampede. A militiaman, with his faulty jetpack, tried to run. Chrome''s men laughed at the man''s awkward escape. Before he could get through the curtain of soot, a blade with a superheated wire pierced him through the chest.


    A high-pitched sound of electronic injection echoed through the air. The silhouette of the metallic colossus became visible. It threw the militiaman''s body into a wall. The body exploded on impact, spewing blood and viscera everywhere. He scraped the blade on the floor and walked towards the pair of mediums to intimidate them. It only had an effect on the drug dealers in the rear.


    "I gave these idiots a simple order: kill all the enemies. They don''t make good soldiers anymore these days. There is no order, no hierarchy possible to redeem these cowards."


    Ata''s voice came out wildly through the biped tank''s loudspeaker. The traffickers backed off.


    "No problem, there are things only a real man can do."


    The commander fired the SIMBAD-RC''s two missiles from his right shoulder. The two warheads flew rapidly towards the mediums. Akachi stood in front of Yasini, with both hands flat, he repelled the missiles in Ata''s direction. He activated the thrusters on the back of his robot and managed to dodge.


    He ejected his flanberge bayonet, jumped a few meters above the ground and landed a vertical downward blow on Akachi. Yasini pushed the young man away and parried the blow with his horizontally placed javelin. The edge of the super-heated blade tore through the javelin like a blowtorch. Ata redirected more force into his right arm. The medium bent his knees.


    You sit on the Throne of Force, Yasini. Don''t embarrass me.


    Shut up, Zuber! You only complain and don''t help at all.


    You may be weak, but you''re intelligent, Yasini. You know very well how to detonate this thing. Its strength is...


    Ax¨¦! I know. I realized it when we destroyed the previous tank. How can a machine use Ax¨¦ at that intensity, and without a medium inside?


    I don''t know. Do something fast, kid. I can feel your bones rattling.


    "Zuber of the iron skin, who defied an entire army with a javelin. Grant me your strength, the unbreakable will that sustains your victory. Strengthen your spirit. Iron Skin."


    With his Of¨®, Yasini''s skin was covered in a rusty layer. The ground cracked under the weight of the two combatants. Ata aimed the rocket launcher on his left arm at Yasini''s face. He would fire at point-blank range.


    "Even with that armor of yours, one shot from that distance will kill you, you crazy bastard!"


    "I don''t care, Yasini. Join your ancestors."


    Plimmm. A silver coin spun in the air at the height of the biped tank pilot''s cock-pit.


    What the fuck?


    "ULTRAKILL."


    The silver coin was shot on its obverse. It was projected at high speed. It hit the cock-pit and went through the armored glass of the tank. It went through Ata''s abdomen and out through the robot''s shoulder.

 Song 36: War is war - Part 6

    At that moment, the sun had already left its place in the sky and given way to the moon. The first stars appeared, but they were overshadowed by the flames burning on the hill. A round, silver object reflected the flames on its reverse side.


    The silver coin fell clinking to the ground. Everyone was perplexed. No one knew where the shot had come from. Until they saw the man in the navy-blue suit and tie. He had a nickel-plated double-barreled vertical pistol pointed at the right flank of the bipedal tank.


    Spin Bomb made his way through his allies. He couldn''t believe what he was seeing.


    "Mr. Nobody?"


    "Sorry I''m late for the party."


    "I knew you weren''t just a reporter¡­"


    "Gonzo journalism demands a lot of me, Miss Spin Bomb, hohohoho."


    The manned robot fell to the ground with one knee and seemed to deactivate its functions for an instant. Yasini had her javelin cut in half. He took advantage of Ata''s moment of distraction and dodged. The metallic colossus was paralyzed. Inside, Ata felt so much pain that he was in a stupor.


    The tank system, noticing that the pilot of the unit was unconscious, activated the resuscitation procedures. It injected a syringe into the militiaman''s neck and shot him with adrenaline. The man woke up, his eyes bulging and his veins throbbing under his skin. A trickle of drool ran down the left corner of his mouth. His right eye began to flutter, the dilated pupil unable to focus on any particular object.


    After the initial shock, Ata regained consciousness. He felt vigor returning to his body. He was boiling. A second syringe was injected into his shoulder. Painkillers and antibiotics began to work on coagulating the wound, reconnecting the blood vessels and reducing the synapses of physical pain. Now he was back in combat.


    The biped tank reactivated its functions by emitting damage assessment and system restoration sounds. It emitted a few electrical squeaks. It stood up again as if it were a newborn baby learning to take its first steps. He pointed his flintlock bayonet in the direction of Mr. Nobody.


    "Ata''s in the game."


    Akachi stepped forward and slammed the two sticks together. The sound echoed in the room. It attracted the militiaman''s attention.


    "Good, I''ve been playing alone until now."


    Yasini put a hand on his pupil''s shoulder and joined him.


    "Don''t go into this round alone, Akachi. You''re still in training."


    Spin Bomb walked over and joined the trio. He pointed a finger in Ata''s direction and shouted:


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "Let''s smash that sardine can with you in it, you asshole!"


    Mr. Nobody pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket. He asked Spin Bomb to light it with his blowtorch. The scent of aromatic herbs filled the atmosphere. Akachi coughed and teared up. The fake journalist inhaled and exhaled the greenish smoke. His pupils dilated, as did his nostrils.


    "I get it, you want like a King of Fighters 99? Okay, I''ll be the striker of the group."


    Yasini looked at Akachi, and then at Spin Bomb, describing to them that they should do:


    "Spin Bomb, create smoke screens for us. Akachi, repel the attacks coming from the tank. I''ll engage in hand-to-hand combat. I''ll throw my blade towards the energy core of that machine. Mr. Nobody, can you do that trick again?"


    "Sure, just give me the signal."


    The sword maker activated her torch and pulled three swords from her bag. She flashed a smile that startled Adisa''s son.


    "Should we do the Fourth of July or fireworks show on R¨¦veillon?"


    "More action and less effect, Spin Bomb."


    "Then it''ll be the Fourth of July, Yasini. Go, Team Chrome!"


    The girl ran off to the left. Akachi followed flanking Ata''s right. Yasini rushed forward in a straight line. Mr. Nobody disappeared in the blink of an eye.


    "You four can come, in fact, you and the Salvation Army can come. Fuck off! I''m going to kill everyone."


    Ata thought it would be easier to hit Spin Bomb with the rocket launcher on his left arm. The laser cannon would be aimed at the medium in front of him. He would stop Akachi with the flamberge bayonet. The Spin Bomb smoke bombs exploded at his feet. A curtain of whitish smoke covered him.


    It was a way of creating a distraction and blurring his vision so that Akachi could catch him off guard. However, the manned robot had thermographic vision. Ata used the flamberge bayonet to defend himself against the medium''s sequences of blows. They exchanged attacks, but neither managed to injure his opponent.


    The medium acted to divert his opponent''s attention. When he realized this, the militiaman activated the overheated blade, Akachi dodged the blow. The blade sank into the ground.


    The opponent''s defense stopped working. Spin Bomb detonated explosives of concentrated gunpowder around him. The high sparks of flames distorted the images through the bipedal tank masters, who couldn''t recognize their enemies. Thermographic vision was compromised.


    Ata fired wildly. His enemies sought refuge away from him. He destroyed cars and buildings around him, but didn''t hit Spin Bomb or Akachi. The tank emitted a failure signal from the laser cannon. There was an obstruction in the barrel. The militiaman looked up. The handle of the javelin had been jammed inside.


    "Shit!"


    There was an explosion that severed the biped tanker''s left arm at shoulder height. The electrical wiring was exposed and sparked. Ax¨¦ particles were emitted. The manned robot system fell off balance. It was difficult to maintain control without weight distribution.


    Yasini hadn''t finished off his enemy yet. He had slid under the tank''s legs and launched the tip of the javelin into the back, under the tank-biped''s shoulder, where his Ax¨¦-Core was.


    "It''s up to you now, Mr. Nobody."


    Plinz, the javelin was hit by a projectile. The blade was projected faster. It hit Ata with the force of a missile. It stuck there. It damaged the power system. The manned robot was electrocuted throughout its metal armor. It was disabled a second time. It fell to its knees.


    The quartet stood around the biped tank. They believed that with that attack, Ata had been shot down. A bluish smoke began to rise from his joints. It spiraled through the air and reached the sky. A restarting sound was emitted by the metallic colossus. An extra Ax¨¦-Core had been activated by the state of emergency.


    "Hey, you guys from Chrome! I''m not going to die alone in this shithole you call a community. Initiate unit self-destruct protocol. Overheat Ax¨¦-Core and concentrate its energy in the battery compartment. Ignore pilot condition. Series: 9B8.3C7.1G8.7K8.6P7¡­"


    Boom. The biped tanker was hit by a bazooka shot. Everyone was stunned by the attacker. Mr. Nobody smiled. Stepping out of the shadows with the bazooka on his shoulder was the most unlikely person of all.


    "Bro, I''m going to get you away from that evil robot!"

 Song 37: War is war - Part 7

    The most unpredictable of events had happened that night. The militiaman''s manned robot was attacked by Chekandino. With an array of weapons, Ata''s twin brother fired several shots at the biped tank. He uttered disconnected words and fired shots all around the metal monster.


    Everyone tried to understand the reason for the attack. The militiaman didn''t react, he seemed bewildered by his brother''s mad form.


    Spin Bomb and Akachi watched without understanding. They had seen Chekandino''s instability up close. Considering Ata''s overprotection of his brother, no one had imagined that one would turn against the other.


    "But¡­ what''s going on here?"


    "I think Chekandino is trying to take control of the Fourth Estate, Spin Bomb."


    As the situation unfolded, military helicopters flew over the area. A beam of light was emitted over the battlefield. A voice ordered the civilians:


    "This is the Ilu Nla Special Police Operations Battalion. Drop your weapons, I repeat, drop your weapons. If you don''t obey, you will be considered hostile forces and we will use force."


    Spin Bomb put his hand to his face to protect his eyes from the aircraft''s reflector. He held up his middle finger with his free hand and offered it to the police:


    "Is it time for you to arrive?"


    Mr. Nobody came up behind the pair, knocked out the sword maker and Adisa''s son with the butt of his gun.


    "Sorry, but that''s our cue! You guys from Chrome, you''d better not stay here to see the grand finale"


    The gunman picked them both up off the ground, and escorted by Yasini, they left. The members of the Central Command stumbled out of their positions and fled. The civilians forcibly recruited by Kinyua dropped their weapons on the ground. Military police descended from helicopter cables and began to make arrests.


    Some tried to fight back, but were killed by the government forces. The police exchanged fire with the militiamen and drug traffickers. Both factions were enemies of the government. They had been weakened during the fighting. With the media absent, they carried out several summary executions, including civilians who had already surrendered.


    All this was happening around the twin brothers. When Chekandino''s ammunition ran out, he jumped onto the knees of the bipedal tank and began to jab the cockpit visor with his gun. With his eyes bulging, Ata watched the whole thing. She wondered what had happened to her little brother.


    Why are you doing this to me, my brother?


    "Ata, I''m going to get you out of there, bro. I''m going to get you out of there¡­ I''m going to save you from that evil robot."


    The militiaman felt a sharp, throbbing pain in his left temple. As if an ember had been lit. He reached out with the robot''s arm and grabbed Chekandino''s throat. The posergang let out a gurgling cry. Ata squeezed him even tighter, Chekandino''s screams echoing as if his pain had brought him out of his hypnagogic state.


    "I kept our father''s promise, little brother. I protected you from everyone, from God and the world. You never thanked me! You always fucked up wherever we went. You dropped out of the fucking Military Academy to bum around while I was there working hard to bring money home. You''ve always been weak, a weight I''ve been forced to carry all this time to fulfill my father''s last wish: to protect you! I''m going to kill you, my brother. I HATE YOU!"


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    The militiaman''s bones began to break. His internal organs imploded. His eyes popped out of their sockets. All of Chekandino''s orifices hemorrhaged. One final squeeze and the man became a mass of ground meat, fluids and cybertechs. Then the biped tank stopped.


    After the police raid, the soldiers went to the manned robot. There was a risk of explosion, as it was emitting Ax¨¦ particles. Its spare core had fallen to the ground and was exposed. Carefully, the containment team approached, collected the Ax¨¦-Core and opened the tank''s cock-pit. They found the militiaman inside. Ata was leaning over the controls.


    They lifted the body. His eyes were closed. Two tears of clotted blood marked his face. One of his hands held a pistol. They checked the magazine; a bullet had been fired. The bullet had been fired into his right ear and had passed through his head, leaving a hollow from one side to the other.


    They removed the body from inside, they didn''t want to create war martyrs for the Fourth Estate. The militiaman''s body was placed on a stretcher with his arms crossed. He was taken to where Chekandino''s remains had been deposited. They lay next to each other. The chief forensic expert approached with a disposable Styrofoam cup, sipping bitter coffee.


    He approached a table that had been set up for the forensics reports. He looked at the bodies, then back at the documents projected in virtual reality on the table. He discovered that they were brothers. He looked at the bodies once more. To his surprise, the bodies had intertwined their hands like children do when crossing traffic lights.


    ?


    "Are you the man sent by the Fourth Estate''s drug kingpin?"


    "I''m not from the Fourth Estate, nor am I a henchman of Juta. I only deal in death."


    The meeting took place the day before the militia attacked Chrome Hill. The room was poorly lit, with LED bulbs sparking. A ceiling fan rotated slowly and creaked sharply. It cast the shadows of its blades on the gloomy room. Kinyua, facing the man over one meter tall, felt intimidated. Not even Yasini''s presence near the door made him feel safe.


    The hitman was there to support Central Command. Juta had made a deal with Kinyua, and to show the good faith between them, he had become an informer. He had scraped together his savings and hired the best of them. He wanted the Burned Circuit Complex all to himself.


    The best way he could find to get it was to make a deal with the boss of Chrome. He wanted guarantees, so hiring an Il¨º Apanyan man came in handy. The undertakers were the most lethal hitmen in the world. Their headquarters were unknown. They had relationships with various criminal organizations and states.


    Nobody wanted them as an enemy, and they had a good reputation in the underworld. Kinyua felt a chill in his stomach every time he realized that a guy like that would be acting in his patch without being able to say anything against it. The criminal ran his hands over his forehead, wiping away the sweat that was pouring down.


    "If you kill Ata, that''s fine with me."


    "Mr. Kinyua, that''s risky. He''s an Il¨º Apanyan man!"


    "Better to keep him on our side, Yasini. It''s healthier."


    "All right, but I want him to do something for me, a favor."


    Kinyua glared at the medium. This was a boldness that he had never allowed to occur at other times. It was laughable for a medium to ask a murderer for help.


    What does this idiot think he''s doing? Altruistic hitmen, that''s all we need, hahahaha. I hope your recklessness doesn''t get me killed, Yasini.


    "Funeral directors have never minded leaving their signature at crime scenes. It''s their best form of publicity. You''re using our conflict to cover up your deaths. You must be doing this to serve someone''s interests. I don''t know who, but someone important. Please take Akachi and Spin Bomb away from this place. Take them to the falls, find my master Nyatui. He''s part of the Masters of Suspicion. Leave them there, then follow their destiny, whatever it may be."


    "Why would you do that, medium?"


    "You didn''t come to Ilu Nla for tourism, you came for business. Something tells me that your business will not end with the death of the Cupola of the Fourth Estate."


    "You''re very perceptive. I always consider people like that a risk to my missions."


    The undertaker slowly slipped his hand into his jacket pocket. This created an immense atmosphere of tension. He pulled out an herbal cigarette and lit it. Yasini stopped squeezing the javelin. Kinyua let out an involuntary sigh. He leaned back in his chair and said:


    "I don''t care about Akachi, he''ll be too much trouble. Spin Bomb stays, she''s very useful here."


    "No, the Spin Bomb goes with Akachi. Otherwise, I''m going."


    "Are you going to betray me at a time like this, Yasini?"


    The assassin let out a long puff into the air. The ceiling fan dispersed the greenish-gray smoke far away. He turned his gaze to Yasini and asked:


    "Is this Akachi guy important in this plot?"


    "Oh yes! And how! The Spin Bomb comes as a gift."


    "Don''t do that, Yasini!"


    "All right, medium. I''ll take two for the price of one. They won''t come with me for good, I''ll have to take them unconscious. I''ll need a vehicle and coordinates."

 Song 38: Linkin Spark

    The Phalanx''s exclusive use intranet was accessed by Ilu Nla''s generals. Users became fluorescent tesserae. Entering that virtual microsphere was like coming across the red screen of a Playstation 2. A tunnel of green binary codes appeared, spinning at high speed like a crazed particle accelerator.


    The tesserae plunged into the tunnel and arrived at a reality like a lithograph by Dutch artist Maurits Cornelis Escher. A colorful, vivid reproduction of the Waterfall. An aqueduct and a mill connected to a waterfall that subverted every notion of modern physics. Its waters flowed upwards.


    It contained within it a walled citadel with rounded roofs in the style of Amalfi. The flora was made up of giant mosses that grew wild around the building. Stone-stepped hills lined with shrubs remained unbalanced. Above the octahedrons of the Waterfall towers, the tesserae stopped.


    The cyan-colored one with silver details communicated with the other two, an obsidian tesserae with bronze details and an emerald one with gold details:


    Cyanite tesserae: U2FsdGVkX19M0oMEdoRnTCwKz2vPaCObivRnOfa1lNjF7d0xaqYdVHwz61x8l5o1


    9Gf7Rnkkvn4XV85QYWgR0VbC9YNmEteRX58q55UVMccpPXCU7bbDTnseiBTTEDXG


    Tfgi1XHWF5qWcTtj2w3+yF4iL1tWgfvWG+n0UZtn4uhGx+Nr+OfaeT0hRtZk5wBv


    eOV61uiGVa6fN0hIJwfoGi7rkRuwpwjIsqGH879+u8TPF4P+dciJL+bQGlQZSa+B


    W+BcnYhszc6N4T/49uhbHUwaE5TFtOdH+2Z4GZoMyLv9PD0CSpGKXrcE30Dgb9Bt


    NIyjxs1BGaTO7V75dOtmZI2uMndiB5pG3d1Am2AO3brWcF7v3rTK/f9t75zTlwmf


    QQtGMQ5f6dFdhEyuM2QxcSiMwvjqrmJ2Nfv6lglIdXF4bh8S4D2dFi/moMdwd1FI


    7fpe7fZeUErOS9ee1unKY5Bw+dnh1GrijyWcBCU3IJJG1PzOJANWzx0dgNergX4O


    O7kNaEKEKRsp55SPSWOoZKFTxDJCUCnh


    Obsidian tesserae: U2FsdGVkX19d8+rPPVCqLMHO1x6gUzBFCfYrpsVXHII6Qg2INssSuzdSwur/iayM


    losz/qHCUd1Rm4CfyawvcDxP9VQMwYCPNFrj+KbGbD/qnMg5VXNRu7ig0lwsypLX


    JEylgnkT8UFOTZbID5MDWOO1NVjuMZdaR0qszwb4ctfPyTKokPWR0ho0tuZOhNUm


    MG8mMzC1VKTtVi9lVkokESE8qcRb4XlwRL+6qSJ0rY+YL9EcNF8hsgaObkY5zeVt


    AYCAG4m80yxCSETaiQiwVvIkW4flDb2dD4gI3dP1RxRHfSI4xSFZ7EflXVY2kF3k


    wPVQjhY3XMfhm7rxZWd5rAEO5/jBih3xlUonx0Ee/vTV9fnBCqvXe4IpYr/cILC1


    h9AlSfPFyAsUbZ8YNwQKwZyd3YfN347nroaUt1irlJLhSH1s8X3xP6Mc2GKn+Fik


    AjYs1YZ/CnG/XRRpduhd19RMKWGZdo5PeuSNhR6hoLCALeGmaCTgIGzZooDszml7


    s3lCE9km7NXkTij8qpjJP8zFgdy2sOkIFurODvbn2Z1m5sU5WdZuxdnUD2rUbWLo


    5CqmgPB/Y2b5Hufq4yHGNVYSxnMVWiTO7u+0024427cvGobCKp2zdCau0zZF7Xul


    he6vQ6IOODiGuDdRv0+ldQ==


    Emeraldine tesserae: U2FsdGVkX1/4p2swapSRXtCv/d/gJa8SZWPbC/rPwYzwGnZb7FtGhFzSBEEZR7QQ


    yYkiXc1rWzfq4IUAkklWGA+xUO2TSUKJf4G96cUDy9J6hHtC7lBKf807IBXR1Pmx


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    After the cyanite tesserae evanesced into thin air, the other two continued to float around each other. Then they followed suit.


    The members of the Phalanx had made up the Royal Guard. They had risen to these positions through the cybernetization of the Ilu Nla Armed Forces. They competed for the preference of the royal house and won. The Circle of Sages, once considered the Voice of the King, was now nothing more than a secondary institution.


    The government started investing in cybernetic troops. Transhuman soldiers with capabilities far above normal, capable of operating in extreme conditions. Men and women bio-sculpted with DNA editing. A new type of soldier never seen before, thanks to technology from Ojwang. Weapons accepted and technology desired.


    The Phalanx had the most advanced cybersoldiers of their generation. They were devoted to the strange cause of Ojwang, who had emerged as a scientist who was too influential in the affairs of state. Now he was no mere minister, but the head of state and the armed forces, with the institutions dissolved and his iron hand moving the puppets in Ilu Nla.


    On the chessboard, his generals were the equivalent of a queen. They could move wherever they wanted, but they had to obey and protect the king. Nothing new on the front, that''s what wars are made of.

 Song 39: Mission complete!

    The convertible airplane had discharged its power reserve. It had stopped working in the middle of nowhere. The trio was a long way from their destination: the waterfalls. Sunlight was already peeking over the horizon. Ilu Nla''s wall cast its shadow across the three-kilometer stretch of arid land that separated the metropolis from the slums.


    The man in the dark matte suit loosened his tie, it was going to be a long, hot day. He removed his glasses and hooked one of the stems into his pocket. He smoothed his bald head with his fingertips. He prepared a cigarette. He needed to clear his head and relax. He looked towards the northeast. A cool breeze hinted at less dry weather, a river perhaps.


    He turned back. There were only the slums burning like hell. Ochre-colored smoke rose into the air. It smelled of death. He preferred his own, with aromatic herbs that removed impurities from the body and mind when he breathed it out. He stayed there until he had finished his cigarette. He threw the butt on the floor and stepped on the rest to finish the smoke.


    He picked up a transparent slim smartphone. He activated the touch screen and scanned it biometrically. He entered a number that would seem random to anyone curious and dialed. He placed the smartphone on the hood of the vehicle and a dim, bluish beam of light emitted from the device. The interlocutor was projected in augmented reality, but only the lenses of the man in the suit could see.


    A man dressed in a suit with a color and cut close to that of the smartphone''s owner appeared in high resolution. He was tall and slender. His face was clean-shaven, long and with expression marks around his light brown eyes. His hair was curly and flowed down to his shoulders with numerous gray strands. His bearing emanated elegance and experience.


    "My Babu, I revere you. I have fulfilled my mission, silenced all my targets and erased my presence at the crime scenes. May God smooth your paths and remove your difficulties."


    The man said, resting one knee on the ground and drawing a half-moon around his chest. He stood up with the other man''s permission.


    "As Babu of Il¨º Apanyan, I congratulate you on your mastery of your mission. May the heavens rejoice in receiving the souls of your targets, God willing. May we be instruments of destiny''s will. Tell your Babu what happened."


    "So I do. After silencing my targets, I realized that Ilu Nla has many conflicting forces. These disputes go beyond petty things like wealth and power. A medium called Yasini asked me to escort these two young men to the waterfalls where a group called the Masters of Suspicion live."


    "Who is part of this group, my son?"


    "Three powerful mediums, as far as I know, My Babu. They are former members of the Circle of Sages, mortal enemies of the Head of State of Ilu Nla, Acting President Ojwang. He carried out a recent coup d''¨¦tat, dissolved the traditional institutions and seeks to transform the old monarchy into a republic."


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    "I didn''t understand the relevance of the two young men in this equation, Fadala."


    "The boy''s name is Akachi, he''s a medium. He has an exoskeleton connected to one of the Seven Keys of the Spirit, that of Faith."


    Babu folded his hands behind his back and raised his chin. He remained silent for a few moments. He wondered what he should do.


    "Ever since Ojwang appeared, I''ve always perceived him as an agent of chaos. Like something that didn''t belong in this world. His existence disturbs me. My predictions about him have proved accurate, Fadala, my son. The Il¨º Apanyan, after many centuries, will act as the scales of justice. It will force its weight until everything is balanced again. You will force that weight, my son¡­"


    For a moment, the man hesitated. Fadala longed to know the rest. Sometimes he saw in his Babu the figure of a prophet, whose positive or negative words vibrated the fabric of existence with undoubted truth. His intuition knew no bounds. He felt honored to serve a man like him.


    "Go on, My Babu."


    "It won''t be an easy mission. You could lose your life on your mission. But as a funeral director, you shouldn''t fear death. It is an extension of life, and only those who have truly lived can know its mystery. It is only known to those who do not fear it."


    "I understand, My Babu. I will do as you wish."


    "This Akachi can be either our salvation or our downfall. May God allow him to be the one and not the other. Take him and his companion to the Masters of Suspicion. Protect them, and if the former wise men prove dangerous, eliminate them. Use the boy as an entry card to Ilu Nla, and kill Ojwang. Those who stand between you and your mission must suffer the same fate. May God smooth your path and remove your difficulties, my son Fadala."


    "May God do the same for you, my Babu."


    The conversation ended. Fadala twisted his neck, emitting a crunching sound. The leader of the assassins had asked for something difficult. The Il¨º Apanyan agent knew the reputation of the Phalanx members. He couldn''t come in shooting and killing. Ojwang''s cybersoldiers had high-tech weapons, many of them unknown.


    The man pondered. If Ilu Nla''s forces had the same firepower as the bipedal tanks they faced on Chrome Hill, a single field agent wouldn''t be enough. Fadala trusted his abilities, but there was a difference between acting solo and having to look after and protect people.


    The Il¨º Apanyan assassins trained together until they became members of the order. However, they acted alone in society as sleeper cells. They waited to be activated and acted, without remorse, pity or hesitation. They knew the language of death and only dealt with it.


    Gradually, both Akachi and Spin Bomb woke up. They had been put in the back seat. They fell asleep clinging to each other. When they saw each other, they uttered a cry of astonishment. They felt the same shame that Adam and Eve knew in Paradise. Each went to one side. With his face flushed, Spin Bomb asked:


    "Why were you grabbing me like that?"


    "I, uh, was cold¡­ I guess."


    "No, you were just tired."


    Fadala cast his shadow over them. The pair of young men jumped out of the vehicle. They got into attack formation. Akachi pulled out the sticks and Spin Bomb lit his portable torch.


    "Come on, baldy! What kind of freak are you?"


    "Yeah, where is everybody? What have you done to us, Mr. Nobody?"

 Song 40: Journey to the northeast

    The man in the suit held his hands up. He didn''t want to intimidate the two young people. He had no children and no babysitting experience. He thought it would be a long journey to the falls. He exhaled all the air in his lungs.


    "Calm down, you''re very tense. I think now it''s time for the round of questions and answers. I''ll save you the time. Yes, Yasini asked me to take you to the Masters of Suspicion, they are former members of the Circle of Sages. No, he couldn''t come with us and stayed behind to fight the police. Yes, we can''t go back. No, I''ll go with you."


    Akachi and Spin Bomb narrowed their eyes. They grimaced as if they hadn''t understood a word. It was as if they were speaking in different languages.


    Fenyang appeared and floated towards the hitman. He rested his forearm on the man''s right shoulder. He looked at Fadala, then turned to Akachi. The Ori Guardian said:


    Are you sure you''re going to trust the big man here? He''s got military training and the bearing of a mercenary, bro. He''s probably trying to steal whatever key you have. Better give him a few kicks.


    No, he saved us from Chrome Hill. Yasini trusts him¡­


    Yasini and Zuber tried to steal your key, bro. They only gave up after we beat them up. Who''s to say this guy won''t put the squeeze on us in the future? It''s up to you, bro. I didn''t like you at all, bro. You''re that nice guy who comes in and steals the show with your big, edgy character nose.


    Akachi started biting his lip hard. Fenyang stretched out his index finger and stuck it up Fadala''s nose like a snot. The medium had an involuntary fit of laughter. He folded in half from laughing so hard.


    "Stop it, Fenyang! I''m going to die laughing."


    The assassin raised an eyebrow. He could hardly imagine who it could be.


    "Who''s Fenyang, Akachi?"


    "He''s my Ori Guardian. He decided to help me on my journey. He even taught me how to fight. I''m very grateful to him."


    "This interaction between medium and spirit is fascinating¡­"


    Spin Bomb jabbed Akachi in the head to stop him laughing.


    "Fascinating, my ass! It''s weird, all right. There''s a fourth person around us, and we don''t even see it. I shiver like a cat when they talk to each other. Is there any water in that airplane? Never mind, I''ve got it. Where are we going? What''s your name again? Glup, glup, glup¡­"


    Fadala saw Spin Bomb drink half its water supply in less than a minute.


    This one''s going to be a handful, it would have been better to leave her on Chrome Hill.


    "My name is Fadala, Spin Bomb. The aeromobile has no more power, and there''s no portable charger. From here, we''ll have to get going. If my tracking skills aren''t faulty, there should be a river just ahead. We''ll follow its banks to the falls."


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    "What a shitty plan, huh."


    "He''s right, Spin Bomb. We can''t stay here unprotected. The Ilu Nla military police could come after us. They might even track me down. I don''t know if the Masters of Suspicion will help us, but I want to try and get to them as quickly as possible."


    "That''s good, right. If you think that bald guy is going to help us, who am I in the vaccine queue?"


    Akachi rolled his eyes. He started walking with the other two. They were careful not to leave any belongings behind. Fadala kept the gallon of water, he didn''t want to die of dehydration along the way.


    The surrounding landscape was barren, with gusts of wind whipping dust in different directions. Only undergrowth and shrubs thrived in the dry, clay soil. With every step, a crunching sound echoed. The sun seemed twice as close to the earth. Large clouds moved lazily across the sky.


    When one of these sparse clouds formed a shadow, it was a brief relief. The trio moved through it until the winds blew the cloud away. There were few stops throughout the morning. They reached the river after midday. To Spin Bomb''s disappointment, they continued upstream. Fadala claimed that it would be safer to camp for the night.


    At nightfall, when the sound of the waterfalls could already be heard, Akachi and Spin Bomb collapsed on the ground. They seemed to have melted during the walk.


    Fadala, sweaty inside his suit, decided it was time to set up camp. He couldn''t even walk anymore. A callus was throbbing inside his shoe. He carefully removed his shoes and moved his toes. He placed his hands on the ground and sat down on a handkerchief he had taken from his jacket pocket.


    Spin Bomb checked his supply bag. He grunted and said:


    "I''m going to make a fire. Akachi, get that frying pan, I''ll see what I can make for us."


    "You talk as if we had a lot of options."


    "My mother used to say: hunger is what makes food taste good. When I''m hungry, I just don''t eat stones because it breaks my teeth."


    The medium held out the frying pan to the sword maker. She took a slab of sert?o meat as thick as four fingers and cut it into slices. She scalded the meat twice to reduce the sun content. Its consistency became solid and it gave off a golden, watery sheen.


    He took a strip of bacon, four cubes in the frying pan. He cut the beef into rectangular strips. On contact with the preheated frying pan, it emitted a low, high-pitched sizzle. An aroma rose into the air. It was inevitable not to salivate at the smell of roasting meat. After that, she removed the meat and put it in a plastic pot.


    She used the fat from the frying pan and made a cassava flour stew with just water and salt. When she had finished, she poured the roasted meat into the pir?o and dropped three spoonfuls in. The consistency of the pir?o was like a viscous, yellowish porridge.


    "Bon app¨¦tit."


    Fenyang looked at the porridge. That was the biggest disadvantage of being a spirit, not being able to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh.


    Wow, Akachi, I''m going to possess your body to eat that prion, bro.


    If you do that, I''ll exorcise you. Don''t even come!


    Don''t worry, it''s just so I can taste this backwoods meat.


    No way, this is my food.


    Let''s hope it gives you a stomach ache!


    With pleasure, Fenyang.


    The trio ate greedily. They had exhausted themselves during the walk. A water and salt stew with backwoods meat lifted even the dead. When they had finished eating, they fell backwards onto the ground. It was simple food, but very heavy. It was slow to digest and made the body very sleepy. Akachi put his hands behind his head and said:


    "If the Masters of Suspicion are former sages, then they must be very strong."


    "They must have left Ilu Nla when they realized Ojwang''s deceit. I hope they''re peaceful and will help us, Akachi. You and I are going to need a lot of help from now on."


    "I know, Spin Bomb. It''s going to be an opportunity to learn more about mediumship. I can''t wait to talk to them."


    Fadala stood up with his hands on his stomach. He walked in a funny way. He walked slowly in the opposite direction to the pair. Akachi scratched his head, Spin Bomb laughed.


    Mediums, sages¡­ right now I just want to know the nearest restroom.

 Song 41: Diving into memories

    Akachi slept restlessly. He thought it was the food, but that wasn''t the case. The taste of that porridge-like food stimulated his memories. His memories fought with the tiredness of the journey, the latter winning out during the night. Waking up early in the morning, before the others, Akachi went to the riverbank.


    He squatted down and, with his shell-shaped hands, took some water and washed his face. He closed his eyes. The early morning chill made his skin crawl. She closed her eyes and let the water run down her face. He put his arms on his knees and stared at the river. He expelled the air from his lungs and touched the surface of the water with his fingertips.


    He saw his image reflected in the water. He was lying on a tubular bed, wearing hospital clothes. He was thin and sickly-looking, although he was younger. His hair was disheveled. He seemed immobile. Two other people were in the room. He couldn''t make out their faces. They seemed to be arguing.


    The Akachi on the bed was following the conversation. He was pretending to sleep. In that situation, he didn''t seem to have any autonomy.


    "Adisa, my son, Ojwang is not what you think. One of the wise men is missing. Some members of the Circle of Sages have accused him of being responsible. I don''t think this man is as benevolent as you make him out to be. I think he''s using you. The sages didn''t agree to this experiment¡­ there could be unexpected consequences."


    "Dad, when Furaha died, I felt guilty about his death. I feel guilty for seeing my son crippled on a bed, condemned to the rest of his life without being able to run and play like other children. I''m a renowned scientist, I''ve tried all kinds of treatments, and none have worked so far."


    Adisa turned to the opposite wall and punched it lightly. She didn''t want to wake her son. He had undergone a battery of tests the night before and had become very tired. That was all his routine amounted to, experimental treatments and periodic check-ups.


    "What''s the point of having mastery of Ax¨¦ and not being able to cure just one person? It''s your grandson, Father. The Circle of Sages can''t rule over you."


    The scientist crossed his arms in defiance and stared at his father. His interlocutor smoothed his face with both hands and retorted:


    "You''re being cruel to me, Adisa. True, they threatened to remove me from office. However, the Spiritual Key of Faith, like the other six spiritual keys, does not belong to the group. It is a legacy from our ancestors that has been given to us."


    The old man took out the Spiritual Key of Faith and offered it to his son. He had no talent for mediumship, but that didn''t stop him from feeling its power. A current of Ax¨¦ ran through his fingers and down his whole body; there was compatibility between the scientist and the tool.


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    "It''s appropriate for a power like that to be at the service of its community. I would sacrifice myself so that my grandson could have a normal life. Adisa, listen to me. If you believe in Ojwang''s words, and if this treatment can make my grandson live a normal life, do what you have to do. She is your legacy from now on."


    "I will, my father. I thank you. Today you open a door to science, one in which Ax¨¦ will go hand in hand with the scientific method."


    "I have wished since your birth that you would become a member of the Circle of Sages. A medium who would continue our work, preserve the cult of ancestry. You preferred to follow the path of science, logic and reason. You turned away from the faith that our clan is so devoted to."


    Adisa felt that for the first time his father was being frank with him. Since the death of his wife Furaha, he had only argued with Azekel. This time, he wasn''t prevaricating.


    "I never told you that, my son. I was sad when you told me you would deny your legacy to be a scientist. Unlike me, you don''t believe in fate or anything like that. I still believe in all that. There must be a reason for the events that have happened. I just hope the consequences are good. I''ll keep my faith in you."


    He went over to Adisa and, after a long time, gave her a hug. Adisa clasped the old man''s body to hers and rested her head on her father''s shoulder. She looked at Akachi, who was still lovingly pretending to be asleep.


    Gradually, the image began to look watery. His clothes became wet. The boy felt the thread take over his body. He felt himself being thrown in different directions at high speed. He passed out in the confusion of his senses. He only woke up after an indeterminate time.


    Fadala was massaging his chest. He tried to speak, but vomited water. Spin Bomb held his head gently. Fenyang was nearby, bent forward and with his hands on his knees. Finally, Akachi emitted a deep breathing sound, everyone fell backwards onto the floor, the medium was out of danger.


    The boy remained on the floor. Drool was dripping from the corner of his mouth. Fenyang knelt down next to him and said:


    "What a fright you gave us."


    Spin Bomb stood up and helped Akachi to her feet. On wobbly legs, she led him to a rock and he sat down. His lungs wheezed. The girl slapped him on the back, which caused the rest of the water inside Adisa''s son''s body to spill out.


    "Do you want to kill me Spin Bomb?"


    "The next time you scare us like that, Akachi, I''m going to kill you!"


    "I don''t remember what happened. I was by the river and¡­"


    Fadala came over to the pair, sat down and put on his shoes. He was only wearing pants. His jacket, shirt and pistol holster were beside him. He had dived into the water to rescue him from the river''s current.


    "I know what happened here. You had an epileptic seizure and fell into the water. You were swept away by the strong current. If you hadn''t woken up at that time, you would have drowned. It''s probably not the first time this has happened."


    "Thank you, Mr. Fadala. I woke up early and went to wash my face. I ended up having memories of my childhood¡­ I can''t explain it, I just broke down. I didn''t want to worry you, it was involuntary."


    Spin Bomb took a blanket and offered it to his friend. He rekindled the fire. The fire consumed the wood with its red flames. The firework sword artisan prepared a bitter coffee. They ate their breakfast there, then set up camp and headed for the foot of the waterfall. It was there that Akachi would find out more about his past.

 Song 42: Medium instinct

    The climate was milder at the top of the waterfall, where the long river flowed with thunderous force. The soil was stonier. On the right bank of the river, there were three circular huts.


    The conical roof was made of dry straw. About sixty centimeters of the wall was made of rough stacked stone, the rest was made up of wooden lattices woven with vines, and covered with layers of clay dried in the sun. They were rammed earth houses, a form of rustic architecture.


    In a joint effort, two men kneaded the clay extracted from the lower regions. A third man, covered in a large light brown hooded cloak, prepared lunch. The masses of clay were put together bare-handed by the pair, without the aid of any tools. The workers had black skin dyed red. The clay mixed with their sweat and formed thick crusts on their skin.


    The hooded man stirred the clay pot with a large wooden spoon. Around the yard, there were some dry logs that served as seats. Right in front of the fire, in a prominent place, was an oval stone half a meter long, pink in color and looking like a pebble. Several white symbols adorned it. One of them began to glow.


    The spoon stopped moving. The hooded man looked at the rock. He smiled and shouted to his companions:


    "We have visitors!"


    A deep, imperative voice answered the hooded man.


    "Put more water in the beans."


    An elderly-looking man appeared behind the cook. He had a long, curly beard and his hair flowed down to his shoulders, long and greasy. His face with its protruding forehead was covered with a gray frame. Only his dark moustache broke up the whiteness. He was of medium height, but had a respectable build for his age.


    "Gee, we never get visitors, Feruzi. I hope they''ve brought us presents."


    "Lucky for them, we''re very hospitable."


    Another man came up behind the gray-haired old man. This third man was younger than the others. He had brown skin, a thin face and full black moustaches. His hair was short and straight, the color of the night. Unlike his meditative companion, his eyes conveyed self-confidence, to the point of making him smug.


    "We''re not finished, Mashal, it''s not noon yet. Cut the small talk and come back here, I need a hand¡­ um, who''s here for lunch?"


    Feruzi turned to his interlocutor and replied:


    "My Scratched Point barrier registered the Ax¨¦ of three people. One of them is a medium. The other two are probably no less dangerous. They could be mercenaries sent by Ilu Nla."


    "Don''t brag about your magical powers. Ojwang already owns the state, old Feruzi. You don''t need that kind of gimmick anymore. Well, my spear is rusty. I need to lubricate it in someone''s blood."


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    Feruzi shook his head. He had made the overlapping circles of protection. He had noticed the presence of the invaders before the others. He felt he had a right to fight.


    "Not at all, I''m older than you, seniors have priority."


    "Unfortunately, you can''t sunbathe, Feruzi. Besides, you''re the only one here who can cook. Nyatui and I will decide odd or even who will go down and face our enemies."


    The hooded man stood up from where he was and turned to the pair who were mocking him. He raised his fist and argued:


    "No, that doesn''t seem fair. Let''s go rock-paper-scissors, whoever wins will have the right to face our enemies."


    The three of them looked at each other. They raised their fists to their chins. Veins began to pop out on each of their faces. Beads of sweat dripped from their temples. A breeze ruffled Feruzi''s cape. He swallowed. His fist trembled with tension. Mashal bluffed with a yellow smile. Nyatui gritted his teeth.


    They shook their closed fists three times. They shouted the command in unison to reveal their moves. To everyone''s surprise, both Mashal and Feruzi played scissors. Nyatui played rock. The losers slumped their shoulders and looked at the ground.


    "Ah, screw you old men!"


    "It has to be a best of three."


    "It wasn''t worth it, you waited too long¡­"


    "Not at all, a promise is a debt. Stay here and I''ll take care of the rest. I hope to have lunch ready when I arrive."


    Before his colleagues could say anything, he ran towards the river and dived into it like a fish. He swam towards the waterfall.


    Feruzi let out a sigh and returned to his seat. He picked up the handle of the wooden spoon and went back to stirring the large clay pot. Mashal sat down around him and inhaled the aroma of beans and cooked meat coming from the stew.


    "I hate it when he acts without thinking."


    "He sits on the Throne of Force, Mashal. We don''t run away from the destiny we''ve chosen."


    "I know, it''s just that sometimes he seems like a child."


    "You shouldn''t have said that, old friend."


    Three child spirits appeared and jumped on Mashal with punches and kicks. Boys of the same appearance. Their hair was curly and very dark. They were wearing green vests and blue pants with pink stripes. They were under fifteen years old. If they had any differences, it was down to their personalities.


    The trio were the Ori Guardian of Feruzi, they were Er¨ºs. Ancestral spirits who had not come of age. They kept their childish energy and behavior. This didn''t make them any less wise or powerful, it just made them more difficult for the medium to control.


    After the attack, Mashal stood up with his eyes swollen shut and a trickle of drool running from the corner of his lip.


    "I warned you, Mashal, you know very well how Selassi¨¦ acts. Ekon, Iregi¡­ even you, Suluhu, stop this childish behavior."


    The trio kept their heads down. They bit their trembling lips. They crossed their arms, looked away from Feruzi and evanesced.


    Mashal rose from the ground once more. He wiped the drool dripping from his beard. He put an elbow on his knee and propped up his chin with the same arm. He smiled slightly as he saw the flames consuming the sticks.


    "Arf¡­ I wish I was in Nyatui''s place right now. He must be having a lot of fun. Too bad it won''t last."


    The bearded man raised an eyebrow. With the help of a wooden hook, he removed the clay pot from the fire and left the lid slightly ajar to slow down the cooking. He looked at Mashal and retorted:


    "He won''t be here before noon, old friend. He''ll probably come back unconscious. The amount of Ax¨¦ my magic has registered is not small. It''s at or above the level of a sage. That''s the result of people like Nyatui, who act only through the power of their unconscious. So take your plate, Mashal. Let''s have lunch!"

 Song 43: Attack of opportunity

    The trio of travelers were close to the base of the waterfall. The waterfall flowed from a stone wall more than three hundred meters high. At the foot, the water fell with force and formed a sheet of white foam. Surrounding it was a pool of black stones, pure and crystal clear.


    That freshness brought an incredible calm to the body. The visitors felt tired, their clothes soaked in sweat. They were covered in accumulated dust. Spin Bomb looked at Akachi, who looked at Fadala. Without saying anything, they all responded. They quickly dumped their belongings on the banks. They removed their clothes.


    Fadala stopped before jumping. Spin Bomb and Akachi were less perceptive. A white inscription appeared on a rock to their left. The pair of young men continued in the water, throwing water at each other. The hitman had no other reaction, he ran towards the guns and shouted:


    "Get out of the water!"


    "Huh?"


    The water from the waterfall split in two. Out of the middle of the crevice emerged a man with a metal spear in both hands. He fell into the natural pool like a meteor. A wave came up, throwing water in all directions. The lancer stood in the middle of the natural pool, and only then did the water start flowing again. It hadn''t hit anyone.


    Fadala, with both pistols raised, fired a series of shots at the enemy. He hit all the projectiles without moving. The lancer turned his spear and pointed the blade towards the shooter. He gritted his teeth, spat on the stones and said:


    "I should have aimed at you."


    On the other side of the bank, facing the Il¨º Apanyan agent, Akachi held Spin Bomb in his lap.


    "Who are you? Why are you attacking us so cowardly?"


    "Hunf, you''re the ones who invaded our refuge. I doubt you''ve come here to sightsee. You must be inexperienced mercenaries to act like this."


    Spin Bomb blushed and jumped out of Akachi''s arms, knocking him off balance. She pointed her index finger at him and shouted under her breath:


    "YOU IDIOT! You come in like this, just like that, ruin our bath and you think that''s going to be it? Go on, Akachi, kick his ass."


    She hid behind the boy and looked over her shoulder at her opponent.


    "Spin Bomb, wait a minute, don''t keep provoking the enemy for nothing."


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    Fenyang appeared next to Akachi. He pointed at his opponent and commented:


    "Bro, things are about to get tense. Get a grip!"


    "Enough of this nonsense, Nyatui. Kill those bastards."


    A woman with skin as dark as night appeared behind the lancer. She was tall, with a majestic build and an athletic body. She wore a long orange split skirt. Various pieces of silver and pewter jewelry adorned her body, especially the bracelets in the form of rings linked by chains.


    Her bust was covered with two red bands adorned with dark seeds. Her face was hidden by a veil made of small white conches. Her curly hair was covered by a large triangular crown. She wore a long spear, the same color and shape as the one used by her medium Nyatui. The blade was shaped like a leaf.


    Nyatui looked at her Ori Guardian and growled angrily:


    "Stay out of this, you old hag! I''ll do it my way."


    "Your way is clumsy."


    "Shut up, Mrs. Dalji!"


    The lancer moved extremely quickly to a stock. He aimed for the boy''s chest. Spin Bomb squeezed him around the waist, making it difficult for him to move. Without his Ori Guardian and his staff, Akachi was helpless. Only a miracle could save him from the attack. It came in the form of a bullet.


    Before it could hit Adisa''s son, the blade was deflected with one shot. The spear hit the stony ground. This allowed Akachi to pick up his friend and head for the other shore. Fadala looked at Akachi, the other confirmed that he hadn''t been hurt.


    Blimey! I got careless thanks to those two brats. I should be attracting less attention.


    Akachi put the girl down. He picked up his two sticks and slammed them down. Fenyang knew what that meant.


    "We''re not your enemies. We don''t need to fight. I came here looking for answers. My name is Akachi, I''m Adisa''s son, Azekel''s grandson. I''ve been to Chrome Hill, and I met your disciple Yasini. He taught me the mediumistic arts, and after the favela was invaded, he sent us here. They said they would help me recover my memories."


    Nyatui listened to everything without saying anything. After Akachi had finished, he had an involuntary fit of laughter. He glared at the young medium and sneered:


    "I doubt very much that you''re the son of that traitor who gave up his entire country to save his son''s life. Even if it''s true, who says we''re allies? Your father betrayed us all. He gave Ilu Nla on a plate to Ojwang. He gave away the secrets of the mediums to that usurping scoundrel. I wanted to kill Adisa and Azekel, but I couldn''t do it. Since you''ve come here, whether it''s Akachi or not, I''ll take my anger out on you."


    "Don''t be an idiot. Yasini believed in you, I do too. My father was manipulated by Ojwang, I know that. We know who the real enemy is here. Look, I''m telling the truth."


    Akachi pointed to his chest. Nyatui narrowed his eyes. He saw the shape of the spiritual key, with its pentagram wrapped around a rim. The Ori Guardian and her medium struck an attack pose:


    "If you really were Yasini''s pupil, that makes you my disciple indirectly. All right, I''ll give you the benefit of the doubt. If you manage to fend off my attack, or rather, if you manage to survive, I''ll be willing to listen to what you have to say."


    "You''re making things difficult, aren''t you?"


    "Better get your spirits up, kid. I don''t want to be unfair to you."


    "I''ll only sign my Ori Guardian if you sign yours too."


    Nyatui took this as a challenge. He went after Akachi with all his strength and fury. The young medium let the air out of his lungs and concentrated his Ax¨¦ on the sticks. He waited until the last moment for the enemy to approach. The result of his action was unexpected even for his opponent.

 Song 44: From thought to action

    The spear approached the young medium''s chest, tumm. Before it was pierced, forming a pair of scissors with the sticks, he caught the spear. He extended it upwards. Nyatui''s weapon stood upright, crushing his hooked nose. The sticks squeezed his neck. He had been immobilized. If Akachi wanted to, he could choke him.


    The ex-sage smiled. He hadn''t had this much fun for a long time. He stepped back, undid his spear and straightened his nose. His Guardian Ori went to his ear and whispered:


    You always underestimate your enemy, Nyatui. One day, that could cost you dearly.


    I don''t mind dying, Mrs. Dalji, as long as it''s to an honorable enemy.


    Sometimes you seem to want to become an ancestor at an early age.


    Leave me alone! No more lectures.


    Akachi picked up the sticks. The fight was over. Adrenaline was still coursing through his body. He had no interest in continuing the conflict, but he wouldn''t run away from the fight if Nyatui wanted him to. He had noticed that unlike Yasini''s tin javelin, Nyatui had dematerialized his weapon.


    "Your spear is made of Ax¨¦, isn''t it?"


    "I''m surprised you only noticed that now, you little prick."


    "Now I know where Yasini got his difficult personality from."


    "Enough talk, kid. You''ve convinced me. No one who has seen this technique would know how to survive it. Follow me."


    Spin Bomb ran towards her clothes, began to dress, stumbling in the process. She looked at Fadala, who was already stuffed into his suit and adjusting his tie.


    "How did you get dressed so quickly?"


    Akachi also put on his shorts and shirt. The trio picked up their belongings and waited for Nyatui to show them the way. As if it were the simplest thing in the world, he leapt towards the stone wall and started climbing.


    The girl let her shoulders slump. She pouted and grumbled:


    "Isn''t there a staircase? Preferably a flight of stairs?"


    "There''s a less steep part, but you have to go around it, and it takes a while. If you''re too lazy to climb, climb on my back."


    Grudgingly, Spin Bomb grabbed onto the man''s neck. Jumping from crevice to crevice, he climbed up. Fadala and Azekel''s grandson looked at each other. Not wanting to be left behind, they started climbing too.


    They climbed the hundreds of meters. Only the sword maker complained the whole way. When they reached the top, she collapsed on Nyatui''s back. Her body shook with fear. Nyatui tapped her on the shoulder. She looked ahead and saw the huts. The smell of beans cooking in a clay pot awoke her taste buds.


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    She ran towards the pot. He uncovered it. Before she could put the spoon in, Feruzi slapped her hand. Spin Bomb recoiled in fright.


    "Ah! Who are you?"


    "I''m the cook¡­"


    The others arrived and took their places. They sat around the wood fire. Nyatui, Mashal and Feruzi faced the newcomers. They greeted each other and introduced themselves. Akachi explained what he had come to do. The trio of old mediums looked at each other and Feruzi retorted:


    "We can''t help. In fact, we don''t want to help anymore. When the sage of knowledge disappeared, we suspected Minister Ojwang. We only had convictions, until we discovered his secret plans. We denounced him, but he used all his influence in the kingdom to reverse the accusation. We left our land as traitors to the homeland, spies, subversive agents."


    Mashal clapped a hand on his knee and amended:


    "The Circle of Sages was slow to act. They clung to power and paid to see. They preferred to remain in their comfortable positions, we preferred to abdicate. Of course, it was reported otherwise."


    Nyatui spat sideways. All that talk was making him irritable.


    "It was better to abdicate than to look those idiots in the face. One of us disappears and the king asks us to calm down. He got the end he deserved."


    Fadala sensed a certain resentment in the men''s voices. Through them, he received new information. What the Ilu Nla press said didn''t correspond to what the former wise men preached. The power struggle between the mediums and Ojwang with his cybersoldiers ran much deeper than Il¨º Apanyan had imagined.


    I had a lot of questions to ask, but I couldn''t let on that I was too interested in the subject. That could turn off the tap of inside information. He had to let Akachi unravel the events.


    Adisa''s son bit his lips. He was afraid to ask. He knew he was just another piece in the series of events, he just didn''t realize how important it was.


    "A sage has passed away, and his Spiritual Key is not with you. The Spiritual Key of Faith is with me. So there are at least five sages left with their respective keys. If I were to look for them, would they be my allies or my enemies?"


    Feruzi put his pale fingers under his chin and meditated for a few moments.


    "The wise see your father as an enemy, Akachi. Just like Azekel. There is no doubt that Adisa was a collaborator with Ojwang, even if he was coerced or blackmailed. You are living proof of what I''m talking about. He has his share of the blame for the events, but he''s not the only one. We all failed."


    Mashal crossed his arms and nodded in agreement.


    "If we had carried out a pre-emptive coup and seized power, Ojwang wouldn''t have been on the throne. We''d be revolutionaries today, not self-exiles¡­"


    "Pure nonsense! You and your utopian dreams of social conscience. Every dog only licks its own wounds. The people aren''t as politicized as you think they are. They don''t even care who''s in power, they just want a false sense of stability. This mushy collectivism is useless."


    "Your individualism has always caused us problems, Nyatui. Have you ever thought that we wouldn''t even be mediums if we didn''t use the power of our Ori Guardians? Think about it. I know that your selfishness doesn''t allow you to see the end of your nose, but make an effort. The only way to regain power is by stirring up the population and making them aware of your intentions. The people of Ilu Nla must stop being spectators and become the protagonists of their own history."


    Feruzi puffed out his cheeks and blew out all the air. He picked up clay plates and distributed them to those present. That kind of discussion between the two never stopped. As he placed the portions on the plates, he declared:


    "It would be good if we were that rational, dear friends. I believe that our actions are less conscious than we believe. We have one conviction and several contradictions."


    Everyone listened in silence. They were curious to know where it would end.


    "For Ojwang, mediums are a problem. They generate disunity, conflict, violence and poverty in our country. To remedy the impurity he projected onto us, he practiced the same violence, conflicts, etc."


    "Feruzi explains!"


    Nyatui mocked his companion. Feruzi tried to reply, but gave up. They began to have lunch.


    Yasini''s master turned to Akachi and asked:


    "You said you learned the mediumistic arts from Yasini. What did he actually teach you?"


    At that question, Akachi choked. His face turned purple. The former wise men stared at him. The boy, pressured by those inquisitive stares, fell backwards coughing.

 Song 45: Discharge session

    What do they want to hear?


    "Master Yasini helped me discover my mediumistic profile. I''m a CRPA. He explained how I could use the electromagnetic properties of Ax¨¦. Thanks to him, I understood what the Spiritual Key of Faith was and how it could help me. I thank him very much."


    Nyatui scratched his chin with his hooked fingertips. However, his gaze emitted a subtle reproach.


    "That''s it?"


    "Uoh! Don''t talk like that, I''ve only had a month''s training. After that, so much happened that I couldn''t advance in my training, Mr. Nyatui."


    "So that fool didn''t teach you anything about Ax¨¦ modeling?"


    Feruzi stirred the embers with a stick. That conversation had piqued his interest.


    "Yasini must not have taught you anything about Magic of Scratched Point either."


    Mashal crossed his arms and shook his head in the negative.


    "You mustn''t even have mentioned changing the state of matter by means of Ax¨¦."


    Akachi put both hands on his forehead, started kicking the air and shouted:


    "I didn''t have time to learn any of that stuff!"


    The trio of former sages laughed at the boy''s ignorance on the subject of mediumship. The heir to the Spiritual Key of Faith didn''t know the extent of his powers or that of the mystical artifact. He had the power of a sage, but at that level, he would be easy prey for Ilu Nla''s armed forces. Feruzi looked at him and said:


    "Son, in your situation, you would be easily captured by any member of the Phalanx. If you don''t strengthen yourself, they''ll take your key. Stay here and train with us. When you''re ready, you can resume your journey."


    "I thank you, sir, but I can''t. I have little time. We need to go underground to Ilu Nla. An illegal fighting tournament takes place every quarter. I have less than a month to get there. We need to get the organizers interested and enter the city."


    Nyatui spat sideways. He was irritated by the young medium''s plan.


    "You''re pretty dumb to be Azekel''s grandson. All the Phalanx wants most is to arrest you and extract your Spiritual Key. And what do you intend to do? Hand it over to our enemies. Like father, like son."


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    Akachi held his knees tightly. His Ax¨¦ began to spread throughout the place. The atmosphere around him became heavy, with an electric aura surrounding him.


    Spin Bomb shielded himself with his arms. Fadala''s eyes widened as he saw a great force coming from the boy. Feruzi and his companions noticed something more than that uncontainable force.


    "You don''t control your Ax¨¦ vibration, do you?"


    "Sorry, I didn''t mean to..."


    "It wasn''t an irony, kid, I''m being literal!"


    "Leave him alone, Nyatui. You''re too rude to deal with younger people."


    Feruzi walked over to Akachi. He held out his palm, pale as cotton. A small, weak light was emitted. He focused the light on Akachi''s metallic exoskeleton. Several symbols began to appear, as if they were seals.


    "That''s Adisa''s work, that zimba looks awful"


    "Zimba?"


    "It''s the signature of the Scratched Point. Yours was done improperly, hastily as if scratched by an amateur. Tell me, young man, what happens when you''re in danger?"


    "Oh, I can''t say. Well, I feel as if an electric current runs through my whole body."


    "Um... You see. The Spiritual Key of Faith has been connected to you via this supporting exoskeleton. Thanks to it, you can move. If it''s removed, your body will automatically atrophy... sorry, I didn''t mean to scare you. I just wanted to warn you about your situation."


    Damn! Without this thing I''ll just be a cripple.


    The boy felt a shiver run down his spine. He hugged his abdomen in defense. He bit his lower lip, which kept trembling. He swallowed down the urge to cry. She didn''t quite understand what she was feeling. Her hands fingered her thighs rapidly, it was as if she was losing control of her limbs.


    Feruzi put his hands on her shoulders. He looked gently into her eyes. Calmly, he continued:


    "Relax, I know what you''re thinking. It''s not easy to get the Spiritual Key out of there. You can only do it with a Settlement. It''s resonating with your spirit, there''s a great compatibility between the vibration of your inner portal and the key."


    He removed his hands from the boy''s shoulders and returned to his seat. He lit a pipe, swallowed the smoke and blew gray wisps into the air.


    "However, it seems to me that the seal on the exoskeleton needs to be reinforced, Akachi. The key is constantly emitting too much Divine Power to you. Your body hasn''t strengthened enough to receive this charge."


    He pointed his pipe in the direction of Adisa''s son, took another puff and declared:


    "Every time you feel threatened, the key deposits high amounts of Ax¨¦ in your body. This happens on an instinctive level. That''s why I asked you what happens in moments of danger."


    "I don''t know what I should do..."


    "We need to discharge your energies to stabilize the resonance between you and the Spiritual Key. I''ll make a set of Scratched Points on top of the first seal."


    The former sage explained that Akachi should abstain from food and physical activity for twenty-four hours. He would receive passes from Feruzi and the other two mediums to cancel out his unstable vibrations. After that, the old man would scratch the points on his body with pemba, an oval white chalk.


    Lying face down on the ground, under a sequence of points scratched into the ground, Akachi would be enveloped in a bubble of spiritual discharge. In this state of deep trance, other mediums would be vulnerable. They would have to wear a patu¨¢, an amulet to shock back any quizila, negative vibrations or spiritual forces harmful to the medium.


    It was not uncommon for disincarnate spirits to seek to possess mediums in this condition. However, the Spirit Key would serve as a powerful shield. Even so, the boy would be vulnerable to physical attacks if the discharge barrier fell. He would have to be protected and prevented from waking up before the discharge session was over.


    If he was woken up too soon, he would suffer some kind of sequelae. He could even die. Feruzi finished smoking his pipe. He looked at Akachi and asked:


    "I can''t give you a one hundred percent guarantee that it will work. It''s up to you. If it works, you''ll become a sage indeed. What do you say, young man?"

 Song 46: Panorama

    Akachi put one hand on his left knee to restrain his nervous leg. With his free hand, he rubbed his eyes under his glasses. All his choices had been difficult up to that point. For someone who had been discarded in the garbage aeromobile by Ilu Nla, he had done well for himself. At least he had managed to survive.


    Everyone looked at him anxiously. Spin Bomb was biting his nails. Fadala kept his eyes firmly on the boy. The former sages were attentive.


    "Well, I guess¡­"


    Akachi opened his mouth, and before he could finish his thought, the girl complained with her arms outstretched:


    "Ah! Yes or no, just say it!"


    Everyone turned their frightened eyes to Spin Bomb, and she shrugged her head like an intimidated turtle.


    "Sorry¡­"


    "Hunhun, as I was saying, I will follow your advice, Mr. Feruzi. I think the dangers I''m about to face may be too great. I need all the help I can get."


    "Very well, tomorrow your fast begins. The day after that, we''ll put you in the Discharge Barrier. Now, get some rest. You can repeat it if you like."


    "Uoh, no, thank you, Mr. Feruzi. We''re tired from the trip and¡­"


    Spin Bomb quickly came over with a plate and a spoon. He was licking his lips.


    "Speak for yourself, I''ll fill my belly!"


    Fenyang floated up next to Akachi. They both looked ashamed of themselves. They put their hands to their faces and shook their heads.


    She never misses a chance to embarrass us, Akachi.


    If it were a championship, she would have won by now.


    Of course she would, she''s the only one competing! Why didn''t you leave her on the savannah?


    She was the only one who knew the area¡­


    The trio of mediums showed us their residences. The huts were neither large nor comfortable. The furniture was sparse, made of rustic wood taken from some nearby forests. There were pots of drinking water, aluminum mugs served as lids. They slept in hammocks made of fabric from plant fibers.


    In the center of the huts, a small stove emitted smoke towards an opening in the roof. Around the opening in the roof, the straw had taken on a grayish appearance. They had no access to any digital technology. They used to get news from Ilu Nla and the world via an analog radio. They recharged their batteries with Ax¨¦.


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    Akachi decided to stay with Feruzi, Spin Bomb was invited by Mashal, and Nyatui begrudgingly welcomed Fadala into his hut. The two teenagers fell asleep after lunch. Fadala thought about reporting to Il¨º Apanyan, but Nyatui called him.


    "Do you have a minute, Mr. Elegance?"


    "Ah, yes, up to three for my host."


    "You can make noodles in that time."


    "That''s all it takes to cook."


    The pair walked upstream. Fadala followed the man with all his senses on high alert. He didn''t want to be caught off guard. With a leap, Nyatui climbed onto a large rectangular rock. He looked at Fadala, as if inviting him to do the same. The outsider effortlessly reached the top of the stone.


    "I expected nothing less from an Il¨º Apanyan mortician."


    "My Babu always says that it''s impossible to hide anything from mediums."


    "If you''ve come here to kill us, at least give me a fair fight."


    Nyatui brought out his spear, slimmz! Behind him, Dalji appeared with his spear in hand. Medium and Guardian Ori were prepared to engage in a life-and-death struggle if possible. He pointed the blade at Fadala''s throat.


    "Put your weapons down, you could end up poking someone in the eye with that thing. I''m not here to kill any of you former wise men. I didn''t come to commend any souls to God, or to exact revenge, or to take the law into my own hands¡­"


    "Hmm, and what did you come to do?"


    "To observe."


    "It''s the first time I''ve seen an Il¨º Apanyan assassin put on an observation mission. The Il¨º Apanyan must be on their asses to take such a desperate move."


    Nyatui undid the spear in mid-air. That caught Fadala''s attention. He had murdered mediums in other circumstances, but he had never seen one materialize something with his Ax¨¦.


    "You should teach the boy that magic trick."


    "If he survives, he''ll be able to do something even greater than that."


    "And if he doesn''t?"


    "We keep the key and bury him."


    Nyatui is the pragmatist of the group. He seems to be an individualist, but he''s always on the lookout. Just hope he doesn''t stir up trouble.


    The medium walked away with his spirit. From where he was, Fadala could see a whitish rectangle. It was the wall that separated Ilu Nla from the slums. Next to Ilu Nla, some hills dotted with black and brown. In the background, like the bottom edge of a picture frame, a blue hue weakened by distance.


    Above the star-scrapers, a large tree with an immense crown protruded beyond the clouds. It was Ir?ko, the ''Tree of Time''.


    "It''s like my Babu said, only from a distance can you see its greatness, as well as the passing of the years."


    At the top of the falls, the humidity and the stony ground brought freshness. Below the falls, like a gradient relief, the stones gave way to undergrowth. Dry grasses interspersed with sparse trees and shrubs. After this sun-dried green, there was only arid, clayey soil as red as blood.


    The west coast of Africa had never seemed so enchanting and frightening to Fadala. He climbed down from the rock. He walked towards the mud huts. Towards the afternoon, the team got back to work plastering the walls. With three more pairs of arms, the former wise men finished the task.


    After completing the task, everyone was rewarded with a nice swim in the river. Night fell over the top of the waterfall. The weather turned colder and the humidity increased. A few fireflies appeared, adding their subtle glow to that of the stars. The moon seemed closer, you wanted to touch it with your fingertips.


    Feruzi prepared dinner. Everyone gathered around the fire. Mashal took the radio and put it on a stool. He adjusted the antennae and, throwing a little Ax¨¦ into it, tuned in to Ilu Nla''s pirate radio station. The announcer, with his anti-government stance, said in a voice of repudiation:


    "The illegitimate Interim President of the False Republic of Ilu Nla, will make an important pronouncement to the nation. Open your ears to the most unsympathetic round of lies in the history of this land¡­"


    Everyone stopped to listen. In a deep voice, emitting an air of authority and officialdom, Ojwang made a speech that inflamed the population in the central square. Akachi was surprised by the news. In one of them, the medium who had led the popular uprising in Chrome Hill and the surrounding slums had been arrested. His name was Yasini.

 Song 47: Pronouncement to the Nation - Part 1

    The official residence of Ilu Nla''s head of state was undergoing a mini renovation. It was being stripped of the decorations and symbols reminiscent of the old monarchical order. This had been decreed by Ojwang. The civil servants, with their eagerness to serve quickly and promptly, were already finishing their work in the evening.


    The interim president of the fledgling republic had not yet called for elections to the Constituent Assembly. When questioned about the reasons for the postponement, he claimed that the mediums were still working on behalf of the monarchists. This faction, seen in a generalized way, accused without proof, was considered an element of political instability.


    Public support for the mediums had to be buried once and for all. Ojwang saw the perfect opportunity arising from the war between the Central Command and the Fourth Estate. Without the presence of the press inside the favelas, he made the Intelligence Service release data in trickles.


    In the first hours of the conflict, it was reported that it was a war between criminal factions for power. Then state-owned NeTV released a first-hand report on the influence of the Circle of Sages in the conflict. Finally, after the conflict ceased and the police forces began to implement the Pacifying Police Units, the mediums were blamed for the conflict.


    According to the official narrative, the Circle of Sages, through its intermediary Yasini, used the factions to co-opt agents for a popular uprising against Ilu Nla. The young medium was arrested along with other local criminals. The link between criminality and mediumship was a serious blow to the Circle of Sages, who became even more harassed.


    Ojwang was satisfied. He decided to make his second address to the nation in Central Square, in front of the Ir?ko, the former headquarters of the Ilu Nla Council, where the Circle of Sages carried out its functions. He went back to the presidential office and was left alone to rehearse his speech. He listened to the latest reports via holoprojection.


    The special advisor to the President of the Republic, Lomungo, entered the presidential office with a telephone in his left ear. The organizers of the event were shouting in his ear to bring in the president. Ojwang kept his back turned, leaning against the table and staring at the armored glass window in the background. The official paused indecisively.


    The head of state noticed him, turned around and saw a brown-skinned man in his thirties. His short hair and the alignment of his suit gave him a dull air of bureaucracy. Stumped as he was, Lomungo didn''t know whether or not to hurry the man in front of him.


    "Don''t make that face. I know I''m late, Lomungo. Unfortunately, I didn''t like some points in the speech. I need to emphasize the corruption of the previous government, its meddling in state affairs and the bad influence of the Circle of Sages."


    "That''s right, Your Excellency! It would be good to include some references to the good Gross Domestic Product projections for the next quarter and the recovery of our Stock Exchange."


    Ojwang smiled, showing two horizontal lines of cynical whiteness. He turned to the special advisor who refused to take a step and said:


    "The people don''t care about graphs and charts, Lomungo. They just want to know if the economy is doing well or not, if their salary is enough to buy what they want, and that''s it. Hohohoho, bureaucrats like you only think about statistics, and forget the basics."


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    "Excuse me, Your Excellency."


    There was nothing intimidating about his medium height and ill-kept fifty-six years. Ojwang''s hair was sparse, and gray at the temples. Expression marks made his face look tired. His large nose was second only to his expressive eyes, which stared fixedly as he focused on anything or anyone.


    He wore a lead-grey Oxford suit and a striped tie in the colors of Ilu Nla: red, black and green. The presidential sash had been made in the same colors, and he wore it across his abdomen.


    "I''m ready, Lomungo. Let''s go to the central square."


    The aide opened the door and gave way to the president. Ojwang took the lead and, with firm steps, walked through the palace corridors to the elevator. Lomungo accompanied him and contacted the security guards, who told him that the vehicles were ready, they were just waiting for him to arrive.


    To prevent any attack during the event, the Phalanx drew up a security plan. Jitujeusi, the general closest to the president, would be present at the venue. He would stay out of the public eye and act if necessary.


    After reaching the basement of the building, the security team welcomed them. Lomungo and the head of state got into their vehicles. It would be a motorcade with ten armored aeromobiles. In several buildings along the route, elite snipers were positioned with telescopic sights, thermographic and night vision.


    Drones guided by brain waves would help monitor the perimeters. Air support would be provided by manned military quadcopters with standby units. In addition to road barriers to prevent pedestrians and vehicles from circulating, there would be bipedal tanks. All monitored by the Ilu Nla military satellite. President Ojwang could consider himself the best-guarded man in the world.


    Along the way, people crowded behind police barriers to watch the presidential motorcade pass by. For security reasons, the hood was not removed so that the president could wave to the people.


    With false sentimentality, Ojwang looked at the people squeezed between the police batons and said:


    "It''s a pity I can''t feel that human warmth up close."


    "I know your kindness towards the people of this country, Your Excellency, but it is not sage at this time. There may be sympathizers of the sage among them."


    Ojwang stared at Lomungo and gave him a questioning half-smile.


    "Do you think they still have any popular support?"


    "Don''t get me wrong, Mr. President. But there are always those who seek irrational acts of heroism. They believe that they really are the light of the collective conscience. They are even capable of taking their own lives in order to hurt their target and create the image of a martyr in front of their supporters."


    "That''s right, I''ve seen it happen before my eyes many times¡­"


    As he said this, Ojwang''s voice took on a distant timbre. As if the words had echoed in another time. He was like that, a mixture of uncertainty and mystery. That''s where his power over people came from. Despite being a foreigner, he had carried out a coup d''¨¦tat that went down in national history as a successful revolution.


    No one knew where it came from, and the few who tried to find out disappeared or spiraled into a hole from which they never emerged. Because he had brought innovative technology, and had won the support of the native aristocracy, Ojwang became a successful businessman. He became Ilu Nla''s Minister of Science and Technology.


    What few knew was his extensive influence in the country''s underworld. His shady deals with gangs and mafias that orchestrated the power of the shadows. They all had one and only one enemy: the mediums. This was the only obstacle to the invisible hands pulling their strings and controlling everything at once.


    Ojwang was the catalyst for various forces that, united under his mantle of national renewal, would guarantee a new world. What his allies didn''t know was that this wasn''t a metaphor. The intention went beyond mere word games. Only the statesman and his Phalanx knew. His generals had allied with him not for power, but for the opportunity to be actors and direct witnesses of his birth.


    After crossing the pre-defined route, the motorcade parked next to a stage. A long curtain of armored glass separated the president from a belt of military police, who kept the emotional crowd at bay. Ojwang looked at the scene. He straightened his tie and stepped out of the airplane towards the stage.

 Song 48: Pronouncement to the Nation - Part 2

    He was cheered by the people of Ilu Nla. The spotlight of the NeTV channels and society was on him. Ojwang had a hard time holding back his laughter. The feeling of power was too tasty not to savor. He passed through the corridor of military police, climbed the stairs to the stage and headed for the pulpit.


    Thousands of people jostled to see him. He was the last national hero. People pulled their smartphones out of their pockets and aimed their cameras at the head of state. The president extended his hand in greeting, and the citizens applauded and chanted slogans in his support.


    Behind the cordon of security guards and the armored glass wall, Ojwang adjusted the microphone. He looked from one side of the crowd to the other. He shook his head, satisfied. In a firm voice, he declared:


    "Citizens of Ilu Nla. It is an immense honor to govern this nation, a country that has adopted me like a son. Twenty years ago, I was just a tech entrepreneur looking for opportunities, and I''ve reached places I never dreamed of¡­"


    Ojwang didn''t finish his thought. In the Central Square, the population began to chant his name like a unison melody. They paid homage to him with handmade posters. Parents raised their children above their shoulders so that they could see the president.


    With affected emotion, the man let out a sob. He rubbed his congested nose and, in an embarrassed voice, continued his speech.


    "Thank you, thank you very much. Through effort and hard work, I have earned the merit that only commitment can achieve. I took as an example these people who are here celebrating with me. My inspiration was none other than you, the people of Ilu Nla."


    A round of applause filled the atmosphere. It was more than four minutes of uninterrupted applause. Ojwang bit his thick lips. He scanned the crowd with his eyes.


    "When I arrived in Ilu Nla, I felt like many of the children and young people who came to hear me speak. I saw beauty, wealth and prospects for the future. A promising land that I never imagined existed. I pinched myself to make sure it wasn''t a dream, hehehe. Luckily for me, it wasn''t."


    Everyone laughed with the president. His good humor was one of his most popular qualities. It gave them confidence and lightness.


    "When I started my investments in Ilu Nla, I aroused the sympathy of the progressive spirit, the allies of innovation. At the same time, I attracted the curious and even caused envy among some old-fashioned men and women. I don''t deny that, at first, I believed that the problem lay in their values. How wrong I was, the fault lay in the character of these people. And those people were the mediums."


    Ojwang made a number of comments regarding mediums. He demonstrated this with a solid knowledge base of Ilu Nla. This impressed the crowd; he knew more about national history than many of its citizens.


    The president demarcated the origin of Ilu Nla at a time when confederation, led by traditional clans, was becoming unviable. The power struggle between them was great and constant. The seven major clans, direct descendants of the Divine Entities, decided to create a single nation-state. They established a hereditary monarchy.


    But the leaders of the clan systems would not be left out of power. The Sovereign would share his regal functions with a council of ministers called the Circle of Sages, or the High Council of Ilu Nla. The monarch would represent the nation as Head of State, and the sage men would act as Head of Government, controlling the country''s decisions.


    The Sovereign''s power was limited, almost symbolic in relation to his ministers. He was a figure of national legitimacy and the union of his people. The relationship between these bodies of power was never neutral, even among the sage it was much more one of conflict than of alliance for national interests. This was the case for over a thousand years. Ojwang continued:


    "Thanks to this flawed system of power, the people were distanced from decisions. The mediums monopolized power, distorted their traditions and shamed their ancestors."


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    When he said this, the people were shocked. They looked at each other and agreed with what they were hearing. Dishonoring one''s ancestors was the greatest crime one could commit in life, akin to an original sin.


    "The mediums created a caste, full of perks. They corrupted and were corrupted in the process. The Sovereign ruled nothing, remained in the shadows, when in fact he should have been sitting on the throne. However, the royal family itself and its court also succumbed to the lust for power."


    The people began to raise their fists. They approved of Ojwang''s words and backed him up with shouts of support.


    "Surrounded by fear and comfort, they let corruption poison Ilu Nla. As Minister of Science and Technology, I came across the most vexatious corruption. I saw the Circle of Sages and their clans making deals with criminal factions, and the Sovereign embezzling money from the Royal Treasury to pay for his luxuries."


    The population revolted like never before. Ojwang''s voice was like moral fuel. His denunciations had never reached so many, and were as direct as in that speech.


    "Truly I tell you, I am not the knight of hope. But if I had remained passive about this situation, I would be no better than them. Therefore, imbued with a civic duty, I have taken it upon myself to return the stolen future of this nation. I didn''t do it alone, I had the support of brave men and women in our Glorious Revolution. No one will fear tomorrow anymore."


    A sphere-shaped image was holoprojected into the air above the stage. In the foreground was Ojwang, followed by his three generals: Gahiji, Luena and Jitujeusi. Then there were hundreds of thousands of anonymous soldiers who had fought in the so-called revolutionary process. Under the applause of the population, with the most inflammatory speech, he said:


    "We have removed the cancer that was eating away at Ilu Nla. Before, we were divided, now, hand in hand, we will walk towards the future. We will remedy our weaknesses, all of them. Schools will not be indoctrinated, the media will stop politicking, quality of life will be our horizon. There will be no sadness or malice, only relief."


    The drone cameras of the NeTV networks projected the faces of many emotional citizens. They zoomed in to increase the drama of the situation.


    "Unfortunately, the traitors of the homeland do not rest. Two days ago, the Circle of Sages, through its lieutenant in the criminal underworld, the medium Yasini. He induced a popular uprising in Chrome Hill."


    Yasini''s image was holoprojected onto the back of a police car. The Intelligence Service manipulated the images so that his physiognomy became more aggressive. His features acquired an aura of animalistic violence, very different from the introverted teenager he was.


    "The criminal factions, fearful of losing their power to the mediums, launched a violent counter-attack. Many lives were taken in the process. Thanks to our valiant cyber troops, we have extinguished the flames of conflict and discord¡­"


    The people exalted their Armed Forces, and manipulated images of the cybersoldiers were projected. In these images, they helped injured civilians, saved domestic animals from fires, surrendered criminals without firing a single shot. They then revealed the destruction caused by the criminal factions linked to the mediums.


    The interim president saw the mediums as the biggest obstacle to his plans. They were his natural enemies. He emphasized the degraded image of the adepts of the mediumistic arts, and associated crime and urban violence with them.


    It was necessary to break down the symbolic capital of his adversaries, to the point where their mere mention evoked disgust in society. Public opinion had fluctuated a lot in relation to mediums, and the president''s approval rating in internal polls was falling all the time. The mediums had to be painted in enemy colors.


    "During this real terrorist attack, civilians were used as human shields. The expertise of our Armed Forces handled the situation. Never again will this nation fall victim to those who usurped the joy of this people, of my people¡­"


    "LONG LIVE THE CIRCLE OF SAGES!"


    Shots were heard. The shots hit the protective barrier, and its reflective force ricocheted the projectiles. Several people were hit and died. A security team removed the interim president from the stage. Cameras took aim at the sniper. A military drone with a taser hit him. The man fell to the ground epileptic.


    The crowd ran bewildered from one side to the other. Many people were trampled in the confusion and seriously injured. Tactical teams crossed in the opposite direction, they needed to restrain the terrorist. They managed to handcuff him and drag him away. The electroshock knocked him out.


    The NeTV cameras were lost in the attack. Ojwang came out of the attack unscathed. In his armored car, escorted by several agents, he was rushed to a shelter. With the surrounding streets evacuated, it was easy.


    At the facility, he asked to be left alone in a room. Out of the public eye, he lay down on a sofa. He went to the minibar and got ice cubes. He prepared a gin and tonic. General Luena''s plan to set up a fake sniper and carry out an attack in the middle of the speech was considered a masterstroke.


    The subject had been brainwashed by nanomachines. His mind was programmed to carry out a single mission and then kill himself. He would be identified as an extremist sympathizer of the mediums and indoctrinated by the sages. This would further criminalize the image of his opponents.


    Ojwang tried hard, but he couldn''t contain his satisfied smile. He had played his final card in the court of public opinion. He stretched out on the sofa in the shelter. He was in stasis with his success. Everything was going better than planned.

 Song 49: Sacrifice is better than remedy

    Spin Bomb made a point of eating in front of Akachi. His aim was to provoke him. For the next twenty-four hours, he had to fast. He could only drink water in small quantities every hour. His stomach kept rumbling. Fenyang stared dumbfounded at all the evil.


    Fadala was less interested in the young medium''s plight. He asked the sage men to tell him the details of their dispute with Ojwang. Feruzi revealed that the group had gone into self-exile four years ago. They had accused the Minister of Science and Technology of the murder of Yerodin, the Sage of Knowledge, and the theft of his spiritual key.


    "How did you come to that conclusion?"


    "We did a private investigation. Nyatui, Mashal and I were the elders of the Circle of Sages, the other four didn''t listen to us. Yerodin was my disciple and successor in office, shrewder and cleverer than his master. He was the first to investigate the situation around six or five years ago, I can''t remember for sure. He paid the price."


    "Did he leave any record of his investigations?"


    "Yes, in a secret, encrypted place, so that only I could decipher it."


    Feruzi said that, despite his suspicions about Minister Ojwang, he hadn''t imagined that the danger he posed was so great. With the help of the scientist Adisa, son of the Sage of Faith, a specialist in the application of the Ax¨¦ in cybernetic technologies, he developed soldiers who could use the Ax¨¦ as well as mediums.


    Their intentions were very clear to the trio. Despite their denunciations, they were branded alarmists. They were repudiated by their colleagues, by the monarch and by public opinion in Ilu Nla. They earned the nickname of conspiracists and technophobes. The investigations into Yerodin''s murder and the theft of his spiritual key had fallen by the wayside.


    "I know it seemed cowardly of us, but we were in a minority. Ojwang''s influence has become almost omnipresent in the metropolis."


    "I see. If Ojwang already had Adisa as an ally, no offense, Akachi, I don''t understand why he would dare steal the Spiritual Key of Knowledge. It would attract attention to you."


    Nyatui gritted his teeth, furious. When his companions discussed this subject, he got angry. He spat to his left.


    "Yerodin started investigating you, he didn''t count on it. He was preparing something bigger. He had to get ahead of himself and steal the spiritual key from someone who was getting too close to discovering the truth. We believe he wants to steal all the Seven Keys of the Spirit."


    Akachi was listening to everything with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Nyatui''s last words chilled him to the bone. The world of mediums was something new to him. Everything fascinated him, even if he understood very little of what was being said. With reticence in his voice, he asked:


    "If the seven keys are put together in one place, what happens?"


    Fenyang came up behind Akachi, approached his ear, and in a deep voice, said:


    A huge dragon will appear and fulfill your wishes¡­ hahahahaha!


    Wow, Fenyang, was that really a joke?


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    Oh, come on? You''re too tense, bro. It was that H2O diet.


    Don''t get full!


    The trio of former sage men exchanged glances. They wouldn''t say that in front of an outsider. Mashal, drumming his fingers on his knee, looked at Akachi and said:


    "If the seven of them go together¡­ something very bad could happen."


    Fadala asked for more information about the relationship between Yerodin''s clan and the Circle of Sages. He also asked them to clarify who had succeeded the three. Feruzi said that they had refused to choose the succession of the sages, and had left the keys under the supervision of their respective clans. They were to make the selection from among the most capable.


    The clan responsible for the Spiritual Key of Knowledge did not lose its post. Even though the key was one of the prerequisites for remaining in the select group of mediums. On the eve of the coup d''¨¦tat, the Feruzi clan was the first to be attacked because of the danger they posed to Ojwang. The three former sage men heard about it, but didn''t act.


    Akachi rose from his seat. He clenched his fists, the veins popping in his temples. With disappointment in his eyes, he cursed:


    "You mean you knew all this and did nothing to stop it?"


    Nyatui stood up with both hands on his waist and fixed his harsh gaze on the boy.


    "Listen here, little boy, if it hadn''t been for your father and grandfather, this wouldn''t even have started¡­"


    "Don''t talk about my father like that!"


    Feruzi and Mashal put their hands on Nyatui''s shoulders. He turned his back on his interlocutors and walked away angrily. Mashal let out a sigh.


    "Forgive him, he was the most affected among us. His clan considered him a traitor after his self-exile. They even tried to kill him. The only one who decided to follow him was his disciple Yasini. The young man believed that his master was leaving to plot revenge, but that''s not what we wanted at all."


    "That must have been Yasini''s reason for joining the Central Command."


    "It''s likely."


    Everyone was silent and crestfallen. Spin Bomb had felt how heavy the air had become with all the talk. To ease the tension a little and join in the conversation, she asked:


    "If Azekel was the Sage of Faith, Feruzi the former Sage of Knowledge, then which divine aspect did you represent?"


    Mashal came up to the girl and patted her on the shoulder. The young woman was disconcerted by that big hand squeezing her shoulder.


    "Good question, Spin Bombb. Nyatui was the Sage of Force, and I was the Sage of Evolution."


    Fadala made a mental note of everything he had heard so far. He asked Mashal if he had anything to do, he didn''t want to stand around while the others worked. They decided to hunt for something to eat for lunch. Feruzi called Spin Bomb to satisfy his curiosity about Scratched Point Magic.


    Akachi was left with a rumbling stomach and watery eyes. For the rest of the day, hunger gnawed at his stomach. He thought about eating in hiding several times. Every time he tried to eat something, no matter how small, someone would come along and thwart his plans.


    In a moment of distraction, he entered Nyatui. He went straight to Fadala''s backpack and pulled out a cereal bar. He took it with greedy eyes. Before he could take the first bite, his Ori Guardian appeared and said:


    "Hands up, medium! Are you sure you''re going to do this, Akachi?"


    "Wow, Fenyang! What a fright you''ve given me. I can''t stand it any longer, I want something to eat. My legs are shaking with hunger."


    "Don''t be dramatic, bro. I haven''t eaten for years, and I don''t even miss it."


    "Boy, you''re a spirit too, aren''t you? You shouldn''t be hungry or thirsty or sleepy or hot or cold. You''re fine. But I''m not a spirit!"


    "Listen, bro. Calm down, okay! Don''t waver now. Your enemies are very powerful. If you don''t do this unloading session, you''ll never really control your Ax¨¦ power. You''ll stay in easy mode and you''ll never beat the game. Better to do what these sage men say."


    Akachi felt ashamed. He put the cereal bar in Fadala''s backpack and zipped it up. He got up and left the hut. Outside, the group was eating a wild boar roast. The red, steaming meat scented the air. The aroma of the natural spice in the wild, succulent meat knocked Adisa''s son to the ground.


    Fenyang bent over him and, grimacing, said to his medium:


    It would be better if you didn''t watch this scene until you get inside the barrier.


    Arh! You''re right.

 Song 50: The Divine Plan

    After the twenty-four hours fast, Akachi began the Ax¨¦ discharge ritual. Feruzi inscribed zimbas all over the body of Adisa''s son. A set of symbols that emphasized circles, semicircles, spirals, dots and discontinuous lines. He created a circle of white powder on the ground. Around the circle were various characteristic inscriptions.


    The young medium lay down with his back to the ground. His arms and legs were spread. Fadala and Spin Bomb watched in silence. They felt a little worried about the ritual. The Discharge Session could drain all her Ax¨¦ and leave her body as weak as it had been in childhood.


    After finishing signing the crossed-out dots, Feruzi summoned Selassi¨¦. The three spirits appeared floating above Akachi. The boy was surprised by the age of these spirits.


    "You have three Ori Guardians?"


    "Oh, yes, that''s Ekon, Iregi and Suluhu. They are my ancestors, triplets who died as infants. They''re quarrelsome and hard-headed, but experts in Scratched Point Magic¡­"


    The three of them surrounded Feruzi, looking irritated by these descriptions. The sage sighed. Iregi, his cheeks reddening, shouted harshly:


    "Is that how you describe us to people? I should let you down, you know."


    "Iregi, stop shouting. You''re scaring the boy."


    "Fuck you, Suluhu, you always protect that old man!"


    Ekon approached Feruzi, looked him in the eye and said seriously:


    "Come on, Feruzi, don''t waste time with Iregi. He''s hot-tempered by nature. Let''s start the ritual, I can feel the suffering in Akachi''s body and mind."


    The former sage looked at the other spirits and spoke as if giving an order to his children.


    "Selassi¨¦, are you ready?"


    "Yes, we can begin."


    "I was born ready, crown!"


    "If they are, so am I."


    ''"The trinity is one and perfect, complementary in its vastness. I serve three wise infants, who fill my days with knowledge and fortune. Ekon, Iregi and Suluhu, who investigate everything with their curiosity, give me your knowledge. Firm spirits."


    The trio of Ori Guardians merged inside Feruzi''s body. He rolled up the sleeves of his tunic, revealing milky skin with purple veins. At that moment, Akachi realized that he was an albino man.


    The circle and the scratched points began to emit a whitish glow. Akachi''s body squirmed on the ground. His eyes rolled back in their sockets. Spin Bomb tried to run towards him, but Mashal caught her by the arm. She shook her head in the negative. She shouldn''t interfere, no one could.


    A massive energy dome rose from the ground and transformed into a translucent dome. The Ax¨¦ spiraled centrifugally over its surface. Inside, Akachi would be protected. An additional double barrier of protection had been added. Anyone trying to break through or invade it would find it twice as difficult to access.


    Inside the Ax¨¦ Discharge Barrier, the medium fell into a daze. His senses gradually ceased. It was as if he had had a near-death experience. He felt as if his spirit had been taken out of his body. He saw himself floating in the air, saw his own body lying on the ground.


    His friends were around the barrier and a military helicopter was approaching. He tried to scream, to alert those below, but he couldn''t. A powerful and unknown force dragged him down. He resisted as long as he could, but was taken to another dimension. This place was in the world outside this world, where the fourteen Entities, the divinized ancestors, reigned sublime.


    Akachi descended from the sky and landed safely on the ground. He was in a savannah, the greenest he had ever seen. The trees with their leafy tops and full of flowers exuded a scent like no other. Right next to it was a river. The current made a percussive sound of pebbles. The boy approached the water and saw his face. He fell backwards onto the ground.


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    "What''s that?"


    Akachi saw no human features, but a cluster of pulsating energy. It was an Ax¨¦ body. He heard a metallic crackling sound on the floor. He turned around and saw two powerful silhouettes. They were a middle-aged man and a tall, well-proportioned woman.


    The man was holding an opaxor?, a silver staff. Its shaft was embedded in three circles covered in strings of gray pearls and white gold ornaments. His crown was mixed with a white turban and his face was covered with a net of silver threads.


    Around her neck were several white beaded necklaces. Two large bracelets covered his forearms. Her tunic was cut across her abdomen, and a large skirt with several layers of white ruffles with lead details completed her attire. He had the peaceful look of someone who had witnessed many eras and had lived through them.


    The woman next to him was wearing a blood-red dress. In one hand she held an eruker¨º, a metal scepter with a wad of straight hair on the end. At his waist was a sheathed alpenstock with a half-moon guard and a gold pommel. On his head, he wore a golden pentagon-shaped crown lined with ruby silk, a ruby embedded in the middle of the crown.


    Her bust was covered in golden-yellow silk, and a high-waisted dress in a ruby color completed her outfit. Heavy gold bracelets and rings showed off her wealth and refinement. Her face was covered by a veil of reddish beads, leaving her plump lips exposed. Her skin exuded a delicious freshness. She was haughty, with a beauty unattainable by any mortal woman.


    The medium was paralyzed by these presences. He stood up and thought about retreating. There was nowhere to go, this was the domain of the Entities, the closest servants of Fante Obataiye. The old man slammed his staff into the ground a second time, and in a firm voice, ordered:


    "Show respect to your elders, my son. You have entered the gates of Aruanda."


    Unconsciously, Akachi knelt before the pair and said in an embarrassed voice:


    "Bless my elders, my lord and lady."


    The two Entities looked at each other and gave a slight smile. The woman gestured for him to stand up.


    "That''s better. Stand up."


    "I don''t know how I ended up here, I apologize if I ended up trespassing. I was dragged here by some invisible force."


    The Entity bent over the staff. It fixed its eyes on Akachi, so that the boy''s blood ran cold.


    "You didn''t break in, you''re not competent. In fact, you were invited in. I understand your inability to understand the Divine Plan, what many religions and cults in the world call Heaven or Paradise. The dimension of Divine Power emanating from the Greatest Creator of existence. That is a privilege that few have seen."


    Akachi felt embarrassed by his own ignorance. He scanned the horizon. Everything had an ethereal tone, a dreamlike aura that filled everything. It was frightening and invigorating at the same time.


    "If I''ve been brought here, it''s because you have a good reason."


    The woman approached him. She pointed to the Spiritual Key that, even in this world, was connected to his chest.


    "You are destined to sing the Last Song of the Ancestors when the Seven Keys of the Spirit gather at Ir?ko''s feet. A glorious and heavy burden for a young man likes you. The moment your father linked your destiny to that of this spiritual key, he ended up putting you on the wheel of destinies."


    "No, ma''am. It''s a mistake. I don''t know that song. That key, uh¡­ it was an accident. I¡­ I don''t know how to answer. I''m not the chosen one, I''m just an ordinary young man who got caught up in this mess. I''m not a hero or anything¡­"


    The man waved his staff as if the young medium had blasphemed. With a voice of authority, he declared to Akachi:


    "Nobody said you were predestined to anything. There''s no such thing. Being destined doesn''t mean that everything is written and you''ll follow a straight line to it. You have choices. They decide your path. Only those who don''t make their own choices are predestined, led by the lines of random destinies."


    "I don''t know if I can do that. Until recently I was a paralyzed boy in a hospital bed. A person like that can''t save anyone¡­ maybe not even themselves."


    The woman drew her sword from her waist and pointed it at the boy''s neck. He stepped back with a bead of sweat dripping from his forehead.


    "Such words would never come from someone who shares our blood. If starring in your life is so painful for you, I can put an end to that suffering now."


    "I¡­ ah, I don''t know if I can, ma''am. I''m weak, and I know little about the mediumistic arts. Someone else should do it. Why don''t you act, you and you are powerful Entities¡­"


    The male Entity came up to his companion and, with his fingertips, lowered the gun. He looked at the horizon and said:


    "Akachi, my son. You mediums always look back for the strength of those who came before you, and that is right. But you forget that you are ancestors in the present time. In the future, your children and grandchildren, your descendants will look to you for strength and inspiration. Which ancestor do you want to be now? What symbol do you want to bequeath to future generations, my son?"


    The woman sheathed her sword. With a kinder voice this time, she declared:


    "You are the bearer of the Spiritual Key of Faith, do you know what that word faith means, my son?"


    "Believing in what you can''t see? I think so."


    "Yes, that''s the limited understanding of faith, pure belief. Faith is something bigger, it''s one of the aspects of Fante Obataiye. Faith is doing the possible when everything seems impossible, it''s an action. If your father didn''t have faith, he would never have allowed you to walk. Have faith in your destiny, Akachi. Take action, make your choices. Become an ancestor who inspires faith in people."


    The female Entity placed both her hands on his face. His companion placed his left hand on the boy''s shoulder. Akachi felt an even greater strength run through his body. His spirit was as invigorated as ever. He smiled, the frenzy of energy was uncontainable. Every spiritual particle in his body was vibrating with power.


    "With your blessing, I will do as you ask."


    "We bless you in the name of Fante Obataiye, the Greatest Creator."


    The female Entity blew lightly into his eyes. Akachi saw nothing more after that. Seconds passed without him feeling anything. When he opened his eyes, he saw a real battlefield. There were corpses all around the barrier. He stood up in astonishment.


    "What happened here?"

 Song 51: Savage Unity

    Four soldiers were standing at the firing range. They weren''t wearing their usual uniforms. They were off duty. They had returned from a dangerous mission abroad to secure Ilu Nla''s interests in southern Africa. They were relaxing with a healthy game of target practice.


    The leader of the quartet was codenamed Ngare. He was tall, slim and wore long dreadlocks tied with a dark ribbon. He had suggested the competition and the penalty for the loser.


    "Whoever makes the lowest score pays for the rounds at the bar."


    He was the first to fire. He grabbed a pistol and, with quick movements, shattered his target with several shots to the head and chest. However, his eagerness made him miss a few.


    "Damn!"


    His subordinates took advantage of the situation to laugh at him, perhaps it was the only chance they had. The only woman in the group put out her hand to take the gun and sneered:


    "You''re very hot-tempered, boss."


    "Don''t get carried away, girl."


    The second candidate was the military woman codenamed Popo. She was a short woman by army standards. Her hair was dark and straight, shaved at the temples. Her mouth was large with thin lips. Her dark skin and the red bindi on her forehead gave away her Seychellois origins. She reloaded the gun, aimed for a few seconds and unloaded the comb. Her performance was better than Ngare''s.


    "That''s how it''s done!"


    "Vain as she is¡­"


    The third contestant was a burly man of medium height. His codename was Chandu. With a rotund appearance, he moved with a languor that irritated the others. He made up for this with his outgoing manner. He had short hair, a fat face and expressive eyes, which gave him a friendly appearance.


    He pointed the pistol at the target with a whole scene that made his colleagues nervous.


    "Go on! Just pull the trigger, Chandu."


    "Haste is the enemy of perfection, boss."


    Despite all the pressure he received, he performed satisfactorily. With an exultant countenance, he handed over the pistol to the last member.


    "Don''t soften me up, Popo. Here, Kanjuchi."


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    "Thanks, I''ll try."


    The soldier wore an insectoid-looking mask carved from wood with high reliefs. He was skinny, with long, straight hair tied back with a green bow, and had an androgynous appearance. His voice emitted a squeaky, high-pitched echo, as if he were chewing on a beetle. He clumsily picked up the pistol and fired.


    He missed half the shots. He stood firm on the outside, but inside he was in tears. He would have a big loss in Credibits. He knew how much his comrades drank. It seemed that their thirsty throats were bottomless wells. He didn''t even drink, nor did he know why he had agreed to take part. Chandu approached him, grabbed him around the waist and said:


    "Don''t pretend like that, my friend. Think of it as an act of charity towards your army colleagues."


    "Yeah, it''ll quench our thirst for alcohol."


    Everyone laughed at Popo''s joke, except the despondent Kanjuchi. He hated spending money for nothing.


    Suddenly, the door to the shooting range opened. The newcomer, arms folded behind his back, held his chin high. In his modular cybernetic armor, gold with emerald details, he faced the soldiers inside the room.


    "Attention, Savage Unit!"


    The quartet stood at attention and saluted their superior. Ngare stood at attention and spoke to his commander:


    "Permission to rest, General Gahiji."


    "Permission granted."


    The quartet left their positions and imitated the newcomer by resting their hands behind their backs, legs apart. The general''s eyes crossed with each of the soldiers. He looked at the bullet-riddled targets.


    "Well done! Even when your off duty, you keep training. Congratulations!"


    Chandu bit his lip to keep from laughing. Popo elbowed him in the stomach to get him back on his feet. He was in front of his commander.


    "You''ve had less than two days off. The high command of the Armed Forces demands that my Phalangeta take to the field once again."


    Ngare looked at his subordinates. They felt excited, it wasn''t going to be just any mission.


    "By order of the Supreme Commander of our Armed Forces, the President of the Republic Ojwang, you will carry out the mission of eliminating the Masters of Suspicion."


    "At last these criminals have been tracked down, General Gahiji. It will be an honor to take out these traitors to the homeland."


    Gahiji approached Ngare. He fixed his gaze on him and said carefully:


    "Don''t overestimate the capacity of our enemies, Colonel Ngare. I recognize more than anyone your qualities as a soldier, I even drafted you into my Phalangeta. But don''t make the mistake of General Jitujeusi."


    "With all due respect, General Gahiji, General Jitujeusi is a poisonous snake who envies you. He is paranoid and opportunistic. You magnify our Armed Forces, Jitujeusi only embarrasses us."


    "Although I agree with you in kind, number and degree, avoid thinking out loud, Colonel Ngare. In the army, the walls have eyes and ears¡­ Be ready. You''ll be boarding a helicopter in thirty minutes."


    "Will you go with us?"


    "Four phalangets against three dying ex-sages is already disproportionate, imagine if I went with you? I trust the Wild Unit completely. I wish you success in your mission. The coordinates will be sent in your mission report en route. You are dismissed."


    In less than thirty minutes, the quartet was already in the hangar. The one who took the longest was Chandu. Unlike the other Phalangets, the Savage Unit didn''t wear cybernetic armor or military exoskeletons. Their green and yellow suits were made of multifunctional technological fibers.


    In the hangar, a Eurocopter EC 725 Super Cougar aircraft was ready and fueled. Gahiji was there and greeted his subordinates for the last time. The helicopter door closed. It was brought out of the hangar. The aircraft began to blow away wind and dust with its sharp propellers. It reached cruising height and flew towards the Ilu Nla waterfalls.

 Song 52: Unwanted visit

    Around the Discharge Barrier, the former sages, Fadala and Spin Bomb were watching Ax¨¦ inside the dome. The girl felt a hammering in her chest as she observed the young medium in this situation. The zimbas inscribed on his body and on his supporting exoskeleton gave off a whitish glow.


    Feruzi approached her and lit his pipe. He blew rings of gray smoke into the air and said:


    "You''re worried, aren''t you? Don''t worry, I don''t think the treatment is doing you any harm."


    "That kid gets on my nerves, but I want him to be all right. He seems to have suffered a lot before we met in Chrome Hill."


    "Let''s help him¡­"


    Fadala and Nyatui stepped forward. They gestured for the others to be quiet.


    "Listen."


    Tchutchutchu¡­ was the high-pitched noise of the propellers in the atmosphere. The helicopter soared over the waterfall, flying in circles around the perimeter. The force of the wind tore down the thatched roofs of the huts, kicked up dust from between the stones. The aircraft landed in front of the Spin Bomb group.


    Ngare, Kanjuchi and Popo descended from the back of the helicopter. Ngare gave orders for the pilot to take off, and return some thirty minutes later.


    "Are you sure, Colonel Ngare? We can provide air support. There are unidentified people in the area."


    "Obey my orders, pilot. We have everything under control, we''re General Gahiji''s Wilderness Unit. We''ve never failed a mission.


    "Roger that, sir. Over, out."


    The helicopter flew away. Nyatui looked at Mashal. The former sage man said through his teeth:


    "You should have destroyed the helicopter; you can return with reinforcements."


    "He''s gone, Nyatui, one problem at a time."


    Ngare smoothed down his dreadlocks. Popo twisted his neck and began to stretch. Kanjuchi was the most attentive of all, he wouldn''t underestimate three ex-sages. The presence of the Discharge Barrier caught his attention.


    "Colonel Ngare, there''s a barrier formed by Ax¨¦. They must be performing some kind of purification ritual, what they call an unloading."


    "Even for that kind of ritual, the amount of Ax¨¦ particles emitted is too great for an ordinary person. Unless¡­ there''s a sage in there."


    Nyatui looked at Fadala. They both nodded. The medium ordered his companions:


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    "Cross defense formation. Get in the formation too, girl. You''ll be our secret weapon!"


    Working hard, Spin Bomb placed herself between the barrier and Nyatui. Fadala was on the right, Mashal behind and Feruzi on the left. Their enemies went into a ''V'' formation, with Ngare as the spearhead.


    Nyatui looked around. He and the other ex-sages were being targeted by the military. They had no way of predicting the arrival of Fadala, Spin Bomb and Akachi. The old sage was experienced enough to know that they wouldn''t just bring three fighters, there would have to be another.


    ¡°.repins a s''eh ebyaM .gnidih nam a s''ereht ,nepo seye ruoy peeK¡±


    Feruzi recalled the scene of his opponents'' arrival. He hadn''t seen any other soldiers jump out of the helicopter. He didn''t believe that anyone had climbed the wall. For Colonel Ngare to give up air support, there must have been a fourth man hiding. The hard part was knowing where he was.


    ¡°.aera eht fo peews ¨¦xA na od ,lahsaM .iutayN ,egalfuomac fo dnik emos gnisu eb dluoc eH¡±


    Ngare pointed at Nyatui with his index finger. In a provocative tone, he shouted:


    "You''re so scared you''ve lost your mind, hohohoho. I came here expecting a challenge, and I find a bunch of old geezers."


    Feruzi and Nyatui looked at each other and laughed loudly.


    ¡°.izureF ,toidi na si yug sihT¡±


    ¡°.secroF demrA eht ot sgnoleb ti yhw s''that¡±


    Veins popped out of the colonel''s temples. He felt provoked by his enemies. Kanjuchi had noticed that the mediums spoke in code, even if he couldn''t decipher it. He tried to alert his superior.


    "Sir, they''re speaking in¡­"


    "Shut up! Kill those vermin."


    The trio advanced towards the mediums. Mashal was able to identify the location of the hidden soldier by reading the flow of Ax¨¦ in the environment.


    ?


    ? ? ?


    ?


    ?


    ¡ø


    ¡ø ¡ø


    ?


    ¡ø


    ¡°.thgir s''aladaF ot gnidih dratsab taht pu wolb ,bmoB nipS¡±


    The girl dropped her chin. She hadn''t understood the mediums'' ruse until then.


    "What? Speak my language, okay?"


    ¡°.lahsaM ,em ot ti evaeL¡±


    Fadala had understood that an execution team wouldn''t just send three soldiers. There was always a hidden scout as a guarantee. With extreme speed, the assassin moved towards his target and emerged on top of a rock on the other bank of the river. He pointed his gun at the ground and threatened:


    "Aren''t you going to show up for the party, buddy? Don''t reject our hospitality."


    The soldier deactivated his camouflage, it was Chandu. He was armed with an anti-material rifle with a telescopic sight. Fadala was astonished to see a bloated man lying on the rock. Beads of sweat ran down his flushed face. Most impressive of all was that the camouflage came from his skin, not his clothing or equipment. His dermis became fatty and purplish.


    "Who would have thought that mediums are also intelligent¡­"


    "I appreciate the compliment, but I''m not a medium."


    Bang-bang, Fadala fired his gun. In self-defense, Chandu put his arms in front of his face. His limbs were severed. The soldier''s cheeks inflated to the point of turning red, his eyes rolled back in their sockets.


    "It hurts, doesn''t it?"


    The answer came in a jet of dark ink, expelled by Chandu. Fadala''s glasses were hit by the ink and he couldn''t see anything for a few moments. His face and the entire top of his suit were soaked. He removed his glasses from his face and looked down at his dyed suit. He loosened his tie and took it off. He twisted it and wrapped it around his right hand.


    He pulled out his other pistol. He gritted his teeth, furious. Chandu had disappeared, but the drops of his blood showed where he had fled to.


    "I''m going to eat octopus paella, my favorite dish."

 Song 53: Too human

    "Popo, kill the ''Rear Lord'', Kanjuchi, get the albino".


    "Leave it to me!"


    The Phalangeta went on the attack. Two purple bat wings emerged from Popo''s back. His face took on a pointed snout. It flew over everyone and attacked Mashal, who was behind the dome. Kanjuchi took advantage of the general distraction and went after Feruzi. The two exchanged blows.


    Ngare went towards Nyatui. The colonel realized that he was the most combative of his opponents. With the two gauntlets he was carrying, he activated his electrified claws in mid-run. In one leap, he fell on his opponent, digging his claws into his former opponent.


    In a swift counter-attack, Nyatui shaped his Ax¨¦ into a spear. He placed it horizontally to defend himself against his opponent. The soldier increased the pressure on his claws to break through his opponent''s defense. Nyatui placed one knee on the ground. The rays emitted by the sharp claws were already coming close to his face. He growled, furious.


    "That''s it?"


    "You can''t even stand, Grandpa. If you don''t resist, I promise to finish this quickly."


    The provocation infuriated Nyatui even more. Pushing forward, he made Ngare step back. The colonel slid backwards. In that short space of time, the soldier had undergone a subtle metamorphosis. His body had taken on feline features, especially his face. His eyes had cheetah irises. His upper canines became apparent.


    "What kind of freaks are you?"


    "We''re the Savage Unit, General Gahiji''s Phalangeta. Our DNA has been edited with genomes from animal species to improve our combat abilities."


    Nyatui made a disgusted face. His Guardian Ori came floating up behind him with a spear in hand.


    "People like you shouldn''t exist¡­"


    "Why not? Human beings have always invested in biohacking devices and techniques, DNA editing is just another one. When someone loses a leg, they use a prosthesis. When you go blind, you wear glasses."


    Ngare pointed his index finger in Nyatui''s direction, and with his eyes bulging, snarled at his opponent:


    "It''s people like you who shouldn''t exist, you damned medium. You hold back the development of science with your limiting beliefs."


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    "I''m not against science, my boy. I''m against the loss of humanity that these times bring. It''s this vanity of playing God that creates misfortune in the world."


    "No matter what you think, one day we''ll all be transhuman."


    The Ori Guardian waved her spear above her head like a propeller and pointed it in the direction of her opponent.


    "Enough philosophy, Nyatui. Kill that bastard!"


    "I hope this idiot is worth the effort¡­ Queen Dalji who wields the army-destroying spear. Lady of war who has extended her dominion over the four cardinal points. Show your mastery to those who have not witnessed your greatness! Firm your spirit."


    "Tsk¡­ you could incorporate a legion of spirits, and it wouldn''t do any good¡­"


    Before Ngare could finish his sentence, Nyatui appeared behind him, about to deliver a horizontal blow that would sever his head.


    "Do you want to pay to see?"


    The spear tore through the air, but didn''t hit the soldier, who ducked just in time. The movement made the former savior''s back vulnerable for a few seconds. Ngare drove his claws into his opponent''s ribs, and with the electrocution of the blades, he increased the damage. Nyatui spat blood.


    You stupid medium, stop playing with your opponent.


    Mrs. Dalji, please don''t pry. I haven''t had this much fun in a long time.


    If your fun is defeat, get me out of your loser''s body.


    I just wanted to test my enemy''s power. His will is very weak. He could wipe me out in a single blow, I even made it easy for him.


    "I don''t know what goes on in you mediums'' heads. You embody some bitch and you go around thinking you''re the best."


    "What did you say? Measuring Value: Evaluation¡­ Negation of Value!"


    Nyatui dropped his right hand from his spear and grabbed his opponent''s forearm. The force was such that he managed to remove the claws from his ribs. The wound caused by Ngare began to regenerate. Quickly, the former savior''s ribs didn''t have a single mark on them.


    "How did you manage to regenerate so quickly? You don''t seem to be the kind of warrior who has regeneration techniques."


    "I can deny any injury you''ve done to me. I was once a sage, you idiot colonel. Don''t underestimate me."


    "NO!"


    Nyatui kept Ngare''s forearm trapped in his bare hand. With the other, he prepared a stock. He aimed the blow at the middle of the colonel''s face. The spear pierced the air like lightning, but missed its target. The soldier contorted his body in a supernatural way and managed to escape the fatal blow.


    The medium started spinning at high speed and threw his opponent into a rock wall. Before colliding, Ngare reversed his position and fell with his claws embedded in the rock. He watched Nyatui as he made movements with the spear. He invited him to make the next move.


    Does he have accelerated regeneration like us phalangites? No, wait. He didn''t just touch me to ward off my claws, he needed physical contact for Of¨® to work. So if I gave him a critical hit¡­


    "Kitty, kitty, pspsps¡­ are you coming, or am I going?"


    At high speed, Nyatui set off towards his enemy. Ngare came down from the rock, even faster than the medium. He tried to drive one of his claws into the ex-sage''s neck. His skill with the spear was the greatest in his clan. He didn''t make much of an effort to strike back using the handle.


    Ngare dodged. He leapt into the air and spun around with his arms open. With consecutive stock blows, Nyatui countered all the attacks. Using his speed, the colonel appeared behind his opponent. He leapt with a pair of claws at the old medium''s back.

 Song 54: Air threat

    Popo flew over the Ax¨¦ dome that covered Akachi. With her electromagnetic sonar, she identified the power of a spiritual key. She charged at Mashal and struck him. The former sage was thrown a distance. With a slight flutter of her wings, she hovered in the air. Crossing her arms, in a tone of mockery, she ironized:


    "Wow, Grandpa, you fell like a rotten jackfruit. I expected more from an ex-sage."


    Mashal rose from the ground. A trickle of blood ran down the corner of his mouth. His woolly white beard took on a red tinge.


    "Young people always make fun of their elders. I should teach you a lesson, young lady."


    "You have nothing to teach me, Grandpa."


    Popo ascended into the clouds. He pulled out two submachine guns and fell on Mashal. He fired several shots at the former sage. The old medium tapped the ground to dodge the bullets. His opponent considered his performance pathetic. He prepared for a second attack.


    "Ewansiha! Isn''t it about time you came over here and gave me a hand?"


    Popo came down once again with his attack, Mashal threw himself into the river to avoid the projectiles. The soldier flew away. The medium put his head out. He looked in all directions, but didn''t see his Ori Guardian. He became angry and felt that he should have chosen his spiritual companion better.


    "Ewansiha, come and help me once in a while..."


    A brown-skinned man appeared floating above him. He was dressed like an English aristocrat from the Victorian era, with a top hat and gold brush. He wore a cane with an amber orb on the pommel. His hair was straight but unkempt. His long beard was spiky like dry straw.


    He had a friendly face, vivid eyes, but surrounded by huge dark circles. He was lying in the air, his head supported by one hand. His top hat was about to fall off his head. A trickle of drool ran from the corner of his mouth. He had a languor that irritated Mashal deeply. He yawned every five minutes.


    "By Fante Obataiye, man, wake up to spit!"


    "Uooooh... is it time for five o''clock tea yet?"


    "No, but it''s time you woke up to life. For someone who''s lived in London, you''ve learned nothing about punctuality."


    "I went there to graduate from Oxford, not to be a clockmaker... wooooh."


    "Stop yawning, you''re embarrassing me! We''re in trouble, Ewansiha. Adisa''s son is in that Discharge Barrier. A Phalangeta is here, if we don''t take care of them, they''ll take another Spiritual Key."


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    "What an imbroglio, my friend Mashal. It''s a pity we didn''t prepare for such an undertaking, I''ll have to improvise."


    "So be it! Ewansiha, the observer of plenitude. He who sought knowledge for the realization of Evolution, may your power shake the structures of the earth on which I stand. Make your enemy know the truth. Firm Spirit.


    After embodying his Ori Guardian, Mashal rested one knee on the ground. He placed both hands flat on the ground and spread his Ax¨¦. He attracted the Ax¨¦ particles from the environment and used them to alter the molecular structures of the rocks.


    "Infrastructure Revolution!"


    Little by little, the rocks came together and took on an amorphous humanoid shape. Eventually, the ten dolls became an exact copy of Mashal. Each one emitting an Ax¨¦ vibration similar to the original. The medium joined them, and they ran towards Popo, who was taking off for another artillery run.


    The eleven Mashal ran towards the enemy. They formed a horizontal attack line, shuffling their places along the way. It was a strategy to confuse their opponent. Popo reflected on the situation. He had memorized where everyone was. With her electromagnetic sonar, she deduced that the real Mashal was the one with the highest Ax¨¦ vibration. He was on the left, in third position.


    He fired a burst of shots at him. However, the original wasn''t hit. The clone crumbled into a pile of bullet-riddled stones. The remaining ten declared Of¨® at the same time:


    "Ax¨¦ plus-value."


    All the Mashal put their hands on the ground. The Ax¨¦ deposited in the shattered clone dispersed into the ground and was absorbed by the others. Their vibration doubled in size. They formed a protective circle, one of them standing in the middle as bait. Popo analyzed it with his sonar; the protected Mashal had the highest vibration of the ten.


    "That trap won''t work, old man. Better give up while you''re ahead."


    He uses the soil to propagate his Ax¨¦, and to attract the Ax¨¦ of nature. A typical PACR. From there he models his Ax¨¦, no! He restructures matter to generate clones. They emit the same vibration as a person, and have the same appearance and mobility as the original. Ingenious, but I''m going to sabotage his strategy...


    Popo flew around and fired shots at the protective circle. However, the ammunition ran out before he could hit anyone. The clones formed a human pyramid. The real Mashal jumped on top and gained momentum to reach his opponent. She tried to run away, but having someone hanging on her legs caused her to become overweight, and she collapsed.


    Near the ground, Mashal let go of Popo''s heels and let her fall to the stony ground on her own. The clones supported the medium''s fall. The soldier wasn''t as lucky. She smashed into the stones. One of her wings was fractured and she struggled in constant spasms. The phalangeal limb rose from the ground. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand.


    "Too bad, your flight plan was canceled, girl."


    "Hahaha, very funny, old man. I get your fake Of¨®."


    Woooh... Mashal, looks like we''ve been caught red-handed!


    Stop yawning, you lazy Ori Guardian. I need your power right now.


    You should have used Superstructure Projection, then you''d have more...


    "You created ten clones using a combination of Propagation and Attraction. Propagators aren''t very good at controlling Ax¨¦, so they''re bad at modeling. They prefer to alter the structure of matter within their reach, which is why they need to put their hands in the ground every time they make an Of¨®. I got that right, didn''t I?"


    "For someone who isn''t a medium, you seem to be quite capable."


    "I believe that for each clone of yours, you should distribute a tenth of your Ax¨¦ to each one. This increases your numerical strength, but you lose out on total strength."


    Popo grabbed his broken wing and tore it off with his bare hand. Blood oozed from the wound. Mashal and his clones were horrified; he made no sign of pain.


    "However, when you lose a clone, the Ax¨¦ returns to you and the rest of the clones, but at twice the rate. You''re just buying time."


    The military woman concentrated her Ax¨¦ in her hands and formed huge semi-transparent claws. She applied repulsive force to increase her cutting power. In one swift movement, she leapt towards Mashal.

 Song 55: She wants my blood!

    Mashal and his nine clones didn''t wait for the enemy to attack. They set off in the direction of Popo. However, the numerical advantage didn''t seem to be enough. The military woman managed to counterattack. With little effort, she knocked down one clone with a flick of her wing. The second was kicked in the stomach. Two others tried to grab her arms.


    The immobilization tactic didn''t work. She concentrated her Ax¨¦ on her arms. Her veins popped, her muscles stiffened like steel. With one swift movement, she slammed the Mashal against each other. They both crumbled into small rocks in the air. The Ax¨¦ scattered and went to meet the others.


    Popo began another violent attack on his opponent. As a good propagator, Mashal was able to generate small shields around him. Because Concentration is his Tertiary Function, these shields tended to break down quickly. They served more to delay and distract the enemy than to protect himself. Her enemy didn''t fail to notice her defensive weakness.


    "Your Of¨® is a waste of time, old man. You burn Ax¨¦ for nothing to boost your numbers. Your clones are weak, they have a lower vibration than yours. They''re not even good for a hobby."


    "Look, miss, don''t try to teach your elders. Look at my beard!"


    "So what? It''s dirty."


    Popo severed the head of another Mashal clone. Another tried to elbow her in the back, but she used the momentum of a single wing and jumped. She looped around and landed on her attacker''s head. She locked her legs around its neck and twisted its head off. The body fell epileptically to the ground until it crumpled.


    She didn''t give Mashal a break to catch his breath. She rolled across the floor, placed her hands on the ground, and with her legs in the air, spun them like a propeller. His legs were imbued with Repulsion fields. The clones retreated, unable to defend themselves. This forced the real medium to act. He slammed his palms on the ground and shouted:


    "Moving Fate."


    "There you are!"


    The phalangite flexed his arms to propel himself forward. It brought its legs together. It rotated its arms. It flew towards Mashal like a bolt. It kept the repulsive field concentrated on its legs. The rest of the clones threw themselves in front of the original to protect him. Despite this, the master of suspicion was hit in the shoulder.


    The old medium fell a distance away. The blow with a concentrated repulsive field melted his skin and tore his muscles apart. The bones of his shoulder were shattered. The wound throbbed and squirted blood. He tried to stop the bleeding with his other hand. His fingers turned red.


    Popo walked up to him. The soles of her boots were dripping with blood. She stepped on Mashal''s stomach. The medium spat blood and grunted in pain. The phalangite repeated the treatment twice more. The old medium felt his head bang like a gong. An ordinary person would have fainted by now. Despite the excruciating color, he still had the strength to speak.


    "You''re not a medium, I can tell. I knew a lot about the properties and functions of Ax¨¦. I don''t even feel its vibration, cof-cof."


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    "I can make use of all that. My vibration doesn''t come from my Inner Portal, but from the Ax¨¦-Core deposited in my body. With it, I can break the law of functions..."


    Mashal''s eyes widened. The Ax¨¦-Core was something he couldn''t fully understand. He only knew that it served as a kind of Ax¨¦ generator. When he lived in Ilu Nla, he hadn''t cared about all that technological advancement, he''d just repudiated it.


    "... I can use and combine two properties such as Attraction and Repulsion at the same time, without suffering any side effects. I''m even able to reverse my Mediumistic Profile during the fight."


    "You''re a freak, girl."


    "You mediums are obsolete. You should have been sent to the dustbin of history a long time ago."


    "That''s the problem with young people today. They consider themselves superior with all their technology, and forget that some of this knowledge only exists thanks to the knowledge their ancestors accumulated."


    He grabbed Popo''s ankle, so hard that it scared her. The military officer felt as if an industrial press was crushing him. She tried to pull her leg away, but couldn''t. All the wounds on Mashal''s body had healed. Ax¨¦ particles began to spread around his body, like a silver aura.


    "Superstructure Projection."


    "How did you..."


    In one leap, Mashal stood up. He lifted Popo''s leg even higher, knocking her off balance. With all his invigorated strength, using only one hand, the medium held her in the air. Then he slammed her against the floor as if she were a sack of cement. He lifted her into the air and slammed her down a second time. He repeated this until he felt her bones crack. Finally, he threw her into a nearby boulder.


    The soldier broke the boulder in half. She collapsed on the ground. She stuck two fingers in her mouth, and four teeth from the bottom of her mouth fell out as they touched the ground. Popo let out a high-pitched scream. As he tried to get up, his ribs cracked like glass. He fell to the ground and crawled on all fours.


    Dear Mashal, finish this soon so I can take a nap... wooooh.


    How can an Ori Guardian be so lazy?


    Sleep preserves the unity of the spirit.


    A lazy person even invents metaphysical excuses for doing nothing.


    The soldier didn''t get very far. She was kicked in the stomach. She was thrown to the other side of the river. She lay on her stomach, out of breath. The air kept choking in her throat. Mashal came up, grabbed her by the throat and punched her several times in the stomach. She threw up everything she had eaten that week. To finish, he gave her a kick that threw her a long way.


    "Damned old man! I don''t know how you managed to regenerate so quickly. It was almost dead, and now it seems to be stronger than before."


    "You said I created clones for nothing, I know you''re smart enough to know better."


    That''s right, he may have attracted Ax¨¦ from the environment around him... no, wait! He shared his Ax¨¦ with the clones who received part of the Ax¨¦ present in nature. If each destroyed clone gives its energy back to the others, plus the Ax¨¦ of nature, then...


    "Each of my clones works separately, but no part of my strength is wasted. They work like semi-autonomous Ax¨¦ amplifiers. They can use my strength, and give it back to me in double with the Ax¨¦ of the environment I attract..."


    Popo grinned wildly and sprouted a new wing where the previous one had been torn off. It took off, leaving the medium talking to himself. Mashal sighed.


    Really rude girl!


    She''s already lost the fight, she just doesn''t want to admit it, Ewansiha.


    He let the military fly up above the clouds. Then he raised his hands to the sky as if summoning a Genkidama. He spread his Ax¨¦ into the atmosphere, which caused a slight tremor. By altering the gas molecules in the air, he generated a hundred clones.


    The clones appeared in a circle and fell on Popo like a swarm. The phalangite looked like a volleyball. A clone would come and punch or kick it. It would roll through the air, and another clone would hit it from the other side. The woman felt every bone break with the impact of the blows. This was repeated until she was close to the ground.


    Mashal undid all the clones at once. He prepared a punch. However, he realized that Popo had died during the fall. Instead of hitting her, he gently supported her in his arms. The soldier turned her head to the side. The medium took her to a rock. He put her down and smoothed a lock of the young woman''s hair. He turned his back and left.


    The ex-sage didn''t taste victory, but regret at having to fight against promising youngsters manipulated by Ojwang. Something had to be done. Ilu Nla needed a revolution, he wanted to be that flame. In his day, there was no way to start the fire he wanted. Now the fire of revolt warmed his heart. He wouldn''t wait any longer.

 Song 56: Warning buzz

    Kanjuchi didn''t want to give the enemy any room to maneuver. He didn''t underestimate Feruzi because of his apparent frailty. He thought he might have skills that could compensate for his physique. He had to be a long-distance fighter, with passive techniques that activated automatically.


    I''m going to increase our distance even more to avoid counterattacks. Let''s see how he reacts to that...


    He pulled out a pistol and fired several times at the ex-sabbi. The elderly man ran for cover and avoided the shots. Kanjuchi established that his opponent should not have Repulsion as a Dominant Function or Auxiliary Function, if he did, he would have used repulsion fields as a shield.


    He''s not very good at defense, he must be a poor hand-to-hand combatant. Maybe he''d be better off attacking melee.


    Feruzi had barely started the fight and was already wheezing. Setting up an Ax¨¦ Discharge Session through a barrier generated by zimbas was exhausting. It demanded a lot from the medium. He would avoid exchanging punches with his opponent as much as possible. Unlike Nyatui and Mashal, who had this profile, his fragile health didn''t allow it.


    He caught his breath, put both hands together and concentrated his Ax¨¦ in the palms of his hands. He then formed a long oval with his hands. Gahiji''s subordinate soon understood what was happening. Feruzi was spreading his Ax¨¦ in the air, he was shaping something big.


    "Mirror of the Inconscious."


    Kanjuchi pointed his right hand towards his enemy. He stretched out his index finger, left his thumb vertical and closed the other two fingers. His hand became like a weapon. He lowered his thumb several times as if to fire. Tzummm, a hail of bee stings about seven centimeters long flew towards the ex-sage. Feruzi covered his face with the sleeves of his tunic.


    Despite the attack, he managed to shape a large flat mirror with a polished surface and no frame. The images were reflected with incredible clarity. The only thing that separated them from reality was the inversion of the reflection.


    "Your attack didn''t work. I managed to complete my Of¨® in time."


    "It''s no use. He''s already dead. Look at his forearm."


    Feruzi felt a sting in his left forearm. He looked at it in dismay. A single sting had hit his limb like a dart. Around the sting, a reddish area five centimeters in diameter appeared. Itchy inflammation formed with astonishing speed. It felt as if something was melting under the dermis.


    "Argh! What have you done?"


    Feruzi, you''re poisoned.


    You''ve let your guard down, you old fool!


    Stop bothering our medium, Feruzi, are you all right?


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    Selassi¨¦, I''ve been poisoned, but with what exactly? This guy is dangerous.


    Kanjuchi stretched out his arms. He let out a muffled smile from beneath his carved wooden mask. He proudly described Feruzi''s symptoms:


    "You''ve been poisoned by my apitoxin. In less than five minutes, you''ll go into anaphylactic shock. Until then, you''ll suffer a lot before you die. Rhabdomyolysis will tear your muscles like paper, and hemolysis will destroy your blood cells. A generalized hemorrhage will leak out of your pores."


    Feruzi gave a bewildered smile. His vision was blurred. He was sweating profusely due to his fever, but his body was as cold as a rock of ice. His head ached as if a hot iron had been shoved into his brain. The pain gave him urinary incontinence. He bent over and vomited.


    He rose from the floor feeling dizzy. The world around him seemed to distort. No shape seemed fixed anymore. He tried to remove the stinger by applying Ax¨¦ to it, but as he tried to pull it out, the stinger stuck further into his forearm.


    "My stinger has micro bristles all along its length. You should see your face now, old man. Your sclera is bluish, your skin is dry. You''re thirsty, aren''t you?"


    Feruzi''s skin was yellowish and full of rashes all over. It gave him the appearance of Swiss cheese. He itched and burned as if he had been bathed in hot coals. He tried to articulate a few words, but his mouth was swollen. Kanjuchi put his cupped hand to his ear and asked:


    "Huh, what did you say?"


    "Mirror... of... Transfer."


    A frame appeared around the mirror summoned by Feruzi. Two girls, from the bust up, framed the mirror. There was one at the top of the piece, and on the opposite side, there was another upside down, like a playing card. They wore silver crowns and scarlet veils. One of their arms served as the side of the mirror. With their arms free, they held out their hands to Kanjuchi, as if inviting him into a deadly embrace.


    Feruzi fell to his knees. The soldier was paralyzed with fear. The symptoms of the apitoxin no longer manifested themselves in the ex-sage. Calmly, he stood up. He straightened his forearm. He blew all the air out of his lungs. He faced Kanjuchi with confidence.


    Next time you fight, bring a geriatric diaper, old man.


    If it weren''t for my ancestor, Iregi, I''d teach you a lesson.


    That would be nice, Feruzi. That idiot never shuts up.


    Please be quiet. We''re going through difficult times here.


    The soldier felt a sharp pain in his forearm. He brought it close to his masked face. The sting was embedded in it. The phalangite pretended to be under the influence of apitoxin. He staggered and spoke in a slurred voice:


    "But how? You were supposed to be dead, old man! It''s not possible that you hit me with my own sting. This must be an illusion."


    "It looks like the poison has turned against the little bee. I''m sorry, it''s not an illusion. When my mirror reflected it, your Ax¨¦ and the vibration of your Inner Portal was registered on the surface. I can reflect any attack against you."


    "Hehehehe, you imbecile! Venomous animals are immune to their own poison. I''m not going to die here. I''ll go down shooting, everyone will die. Uaaargh!"


    A stinger emerged from each of Kanjuchi''s bleeding pores. They dripped poison.


    "You''ll kill even your companions that way."


    "I don''t care about their lives, I care about my mission. Die, you stupid old man."


    Kanjuchi fired thousands of stingers from his pores. At high speed, the poisonous needles


    "Mirror of the Death Pulse!"


    Kanjuchi collapsed to the ground. His entire body was pierced. All around him, thousands of stings were embedded in the ground. He felt like he was going to die, but he wanted to know how he had been defeated, even using the full potential of his abilities.


    "I won''t accept being beaten by an old man like you. Like... bluogh! How did you do that?"


    "Your murderous intent becomes damage to yourself inside the Mirror of the Death Pulse."


    Kanjuchi looked at the mirror. Its frame was dark, as if it were a tattered shroud or a flag destroyed by time. In the reflection of the image, he had killed everyone present. Feruzi, due to his proximity, was the hardest hit. Gahiji''s subordinate smiled madly.


    "This is a reflection of your unconscious. A projection of your violence, your desire to cause suffering to others, your doom."


    Feruzi turned away. He was no longer talking to an enemy, but to a corpse.

 Song 57: The spear that cuts everything

    Nyatui gritted his teeth. He was so excited by the fight that it was the closest thing to a smile he could offer his opponent. Both of their bodies were bruised. Their abdomens and chests were splattered with blood. Wounds throbbed all over their arms and legs.


    Colonel Ngare was furious. The fight between the two was taking too long. He and his allies should have gotten there and executed the Masters of Suspicion without delay, and taken the Spiritual Key of Faith as a gift. He looked at the electrocution claws; he had already killed several people with a single, deadly blow. However, his opponent stood as if nothing had happened. He was being overcome by the medium''s resistance.


    He wiped his chin with the back of his hand. His breathing was heavy. His muscles ached from all that physical effort. He took a combat drug from his suit and injected it into his thigh. He let out a grunt. Vigor returned to his tired face. Watching the scene, Nyatui shook his head as if he disapproved of what he saw.


    "What is it, arf-arf?"


    "If you hadn''t done that, arf-arf... you would have died with honor, Colonel. Only losers use doping."


    "I didn''t come here to compete with you, arf-arf... you damned medium."


    "You don''t guarantee yourself in x1, that''s for sure. You promised me a bitter defeat, so far I''ve seen nothing..."


    "Shut up, you bastard."


    Ngare took off towards Nyatui with extreme speed. He tried to use his claws like scissors and cut it off. The frontal blow left the soldier''s belly exposed. The medium used his spear like a baseball bat. The phalangite was thrown backwards. He used his claws to break the impact. A curtain of dust and pebbles was raised in the action.


    The curtain lowered and the medium emerged with his spear raised like an axe. He landed a blow, but his opponent managed to dodge. The combat drug had enhanced Ngare''s abilities. In addition to his share of cheetah DNA, his senses were sharper, giving him incredible agility.


    Nyatui wasn''t impressed. On the contrary, he was angry. He swung his spear furiously to force his opponent to use everything he had. In his experience, the ex-sage knew that the colonel wasn''t using all his strength. He was offended by that. He who sat on the Throne of Force had no need of advantages.


    When he realized that his enemy wasn''t going to show his true power, he decided that he would use his and put an end to the whole thing. Nyatui held his spear horizontally in both hands and bent his knees. He concentrated his Ax¨¦ on his blood circulation. This caused his muscle mass to increase and stiffen.


    Are you wasting your energy on an enemy as insignificant as this?


    Mrs. Dalji, let me make this arrogant man pay for his tongue.


    You''re always so passionate, Nyatui.


    Isn''t that the charm you saw in me?


    "Superhuman: Break of Values."


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    "Have you gotten bigger? Are you trying to make up for something?"


    Before he could laugh, Nyatui appeared in front of Ngare, grabbed him by the neck as if he were a doll. He lifted him off the ground and prepared a spear thrust that would decapitate him in one blow. In desperation, the colonel drove his claws into his enemy''s arm, but they broke in half. The medium''s skin seemed armored.


    Ngare could no longer allow himself to be carried away by his vanity. He concentrated a large amount of Ax¨¦ on his legs. This attracted Nyatui''s attention. At that moment, he jumped up and kicked the medium in the abdomen. It was the same sensation as kicking an iron pillar. The former sage didn''t move an inch, but loosened his grip.


    Ngare retreated as far away as possible. He took up a circular race around Nyatui. It was so fast that residual images formed in the air for a few seconds. The Ax¨¦ concentrated in his legs gave him an advantage over the medium. With all the Ax¨¦ injected into his body, he slowed down.


    With part of my cheetah genome, I can reach a top speed of one hundred and thirty kilometers per hour. But with this technique, I can reach a speed of Mach 1, breaking the sound barrier! He won''t even know what hit him.


    Ngare advanced against Nyatui, disappearing from his field of vision. When he appeared, the colonel produced a sonic boom and a wave of air pressure was left behind. He kicked the former sage in the neck. The medium tilted his head to the side. His opponent disappeared, emerging on the other side with a knee to the right shoulder.


    The sonic booms continued to bombard the room. The colonel appeared, struck Nyatui''s joints and disappeared. The target remained rigid where he was. He didn''t seem to be affected by any of the blows. The soldier had attacked his joints in order to immobilize him. Ngare took his distance, waiting for the other man''s body to fall. He had been attacking Nyatui for several minutes without him uttering a single sound.


    "Poor guy, he died on his feet. At least he died like a man."


    "What a disappointment, I expected more from a Gahiji phalangite."


    He began to walk with firm, determined steps towards Ngare. The colonel couldn''t believe his eyes. His opponent had not received a single wound in that sequence of blows. Nagre rose from the ground. He prepared one last attack aimed at decapitating the medium.


    "Transvaluation: Rupture of Values."


    Amid the sonic boom, the soldier appeared in front of Nyatui. With a flick of his spear, he severed his opponent''s leg. The limb went to one side, and Ngare fell to the other. The soldier''s eyes went wide. Someone had managed to stop and anticipate his movement at that speed, more than that, to counterattack.


    "Carrying out such a flashy and repetitive attack makes you predictable, Ngare."


    "NOOOOOO! You should already be dead. I''ll regenerate, I''ll kill you."


    "Even if that were possible, it wouldn''t do any good."


    "We''re phalangites, of course we can regenerate."


    "Your friends, if they''re not dead, yes, not you."


    Ngare looked at his thigh. No blood was dripping from the wound, nor was it possible to see the tissues, muscles and lacerated bone. There was something like an irregular energy field at the site of the wound. It felt like his atoms were being pulled out with tweezers. Tears involuntarily streamed down the soldier''s face.


    "No matter what you do, your leg can no longer be regenerated. My Of¨® doesn''t cut matter at the cellular or molecular level, but at the subatomic level. I cut your atom in half and disperse its subparticles. It''s the most powerful spear technique, with which I can cut through everything."


    "No, no, no! You''re not that powerful. Nobody is that powerful. That''s almost like being a god."


    Ngare crawled like an animal towards his severed leg. He laughed and cried madly. He had suffered a blow that was impossible to heal. He tried to concentrate his Ax¨¦ on the wounded leg, but his life force was dispersed in the air as if it were refusing to come into contact with it.


    He tried to stand up on one leg, but he couldn''t keep his balance and collapsed to the ground. Nyatui went towards him. Ngare crawled with speed, but the former sage drove his spear into his abdomen. The man flopped on the ground like a gutted fish. The medium lifted him into the air. The weight caused him to slide down the spear.


    "I''m not going to die alone!"


    Ngare grabbed a hand grenade. He triggered the pin. A huge explosion erupted. The soldier''s body was completely charred. Pieces of it flew in all directions. However, Nyatui didn''t suffer any damage. In a sudden movement, he threw the corpse away. He dematerialized the spear. He undid his Of¨®.


    Dalji came up behind him. She observed the medium''s hair. It had gained several gray strands.


    "You took an unnecessary risk, you foolish medium. The Of¨® of the Superhuman grants you invulnerability for a few minutes. However, it consumes too much Ax¨¦, to the point of causing you to age prematurely. If you use it with Transvaluation, do you want death to visit you sooner, Nyatui?"


    "What''s the point of fighting if you don''t do it with all your might, where''s the honor in that? Don''t lecture me, Lady Dalji. In other times, you fought alone against a huge army and recklessly lost your life when you could have retreated..."


    "Back then I had no choice, unlike you. We''d better go and check on the boy in the Discharge Barrier."

 Song 58: Just barely

    Fadala couldn''t contain his irritation. He''d let the enemy escape, gotten his suit dirty with paint and put the rest of us at risk. With his two pistols in hand, he scanned the area. He had reached a place with several rocks, where the river seemed to be deeper and less rocky than near the waterfall.


    He tracked Chandu until the drops of blood disappeared into the ground. The killer had used a large rock as cover. With that camouflage, his opponent could be anywhere. Close enough to hit him full on. He took a deep, slow breath. He let all the air out of his lungs. He controlled the adrenaline coursing through his blood.


    He was a member of the Il¨º Apanyan, in that hunt, he was the hunter and not the prey. No wonder people whispered the nickname undertaker to these assassins for hire. When an Il¨º Apanyan assassin marked his target, he would die. The more the victim tried to flee or resist, the more painful his death became.


    Fadala knew how much failure in an assassination was a disgrace to his equals. It was a sin. Even though Chandu was not a target marked by the hands of God, he could not get away with it. It became a matter of pride for the hitman. He would silence his target before Akachi awoke from the Discharge Barrier.


    He used his blood to bring me here. It''s a place full of rocks, they could serve as cover. But the tracks end abruptly. He wants me to believe that he''s right behind that rock, but I know he''s not, it''s a trap.


    The gunman knew that the moment he fired, he would give away his location. He sharpened his ears. He looked up at a rocky wall that stretched far above where he was standing. A large stone was half loose. It needed a little push to collapse. He calculated the angle of the shot so as not to compromise himself. The echo could throw off his location at first, so he had to act quickly.


    Bang, he shot the stone. It rolled down the slope. Before it reached the halfway point, it was cut in half by a concentrated high-pressure jet of water coming from the river. Fadala was impressed. This was a process identical to the hydrodemolition caused in the environment by water. But with greater acceleration, concentration and precision.


    Chandu was in the river, he would have infinite ammunition for his water jet shots. What''s more, he could change his position along the river. If he had Spin Bomb by his side, he would ask it to blow up sections of the river to force the enemy to leave. In its natural habitat, it wouldn''t be able to kill the soldier.


    Fadala calculated Chandu''s position. He would use a ricochet ballistic technique. It would be unpredictable to calculate and dodge in time. The falangeta wouldn''t even know what had hit him. The sniper closed his eyes. He mentalized the entire visible length of the perimeter. He divided it up like a rectangle.


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    He would shoot with triangulations, it would be like playing billiards. He established seven angular positions. They would be the basis for calculating how to hit the enemy. He would have seven chances to hit the target. Fadala prepared himself, aimed his pistols. A drop of sweat dripped from his forehead. He fired seven times at the rock wall.


    The projectiles ricocheted and hit the river. The assassin looked to see if the water had changed color. He saw a dark liquid flowing out. He jumped up and fired several shots in the direction of the source of the liquid. He quickly reloaded his combs.


    "Damn! It''s paint."


    A jet of water hit his shoulder. Fadala fell to the ground with his shoulder gushing blood. Chandu crawled out of the water. He had been hit in the chest. His skin was mucousy, his huge, almost glassy eyes were fixed on his opponent. His huge head was throbbing. Three pairs of arms had emerged from his abdomen, and his fingers were large octopus tentacles. With them, he grabbed Fadala''s legs.


    He tried to drag him into the river. The assassin kicked him in the head, but Chandu resisted. He grabbed Fadala''s other leg. He feared for his life. He aimed his pistols at the enemy, but his knees were entangled in the falangeta''s tentacles. The pain made him miss his shots. The half octopus man continued to pull his opponent into the river.


    "Let go of me, you bastard."


    "No, you''ll suffocate in the water. You managed to hit me twice. I''m going to shove my tentacles into all your orifices. You''ll feel pain like never before."


    Half of Fadala''s body was already in the river. He thought he would die there. His pistols were empty. In the water, he would be easy prey for his opponent. He refused to beg for his life or ask for help. He was too proud to do that. He would accept death if it came for him.


    Unexpectedly, a dark thread appeared around Chandu''s neck. He tried to escape it, but was unsuccessful. The metallic thread became even more entangled in his neck. It began to lacerate his slimy skin. Chandu despaired. He let go of Fadala and tried to pull the cerol out. His tentacular fingers were severed.


    "No, what''s that?"


    "That''s cerol!"


    Spin Bomb was on the other side. In an ingenious way, she had thrown the string around Chandu''s neck like a lasso. At the end, she tied a firework sword so that the force of the explosive would pull the string back. The cerol became more and more twisted. Blood began to gush from the soldier''s neck like a fountain.


    Spin Bomb jumped to the other shore and came at him. His body fell to one side and his head to the other. Fadala lay on his stomach. He straightened his tie. He stood up, straightening his sore knees.


    "We killed Cthulhu! That was a vendetta."


    "You should have acted sooner, you''re our support member, Spin Bomb."


    "Stop complaining. You were the only one who didn''t kill anyone. Everyone else has already buried their enemy, just you. Now, seriously, if Akachi hadn''t awakened from the Discharge Barrier, I wouldn''t have come here to help you. Take care, you see."


    "I''ve always relied on my abilities. Sometimes we depend on luck, chance or even fate to stay alive."


    "Stop with your bar-room philosophies, come on, you baldy!"

 Song 59: Mission Failed

    Akachi woke up from the Discharge Session. The barrier dissolved. He rose from the ground. His body felt light. He no longer felt all that tension circulating in his body. His Inner Portal and the Divine Power emitted by the Spiritual Key of Faith had stabilized. He felt he could use the artifact''s full potential from there.


    He saw four bodies lying in a row on the ground with a cloth over their faces. Spin Bomb was supporting Fadala. He had a serious wound on his shoulder. The wound was gushing a cascade of blood. Akachi walked towards him. The girl placed the assassin against a rock. He was pale and looked very frail.


    Feruzi walked over to him and inscribed striped dots around his shoulder. He applied his Ax¨¦ to the wound. The blood was stopped. Although he looked strong, he was tired and in a lot of pain. He collapsed right there.


    Akachi and Spin Bomb looked at each other for a moment. She closed her fist and punched him in the stomach. The medium bent over and put both hands on his stomach.


    "Argh! Why did you do that?"


    "It took you too long to wake up. If you''d been here, it would have helped."


    "I''m sorry for the embarrassment. You wouldn''t believe me if I told you what I saw¡­"


    "I don''t care, just try to help with something."


    The ex-sages smiled when they saw Spin Bomb''s flushed face. Despite her sullen manner, she cared about her companions.


    Suddenly, the Savage Unit''s military helicopter appeared and flew over the area. The air support had been ordered to return after a certain period. However, when it realized that Gahiji''s phalangites had been shot down, the aircraft turned around.


    The ex-sages prepared to attack, but showed signs of fatigue. Nyatui stepped forward and gestured for them to move away. He raised his arm in the air. The ex-sage shaped his spear.


    "They won''t get away, not from me."


    He threw the blade into the aircraft''s tank. The impact sent it spinning. It exploded before it could get away. The wreckage fell down the waterfall. Nyatui wiped his hands, slapping them together. She turned to her companions, all of whom were lying on the ground.


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    "Come on, get up! We have to bury the bodies of the phalangites. Bunch of lazy bastards."


    ?


    Fadala opened his eyes. He realized he was inside one of the huts. He looked around. He noticed Spin Bomb dipping some cloths into a clay pot, taking them out, wringing out the cold water and applying it to his forehead as a compress. When she saw that the man was awake, she got up hurriedly and went to the door of the hut. She waved her arms and spoke with unrestrained excitement:


    "Hey guys, Fadala''s awake, he''s awake!"


    The others entered the hut. The space had shrunk with so many people inside. Despite this, the assassin felt reassured. He knew he could count on them. He tried to get up, but Akachi and Feruzi made him lie down again. His shoulder had healed, but he couldn''t push himself, he had to stay lying down.


    Feruzi lit his pipe and, to take the edge off the heat, removed his hood and rolled up the sleeves of his tunic to his shoulders. Akachi, Fadal and Spin Bomb saw his face more clearly. He was very old, with a firm face and white, woolly drool. His hair, as gray as a cloud, was straight, short and bald, which widened his forehead. His skin was as white as if he were a ghost and his eyes were violet.


    Fadala smoothed his shoulder with his fingertips, then turned to the former wise man.


    "Thank you, Mr. Feruzi."


    "There''s nothing to thank you for, you''re our ally."


    "Don''t be so sure, you old fool. Isn''t it about time you told them the truth, Fadala?"


    "I''m Fadala, I''m part of an organization that silences people or groups that put the world at risk¡­"


    "I don''t want your false narrative, Fadala, I said ''the truth''. You''re a mortician for the Il¨º Apanyan, a monastic-warrior order. At heart, they''re just hitmen using faith as a pretext to make money and influence governments."


    Spin Bomb collapsed on the floor. His knees were shaking. He felt that he had been in great danger on this journey.


    A¡­ a¡­ a hitman? I thought the guy was just a merc slot machine. He even looks like a corp.


    Fenyang came up behind Akachi and put his hand on his shoulder. He gave a long, sharp whistle close to his ear. The boy swallowed. He had been walking with an assassin all this time without knowing it.


    I''ve always been suspicious of this guy, bro. Never trust a bald man with a gun.


    What are you talking about, Fenyang? Nyatui only noticed because he must be a very experienced warrior. The Circle of Sages had access to Ilu Nla''s court and knew all the threats that surrounded it.


    It seems that everyone here has their own well-guarded mysteries. Be careful, Akachi, you could be his target.


    I don''t think so, otherwise he would have killed me by now. This guy was too good to be just a bodyguard. He helped us destroy a bipedal tank.


    "The Il¨º Apanyan is a mysterious organization with tentacles stretching across the underworld on a global level. Sorry, no pun intended¡­ Its origins go back to a Nigerian Christian sect, with very ''heterodox'' practices, if I may say so. It was born many centuries ago and operates in the shadows."


    Spin Bomb pointed a finger at Fadala, and still disturbed by the news, asked:


    "What the hell is a guy like that doing in Ilu Nla?"


    "I guarantee he''s not on vacation or sightseeing. I had a little chat with him that didn''t convince me at all. He''s here to kill someone. My question is, who is it?"


    Everyone stared at Fadala. For the first time, the killer felt vulnerable. He was sick in bed, without his pistols and with reduced mobility. All he could do was lie and tell the truth.

 Song 60: Truth hurts, lies kill

    "I''ve come to kill Acting President Ojwang."


    The words echoed through the hut like thunder. Nyatui narrowed his eyes. The undertakers didn''t act unless money was involved. It was thanks to their monetary power that they were able to remain secretive and act in the shadows. Ojwang hadn''t declared war on the Il¨º Apanyan, that would be foolish.


    Feruzi knew how mysterious and sometimes ambiguous Babu''s actions were. It was difficult to discern the Il¨º Apanyan''s objectives in a conflict. Its leader was rumored to have premonitory powers and thought of himself as the Pupil of God. A man capable of understanding the wishes of the Transcendent. For Feruzi, this was nothing more than presumption. His contempt did not diminish the group''s dangerousness.


    Although impressed by the situation, Mashal saw it not as a problem, but as an opportunity. He wanted a new coup d''¨¦tat against Ojwang, and saw no problem in forging alliances even with the Il¨º Apanyan. He became even more interested in Fadala. He scratched his woolly chin with the folds of his fingers.


    "That means we''re on the same side."


    Nyatui spat angrily. He couldn''t believe what Mashal was saying. The two of them stared at each other, talking only with their eyes.


    "Are you going to recruit the undertaker for your revolution?"


    "The Ilu Nla Liberation Movement is still alive. The guerrilla groups are grouped together and ready to act. Now we have someone with a Spiritual Key on our side, Fadala seems to be willing to go to any lengths..."


    Feruzi coughed. He rested one hand on his chest. The flood of information was too fast for him to keep up.


    "You still haven''t let go of that revolutionary ideal after all these years? When were you going to tell us that you''re still running the urban guerrilla group?"


    Ignoring Feruzi, Nyatui continued his discussion with Mashal:


    "The undertaker won''t ally himself with you for your ideals, you old fool! There''s no guarantee that he''s lying to us. Assassins can''t be trusted. You could become one of his future victims."


    Fadala let out a grunt. They had forgotten about him. With some effort, he propped himself up on his elbows, raised his head and said softly.


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    "I have no interest in Ilu Nla''s internal political disputes. I only wish to fulfill the mission that has been entrusted to me. I''m from Il¨º Apanyan, and I only take orders from my Babu."


    Akachi looked at Fadala. He couldn''t understand how someone could have such devotion. That must also be faith. He now understood that word a little more. It differed from fanaticism. Once again, his choices forked. There was the possibility of joining a revolutionary movement. He could accept Feruzi''s invitation and train, or go to the underground tournament in Ilu Nla.


    In the first case, he would be in direct contact with Ojwang, without knowing the situation of his father and grandfather. In the second, he seemed to shirk his responsibility. In the third, he put himself at unnecessary risk, at least he could enter enemy territory more easily. He felt confused about what he should do.


    Mashal glanced at Adisa''s son. He wanted to rally the young man to his cause.


    "Listen, Akachi. I won''t force your hand, but understand our situation. I have five thousand men willing to give their lives for our cause: to free Ilu Nla from the tyrant of the Ojwang. He is a cancer in our society. He can''t just go around and do what he wants..."


    Feruzi banged his pipe on the floor, making a dry crack. He looked at his companion with irritation.


    "No, Mashal, don''t do that to the boy. He''s not ready."


    "Life doesn''t choose the ready, it prepares the chosen, Feruzi."


    "That''s a vulgar turn of phrase, my friend..."


    "Bah! If I have a chance to rid my homeland of the damned Ojwang, I won''t waste it. Listen to me, Akachi. You have the power of a sage. Help our group make the revolution, ally yourself with us."


    Akachi swallowed. His eyes went wide. Sweat trickled down his temple. His hands trembled on his knees. He felt like running away. It all seemed too suffocating for him. He just wanted to find his father and grandfather again, too. He didn''t want to go out and save the world or anything like that.


    However, his destiny intertwined with that of his nation. It would be a great responsibility to fight for everyone, but it would be an even greater cowardice to run away. He had been drawn into that conflict, it was true, but it was no longer about Akachi. Everyone who got involved with him would be affected, as would Yasini and Okafor.


    Fenyang, with his arms crossed and leaning against the wall behind Akachi, spoke up:


    Bro, the choice is yours. I''ll be with you all the way.


    I''m not a guerrilla, Fenyang. I''m not even a warrior. I''m just a guy who wants to be reunited with his family.


    Your family is at the same risk as everyone around you. If you don''t stand up to Ojwang, neither your family nor these people will be out of danger.


    "Mr. Mashal, I thank you. I''m going to the tournament. I''m going against your wishes, but I''m sorry. This is my decision. I''ll go even if I''m alone."


    "Don''t be hasty, my boy. If you go, you''ll be discovered by the Phalanx. General Luena is hosting the tournament. They''re going to trace the Ax¨¦ emitted by the Spiritual Key of Faith. Your face is already known to everyone. You won''t be safe!"


    "I know, no one is safe now."


    "I have a good reason for you to join us: Azekel is part of the guerrillas."


    Akachi was startled. He blinked several times to make sure he had heard. His face twitched in irritation.


    "Why didn''t he come after me?"


    "Your grandfather allied himself with us not just to protect himself, but to get information about you. I assure you that I will take you safely to your grandfather. After that, we''ll rescue your father."


    Akachi rose from the ground. He pointed a finger at Mashal. His arm was shaking. The words climbed into his throat. He gritted his teeth. He let his arm drop. It was only a proposal. The threat was coming from inside the gates of Ilu Nla. The boy inhaled the air. He would give the definitive answer that everyone wanted to hear.

 Song 61: Forked road

    "If my grandfather is part of the Ilu Nla Liberation Movement, and surrounded by mediums like you are, he must be safe. My father must still be useful to Ojwang, otherwise I would have killed him by now."


    Mashal was disconcerted. He had exposed himself, and he had also taken a big no in the face. He fervently believed that the young medium would side with him in dealing with Azekel.


    "You''re as stubborn as a mule. Don''t take that as a compliment. That''s not synonymous with a strong personality, it''s more like foolishness."


    Nyatui couldn''t help himself. He laughed, flapping his arms on his knees outrageously. He wanted to annoy Mashal. His companion had jumped the gun and lost Akachi''s support. He was pleased to see the look of disappointment on his face.


    Feruzi took a last puff. He felt that the boy was not only na?ve, but stubborn. He would be trouble, no matter which way he went. He decided he should put more smoke in his pipe. He reasoned about the situation. The Spiritual Key of Faith was connected to the boy''s life, but that wasn''t a guarantee, he could be killed at any moment. The consequences were unpredictable, the fact was unprecedented in the history of mediumship.


    Ojwang remained in power. He had a powerful and numerous army, high military technology and favorable public opinion. The Ilu Nla Liberation Movement was the closest thing to a trained and equipped army. However, as an urban guerrilla, it had limited operations. When things heated up, there would be desertions and betrayals.


    Akachi''s participation in the tournament was the most absurd idea of all. Fadala could go with him, and that could be a big risk. The assassin could kill him and take the divine artifact for himself. Who knows, he might even ally himself with the interim president. He maintained his position. The best thing would be to step back, train Akachi to his full potential and plan concretely. He had to intervene. He blew another gray cloud and said:


    "Akachi, please reason. This is my last attempt. You''ll be recognized automatically. Come and train with me."


    "No, I beg your pardon, Mr. Feruzi. I can''t hide forever. I don''t even know how I escaped until now. Ojwang must be stopped."


    Fadala coughed, he wanted to be part of the conversation. He looked at the former wise man and, in a slurred voice, spoke shrewdly:


    "There is electronic equipment that can alter part of your face, Akachi. It would be facial microsurgery. Your biometric data can also be falsified by the Il¨º Apanyan¡­"


    What a dangerous guy! He''s trying to take Akachi over to his side. I didn''t want to, but I''ll find a solution.


    Feruzi motioned for Fadala to be quiet. He picked up his pipe and pointed it at Adisa''s son.


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    "I don''t approve of your project, I think it''s suicidal. But I don''t want to force you into anything. I just don''t want you to regret it. I can use my Scratched Point Magic and alter your appearance. It won''t last forever, and it will need to be redone periodically."


    "I don''t know this technique, I don''t know if I''ll be able to do it, Mr. Feruzi."


    "You''ll have to learn the basics. Zimbas are nothing more than writing with Ax¨¦ applied to it to promote effects. These effects can be activated in different ways. If you know the exact sequence, and apply Ax¨¦ to it, it will work."


    Nyatui raised an eyebrow. He could already see in his mind where all this was going.


    "Even so, old man. It''s the dumbest infiltration plan I''ve ever seen. The Phalanx has its eye on Akachi. Yasini''s met Spin Bomb, and he''s probably already got the drop on him. Anyway, I''m tired of retirement. That last fight made me want to loosen up my muscles."


    "Does that mean that Mr. Nyatui will go with me?"


    "You''re a very cheeky boy. It sounds a bit silly, but I want to see how it ends. Get ready! If you waste my time, I''ll behead you with my spear."


    Glup! Akachi and Fenyang put their hands on their necks. The young medium didn''t know whether the giant''s company would be good or bad. He would have preferred Mashal or Feruzi to come with him.


    Spin Bomb looked at Akachi. There was no way back to Chrome Hill. It would be risky to be reunited with his family. The waterfalls were no longer safe either. It wasn''t fear that motivated her decision. She wanted to stay close to Akachi, to be useful in some way. With a whirlwind of thoughts racing through her mind, she shouted with her eyes closed:


    "Akachi, I''m coming with you!"


    Everyone looked at the girl. The sword crafter''s cheeks flushed. I looked at the ground. She felt she had drawn too much attention.


    Feruzi took his pipe out of his mouth. He put a hand to his chin and glanced at Mashal. The other medium understood what the other was saying just by looking at him.


    "Spin Bomb, I know you want to help. We all do. I don''t think the underground fighting tournament to recruit mercenaries is the place for you. If you were far away from me, I wouldn''t be able to teach you the Scratched Point Magic."


    "That''s right, with that cricket chassis you''ve got, you won''t last a round. Besides, the explosive-making technique is better suited to us urban guerrillas."


    Akachi and Spin Bomb looked at each other for a moment. They turned their faces away and remained silent. The medium wanted her close to him. Despite her noisy¡­ and somewhat aggressive manner, she always showed up at the right time. She made plans and created strategies during the fights.


    However, Azekel''s grandson understood the risk she was taking. She had no martial skills, no command of weapons or knowledge of the mediumistic arts. Firework swords couldn''t be guided, the fuse wasn''t lit instantly and explosive devices could be thrown back at her and her allies during a fight.


    "All right, I get it, I''m useless!"


    But nobody said that¡­


    Akachi, relax, women are just like that. Put up with it or freak out? That''s the question.


    Fadala put a hand on his injured shoulder. He still felt some pain, he wasn''t at his full physical strength.


    "Mr. Feruzi, how soon will I be on my feet?"


    "Three days¡­"


    "Give me two, I''ll accompany Akachi to the tournament. It could increase our chances."


    "It''ll be a great opportunity for you, won''t it?"


    "Yes. During the events in the war between the criminal factions, I acted in the shadows. The Savage Unit was killed. I''m still in the shadows. I have a lot of leeway."


    That''s my fear. You''re still an unknown to me.


    The whole group decided that they would wait for Fadala to recover. In the meantime. Akachi would receive instructions for the zimbas. After that, the group would split into two: Feruzi, Mashal and Spin Bomb would infiltrate the city and go to the headquarters of the Ilu Nla Liberation Movement; Akachi, Fadala and Nyatui would go to the tournament.

 Song 62: Meeting behind closed doors

    The three Phalanx generals were invited to a meeting with interim President Ojwang. It would be more accurate to say that they were ordered. They were to abandon any mission or business and go to meet the head of state in the secret laboratory beneath the Iroko Tree. Only high-ranking military personnel and scientists loyal to Ojwang had access.


    Gahiji took the elevator to the laboratory in the Ministry of Defense. As he typed in a sequence of numbers and had his biometrics scanned, the elevator went to floors far underground. He didn''t want to show it, but he was tense. The bitter taste of failure was on his lips.


    The doors opened with a dry click, like something being vacuum-packed. He stepped out and took the high, wide and long corridor. Huge air conditioning and gas transportation ducts filled the scene. Along the way, robots and transport drones made their presence felt. Test and research rooms stretched along both sides of the corridor. The corridor ended at a corner.


    General Gahiji almost bumped into a big man coming from the other direction. His armor was the color of obsidian with bronze details, as dark as the night sky with the fleeting glow of moonlight. It was twice the size of an ordinary man and took up two thirds of the corridor. His face gave off a feeling of superiority without any aplomb.


    "Hohoho, the great general Gahiji has lost his phalanx. My condolences to the Savage Unit. If they had been under my command, they wouldn''t have been slaughtered like flies."


    Gahiji clenched his fists. The sound of cybernetic muscles and transistors emitted a high-pitched sound, low like an electric guitar.


    "Don''t you dare talk about them, General Jitujeusi. You don''t strike me as the most successful military man in our Armed Forces. The Circle of Sages is still at large. Don''t be such a coward as to use the name of the dead to attack me. Do it directly against me, if you can¡­"


    Gahiji continued walking. He left the big man behind. The transhuman lap bent his knees. He put his arms together at his sides and began to condense Ax¨¦ around himself. The matter around the general began to deform. The walls began to crack, and the walls to distort as if they were a sheet of paper.


    Is he crazy? Are you going to use your Quantity Alteration here?


    "Put the guns down, boys! This could be considered friendly fire, you know. Boys always fighting over who has the biggest dick. Come on, don''t keep our leader waiting."


    General Luena appeared between the two of them. She was a tall woman with a slender body and athletic muscles. She had long, curly hair that flowed down her back. Her youthful face, with its prominent cheekbones and plump lips, was covered by a transparent visor. His armor was cyan, with silver details.


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    Jitujeusi was distracted by this intrusion. He wouldn''t mind fighting his companions. His excessive self-confidence allowed him to think so. He pointed a finger at the general''s face.


    "Don''t meddle in my affairs, Luena. Unless you want to share the lesson I''m going to teach Gahiji."


    "You can''t attack what you can''t see, my dear General Jitujeusi. You don''t want to see me angry."


    "Whoever controls one of the four fundamental forces of nature is going to be afraid of whom?"


    The two generals were about to attack each other. Before they could take the first step, a holoprojection of Ojwang appeared and ordered:


    "Come to my office immediately. Don''t make me ask you twice."


    "Saved by the gong, Luena."


    "Say that to your reflection in the mirror."


    The trio of generals headed towards a huge hall with a concave ceiling. A series of panels connected to an extensive network of wires and connectors. The panels took various measurements and readings. These connectors ran up the walls, crawled along the ceiling and connected to the roots of the Ir?ko tree. The tree was a source of Divine Energy. Like the Spiritual Keys, the tree was one of Fante Obataiye''s divine emanations.


    In front of the reading panels and in the center of the hall stood a kind of generator. It was made up of a concentrated core of massive energy. It formed a sphere of Ax¨¦ particles. Around it, a series of seven rings rotated around and inside each other. A few scientists and auxiliary robots operated the machinery.


    Ojwang was wearing a lab coat and large-rimmed sunglasses. When he saw the generals coming, he dismissed everyone and activated the high security protocols. No one outside that room could see or hear what was going to happen there. The interim president took a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped the sweat dripping from his forehead.


    "I thought I''d made the place and time of our meeting clear, Phalanx."


    Gahiji hurried to apologize. He didn''t feel that the lack of punctuality was part of manliness and respect for the military hierarchy. Ojwang gestured for him to shut up.


    "I expected more from you, General Gahiji. Your last performance gave me reason to be disappointed, despite your previous achievements."


    "I underestimated the strength of our enemies, sir. I beg your pardon."


    "Don''t make excuses! The Savage Unit couldn''t handle three pensioners, that''s outrageous for our Armed Forces. If it wasn''t causing insubordination, I''d remove you from office and send you to an office on the border."


    Gahiji clenched his fists and turned his face away. Jitujeusi smiled broadly. He would remember the disappointment his military companion had shown when he heard those harsh words. He felt great pleasure.


    "We only have possession of one Spiritual Key. The Circle of Sages is still harassing me. That Akachi is still at large. Day by day, he could become a threat to us. I hope you don''t fail like those two, General Luena. Capture Akachi, dead or alive, during the tournament."


    "Yes, sir!"


    Jitujeusi didn''t hold back. He glared at Ojwang. The two stared at each other. The general took a few steps back. His attempt at intimidation was met with an even greater threat.


    "Do you know why I brought you here?"


    "No, sir¡­"


    "That divine energy generator is a closed door. I need six more keys to open it. I want to build a new world, without mediums. The dead will have peace, and we''ll be able to live in a world where science can extract all human potential."


    He removed his dark goggles. He stretched his arms into the air. His eyes shone. With an emotional tone of voice, he declared to the generals:


    "A new world! We will be the architects of that world. But it won''t be built without effort. I need you, my generals. Don''t fail, or all the effort we''ve put in will be nothing more than a barrack, a minor thing in the chronology of history. Will you continue to serve this noble purpose?"


    "Yes, sir!"

 Song 63: Grand theft hovercraft

    Two days passed. Fadala recovered from his injuries. The scar on his shoulder would serve as a warning until the end of his life. He felt that something was different. The members of the Il¨º Apanyan had no family or friends. For the most part, their missions were solo, and their devotion was to their cause. He thought he should be more careful.


    Before descending the falls and splitting up, Mashal took some old maps. He gave one of them to the other group. The map showed the old plans for the abandoned metro station. The original project was to connect the metropolis with the slums. The tracks would split into at least four transfer stations. They would connect with inclined planes, a kind of transverse elevator, and urban bus lines.


    Fadala crossed his arms and analyzed the route. The only visible line was the one that belonged to the Burned Circuit Complex. It snaked through the savannah to a restricted access area controlled by the government. There was a small garrison, nothing too flashy, but it would cause problems for the unwary.


    "We''ll have to leave subtlety out of it."


    Feruzi brought Akachi and Nyatui out of the hut. With the zimbas applied to their bodies, they had taken on the form of other people. In the absence of references, the young medium turned into Fenyang. Seeing this, Spin Bomb approached him. He felt a mixture of emotions.


    "Damn! You look just like that pamonha, Akachi! Well, you don''t have good taste. Why didn''t you choose the look of an actor or rap star?"


    "Sorry, Spin Bomb, I didn''t mean to imitate anyone."


    The medium looked like a maculel¨º fighter himself, only taller than Adisa''s son. With her two index fingers, she poked Akachi, tickling him.


    Fenyang felt like he was looking into a mirror. She stopped in front of Akachi, put the fingers of her hand into the shape of a screen and slowly moved it closer to the boy''s face.


    Why don''t you take a picture, Fenyang?


    Dude, it''s not for nothing, but even my look-alike overflows with my beauty, bro.


    Nyatui chose the look of a former African-American action movie actor from the 1980s and 1990s. But taller than the original version. When she saw him, Spin Bomb was stunned. She pulled out her smartphone and took a selfie against Nyatui''s wishes.


    Mashal put a hand to his chin and narrowed his eyes. After analysis, he gave his verdict:


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    "Didn''t that infringe copyright?"


    "Dead people don''t need royalties, old man."


    "Focus, we''re wasting time here."


    Feruzi drew the attention of his former colleagues. They had a lot to do until they realized their plans. He had them check their supplies. They would be walking for a long time. They might encounter patrols on the way, and even bounty hunters.


    Mashal would take Feruzi and Spin Bomb to a port area in the north of the metropolis. There were collaborators from the Ilu Nla Liberation Movement. They were low-ranking coastguards who were poorly paid. Others helped out of ideological adherence to the movement.


    Akachi, Nyatui and Fadala''s journey would take them in the opposite direction. The risks for them could be even greater. They said goodbye and wished each other success. Spin Bomb hugged Akachi and whispered something in his ear that made him blush. Fenyang heard everything, but never broached the subject with Akachi.


    ?


    Days passed. The group led by Nyatui was not very cooperative, more due to his imposition than the acceptance of the others. The ex-sage ordered them to take the river, as it was wetter and they would have an abundant supply of water. Contrary to Fadala''s suggestion. The latter considered it safer to go away from the river.


    Akachi was frustrated by the endless discussion. It seemed that Nyatui and Fadala were competing to see who had the most testosterone. The young medium thought that they were still high on adrenaline from the fight against the Savage Unit. They just needed something to blow off steam.


    After another day of walking and pointless discussions, they noticed a fire. Hidden behind some rocks, they spied it. The light was coming from a campfire. A military group was camped on the left bank of the river. They noticed that there was a hybrid vehicle parked on the banks. The trio of travelers looked at each other.


    With their frowns tightened, they didn''t need to say anything. The malice was intuitive. They waited for the soldiers to sleep, and in the dead of night, they stole the hovercraft. Before the soldiers knew it, they were long gone.


    Fadala drove the vehicle. On the arid savannah terrain, the hovercraft glided along at speed. The assassin drove well, avoiding rocks and branches that could puncture the air mattress. The moon was rising high in the sky. The stars circled in the dance of the stars. The low rumble of the vehicle was the only thing cutting through the silence. The vehicle''s radio communicator called out. Akachi pointed with his finger. Nyatui shook his head.


    "You think you''re clever for stealing a military vehicle, don''t you? This is theft of Ilu Nla Army property. We demand that you turn yourselves in immediately."


    Nyatui let out a low laugh like an acoustic bass solo. He hadn''t had this much fun for a long time. He switched off the radio communicator. The three of them continued their journey without sleeping. They reached the abandoned railway line. They used it as a geographical guide. Little by little, the vehicle approached the tunnel, to the southwest of the metropolis.


    At the sight of the hovercraft, half a dozen soldiers stood by. Two booths, one on each side, controlled a steel gate. They gave the stop light, which was not respected. They radioed, but there was no reply. One of the soldiers inside the booth shouted to his superior outside:


    "They didn''t respond to the stop order, sir."


    "All right, soldier. The hovercraft must be malfunctioning. I''ll signal here. They can''t possibly stop when they see me."


    The head of the garrison, with the countenance of someone who had been forcibly removed from his tedious routine, stood in the middle of the driveway and waved both arms. The vehicle slowed down. But it kept its windows down and didn''t give a rank identification light or an emergency signal.


    "What are these idiots doing? Are they kidding me? These newbies, they don''t know how to respect a damn protocol... Argh! What''s that?"


    The hovercraft accelerated. The soldiers, frightened as they were, without being ordered, fired shots at the invader. It sped down the tunnel, and only failed to run over the head of the garrison because he rolled over just in time. The vehicle moved on through the tunnel, leaving all the destruction behind.

 Song 64: The underworld is not for amateurs…

    The hovercraft sped through the tunnel at high speed. At a sharp bend, Fadala hit the side of the wall with a huge bang. It didn''t slow down. Based on the rails, the vehicle continued through the poorly-lit, forked tunnels. After a few minutes, the hovercraft hit something. The air mattress burst and the hovercraft flew up and hit the roof. It tumbled sideways.


    Akachi''s ears were ringing. Everything seemed to spin like a merry-go-round. He felt his body being dragged out. Fadala and Nyatui snapped their fingers to wake him up. The young medium put his hand to his forehead. The ex-sage helped him up. After recovering, Adisa''s son cried out:


    "My goodness, Fadala. You''re such a bad driver!"


    "Shi, quiet, kid."


    "Quiet? You almost killed us!"


    Akachi noticed that his traveling companions'' eyes were alert. He rose to his feet and stood at the ready. Laughter began to ring out in the dark. He heard guns being cocked and people running around.


    "Fadala, what''s going on here?"


    "We''re surrounded. We''ve hit a thorn barrier."


    Nyatui modeled his Ax¨¦ spear, made a few evolutions with it in the air and challenged:


    "What''s the matter, come on, haven''t I got all day?"


    Tweinz, several giant spotlights were switched on at once. The trio put their hands to their faces to protect their eyes from the intense light. Akachi looked through his fingers. The silhouette of a man in a dark overcoat appeared in the light. He was carrying a machine gun. He just wanted to intimidate everyone until he got some information.


    "You''ve invaded my patch, boys."


    Fadala, with the most debauched tone in the world, lit a cigarette. The gesture prompted the armed man to point his machine gun at the trio.


    "If I were you, I wouldn''t make any sudden movements."


    "A non-adult man is no longer free to smoke these days. You''re not politically correct, are you?"


    "No, and I''m not even vegan. Who are you and what are you doing here?"


    Akachi took Fadala''s lead and started talking to the man who was threatening them.


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    "We''ve come to take part in the underground fighting tournament. We want to be managed by Mr. Tuponili."


    The man with the machine gun fired a series of shots upwards. Then he laughed as if he had been told the funniest joke in the world. A series of suspicious voices chorused. Fadala and Nyatui also laughed, not wanting to show any fear.


    "You''re very funny, young man. Unfortunately, I''m in a very bad mood. I hate it when you invade my property with lies. I don''t usually manage fighters I don''t know. I''m a gambler, and I don''t gamble to lose."


    Fadala let out a puff. His pupils dilated. His senses became sharper. It was the effect of the herbal cigarette.


    "Forgive our impulsive friend. He''s the youngest, he hasn''t yet learned to control his tongue muscles, although he hasn''t told any lies. We heard about the tournament and we want to make some money. Maybe even get drafted into the Ilu Nla Armed Forces."


    Tuponili jumped up from where he was standing with the machine gun still in his hand. The spotlights dimmed, revealing a small army of weapons aimed at the newcomers. The head of the faction turned out to be a black man, around forty years old, with a rough face and short hair.


    "I''m sorry to say that you''ve fallen for a fairy tale. The tournament does exist. But the most that can happen is that the best placed¡­ or at the very least, those who didn''t die fighting, can join Ilu Nla''s Private Army. They say it does the dirty work for the nation''s armed forces. They act in the shadows, just like us."


    "They outsource the war?"


    "That''s right, outsider. You say you want to take part in the tournament, I''ve never seen them in my life. Who the hell sent you?"


    Tuponili stabbed Fadala in the forehead. The assassin moved quickly backwards to avoid being hit. The assailant overbalanced and almost fell to the ground.


    "Quick you are. But you haven''t convinced me."


    Akachi carefully removed the brooch from his shorts pocket and held it out to Tuponili. The man stared at the object with a disgusted face.


    "It was the Happy Prince. He asked me to give you this. He said he''d recognize it and help us."


    "That faggot! Only he can do such stupid things. Come with me. Men, clear the area, we have guests."


    Tuponili walked towards a steel staircase. The trio of guests followed him. Guided by the criminal, they walked down a corridor. Akachi realized that the place was a kind of abandoned station that had been occupied and renovated to serve as headquarters. They entered through a door that led to a canteen.


    A series of tables and chairs were arranged around the room. At the back was a counter. A man in a military jacket was cleaning some glasses with a flannel. On the left was a candy machine. Truculent men were drinking or playing cards. Some had military bearing. Others were cyborgs with advanced cyberware.


    The group entered through a door behind the counter. They climbed two flights of stairs and arrived in a room. It was Tuponili''s office. From there, he managed all his group''s operations. He worked with arms trafficking and customized drugs. The host walked over to his desk and pulled out a drawer. He pulled out a box of Cuban cigars. He lit them and swallowed them.


    He took out a bottle of whisky and prepared four shots. Before Akachi could pick up his glass, Nyatui moved his glass aside. The former sage raised an eyebrow at Azekel''s grandson. He shrugged and blushed. Even in Fenyang''s form, he was still underage.


    "Sit down, tell me how you met the Happy Prince."


    Fadala and Nyatui looked at Akachi. They hadn''t agreed on an alibi. He explained it to Tuponili:


    "He went to make a mini-documentary about mutant hyenas mating on Chrome Hill. We did a security service for him. His cameraman died, tragically."


    "They didn''t do their job well, did they? A man of the stature of the Happy Prince, in his apogee, in the middle of the bourgy? Look, who''d have thought it. Although he''s always been a culture vulture out to satisfy the vidiots on duty. Guys, you''ve got your tickets, but you''re too early for the party. I don''t usually welcome homeless people."


    Fadala was suspicious of Tuponili''s intentions. His gang shouldn''t be the only one operating in Ilu Nla''s underground.


    "You want to test our skills, don''t you?"


    "Don''t get me wrong, you''re not chrome. You don''t look like you''ve lived through a street op. Ilu Nla''s underworld is not for amateurs. You might get a few Credibits, but you''re going to have to work hard. If you manage to surprise me, I''ll book you in the tournament. You''d better know how to fight. After that, you can shit all over yourselves, I don''t care."


    The trio looked at each other. Nyatui snapped his wrists, which produced a noisy sound that caused discomfort. Fadala put out his cigarette. Akachi slapped his hands against his knees. They answered at the same time:


    "Deal!"

 Song 65: Low Tide

    Human societies have thrived around water. Whether they were born in coastal or Mesopotamian regions, the presence of water alone has made civilizations thrive. The absence of this precious resource meant that human groups continued on their semi-nomadic path. Ilu Nla was no exception.


    Born from the gatherings of various peoples on the west coast of Africa, the metropolis covers some twenty-five thousand square kilometers. Added to its suburbs and countryside, the nation is even larger. The metropolitan region emerged from an accelerated process of conurbation of four major cities.


    Bathed by the Atlantic Ocean, it has become a port region of excellence. It drained the production of raw ore from Central Africa, as well as being one of the export gateways for consumer goods. After its economic miracle twenty years ago, it became a regional hub for science and technology. Ilu Nla became the most advanced producer of military cyber technology.


    All this was protected by two aircraft carriers and a navy that watched every move. Nuclear submarines patrolled the depths of the ocean. All to guarantee the sovereignty of the metropolis.


    It was by this same sea that illegal immigrants tried to find a new life in Africa. Many remained in Ilu Nla, catering for demographic immigration. Most of them came from Western Europe, devastated by the NATO-Eurasia War, which was triggered by Russia''s invasion of Ukraine. Others came from the USA after the Texas War of Independence.


    This was the same route that Spin Bomb, Feruzi and Mashal used to enter Ilu Nla. Receiving a handsome bribe, a small group of coastguards turned a blind eye to the trio. Sympathizers of the urban guerrillas brought them to one of the ports. They were escorted safely outside. Mashal said goodbye to them.


    "Thank you, comrades. You are on the right side of history."


    "May our ancestors write their words in our present. Make the revolution!"


    Spin Bomb found the whole thing very cheesy. It sounded like a Cold War B-movie. She had never been interested in politics, and she wasn''t a very idealistic young woman. There was no point in complaining, she was up to her neck in it.


    She walked through the streets following the pair of hooded men. They were careful not to take busy roads or monitor systems. She was back in Ilu Nla, no longer as a citizen, but as an intruder. The mother country was her enemy now. She couldn''t understand or accept that. Power games made the social body the enemy of the state. The latter was the lawyer, the judge and the executioner.


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    After a long walk, they arrived at an abandoned apartment. Feruzi looked for a house with a specific mark above the door. It was a sign that there were sympathizers of the cause in that house. They found one in an old fisherman''s hut by the sea. An elderly couple lived there.


    The furniture was sparse. The place seemed squeezed by residential areas that were growing on all sides. The old couple welcomed them and prepared soup. They served the ex-sages and her with great reverence. It seemed as if they were being visited by nobles. Curious, Spin Bomb asked:


    "Thank you for the soup, it was delicious. Gentlemen, I''m sorry to ask, but why do you still live in this house? There are so many uninhabited houses in the condominiums nearby. It might be safer."


    The elderly couple smiled at their visitor''s naivety. It was the little lady who answered Spin Bomb.


    "My daughter, we appreciate your concern. My old man and I have been fishermen for many years. It''s the only life we know. The real estate agents tried to take our house. They made us absurd offers and even threatened us. We stand firm and strong, this is our place."


    "But¡­ you''re still at risk! In addition to the house, there are dangerous people who want to take it over."


    The gentleman gave a hearty laugh interspersed with coughs. His old wife came up to him and wiped his sweaty forehead with a cloth.


    "These uninhabited houses are one of our problems. The builders have received a lot of investment from the government. Many people buy four or even five houses still on the drawing board. Property prices go up day in, day out, not to mention the theft of rents. As long as Ojwang is in power, nothing will change. He and all the cretins around him are the real problem."


    "That''s why they help the guerrillas?"


    "Yes, my son said it was a waste of time. The vain hopes of two old fishermen¡­"


    The man fell silent. His eyes turned watery. He put both hands to his eyes to stop the tears coming out. His wife hugged him as if she were cradling a child. Spin Bomb didn''t want to know how much pain was hidden in that cry, but he unconsciously asked:


    "Where is he?"


    "He''s no longer with us, my child. He was one of the leaders of the local cooperative. He organized a protest against predatory fishing by some companies. The police were called in to quell the demonstrations. She died of a gunshot wound. They claimed it was a stray bullet. I''ve never liked that term. A gun doesn''t fire by itself, you need your hand to¡­"


    The woman said no more. She didn''t need to. Mashal and Feruzi, who knew the story, made no comment.


    The rest of the night was one of silence and reflection. The firework sword maker didn''t sleep. A glimmer of moonlight came through the roof of rotten beams and misaligned tiles. No matter which side of the wall she was on, violence was omnipresent. The drowsiness made the girl thirsty.


    A feeling of suffocation in her chest kept her lying down. She only found uneasy sleep at dawn. She was woken up by Mashal. The ex-sage offered her a mug of coffee. They ate coconut cookies. The man left some money for the old couple. The trio went out into the streets before the sun filled the sidewalks with its rays.


    They couldn''t stay in these places for long to avoid suspicion from the neighborhood. A single complaint that reached the right ears would put the whole movement at risk. They drove through the city until they met a sympathizer who drove an aeromobile by app. The man took the southeast route to Ilu Nla, the headquarters of the Ilu Nla Liberation Movement.

 Song 66: The Grand Arena

    Days passed until the tournament began. Akachi, Fadala and Nyatui proved worthy of the investment. Tuponili decided to manage the trio. Before taking them to the Grand Arena, he explained how the underground fighting tournament would work. The place was nothing more than a gambling club for the wealthy.


    Men and women with too many Credibits in their digital wallets and not enough brains came underground to bet on fights. More than fights, real pitched battles. Some came for the money, others for the thrill, and some even to serve Ojwang.


    This year, General Luena, the tournament''s host, changed the rules a little. This forced the agents to rethink their strategies. After all, those who won put a lot of money in their pockets, and those who lost went bankrupt in the blink of an eye. Agents would receive a fixed fee, even if they lost. It was a way of preventing agents from withdrawing from the event.


    From then on, the fights would be trios. A round of three one-on-one fights. The group that won two fights won. The agent needed three fighters to register his team. Members could be replaced along the way, it didn''t matter, as long as a trio remained.


    There were three ways to win: to make the opponent give up, to knock him out or to kill him. When he had finished these brief explanations, he turned to his team and said:


    "So, what do you think?"


    Akachi scratched his temple with his index finger. A bead of sweat trickled down the corner of his forehead.


    "It looks like a fifth division KOF¡­"


    "Yeah, the NESTS Saga¡­ hohohoho."


    "Only Nameless is any good over there."


    "That''s right! The difference is that there''s no continuing here, kid. You could die during the fight. I hope that doesn''t happen, I''m only loyal to the winners."


    Fadala took those words as a warning. Tuponili could betray them, there was no guarantee that they would be used and discarded.


    "There aren''t many rules, are there?"


    "Of course not, Fadala. These are clandestine fights. Of course, some fighters cling to their lives more than anything, giving up in the middle or even before the fight begins."


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    According to Tuponili, this tournament had sponsored a lot of Ojwang''s clandestine research. Money was pouring in. Everyone wanted to be part of the scheme, like a financial pyramid or an online casino. It was the purest entertainment after virtual prostitution.


    With this money and these relationships, he began to forge alliances with Ilu Nla''s traditional criminal factions. He included them in government posts. He created a private army with these fighters modified by cyberware and cutting-edge biotechnology, and attached them to the country''s armed forces.


    "That son of a bitch got very rich. If he''d known he''d have so much money, he''d have invested in this shit before."


    "Is it thanks to him that the underworld became what it is today?"


    "No, there were already people here when it was just an armadillo hole. He occupied the space, he knew how to make money out of it."


    Nyatui was irritated by all this admiration. He crossed his arms, tensed his muscles and asked:


    "It would be good to know how many teams there are, and get some information about them."


    "Well, Mr. Trent, there''s no Wikipedia on them, I''m sorry. When it comes to the fighters in the Grand Arena, you can''t tell the difference between information and rumors. The least subtle are the foreign teams. The Neo Axis is a self-declared neo-fascist group that seeks to assert superiority and resume the plan for eternal war."


    "I thought this far-right thing was out of fashion."


    "I don''t think it is."


    "Why do the organizers allow such people to participate, Mr. Tuponili?"


    "There are punters all over the world, Mr. Trent. There are people interested in financing their ideologies, whatever they may be, in any space. They believe that here is an ideal platform to propagate their ideals of strength and racial superiority."


    Fadala made a gesture with his fingers, as if he were firing a gun. He looked Tuponili in the eye and sneered:


    "They seem to be an interesting group¡­ what amazes me most is not what they stand for, but that they still cling to some kind of ideology in this shitty world we live in."


    "You are a philosopher. Regardless of what they propagate, they are very dangerous. Among them, there is a German serial killer who is addicted to inoculating people with poison, Pestzart. They say there is a former yakuza among them, the ninja named Tora-Tora. And last but not least, the Greco-Roman style fighter, Caesar VXII."


    "Is there another foreign group besides that?"


    "Yes, there is! There''s another group of foreigners just as strange. They''re Americans, I think. Arcenaux LeBlanc was a decorated Seal, he fought for the US in the Texas War of Independence. He became a mercenary, but they say that''s just a front to hide his true intentions. The second member of the team is Lady Bloody Mary, a Breton countess. The last is a burly guy called Eniac II. He''s a three-meter-tall cyborg! That''s going to be a tough one."


    "Are there mediums in this tournament?"


    "Yes, Fadala. Many, they even say that the Circle of Sages will play a part in the tournament. I want to see how the Phalanx will act. If you have no more doubts, we''d better go."


    The trio agreed. Tuponili led them to a wagon. From there they would go to the Grand Arena. The subway car was customized. It had a bathroom, upholstered seats, terminals for accessing the cyberverse, and a bar. The criminal boss picked up a bottle of Go?ts de Diamant, filled a glass and drank.


    "I could offer it to you gentlemen, but you''d better stay sober for the first few rounds, hohohoho."


    Akachi reflected on all the madness. When he was living in a hospital bed, he never imagined that all this was happening in Ilu Nla. War between criminal factions, a world of underground fighting beneath the metropolis, political feuds between cybersoldiers and mediums. It was a lot of information for him to digest.


    At the center of it all were the Seven Keys of the Spirit. Mystical artifacts that emanate the Divine Power of Fante Obataiye. Taking part in the tournament had been his idea. He didn''t measure the risks he would be taking. He acted on intuition, but in an ill-considered way. He could only count on the help of his companions. The tournament would be more than a fight, it would be a war.

 Song 67: Duel of lancers

    Tuponili headed for the Grand Arena box. He glimpsed the place with unbridled pleasure. The stadium was built in the shape of a crescent, like the ancient Greek amphitheaters. At the back, a huge screen was used to show reports and holoprojections. The ring was an extensive square, one meter above ground level.


    When the two combatants climbed into the ring, a transparent cover descended over the ring. The square became a cube. From inside, one could only emerge victorious or defeated. The past and future of the fighters didn''t matter in there. Everyone was there for the spectacle of watching a fight with no rules.


    The criminal leader passed through the search and accessed the agents'' box. It was on the left side of the amphitheater, in the last rows, in a separate area. Inside, there were other agents, a bar and prostitutes. A holoprojection showed how the betting rate was and in which group. Metrics were produced to facilitate the gambling, which on several occasions were exceeded by the underdog fighters.


    The man looked for a comfortable seat, accompanied only by a bodyguard. Not that he needed to defend himself against anyone. General Luena had forbidden any kind of violence between the agents in the Grand Arena. Their differences had to be resolved outside. That didn''t stop him from being approached by his greatest rival.


    "What do you know, Tuponili, you''re still alive! Hahahahaha."


    A man with a turban and dry, yellowish skin appeared alongside two beautiful women. It was Thabit, the leader of an Islamic fundamentalist terrorist organization that operated throughout the Sahel. The terrorist leader carried out a bomb attack on Tuponili, but the latter survived unharmed.


    "Your men have lost their timing, they no longer know how to provoke terror."


    "You''re an infidel. Don''t worry, there will be others. Come on, let''s sit down."


    "Who did you manage?"


    "I''ve decided to make a different bet this time, I''m managing the members of Neo Axis. What about you, Tuponili? I hear your team is very professional."


    "Yeah, that''s them over there. Fenyang, Mr. Trent and Fadala."


    "Fadala is it? I''m not unfamiliar with that name."


    The trio of fighters climbed into the ring. There were eight teams. Some fighters were frightened by all the media hype. Others seemed to enjoy it, posing for the camera-drones that were filming them. Their faces appeared on the big screen in the background. Each group was announced, along with the names of their managers.


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    Akachi observed his surroundings. As described by Tuponili, he immediately recognized the foreigners. They were the most disparate people in the scene. But another group caught his eye, a group of cloaks with earthy-colored hoods. They wore terracotta masks, with props made of conches, bones, horns and straw. Similar to those used in ancient rites. As he looked at them, what seemed to be the leader stared back at him. Akachi shuddered.


    "Nyatui, Fadala, those guys are high-level mediums. They''re suppressing your Ax¨¦, but I can still feel it."


    Nyatui turned his wide neck back. He had also noticed that trio.


    "The only enemies that give me any chills are the mediums, Akachi."


    "Don''t be so reckless, Nyatui. We''d better not underestimate these fighters."


    After the presentations, the draw for the group brackets took place. The arrangement was as follows:


    Left Wing


    1st match ?Akachi, Nyatui and Fadala vs. Shomari, Waitimu and Hawa


    2nd Match ? Bloody Mary, Eniac II and Arcenoux LeBlanc vs. Njora, Mwita and Tan


    Right wing


    3rd Match ? Okan, Eji and Meta vs. Nyota, Olabunmi and Shakarri


    4th Match ? C¨¦sar VXII, Tora-Tora and Pestzart vs. Wanda, Tsehai and Ali Omar Khalid


    The draw only determined which groups would fight. The decision as to which fighters would step into the ring was up to the agents, out of the spotlight. This added to the unpredictability.


    For the first fight, Tuponili chose Mr. Trent, an alias used by Nyatui. He considered him the most experienced of the team. The other agent selected Waitimu, also a spear user. The odds were in Waitimu''s favor, he was a famous warrior of the Kikuyu people. He had a trump card, an ancient treasure that would cause his opponent great difficulties.


    On orders from the organizers, the others withdrew and took seats at the edge of the ring. Nyatui and Waitimu stood facing each other. The kikuyu wore traditional clothes, a tunic tied with belts and bundles to the body. His earlobes were shaped like huge craters. Ritualistic war paintings filled his face and bust.


    In one hand, he carried a spear and a wooden shield reinforced with cowhide and feathers. He slammed the pewter spear into the ground and let out a war cry. The ceiling and walls of the ring came down and closed. The signal to start the fight was given. Nyatui materialized his spear. The kikuyu was impressed.


    "The rumors were true, Ilu Nla mediums are like sorcerers."


    "Ax¨¦ modeling is one of the most basic skills of our mediumistic arts."


    "Basic or not, it''s still impressive."


    Waitimu waved the spear above his head several times. Nyatui felt the air around him heat up. The tip of the spear began to flame. Not just any flame, but a flame that burned supernaturally, as if it were alive. The lancer swung the weapon and slammed it into the shield, causing the embers to fall on Nyatui.


    He rolled off the ground. The flames kept burning, consuming everything like some kind of acid. The ex-sage sensed a huge danger coming from his opponent.


    "I see I''m not the only mage in the Grand Arena."


    "Hohoho, this is Jomo, the ''Spear of Fire'', in your language. In my village, it is a treasure guarded for ages. Only the strongest warrior can wield it. It was given to us by Mwene Nyaga."


    "Isn''t it too risky to carry a treasure as big as that around?"


    "Unfortunately, I have no choice. My people need me. If I don''t get a lot of money, my people will lose their land in Kenya. A mining company wants to dispossess our land to mine rubies, without any compensation. With the money, I can buy state land. My country needs this wealth, but my people need the land even more. Kikuyu don''t eat rubies!"


    Waitimu lunged at Nyatui with a stocky blow. He aimed for his solar plexus. The last words had motivated him to attack his opponent even harder.


    m to attack his opponent even harder.

 Song 68: Burning to the ground!

    Jomo passed close to Nyatui''s head, which he narrowly avoided by centimeters. He didn''t come out of the attack entirely unscathed. Waitimu turned the spear and the tip burst into flames. The medium tried to dodge, overbalanced and fell backwards onto the ground. The kikuyu pointed the weapon at his opponent and gestured for him to get up. He wouldn''t attack a defenseless enemy.


    The ex-sage stood up. He moved away from the wall and set himself up as a base of attack. His opponent nodded. With enviable speed, the two engaged in a sequence of blows. Nyatui''s spear smashed into his opponent''s shield without doing him any damage.


    Waitimu shook Jomo and applied a cross blow. The medium defended himself against the attack. However, his opponent made the blade burn once again. An explosion of flames hit Nyatui''s left temple. Part of his face was injured. He rolled on the ground and put out the flames with his bare hands. The burns burned with excruciating pain.


    He stood up once more. He ran towards his opponent and landed a horizontal blow. The other put Jomo upright, blade up. Nyatui lowered his head. With the strength of his arms, he threw the kikuyu away. Waitimu pointed the spear in the direction he had been thrown to stop his body.


    Jomo''s flames increased like a rocket turbine. It propelled him forward. With his shield in front of his body, he struck Nyatui. The medium put his spear on the crossbar and planted his feet on the floor of the ring so as not to be thrown backwards. His opponent realized that this alone would not be enough. He increased the intensity of the flames. He leapt into the air and prepared a knee strike to hit Nyatui''s neck.


    " Measuring Value: Evaluation¡­"


    The psychic grabbed his enemy''s shin with one hand. He spun around and threw the enemy spearman in the opposite direction.


    "''Negation of Value."


    Waitimu slammed his back against the wall next to the screen. The audience, who had been excited by the fight, rose from their seats and celebrated as if it were a goal. The kikuyu stood up with Jomo''s blade burning furiously. He realized that his opponent had recovered from his injuries.


    "Come on, Mr. Trent, don''t let the crowd get bored."


    A drop of blood dripped from under his mask. Despite being weaker than at the start of the fight, Jomo''s fire was even more intense.


    "I recognize your value as a warrior, Waitimu, but I can''t let you win. There''s an even bigger reason why I''m here."


    "If the fight is fair, that is, if we fight with everything we''ve got, I don''t care what the outcome is. The fire of Jomo burns according to the spirit of its bearer. The greater the flames of Jomo, the more determined the warrior is in pursuit of victory."


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    "This fight has gone beyond personal interests, hasn''t it?"


    "Yes, now we''re trying to prove to each other which soul is hotter."


    The kikuyu raised his spear above his head. He drove it into the ground like a hammer, flush! A wave of flames spread across the ground. Like a volcano spewing lava, several waves of flames were emitted around Waitimu. Only the one-meter diameter where the spearman was standing was not hit by the fire.


    Everything burned, the floor of the ring and its walls softened by the heat. They looked melted. The atmosphere became heated. Sweat poured down the kikuyu''s body. To his surprise, Nyatui was nowhere to be seen. He raised his head. He was startled. Clutching the spear stuck in the ceiling was the medium. He had escaped the fire.


    "It''s not possible?"


    "It was close, Waitimu. Now I have to put an end to it. Queen Dalji who wields the spear that destroys armies. Lady of war who has extended her dominion over the four cardinal points. Show your mastery to those who have not witnessed your greatness! Firm your spirit."


    Part of the ceiling burst. With her Ori Guardian incorporated, Nyatui descended with her blade pointed at her opponent. The kikuyu placed his shield in front of his body. The tip of the ex-sage''s spear pierced through the defense and hit the enemy''s ribs on the left side. His weapon hit the ground.


    "You used your shield to deflect my spear from your vital points."


    "Hohoho, don''t play dumb. I think you missed on purpose to spare me."


    "Don''t underestimate yourself so much, Waitimu."


    "Why, you¡­"


    He held Nyatui''s spear with both hands. It rippled through the muscles of his body. Little by little, he suspended his enemy in the air. With the muscles in his arms creaking, and using his ribs to support some of the weight, he supported the medium with one hand and with the other, he grabbed Jomo and struck. Despite his efforts, he was unable to hit his opponent. The ex-sage dematerialized the spear, which knocked Waitimu off balance.


    Nyatui held the enemy weapon under his armpit. With his free hand, he reshaped his spear at Kikuyu''s neck. Everything seemed to have ended there. Waitimu hadn''t given up the fight.


    "You shouldn''t hold something that burns."


    Jomo went up in flames. Nyatui released her and kicked her enemy in the stomach. The kikuyu was thrown away. The impact wasn''t enough to defeat him. He turned the spear several times and a flaming sphere appeared on the blade. He applied several thrusts in the air. It was like glowing embers leaping out of a fire.


    Countless fireballs were thrown in the medium''s direction. With his gun, he batted them away or cut them down. The fireballs hit the wall and emitted flames like fireworks. Waitimu changed his strategy and concentrated his fire into a huge burst. It was as if a high-magnitude flamethrower was being used.


    The blast became a whirlwind of flames. In the center of it, Nyatui spun the spear from side to side, as if it were a propeller. This caused the flames to be redirected. Finally, they were extinguished.


    Waitimu took two steps back. Few occasions had forced him to use his full potential. No one had ever resisted Jomo''s power. But that warrior standing in front of him seemed oblivious to his power. The ex-sage set off, and with a spear blow to the kikuyu''s neck, he won the fight. To everyone''s surprise, the attack had not been deadly. Instead of striking with the blade, it hit him with the handle. Enough to knock him out.


    With sweat dripping from his face, a drone declared Trent the winner. The crowd gave him a standing ovation, it had been an excellent fight. The cubic ceiling was raised. Nyatui climbed out of the ring. A medical team entered the arena and attended to the kikuyu. The winner walked over to Akachi and Fadala. Adisa''s son congratulated his partner.


    "Don''t get too excited, you''ll be next. They''re taking this very seriously, and it''s good to do the same."


    He turned to the screen; the new fighters had already been chosen. Akachi would be fighting the beautiful Hawa, a Massai archer.

 Song 69: On target

    Above the big screen in the Grand Arena, where the reports were shown, there was a false wall. It was armored glass that made it possible to see everything that was happening below. This was where the organizer of the event, General Luena, stood. She only presented herself to the public with a holoprojection of her bust.


    Inside this secret room, a team monitored the betting rate, drew lots for the fights, gave the starting signal and the declaration of victory. Sitting on a seat with an electromagnetic axis, the military woman floated from side to side when she wanted to check some metric.


    Despite the smaller number of fighters and days, there had been a record number of subscribers and bettors. The figures had already hit billions of Credibits in the first half hour before the first fight. The only thing she was unhappy about was the absence of Akachi and his companions. After a long series of tortures on Yasini, she extracted information about Adisa''s son. The tortured man was then handed over to General Jitujeusi.


    His bad mood dissolved with the results of the first confrontation. He activated a panel and the cubic ceiling and floor of the ring were replaced. They were completely destroyed by Jomo''s flames. After that, the other two fighters entered the ring, and the ceiling closed in on them. She watched the two of them facing each other.


    "Hawa, that name is not unfamiliar to me..."


    One of the operators heard his general''s question. Without turning his face from the screen, he described some information:


    "Hawa, member of the Massai people of Tanzania. Military leader of his village, he fought against landowners and rival peoples. His war tactics allowed his people to protect themselves from invaders."


    "Wait, that''s the same archer who broke the archery world record at the last Olympics. I didn''t know that Massai women devoted themselves to martial arts and war, hunhunhunhun."


    "That''s true, my general. But after so many local conflicts, the social dynamics changed because of the war. Because they needed extra arms, women ended up getting involved."


    All this was true. Hawa was a young Masai who practiced archery away from the public eye. This was covered up by Shomari, his older brother, the Masai stick warrior. Ironically, a scout from the Tanzanian Ministry of Sports saw her training in hiding, offered her a scholarship and summoned her to train.


    The start was difficult. There was resistance from her community, her parents and even other athletes. For a while, she disbelieved in her own abilities. Only her coach and her brother continued to believe in her. Until she was able to go to the Olympics, became a gold medalist, broke records and achieved fame. When she returned home, nothing had changed. Her people were still impoverished and at constant war.


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    He abandoned sport and embraced war. Through his influence, he began to bring together the various Masai villages in Tanzania and Kenya. The state intervened with force of arms, the Masai responded with arrows.


    ?


    Akachi stood facing Hawa. He felt uncomfortable. That firm gaze reminded him of Spin Bomb.


    The young Massai woman was wearing a green and red sleeveless dress. She was tall and slender. Her hair was shaved. She wore various adornments such as necklaces, earrings and bracelets made of braided straw, seeds and small copper triangles. Her bow reached the height of her breasts, and her quiver was made from a collage of bovine horns.


    Akachi drew his two sticks. As soon as the signal for the fight was given, Hawa drew an arrow and drew his bow. She didn''t shoot. She remained static with the string taut. Azekel''s grandson waited for the attack, and it didn''t come. Fenyang appeared behind him like a shadow.


    The best way to fight an archer is to reduce the distance as much as possible.


    Yes, bro, but archers aren''t usually defensive. In hand-to-hand combat, they have a disadvantage.


    What''s that, Fenyang?


    Their posture is fixed and their movements repetitive. This makes them vulnerable to close-range attacks. They can''t defend themselves with their hands, otherwise they''ll get screwed!


    She''s planning something. She seems to be timing herself, babbling quietly...


    Use your speed, bro. Attack from the flanks. Don''t let that piranha woman shoot you.


    The young medium ran so fast that it was only possible to make out his figure. Even when zig-zagging, Hawa''s eyes were still on him. Akachi emerged from the left flank. He tried to apply an upward blow. The target was the ribs below the armpit. This would immobilize one of the young massai''s arms. Before he could apply the attack, his opponent squirmed incomprehensibly.


    The enemy arrow was aimed at Akachi''s chest. The audience was shocked, as was the medium. The combatants stood still.


    "You''re mine!"


    As he said this, Hawa fired the arrow at point-blank range. Akachi concentrated a field of repulsive force in the area. The makeshift shield protected him from being shot in the chest. Despite this, the impact of the arrow threw him a distance.


    Akachi rose from the ground. His use of contortion to defend himself against close-range attacks had taken him by surprise. He wouldn''t give in. Hawa maintained his self-confident posture. His eyes did not stray from those of his target. This caused the fighter anguish. It was as if he was going to take an arrow at any moment.


    What is it doing?


    She must be accumulating kinetic energy. I counted the time she spent twitching the bowstring, it was one minute and forty seconds.


    Let''s distract her and attack from behind. Instead of attacking with the sticks, I''ll use my repulsion. Only then will I hit her full on.


    Hawa continued counting. For every second, she added a percentage to the kinetic energy used in a normal shot. The maximum speed of an arrow was two hundred and fifty kilometers per hour, or 155.343 miles per hour. For every one percent accumulated, one tenth of a second was added to the arrow''s speed. At one hundred percent, the total speed was two thousand five hundred kilometers per hour.


    I can shoot an arrow at a speed close to Mach 2, twice the speed of sound. He won''t be able to dodge or defend himself.


    Akachi concentrated his Ax¨¦ on his legs. He applied repulsive force under the ring floor. Fragments rose into the sky. He concentrated force on the two sticks and attacked. Hawa did not remain inert, but responded with a second arrow.

 Song 70: Beyond the mountains

    Hawa twisted the arrow in his bow. She used such force that the string vibrated a musical note, and the bow seemed to crack. The young woman exhaled all the air from her lungs. At the moment of the shot, she was holding her breath. The cool breeze of thin air fluttered her student robes. He released the arrow.


    It spiraled through the air with a hiss and hit a straw dummy on the other side. Clap-clap, she turned to see who was congratulating her. It was Shomari, he had returned from his initiation ritual. Now he was a man. He looked weak, he had passed several tests. Her eyes filled with tears. The massai dropped her bow and ran towards her relative. The two embraced.


    "You scared me, Shomari. Lucky for you, I hit the target before I saw you."


    "I thank Enkai for that."


    "Now you can perform the ceremonial rites and have a wife, own your manyata..."


    Shomari''s brow furrowed. She huffed, walked lazily and sat down on a rock. He stared at his brother from above, as his Posed his rungu under his chin. He looked despondent in his younger sister''s eyes.


    "What do you see around you, Hawa?"


    ¡°Mountains, grass, our Enkang¡­ if you narrow your eyes, you can see Kenya. Am I wrong? Our land? Oh! Why are you upset?¡±


    ¡°Tsk-tsk, aren¡¯t you curious about what¡¯s beyond these mountains?¡±


    "I don''t know."


    For Hawa, her brother felt unhappy living there. His thoughts were always distant, as if he wandered off to another place. This had happened after he received formal education. He had become enchanted by the world beyond his rustic kraal, with its low ceilings and walls made of wood, cow dung, and acacia sticks.


    The young Maasai was afraid. She knew the tradition, and she curbed her curiosity about the outside world. She could not tear herself away from the teachings of her Laibon, her father and spiritual leader of her village. She had wanted to compete in archery competitions in the regional qualifiers. She had given up even before signing up. She did not consider herself worthy, nor ready to compete for a place on the podium. It all came down to fear.


    ¡°Little sister, do you remember when the German missionary came to visit us?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I remember, dad and him argued for hours about religion, hihihihi.¡±


    ¡°True, but that¡¯s not what stuck in my memory. He said that the mountains were a staircase to reach God. But for both of us, they are prison walls.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t talk like that, Shomari! It¡¯s blasphemy.¡±


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    ¡°Don¡¯t pretend you don¡¯t think so too.¡±


    ¡°You changed a lot after you learned to read and write.¡±


    ¡°I would change even more if they hadn¡¯t taken me out of school, damn it, Hawa!¡±


    He stood up from where he was standing abruptly. This scared the archer. It wasn''t like him to have explosive reactions. He was a kind boy, he had always treated her well.


    ¡°You wield this bow and arrow because you can no longer stand being tied to this ¡®tradition¡¯. Otherwise, I would be helping the older ones build a kraal, or farming, I don¡¯t know.¡±


    The Masai pretended not to listen to her brother. She picked up another arrow from the ground. She tightened the rope in that vibrant way.


    ¡°You are the most talented archer I know, that''s why I gave you my bow. I hid your training from Dad all these years. Don''t be afraid to practice archery. Go to the damn selection. Win the championship, not for me, not for our people, but for you. Do something that makes you happy without meeting anyone¡¯s expectations.¡±


    Shomari turned away. He walked towards the village with the heavy steps of someone who feels very angry. Hawa did not turn around, nor did she say goodbye to him. He closed his eyes. He released his fingers. The arrow rushed towards the target.


    ?


    The Masai''s arrow hit Akachi. Azekel''s grandson placed the two sticks in front of his body, with the ends together, forming a V. The impact threw him into the wall. A huge explosion occurred, and raised a curtain of debris. Even with all the armor of the translucent wall, the arrow, at high speed, caused enormous damage.


    The dust particles settled. Much to Hawa''s surprise. Akachi was alive and without a scratch. To the side, about two meters away, a huge hole had been generated in the massive wall. The Maasai archer''s arms and legs trembled.


    The young medium wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his right hand. He was panting as if he had undergone enormous physical effort.


    ¡°How¡­ how did you escape? I have never missed the target in my entire life.¡±


    ¡°Everything has its first time. I confess, if that arrow had hit me, I would have lost the fight.¡±


    Good one, my boy! The same time it took her to accumulate kinetic force, you used to concentrate Ax¨¦ on the sticks. Then he created a convex-shaped repulsive force field. This deflected the arrow.


    You made it look so easy, Fenyang. Look what that thing did to the wall. I had to concentrate Ax¨¦ so much on my arms and legs that my muscles are hurting.


    What matters is that it worked. Stay strong, the race isn''t over yet.


    ¡°Fenyang, isn¡¯t it? I can''t lose to you. Without the money I can win in this tournament, I will not be able to sustain the resistance of my people. We will continue to lose our herds, our lands and our lives.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t judge your purposes, nor anyone else¡¯s here. However, I also can¡¯t afford to lose¡­¡±


    Hawa didn''t wait for him to finish his sentence. He gave up the force of the impact of the arrows. He charged in a rapid and continuous flurry of arrows. Each time he shot, the bowstring made a low acoustic bass sound.


    Akachi didn''t counter the Masai''s arrows, he used his super speed to dodge. They stuck into the wall and floor of the ring, causing small craters. They buried themselves up to the middle due to Hawa''s strength. The arrows decreased as did the distance between the two combatants. Before the last arrow was fired, the medium was so close that the arrowhead almost touched him.


    A cracking sound echoed in the air. Hawa''s bow bent and broke. His eyes widened. She loosened her fingers. The arrow fell to the ground. Then her arms dropped. The public was amazed at the outcome of the fight. His mouth opened slowly, and she whispered:


    "I quit¡­"


    The audience went delirious. The big screen declared Fenyang''s victory. The cubic roof rose. Akachi gave her his hand, however, the young woman fought back. Shomari came to the ring and supported her, and helped her out of the ring. The young Maasai looked back and said:


    ¡°I don¡¯t need your pity. Assume your victory, just as I assumed my defeat.¡±


    And to think that that day I also missed the target¡­


    The medium took two steps back. Even without understanding anything, Akachi left the ring. He went towards his companions. Fadala said:


    ¡°Great, we got two wins in a row. We are already in the next phase of the tournament.¡±


    Even so, he would need to get into the ring and declare a withdrawal. It was a way that the organizers had found to encourage all fights to take place. The undertaker didn''t want to fight and show off his skills. Nyatui realized the ruse, grabbed the assassin by the collar, spun twice and threw him into the ring.

 Song 71: The fight has begun

    Fadala was thrown into the ring. He rolled around the arena awkwardly, overbalanced and fell backwards onto the floor. He stared at the ceiling and the damn camera-drone as if it were a blowfly. His contracted face was broadcast on the big screen. The audience laughed at the shooter. It made him even angrier.


    That idiot! Doesn''t he know what strategy is? We''ve already won two fights, I don''t need to reveal my skills to future opponents.


    "Wake up to spit! The fight has already begun."


    A dark figure appeared in the air. In a matter of seconds, the enemy attacked. The assassin managed to break free and get to his feet immediately afterwards. The spot where Fadala had been standing cracked with the impact of the blow.


    Shomari was in Massai garb. A red tunic was draped over her right shoulder, and a checkered blanket covered her body like a cape. Her earlobes were enlarged. Her hair was very short and dark. She wore brass bracelets. Under his feet, sandals with recycled tire soles and goat leather straps.


    The mortician noticed that his opponent was carrying the traditional mass weapons, the rungu and the staff. Unlike the other rungu, made of carved wood, his was made of bronze. It was a type of staff used for attacking and throwing. The handle had a slight curve, it thickened towards the tip, which ended in a massive sphere. The staff was a thin stick, also made of bronze, more flexible and with a pointed end.


    "Your group won the round, but our fight hasn''t been decided yet."


    Fadala raised an arm, the audience was stunned. Shomari gritted his teeth, furious.


    "I¡­"


    Zump, Shomari threw the rungu at Fadala''s head. The assassin shielded himself by drawing his firearm, knocking back the bronze projectile. The rungu returned to Shomari''s hand. Fadala kept the pair of pistols with the safety catch and held them by the barrel. He was going to fight back with the butt of his gun.


    "What? Don''t hold back, Fadala. When you put me in this ring, you knew that any weapon could be used. The only rule here is to win and give the audience a good show. Do you think that if I were unarmed I would give up my weapons to fight you? Come with everything you''ve got!"


    The style of fighting with Massai sticks, unlike what many Westerners have established, is sophisticated. The use of two weapons of different sizes and shapes allows them a variety of blows. They can attack and defend themselves at close and medium range.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    To get around one of their weaknesses, the durability of their weapons, Shomari had them made from bronze. He systematized the techniques and perfected them in clandestine rings around the world. He now considered himself to have the most advanced and lethal style of massai stick fighting in the world.


    With his staff, he applied a horizontal blow. He aimed for Fadala''s knee. The assassin raised his leg and was hit in the shin. The pain was excruciating. The speed of the weapon hit him like a whip. The mortician stepped back. His leg was throbbing with pain. He had no time to recover.


    Shomari attacked with a transversal blow with the rungu. His target was the shoulder. His opponent crossed his pistols and parried the attack in time. The massai applied pressure. With his free hand, he repeatedly struck his thigh with the stick. The pain was so great that the area went numb. Exhausted, Fadala kicked him in the stomach.


    The Masai warrior fell a long distance. Shomari stood up with a broad smile on his face.


    "You should have shot me when you had the chance."


    The Ila Apanyan man''s face twitched. He tried to walk, to no avail. His leg was paralyzed. Fadala understood what had happened. The consecutive attacks had reduced the blood circulation in his leg, which had dehydrated the area. Shomari had forced her body to cramp.


    She tried to walk a single step, but her muscles contracted more forcefully. She didn''t move a single step. She gave up making any effort to do so.


    What a dangerous man¡­


    Shomari took advantage of Fadala''s static appearance and tried to hit his elbow with her staff. As soon as his opponent made a break for it, he would crack his head with the rungu. His plan was anticipated by the assassin. He made the stick fit the trigger of one of the pistols, and wrapped the massai''s arm around his neck, choking him.


    The two of them went toe-to-toe. Shomari was getting the better of him. He was running out of air. Purple veins were popping out of his neck. With his rungu, he hit Fadala''s arm at the elbow. He sought to break the joint. This would give him a huge advantage in the contest. He landed one, two, three consecutive blows.


    At this point, Fadala was raising his arm, and the most the other man could hit was the upper arm. This punished his humerus. Finally, Shomari let go of the stick and jabbed his opponent in the stomach to push him away. The man, his leg still cramping, overbalanced and fell.


    The warrior raised his rungu like a hammer with both hands and struck the final blow. Fadala knew how dependent fighters who used weapons were on them.


    Unlike the Il¨º Apanyan assassins for hire, who learned every style of martial arts to the point where their bodies became weapons, experts in some kind of weaponry were at the mercy of a hand-to-hand fight. On this occasion, they could only rely on their brute strength. Which is not always an effective solution in combat.


    The rungu hit the floor with a thud, but didn''t hit Fadala, who dodged at the last moment. In a quick counterattack, he dropped both pistols. The assassin separated one of Shomari''s arms and applied a Kimura Sweep. With one hand, he grabbed his opponent''s wrist. With his other arm, he held his shoulder. His cramped leg compressed his opponent''s stomach, and the other was placed around the massai''s waist.


    The other warrior tried as hard as he could to break away from his opponent''s blow. The more he struggled, the more he was trapped in that deadly embrace. The variation of the jiu-jitsu technique proved effective in submitting his opponent. Even with all his muscles tensed, Shomari couldn''t escape. She collapsed on the ground.


    Fadal stood up. The big screen displayed his name in bold letters with the word ''Winner'' underneath. He picked up his pistols from the floor. He left the ring with a limp on one leg. He saw the paramedics pull Shomari out. The assassin went to his teammates, prepared a herbal cigarette and waited for the next fight to start.

 Song 72: Safari the other way around

    Arcenoux LeBlanc, Bloody Mary and Eniac II watched the first round uneasily, although they didn''t show it. The most restless spirit was the English countess.


    "That man is joking, if he took this fight more seriously, he would have shot that damn massai."


    She looked like a woman from the Victorian period, taken to the future by H.G. Wells'' time machine. Her skin was very pale. She had deep circles under her eyes, as if she never slept. Her lipstick looked like a smear of blood. Her hair fell black and straight like a shroud. A felt hat with long, pointed brims covered it. The leather corset slimmed her waist, making her look sexy.


    She looked like a young urban goth, but her years were countless. Witchcraft had granted her youth in exchange for a few sacrifices, as well as the spotlight of the English authorities. So that her talents wouldn''t go to waste, she was invited, or rather blackmailed, into joining MI6, the UK Intelligence Service.


    At her side, no less concerned about how the tournament was going, was the ex-SEAL. Leaning back in his chair, his arms resting on his neck, he chewed on a matchstick.


    "He''s using this ploy to avoid showing his vrai abilities.  Il ''s ingenious, mai si je were him, je''d do pareil."


    Arcenoux had plenty of experience in infiltration, he knew how to be subtle. He acted as a fake bounty hunter, but was actually acting on orders from the CIA. He was one of the most experienced agents in black ops, high-risk missions that carried out dirty work on behalf of the US government.


    The bounty hunter was born in Lake Arthur, Louisiana. His curly brown hair was tucked under a dark cowboy hat. His mature face was covered in freckles and his eyes were bright green and vivid. His pointed goatee gave the impression that his face was longer. He was slim and tall. He wore a small dark vest and ripped knee-length jeans. His boots with silver spurs turned with every step he took.


    The fight between Fadala and Shomari ended with the undertaker winning. The screen was split in half. On each side, three squares were printed with the faces of those selected for the round. The members of the Anglo-American Alliance looked at their opponents. They noticed that there was a child among their opponents.


    Arcenoux was chosen by his manager. The English noblewoman hid a small smile behind her black silk gloves. The child called Tan was chosen to face him. The bounty hunter rose from his chair, annoyed.


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    "Ah! je don''t envie to babysit.  Je''ll va and donner up."


    "Don''t do that, Mr. Arcenoux, you''ll arouse suspicion."


    Arcenoux looked at his cyborg companion. His face, half robotized, with a red lens in place of his left eye, gave away his man-machine hybrid nature. He was three meters tall, the result of an operation that gave him a bio-metallic endo-skeleton, and muscles lined with intelligent nano-filament fabrics that made his body stronger and more resistant than any other human being.


    He concealed his many scars with a long overcoat zipped up to his navel. His clawed hands protruded from the torn cuffs of his overcoat like bear claws. His moss-green camouflage pants and polished leather long boots gave him a militarized look.


    "I don''t aimer killing children, our superiors know joliment bien that je don''t get involved dans missions aimer that."


    "He''s not an ordinary child."


    "What do vous mean?"


    As if he were an automaton at a station serving information to customers, Eniac II declared in an inhuman way:


    "Codename: Tan. Sex: male. Age: unknown. Origin: Botswana. Member of the Tswana people, bio-sculpted warrior with leonine genome traits. Simulating combat between Arcenoux and Tan. Chance of victory for Arcenoux in a hand-to-hand fight, zero percent chance¡­"


    "All right, non more simulations! Vous know how to cheer up a compatriot, don''t vous, Eniac II?"


    "Thank you, sir. I''m happy to be of service."


    Arcenoux rolled his eyes. He took his Colt 1892 revolver out of its holster, removed the six bullets and included a clear-tipped projectile with a yellowish liquid inside.


    "Don''t underestimate the enemy just because he looks like a child."


    "Shut up, Mr.  Eniac II.  Vous''re a terrible motivational coach."


    The Cajun gunfighter headed towards the ring. On the other side was a young man of no more than thirteen. He wore the typical Tswana costume: a tshega that covered his waist, and a kaross, a sheepskin covering, with a dyed print made in bas-relief on the hair of the garment. Brown leather bracelets and leggings completed her outfit.


    He had two round, furry ears on top of his head. His hair was disheveled, giving him a wild look. His pupils were a vertical slit, like those of the savannah cats. He had a restless manner.


    "I thought you weren''t coming, meow."


    "You''re a lion, shouldn''t vous roar?"


    "You''re right, sir, the king can''t be respected if he doesn''t really perform."


    As he said this, the young man got down on all fours on the ground. He underwent a metamorphosis that astonished the gunman. Tan''s muscles contracted beneath his skin. His limbs grew. His hair became a mane and a lion''s tail emerged from under his tshega. His hands became retractable claws. The result of the gene activation was that he became twice as big as a normal lion.


    "Shall we play? How about cat and mouse?"


    "No, thank vous."


    Bang! Arcenoux shot him in the shoulder. The bullet didn''t penetrate beyond the muscle layer of Tan''s shoulder. The bio-sculpture nibbled on the bullet and spat it out onto the ground.


    "What is that, a mosquito bite?"


    This tranquilizer dart puts a rhinoceros to sommeil dans less than cinq seconds.  Il doesn¡¯t seem to have any effect sur lions.  Je guess je should have holstered my revolver¡­ glup.


    Tan jumped on the bounty hunter as if he were a zebra, an easy prey to be shot.

 Song 73: Cat and rat

    "HELP!"


    It was impossible to keep my composure as I watched the scene. Arcenoux was running in circles with Tan in his wake. With his hands outstretched in the air and emitting high-pitched shrieks, he was running away from the retractable claws of the Tswana predator.


    Countess Bloody Mary and Eniac II hid their faces. They were too embarrassed to watch the scene. Irritated, she squawked:


    "What does that ignoramus think you''re doing?"


    "Embarrassing yourself, madam."


    "Let''s pretend we don''t know you, Mr. Eniac II."


    "That''s correct, ma''am."


    The bio-sculpted man roared and jumped on the gunman. At first, he was amused by the standoff. After the spectators started laughing at the situation, he became irritated. He felt he was making a fool of himself.


    "Come on and fight like a man."


    The mercenary refused to comply with his opponent''s request and sped up his run even more. Tan tensed every muscle in his body, waited for the right moment and leapt towards Arcenoux. With his back against the transparent wall, the cajun had nowhere else to run or retreat. He raised his revolver and pointed it at the Tswana boy''s muzzle.


    Tan slid a few centimeters, but stopped next to Arcenoux. The firearm was an unexpected element. He put both arms to his face in self-defense. Tlic...


    "What, you don''t have any bullets?"


    The American kicked his opponent in the stomach. The impact made Tan lean forward. Arcenoux stepped on the bio-sculpted man''s left knee and used the momentum to kick him under the chin. The feliform fell backwards onto the ground. It got up with some difficulty. It licked its claws and roared:


    "Why didn''t you fight for real before, foreigner?"


    "Strength? Vous borrow il from another b¨ºte species thanks to biotechnology. There are advantages, mai there''s pacane to be fier of dans being bio-sculpted."


    "Who do you think you are to talk to me like that, you cretin? You don''t know what I''ve been through in my life. Thanks to this power, I was able to free myself from my kidnappers. Don''t underestimate my strength."


    Arcenoux had no idea of the pain Tan was carrying. But he understood where it came from. Intelligence agencies were familiar with the African dilemma of children being kidnapped by criminal factions and terrorist groups. These young people, most of them men, were turned into killing machines.


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    Whether as cyborgs or bio-sculpted like Tan, they served the interests of the criminals. There was an intense trade in child trafficking within the continent. It was so profitable that some authorities turned a blind eye to the phenomenon.


    Tan had escaped after killing the members of the organization who had bio-sculpted his body, but the traumas remained. Rejected by his family, he returned to crime serving as a debt collector for loan sharks. Then he heard about a clandestine fighting tournament taking place underground in Ilu Nla. If he won, he would use the money to reverse the case. It was a dream he kept quiet.


    He felt he was close. Few things stood in his way. Among those things, Arcenoux LeBlanc.


    "Die, you damned foreigner!"


    The fight became fierce after the gunman''s bluff. Tan recovered from his opponent''s initial attack, but his movements slowed down. It was the delayed effect of the tranquilizer. Despite this, he still maintained his full strength. His blows were fatal due to his claws, and indefensible due to his brute strength.


    The American retreated to the walls. Tan jumped on him and tried to drive his claws into the bounty hunter''s throat. The ex-military rolled on the floor. The leonine claws dug hard into the wall. While he was trying to get his hands stuck in the wall, Arcenoux seized the moment to attack him from behind.


    Using savate blows, Arcenoux punished Tan with several kicks. The style of fighting popular in Cajun communities in the United States and Canada was developed by the French. In the 18th century, when France was an overseas empire vying for global hegemony with England.


    French sailors, on their long ocean voyages, practiced stretching and kicking exercises in the open air. These same sailors would drunkenly wander around the ports picking fights with natives or other sailors. Needing their hands to work on the ships, they fought by kicking, including stomping their opponent.


    This early style of fighting was called chassoun, in reference to the slippers worn by the sailors. In the 19th century, with the rise of Napoleon Bonaparte, the French Navy created a new form of punishment. The prisoner, with his arms immobilized by two men, was kicked in the buttocks by a third. This was called savate, ''the old shoe''.


    Michael Casseuse systematized the style and refined it to the point where it became a recognized martial art. Blows with closed hands were included, absorbed from English boxing. An excellent martial art for keeping your distance from opponents with greater physical strength. Arcenoux was putting this advantage to good use against Tan.


    The sequences of circular kicks to the ribs, stomps to the calves and punches to the head had left the Tswana vulnerable. He couldn''t disengage his claws from the holes with the gunman assaulting him. He decided to use his leonine tail. It wrapped around the mercenary''s leg and sent him sliding away.


    Tan managed to get out of the situation. However, his reflexes were already slowing down. His vision was blurred. But his nose was still intact. He galloped towards his opponent and tried to tear his neck out with a paw. Arcenoux dodged with difficulty. His hat was thrown a distance.


    "Gotcha!"


    The cajun didn''t have time to react, another blow was delivered to his belly. The claws left their mark on his opponent''s belly. The gunman kicked Tan in the neck. A blow that would have broken his bones in a normal human, it didn''t make a scratch. The feliform slapped his opponent on the head once more. This time, the gunman was hit hard and rolled across the ring.


    The Tswana fell on him. It bit into his shoulder, tearing off a huge chunk of flesh. It raked its claws across the other''s back several times, tearing off several strands of skin. Arcenoux screamed in pain. Several women watching the scene covered their faces. The blows continued in sequence and gradually slowed down.


    Finally, Tan closed his eyelids and turned his head as if he were dizzy. He fell on Arcenoux. The enormous weight of the bio-sculpture almost suffocated him, and the only reason he didn''t faint with the tswana was because the boy''s metamorphosis went backwards. The cajun crawled away from the teenager. He spat out a trickle of blood.


    The tranquilizer pris a long fois to ouvrage.  Je''m going to sue the supplier, attendre pour il¡­


    Victory was declared for Arcenoux LeBlanc. On hearing this, the gunman got up from the floor and, as if he were doing an Olympic lap, thanked the crowd. As the paramedics ran after him to give him first aid, a hemorrhage cascaded down his back.


    Bloody Mary looked at the screen and saw her name pop up. The other agent had selected his opponent. He looked like a teenager, with dark skin and Asian features. He was wearing a green and red hanfu. His straight hair was covered by a black wool beret. It was Njora, the Sino-Kenyan martial artist.


    The countess stood up and walked towards the ring. She felt excited by that young man with his deep-set eyes and composed posture. A bead of hot sweat trickled down her breasts. She shook herself with her fan. Her veins throbbed.

 Song 74: Sanguinolence

    At the beginning of the 21st century, China embarked on a geo-economic integration project. With the Belt and Road Initiative, better known as the New Silk Roads, the socialist country with Chinese characteristics undertook a series of infrastructural and credit investments.


    The Belt redesigned the old caravan routes with railroads, and the Road with an extensive maritime trade network. This created a series of economic corridors connected to the eastern giant. It won it support from the countries of the Global South and the plan to trade in national currencies, evading petrodollars and the economic sanctions imposed by the United States of America and its annexed institutions.


    To strengthen ties between China and these countries, many businessmen working abroad were encouraged to marry local women, provided they were well situated. It was under these conditions that the marriage between Makena Wangari and Kuen Fo Hao-Yu, heir to one of his country''s largest construction companies, became possible.


    Makena was the daughter of a former Kenyan prime minister and was studying for a bachelor''s degree in medicine at the University of Nairobi. Kuen was studying architecture. The two met accidentally and soon became closer.


    The patriarch of the Hao-Yu family, Mr. Ya Zhi, only found out when Makena was pregnant. The relationship between the bell and the girl generated less fuss, what mattered was the feeling of loss of trust. Despite everything, the marriage was arranged.


    The grandson''s heir was named Njora Wangari Hao-Yu. At first, the paternal side of the family rejected the child. Years passed, Njora grew up and having a child in the house broke down the initial resistance. But it was through martial arts that the little one won his grandfather''s heart.


    It was through Njora''s talent, discovered by chance, that Ya Zhi recognized the child as his legitimate heir. He taught him his family''s secret fighting style. For someone like Njora Hao-Yu, used to the best of both worlds, the life of professional competition became tedious.


    The Sino-Kenyan''s fists suffered from the uncertainty of never having been tested in the fire of real combat. Only testing the limits of his abilities motivated him to be there.


    As he climbed into the ring of the Grand Arena, facing Countess Bloody Mary, he felt that he would be facing an opponent equal to his abilities. The witch looked him up and down with disdain, she seemed disgusted. She crossed her arms, waved her fan and said:


    "Please, my boy, decline this dance."


    "I would never refuse to exchange a few steps with such a beautiful lady."


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    "Hunhunhun, unfortunately, I''m much taller than you."


    "Well, don''t you say to those who are too tall: ''Be careful, there''s a big fall'', ma''am?"


    As she gave this answer, the veins and arteries under the Englishwoman''s skin throbbed. Her skin, previously very pale, took on a flushed hue. Her eyes welled up with blood, as if she had a subconjunctival hemorrhage. She put her fan away and screamed in a guttural voice that bore no resemblance to the noblewoman''s silky, cynical voice:


    ¡°O rex Azazel! Qui bibit meum sanguinem et tribuit mihi benedictiones tuas, ut plus effundatur sanguis in nomine tuo¡­¡±


    Njora saw a huge shadow appear behind the woman. It was an aura of pure negativity in the shape of a strange creature. It was half human and half goat with huge horns on its head. No matter how hard she tried to take the initiative in the fight, that dark presence prevented her from moving.


    The strange ritual had not been completed. She pulled a curved-bladed dagger from her corselet and slashed her palm, splinsh!


    ¡°Sanguinis Libels.¡±


    An orgasmic expression appeared on his face. The bleeding dripped from his hand like an open tap. With a quick gesture of his cut hand, the blood took on a gelatinous consistency. Little by little, it solidified and took the shape of a crimson foil. The blade was light and stiff, ninety centimeters long and cupped. In all, it weighed five hundred grams.


    "In gard, young man! I''ve given you the chance to stop embarrassing yourself in that ring."


    "The use of a weapon will give you no advantage, madam. My style was forged to allow its practitioners to fight unarmed against anyone. It''s the first¡­"


    Swift as a gale, the countess approached Njora. She sought to strike his navel, but he only dodged the attack without fighting back. Bloody Mary turned her opaque eyes on him, and maintained her stocky pose.


    "Madame, it is impolite to interrupt a speech."


    "If the chatter is boring, it''s good manners for someone to interrupt it straight away."


    He tried a second time, to no avail. She struck once more, but the Sino-Kenyan kept retreating until he was close to the wall. Once again, the countess struck with her red foil, only succeeding in piercing the transparent wall. Njora dodged in profile and jumped backwards, avoiding all her opponent''s blows.


    "I thought there was going to be a fight, young man, not acrobatics show."


    "Madame, it seems to me that this foil has an oblique blade."


    This last provocation infuriated the countess. She made a perfect crossbow. It would have been indefensible if her opponent hadn''t been more agile and flexible.  In order not to miss another blow, the witch cheated. Her forearm twitched strangely, increasing the blood flow in her palm.


    The foil, with its handle connected to her veins, extended at the last moment and struck her opponent''s torso. The tip of the weapon hit his left hypochondrium.


    "Score one for me."


    Njora tried to contract her muscles. It was a technique developed by Chinese martial artists to prevent bleeding. She couldn''t stop the bleeding.


    "It''s not possible!"


    "You could have avoided that punishment, boy. Now, imagine, in my current state of rage, how many more ordeals I can offer you? It will be like a descent into the nine circles of hell."


    "Madame, forgive me, I think I''ve seen what your witches can do. If you''ll allow me, I''ll abandon this test of skill and take this fight seriously."


    As he did so, he unbuttoned the bloody hanfu and threw it away. His young body and bulging muscles drew gasps from the women in the Grand Arena.


    He assumed a fighting stance and moved his fists transversely and horizontally. His outstretched fingers, close together and firm, showed that his fingers were more than members of his body, they were weapons. Without moving from his stance, with a petulant gesture of his hand, he invited the witch to make another attack.

 Song 75: The swordsman without a sword

    Countess Bloody Mary made an arrow movement. With this move, she ran towards her opponent and applied a stock to the stomach. Njora Hao-Yu defended herself against the blow using the hypothenar region of her right hand. The blade deflected away. The English witch passed him at high speed. She realized the great force of the impact.


    The Sino-Kenyan wasn''t caught off guard; he turned around extremely quickly. He kept his palms straight and his fingers linked. She made a few hand gestures, all her fingers outstretched and pointed at her opponent.


    The witch made a guard movement. A delirious smile filled her lips. She went for a slam dunk. Her front knee was bent and her heel touched the floor of the ring. His armed arm extended forward as far as it would go. The unarmed arm was thrown back to propel her further.


    To surprise her enemy, she changed the blade from a foil to a saber. The latter, although shorter, was more flexible. At eighty-eight centimeters long, it had the same weight as the foil. With this change of style, her opponent''s head also became her target.


    Njora used the same ploy of rebounding the blows out of her range. However, the fencer landed several stock blows. The action forced him to be more offensive. With a cross, his left hand came down on his opponent. Flissssh, a wound opened up on her right shoulder down to her navel. She stepped back, checked the wound and let out a curse. She put herself on guard.


    "Is that impossible? You must be hiding a blade between your fingers."


    Njora held out her hands, then stood once again on her fighting stance. There was no blade hidden in her hand.


    "Be honored, madam. You have known first-hand the power of Tie Zhong."


    "Tie... Zhong... Is it some kind of magic?"


    "Oh, no! It is the purest and most genuine martial art in the world. In the West, it''s known as the ''Iron Palm''. Used to exhaustion by fighters to show off their strength and dexterity."


    "Breaking stones using your fists is something anyone can do, but I don''t understand how you can cut using only your bare hands."


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    "In ancient China, before empires became strong enough to centralize power and achieve periods of peace, there were several wars and tyrants. To ensure the submission of their subjects, these warlords forbade civilians to carry weapons. All to prevent them from rising up. To avoid the law and continue fighting, they created the Tie Zhong."


    While the military forces at the service of the tyrant increased their dependence on weapons, civilians carried out their daily chores to practice their physical training. The aim was to forge a fighting style that didn''t depend on any weapon, that was easy for the masses to learn, and that allowed the unarmed to fight as equals against the army. This is how Tie Zhong, also known as swordless fencing, came about.


    The countess let out a convulsive laugh. She was a master of fencing. She would never admit to losing to someone unarmed. It had become a matter of honor.


    "By defeating you, I will also defeat more than five thousand years of history. You''re just a half-breed heir to a decadent civilization, sold cheap for the opium of intellectuals. As the good poet would say: ''Life is just a shadow... a story that the idiot tells, full of sound and fury, without meaning anything''."


    "Madame, if you weren''t so presumptuous, and if your nobility wasn''t limited to the title you bear, I''d have the courage to invite you to five o''clock tea."


    She marched towards him, without Njora moving an inch. She prepared a crossbow aimed at the fighter''s abdomen. At the last moment, she deflected the attack and raised the handle of her saber upwards. The blade lashed out at his opponent''s left eyebrow. He struck the countess in the face with a vertical blow.


    She paused, defending herself from Njora with a horizontal slash, and broke off, thrusting her body backwards again and again. She put herself on guard once more and responded by counterattacking from where she was with another crossbow. The actions were too quick for the Sino-Kenyan to redirect.


    He tried to parry the saber''s blow by clapping his hands together. At that moment, the countess increased the blood flow in her palm and made the blade increase in size. It passed close to the young fighter''s neck. Before being pierced by the enemy weapon, he tilted his head to the side and was not mortally wounded.


    He held the sabre in one hand and struck with a horizontal blow. If he hadn''t missed, he would have decapitated his opponent. At the last moment, she pulled the blade, causing blood to gush from the wound. The boy''s wounds cascaded with intense bleeding. In addition to the pain, he felt the life draining from his body at a rapid pace. He had to end the fight.


    "You''re starting to look pale, young man. It doesn''t suit a young man to look so rickety."


    "The blood of true fighters purifies the rings."


    "Yes, but the blood of losers promotes filth everywhere."


    "Madame is as expert at fencing as she is at insults."


    With nothing left to lose but her life, Njora went after the countess. The Englishwoman didn''t back down, but seemed to assume a defensive posture. Despite the setbacks, she had the advantage. Her patron demon, Azazel, was a lover of bloodletting. Being wounded in battle and bleeding didn''t diminish her witchcraft. However, she wasn''t used to feeling so much pain.


    Her victims didn''t usually fight back or start a pitched battle. After more than a hundred years, she had found a worthy adversary. One who wasn''t afraid to hurt himself in order to hurt her. This made the game exciting and dangerous. Bloody Mary licked the blade of her saber and got a taste of two worlds.


    Njora was more than a sum, she was a synthesis. This synthesis used fists as sharp as a sword. Her willfulness in combat bordered on suicidal ideation. It made the witch''s veins throb. The fighter didn''t stop attacking, even when the Englishwoman counterattacked. In an exchange of blows, he captured the hilt bearing his opponent''s saber.

 Song 76: Weak blood

    In Midnet Habu, Upper Egypt, on the west bank of the River Nile, near the Theban necropolis, now Luxor, there is a temple built in honor of Ramses III. On the site, there is a bas-relief showing a fencing competition organized by the pharaoh. The Egyptians were celebrating their victory over the Libyans.


    The practice of fencing in Africa predates the Olympic games of Ancient Greece by four centuries. Given the cultural exchanges between the Egyptians and the Hellenes, it''s possible that the former inspired the latter.


    Adopted as a military exercise for the troops of Antiquity, it soon became a major presence in the Middle Ages. But it was with Alexandre Dumas'' The Three Musketeers that fencing became popular with the masses.


    It wasn''t until the 19th century that light infantry replaced fencing as a combat tactic. The sabres remained part of the clothing, or were used in solemn rituals. As a sport, it became as elite as equestrianism, and one of the most contested at the Olympic Games.


    Fencing is the only combat sport where bodily contact is forbidden, leaving fencers to rely solely on the dexterity of their blade. Without it, what can a fencer do? That was the question asked by Bloody Mary when Njora Hao-Yu cut off her hand. She let out a gasping cry.


    "My¡­ my hand¡­ No!"


    Blood gushed from the wound. The Countess''s hand fell into the ring, convulsed. She struggled like a spider.


    Njora fled, taking her distance. Her condition wasn''t the best either. Being pierced by blades like the foil and the saber causes acute bleeding. Difficult to contain, the damage to internal organs and tissues is extensive.


    "That''s the power of Tie Zhang. The martial artist needs to train hard for several years. If his obstinacy is as tough as his training, he will achieve full mastery of the technique."


    According to Njora, by increasing blood flow to a certain area of the body, the muscle stiffens. Coupled with muscle hypertrophy in the hands, the palm becomes as hard and sharp as steel. Tie Zhang''s fighter doesn''t need to fear anything, as long as he has his hands.


    "Hunhunhun, I think I''ve played with you enough, my boy."


    "Madam, give it up. We fought a good fight, we don''t need to continue this spectacle."


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    "Only the lead actress can say when the show is over."


    The witch stood up with all her dark clothes splattered with blood. From the laceration on her wrist, the red gush took the shape of a sword. Her fighting style would change, and now her blows would target any part of her opponent''s body.


    Of the fencing weapons, the heavy sword is the hardest and heaviest. Without the lightness of the foil and the flexibility of the sabre, it compensates for the attack by being longer. They are one hundred and ten centimeters long and weigh seven hundred and seventy grams.


    The point is that without one of the limbs, the body tends to be unbalanced. This causes it to lean to the side with the missing limb. Njora soon realized this and used it to her advantage.


    The countess would not stop counterattacking, and decided to use the full extent of her witchcraft. The Sanguinis Libels allowed her total control over the blood in contact with her. Whether it was flowing through her veins or coagulated on her skin, the Englishwoman could shape it and change its consistency, making it liquid or solidified like iron.


    The droplets of blood on her skin became scarlet needles. They were fired at the Sino-Kenyan. With open palms, he batted them away. It was at that moment that she swung her crossbow at him. The sword was pointed at his heart, and she realized that he would be able to strike back. She used her last trump card, firing the blade of her sword at him.


    Njora held the sword like a javelin and threw it back at the countess. The blade hit her right eye. The sword stuck in her eye socket. She didn''t move, overwhelmed by the counterattack. Before she could react, her opponent threw the most violent sequence of blows of the fight at her.


    Like a maestro of fists, Njora hit her with her palms. She cut through the Englishwoman''s skin as if it were paper. Her wounds spewed blood everywhere. Those present turned their faces away so as not to see all the bloodshed.


    When it was over, the martial artist''s entire body was dyed red. A rusty smell mingled with the acidity of his sweat. He stood in front of the witch, who was sniffling on the floor in a red puddle. Her pale body convulsed epileptically. She rolled her left eye and the blade shattered.


    At the same moment, Njora managed to contract her muscles and stop the bleeding. He was yellow, the dark circles under his eyes foreshadowed acute anemia. Victory was declared to Njora Hao-Yu. The paramedics entered the arena and picked them both up. To the medical team''s surprise, although he was still standing and his eyes were open, the Chinese-Kenyan had fainted.


    On the other side of the ring, while Bloody Mary was being carried away on a stretcher, Arcenoux and Eniac II analyzed the end of the battle.


    "If Madame hadn''t underestimated the enemy so much, she would have won."


    "I''m not so sure about that, Mr. LeBlanc."


    "Why not?"


    "My data shows that¡­"


    "Oh, no! Enough of that¡­ look here, big man, it looks like it''s your time to go to the ball."


    "Certainly, Mr. LeBlanc."


    Eniac II stood up. He walked slowly to the ring. On the opposite side, there was what looked like an elderly man. He wore a mapiko mask, made of light wood and dyed an earthy color. It was reinforced at the base and had raffia. He wore five pieces of clothing made from different fabrics, the most striking of which was the mesh covering his bust, made up of several ropes with rattles hanging from them.


    In front of him was a structure with five drums carved out of logs. Each one had a different shape: a chalice, a mortar, a spike, a cylinder and a tube. The skin of the drums was made of gazelle leather. It was fixed with strips of leather nailed with wooden nails.


    The old man began to play the drums slowly and rhythmically. Eniac II analyzed the man with his bionic eyes. The only thing that came up as information was the word ''danger''.

 Song 77: The drums talk

    Science and monotheistic religions have gradually supplanted magic in our world. It''s gotten to the point where both have become fetishes, in other words, a type of magic. But it is in the corners where tradition still rules everyday life that it remains active.


    In the province of Cabo Delgado, Mozambique, specifically on the Mueda Plateau, live part of the Makonde people. Belonging to the Bantu groups, they extend into southeastern Tanzania and have a small presence in Kenya. It was in the rural area of the capital Pemba that a young man with unparalleled supernatural talent was born.


    From an early age, he listened to and talked to the Shetani. He became so close to the spirits that he spoke of them as if they were his friends. He protested against the orders and commands of the sorcerers. The more experienced ones treated him as arrogant and envied his gifts.


    They saw him as a threat to their power. They understood that he was challenging their authority in witchcraft. He received a punishment: his tongue was cut out. But he didn''t mute. Through the drums, he continued to emit his voice to the Shetani. They answered him. It was the Shetani who killed the older sorcerers in the most cruel and diabolical ways possible.


    After this terrible experiment, the boy was given the name Mwita, which can be translated as ''summoner'' or ''He summons the people''. He became the favorite sorcerer of Mozambican politicians and the local bourgeoisie.


    Everything always starts with the rumble of the drums. They begin with a light percussion. Little by little, the vibration of the air shapes the sound energy. What was once just noise takes shape and is then filled with content, dimensions and mass. What was once a vague idea becomes a being that feels and thinks, albeit instinctively.


    These beings cannot be seen by laypeople. To see the shetani, you have to see them with the eyes of spirituality. Their anatomy is confused and not at all comparable to any species in the animal kingdom. They are vaguely reminiscent of a human being, as long as you imagine a human being in an erratic way.


    With the beat of the drums, they move swiftly against the enemy, like a swarm of imps. They scratch, bite and beat the victim. The witnesses to the massacre see nothing but a guy flailing in the air. Kicking and punching wildly. Fighting an invisible threat.


    Eniac II felt this way as he watched Mwita''s spell in practice. His bionic eye targeted the drums.


    "Traditional Makonde music. An attempt at hypnosis through percussion? No. Weapons hidden in the percussive instruments? No. Threat level: harmless."


    The machine part analyzed the threats coming from the opponent, without finding any. However, its human part sensed the danger coming from Mwita. Without seeing anything, its body was assaulted by a series of bites and scratches. It felt like being eaten alive in a piranha tank.


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    The Shetani didn''t use weapons, they cannibalized their victims. Not even muscles lined with microfilaments and a metallic endoskeleton were any match for the Shetani. Their animalistic fury knew no bounds.


    The sound of the drums increased. The music became like a hot knife piercing the ears. The Shetani became even more ferocious. Blood and synthetic fluids escaped from the holes in the cyborg''s body. The soldier managed to walk with some effort. His body was incomprehensibly overweight.


    He felt that an unknown force was tormenting him, but he couldn''t see it. He punched the air, kicked in all directions, but he didn''t feel like he was hitting anything. At least, it wasn''t working. In tatters, with his systems suppressing the pain, he walked unsteadily towards Mwita. He raised both arms like a sledgehammer and came down furiously on the drums. The structure shattered.


    The Shetani were gone. Mwita stayed where he was. Eniac II looked at the masked man. It was as if he could see behind the mapiko mask. His opponent raised his hands in the air, it was his way of surrendering.


    Victory was declared for the cyborg. He walked in the opposite direction. Chunks of flesh and pieces of cyberware fell to the ground. Its stateliness had diminished after the Shetani attack. It looked like a badly digested and regurgitated corpse.


    "Activate self-repair systems. Activate additional cooling measures for the semiconductors in the affected areas. Neutralize the acidity of the wounds."


    Between electrical chips coming out of bare wires and creaking joints, he returned to Arcenoux LeBlanc. The English witch had not yet returned from the infirmary.


    "you''re a mess, grand bougre. Was the sonner interfering with your circuits?"


    "No, Mr. LeBlanc. The sound of the drums was controlling some kind of unknown and hostile force. The most efficient thing would be to shut down the emission of the sound waves."


    "We should amener vous to a garage, change some parts, how about that?"


    "My systems can operate in continuous self-repair mode, even without spare parts..."


    "Okay, assez with the technical language!"


    A holoprojection of General Luena was presented to the audience. The last fight of the first day was over. The military officer was satisfied with the spectacle.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes the first day of the Grand Arena tournament. Our fighters put on a real martial arts show. Tomorrow we''ll start the third and fourth rounds of fights for the remaining groups."


    According to the hostess, the fighters would be taken to their lodgings. For the sake of protection, guards would be kept between the corridors of the facility. It was a way of preventing fighters from meeting and fighting prematurely.


    It was not clear what would happen to the fighters from the losing teams. They were taken out of the rings and sent to the infirmaries for assessment, never to return.


    Akachi, Nyatui and Fadala followed the corridor indicated by the guards, to the left of the screen. The trio followed it until it turned right. There was a series of corridors, each with three rooms. Each was given a magnetic key. Before entering their rooms, a guard fixed his sunglasses and said to the three of them:


    "Better lock the doors tight tonight."


    Akachi and Nyatui raised their eyebrows and asked at the same time:


    "Yeah, why?"


    The guard said nothing and turned away. Fadala was the one who gave the answer.


    "The fighters from the other teams might try to kill us before the next rounds. Better take the advice."

 Song 78: Intrusion

    Eniac II managed to repair its systems and maintain some physical integrity. His human and cybernetic natures had found a tenuous balance. Until that moment, he hadn''t understood how invisible forces had ripped chunks of flesh and cyberware from him.


    He had no time to waste on speculation. His biotronic brain was equipped with a quantum microcomputer. The cyborg was prepared to analyze through spin reading, or the elliptical orbit of the electron. Its processor operated at qubithertz capacity. Logical sentences were not limited to the binary result of 0 and 1, they went beyond that; their probabilistic nature allowed it to reach the intersection between the two.


    The collapse of the wave function present in the microcomputer, the probable values of quantities are calculated in advance. Instead of sequencing, data is superimposed and accepted as true when the results fit the probabilities.


    It was the most advanced and expensive prototypical weapon of the Anglo-American Alliance. The American war industry, together with the British espionage complex, had achieved an excellent result. However, the walking weapon had its limitations.


    Eniac II''s mission was to break into Ilu Nla''s defense systems and steal the secret without breaking into the safe. For this to be effective, he had to be within three kilometers of the target to be hacked. His overline encryption allowed him to go unnoticed by many systems.


    The cyborg, sitting on the edge of the bed, carried out the intrusion of the systems. He had passed through several firewall barriers without attracting any attention. His bionic eye emitted a greenish beam of light on the wall in front of him. The attempt was proving unsuccessful. A quadlink, a holoprojected three-dimensional link appeared around him. He opened the quadlink.


    It was a holoprojected private call. The busts of Arcenoux and Bloody Mary appeared.


    "Come sur, grand bougre! The Pentagon can''t get assez of your curiosity."


    "Mr. LeBlanc, the mission to intrude into Ilu Nla''s defense systems has failed."


    The countess grimaced with an eye patch, making her face look even more grim.


    "You are the secret weapon of the Anglo-American Alliance. Don''t let us down at this point in the game."


    "Excuse me, ma''am. The data obtained from the mining is insufficient to meet the mission requirements. The decrypted data is being sent to the bilateral office."


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    LeBlanc was impressed by how Ilu Nla managed to evade US espionage. There were few nations that could boast that.


    "It''s not possible that Ilu Nla has such advanced technology. Il must be receiving funding from BRICS Plus."


    "This nation is not a member of the Global South political and economic alignment bloc, and declined the invitation. Although it maintains good diplomatic relations with all member countries and those seeking admission."


    Ilu Nla was a sphinx for the so-called first world countries. The small country, born on the coast of Africa, had become the mecca of cyber technology in just a few years. Its industrial plants were an unknown. Its military technology was the most advanced in the world. Everything was bordering on the supernatural.


    The Anglo-American Alliance pressured Ilu Nla in every way, from diplomacy to economic embargoes. To the surprise of the American and British intelligence services, the African nation managed to circumvent these barriers with multilateral agreements inside and outside the continent. Its cryptocurrency reserves were the largest, and it was free of sanctions.


    Its strategic ambiguity demonstrated what an effective statesman President Ojwang was. He maintained good relations with all the geopolitical and geo-economic power blocs without compromising with anyone.


    Sending three spies into the heart of Ilu Nla was a way of obtaining the key to his success. However, the projects drawn up by old gray-haired marshals behind mahogany desks were having no effect. As advanced as Eniac II was, and as competent and disposable as the Cajun bounty hunter and the English witch were, the secrets of the former monarchy were well guarded.


    "Can we consider it a failed mission?"


    "Plan A, yes. The most sensitive data can only be accessed by an intranet enabled by the Phalanx, or by Ojwang himself, or both."


    "If that''s the case, on droite besoin to kidnap the president or surrender the Phalanx, that''s too ais¨¦¡­"


    "Stop this nonsense, LeBlanc."


    "It was droite a suggestion, ma''am. So quitter''s d¨¦m¨¦nager sur to the second stage. Fois pour plan b, ladies and gentlemen."


    "Plan B is a suicide note, but you''ve been put in charge of this team. If we survive, I will kill you in the most painful way possible."


    "If the lady is faster than the trigger of my revolver¡­"


    "You''re too confident with this old gun that only spews gray smoke. You should have demonstrated your skill when you had the chance. Hunhunhun, unhappily, was too busy running and screaming like an infanta from one side to the other."


    "You vieux sorci¨¨re!"


    The insults continued. Eniac II, after reporting the brief report, ended the call with the other two companions. He lay down on the bed. His body was bigger than her. She had to keep her knees bent.


    Without realizing the cause, he was restless. It wasn''t the bed, or the room with its monotony and claustrophobic atmosphere. It wasn''t even the high risk of the mission assigned by the bilateral office. It was the data obtained in that raid that left his nerves twisting over his deteriorating skin.


    The cross-checking of data from the hacking indicated an Ilu Nla megaproject. The state had taken custody of several children from the old medium clans that actively participated in the defunct monarchy. Eniac II didn''t remember having any children. He had been given a lobotomy to deprive him of his memories.


    But where was that itch in his brain coming from? Pale images flashed in his pupils. Sometimes he felt he saw the world in two ways: one as a human and the other as a machine. One looked to the future, the other saw glimpses of the past. He shook his head. He finished sending the data to his superiors. He went into standby mode.


    For the first time since the bionic enhancement operations, he dreamt. Eniac II had the most peaceful night''s sleep of his life. Deep down, he wished he wouldn''t wake up. He wanted to remain submerged in that dreamlike waltz. That wasn''t possible. Those in the aisles of the shadow theater wanted a more awake performance. He woke up with new guidelines inserted into his biotronic brain.

 Song 79: Shinobi-no-mono

    Throughout history, he has had various names: shinobi, onmistu and ninja. The origin of this feared warrior dates back to Ancient China, not the Japanese archipelago. Around 500 BC, the strategist Sun Tzu wrote one of the greatest military treatises in history, The Art of War. It focused on strategy and covert operations.


    Some of this knowledge was absorbed by Buddhist monks. Fleeing political and religious persecution in the constant periods of war, they sought refuge among the Lin Kui. These mountain raiders taught part of their lifestyle to the religious, including their martial skills.


    In the Sui Dynasty (589-618 AD), internal disputes led to a great wave of emigration to the Japanese islands. Among these exiles were Chinese nobles and intellectuals. The dissidents found settlements in the provinces of Iga and Koga, established villages and started families.


    Anyone who has had the privilege of reading the Nihon Shoki knows how important the prince regent Shootoku (574-622 AD) was in the definitive establishment of the ninja in Japanese history. He was the son of Emperor Yoonmei and his wife and half-sister, Princess Anahobe no Hashihito. He inherited the imperial throne, but not before suffering an attempted usurpation by Mononobe no Moriya.


    Prince Shootoku made Buddhism the official religion of the empire. This caused dissension between the various religious factions. Religious warfare swept Japan. In this conflict, a third and powerful force emerged: Em-no-Gyoja, a yamabushi, or ''warrior priest''.


    Together with his followers, they descended into the mountains preaching Shugendo Buddhism, which worships Buddha Danichi, the ''Buddha of Infinite Light'', and soon became a threat to the local elites. Once again, the Buddhists were persecuted. The Yamabushi retreated into the mountains once again and remained refugees for four hundred years.


    The families split into clans. They perfected their knowledge and techniques. In the Heian Era (794-1185 AD), the weakness of Japan''s central power and repeated disputes between the daimyo created the perfect environment for the ninja to become part of local politics. Their techniques were suited to espionage, infiltration, sabotage, assassination and guerrilla warfare.


    But it was with the agreement between Tokugawa Leyasu and the ose of Iga, Hatori Hanzo, that the ninja became part of the Japanese state. They served as a secret service during the more than two hundred and sixty years of peace under the Tokugawa Shogunate. Not even the Meiji Restoration ejected the ninja from their conquered power. Modernity demanded even more subtlety.


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    The Masutah Kage Clan, former renegade members of the Oniwaban, maintained their dreams of greatness. They were fans of the fantasy of exclusionary development: they wanted to seize power, close Japan off from the world and continue their economic and technological development away from the eyes of the world.


    In the Second World War (1939-1945), they supported General Hideki Tojo. His fascist ideas were also in line with the clan''s objectives. They worked to promote Japanese imperialism, racial supremacy and warmongering.


    Tora-Tora was the most polished product of the Masutah Kage Clan. He was to be the new ose. However, his bloodlust and pride transcended those of his clan. After mastering the eighty-one kuji-kiri, the eighteen skills and the eight ''Ninja no Hachimon'' before coming of age, he turned against his clan and killed them all.


    He had surpassed them and considered them unworthy of living. After that, he went to work for the most powerful yakuza family, but he also considered them narrow-minded, and killed his employers. It was after this that his name reached the hidden investors of the Neo Axis, a secret group that promotes the extreme right in the world.


    Made up of politicians, businessmen, intellectuals and media men, they finance Nazi-fascism around the world. But instead of military uniforms, they wear beautiful, sleek suits. Through the Neo Axis, Tora-Tora found a place where he could exercise all his pride and cruelty.


    Sending the three of them to the tournament at the Ilu Nla Grand Arena was a bold move. But the backers were convinced that it would be an excellent stage to showcase the racial superiority they assumed existed.


    Unlike his teammates, he was less adept at formalities. In his room, standing on his head, supported only by an index finger, he exercised. His hair was unruly and greasy, flowing down to the nape of his neck. He had an angular face with a large nose, and his eyebrows joined in the middle of his forehead to form a single brow.


    He wore an old worn-out kimono, but it wasn''t a shinobi shoozoku, but a karate-gi with torn sleeves and a black hakama. On his feet, the one-heeled Geta sandal made him even taller. He wondered aloud what his next move in the tournament would be. He had seen Akachi''s team fight and wanted to burn a stage in the tournament.


    "That team is very dangerous, especially because of that Fadala. He doesn''t fool me, I was born in the underworld, he must be a mortician."


    He did ten more push-ups with his fingers, stopped and remained still. Despite all the physical effort, his body wasn''t even sweating.


    "It''s prudent on a mission to weaken a group to kill the weakest. That''s what the pragmatic and rational mindset of an assassin recommends. But that''s cowardly, and there''s nothing fun about it. It''s always more prudent to kill the strongest. If you cut off the head, the body will fall."


    He got out of his stance. He did two small jumps to get the blood circulating in his legs again. He walked over to the table. He opened an urn made of bamboo. He took out some weapons and hid some in his clothes. He picked up his ninjatoh, as closed environments required short blades.


    He headed for the door. He set off several smoke bombs and launched them down the corridor. Before General Luena''s security guards knew it, they were slashed to death in a pool of hot blood. He took the master card from one of the guards as he headed towards his real target.


    The Tora-Tora ninja wasted no time. He quickly made his way to the corridor where Akachi''s team was. He moved his sword to wipe the blood off the blade. He slipped the magnetic card into the lock. The door opened without a sound. The light was off. Foot by foot, he walked to the edge of the bed. He raised his sword and attacked.

 Song 80: You didnt even knock on the door!

    The ninja blade went right through the mattress. Tora-Tora''s eyes widened. The light came on. He smiled. He turned his face away. Akachi was sitting on the edge of the table with two sticks. The young medium commented:


    "I didn''t order room service."


    "I didn''t expect you to be awake at that hour. Oh, I see. As a medium, you must have used your¡­ what do you call it? Ori Guardian? You must have warned him of my arrival."


    "I could politely ask you to leave and let me sleep. But I don''t think you''re going to do that."


    "No, when a ninja chooses a target, he must kill it."


    The oriental held the ninjatoh in both hands and applied a horizontal cut. Akachi defended himself with the tungsten rod vertically. With Fenyang locked onto his body, his dexterity and senses were sharpened. He threw his body backwards. He bent his knees. He kicked the ninja''s solar plexus with all his might.


    Tora-Tora hit his back on the wall. He slid down it and used the springs in the mattress to propel himself forward. Akachi turned away from the stock. He climbed down from where he was and went to the center of the room. The fight was taking on a claustrophobic atmosphere. Using weapons that required maximum movement in tight spaces was a challenge.


    Azekel''s grandson feared being disarmed against a swordsman like Tora-Tora. At the same time, he couldn''t allow himself to be cornered by the enemy.


    The ninja went in with everything he had. He parried the blows of his staff with his sword. He changed hands, demonstrating his ambidextrous skills. Akachi took advantage of a moment of carelessness on his opponent''s part. He delivered a stock blow, which was defended by Tora-Tora. The medium turned the handle of the staff and activated the weapon''s electrocution function.


    The enemy was severely electrocuted and thrown into the doorway. Tora-Tora''s hair stood on end, and he emitted small electrical discharges. He stood up gasping for breath. He leaned against the door. He gripped the handle as if he was going to run away.


    "Are you going to run away with your tail between your legs?"


    "No, I would never run away from an inferior opponent like you."


    "Oh, I know! The inferior who threw you into the ropes. You racists always come up with this superiority thing. You only see who''s strong or weak when you go head-to-head."


    Bro, I''m proud of you.


    Fenyang, this guy woke me up at this time of night to give me a hard time. I''m furious. I''m tired, I''m sleepy, I feel like beating his head off.


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    Careful, my brother. He''s a ninja, don''t let your guard down!


    It''s more like disgust.


    Tora-Tora opened the door and hid behind it. Akachi went to it and pulled the handle, but the enemy was no longer there. The light went out. Darkness was a natural advantage for ninjas who trained their sight and other senses to act in such conditions. For the medium, this was no disadvantage. By concentrating part of his Ax¨¦ in his eyes, he obtained night vision.


    He pretended to grope in the dark. However, he ended up stepping on something sharp. He looked down at the ground.


    "Shit!"


    The floor of the room was littered with tetsubishi. This anti-personnel weapon is made up of pointed metal spikes. It is used to hinder the enemy''s advance in pursuit, or limit their area of action.


    The pain in Akachi''s heel was stinging. He had been fighting barefoot all that time. Unable to move, unable to put up a solid base of defense.


    Believing he had control of the battlefield, he stuck the ninjatoh into the wall and shoved both hands into the karate-gi. He pulled out kunai and shuriken. He threw them towards Akachi in succession. The young man used his tactic of concentrating Ax¨¦ below the ground through his feet, causing the tetsubishi to be thrown high into the air, and hitting them with the concentrated sticks with repulsive force.


    The stratagem worked after a minute, they were both tired. Tora-Tora had veins popping out from under his skin. He was furious. It was the first time he had taken so long in a fight.


    "I''ve killed people twice as strong as you. Ninjutsu is the most complete and perfect martial style in the world. How can someone like you, dependent on fifth-rate witchcraft, survive me?"


    "Witchcraft? The mediumistic arts are older than your ninjutsu. Actually, I''m the one who''s impressed. It''s about time you called it quits."


    "Come on, you inferior! I''m going to rip your head off."


    The ninja leapt over the blade and ran up the wall. He pulled out an egg-shaped metsubuchi and threw it at Akachi''s face. He shielded himself by raising both sticks, but the morale-boosting explosive hit him in the face. A mixture of gunpowder, sulphur, pepper and ash fell on the medium''s face.


    Tora-Tora leapt over his opponent, putting both hands on his shoulders in mid-air. When he withdrew them, his hands were equipped with two tekagi-shuko. As if he were Wolverine, the ninja swung his sharp claws down on Akachi.


    At the last moment, Adisa''s son ducked, hitting his opponent with a horizontal blow of great concentrated repulsive force. Brah! The blow threw Tora-Tora so hard that he was pinned against the back wall of the room.


    Blood began to drip from his nose. He vomited a stream of bile and blood. He had a coughing fit and fell to his knees on the floor. The ninja looked up. He noticed that the teenager was still keeping his eyes closed. His face was blistered from the metsubuchi mixture. He didn''t seem to have suffered anything more than an allergic reaction.


    "It''s not possible, you can fight even without your sight!"


    "With my Ori Guardian incorporated, even if my eyes were gouged out, he''d still be able to see for me."


    Tora-Tora rose from the floor. He couldn''t believe he was being defeated by a boy who had barely reached the peak of his power.


    "I saw your fight. I confess that I saw your fight against the damned kikuyu, and I realized the great potential that lies dormant in you. It''s not possible that you''ve evolved so much since then, Fenyang. That only happens in martial arts geniuses like me¡­"


    "Killing people when they''re off guard and cheating doesn''t make you a martial arts genius, at the very least it makes you a coward."


    Hohohoho, wow, Akachi! You know how to use words badly.


    That guy ruined my night''s sleep. Even if I go back to bed, I won''t be able to sleep. He deserves to be punished.


    Tora-Tora took out a hand grenade from inside the karate-gi. He lit the fuse and said with a huge smile:


    "Since I can''t kill you, I''m taking you to hell with me."


    "What, are you crazy?"


    Akachi didn''t even try to turn the handle. There would be no time to escape through it. He concentrated a field of repulsive force around himself and waited for the worst.

 Song 81: Kamikazes are afraid of death

    Tora-Tora smiled his most sadistic smile. Akachi and Fenyang concentrated as much repulsive force as possible around themselves to protect themselves from the detonation. The wick of the explosive was quickly consumed. Before it reached the end, it went out. The medium frowned.


    "The show isn''t even over and they already want to set off the fireworks."


    She appeared from nowhere, as if she had always been there watching everything. Wrapped so that her face was at the same height as the Japanese, she smiled with self-confidence.


    "General¡­ General Luena! Stay out of this¡­"


    With one swift movement, she grabbed the ninja by the cheeks. She lifted him into the air. The force she applied was such that the man began to flail his legs and choke. His temples turned red. Her sudden gestures only made her long fingers dig deeper into his flesh.


    "It wasn''t my fault. He broke into my room, General Luena."


    "Don''t worry, Mr. Fenyang. We don''t usually intervene in rivalries between fighters, even outside the ring of the Grand Arena. However, you killed my subordinates. Bad boys should be punished, don''t you think?"


    Rivalries? This guy came in here to kill me, you crazy woman!


    Tora-Tora applied a knee strike, to no avail. It was like hitting a steel-reinforced concrete stake. He raised his tekagi-shuko and aimed at the woman''s bust.


    "Get your¡­ gasp¡­ claws off me!"


    Sclinz. The ninja attacked with his lethal claws, but the general''s armor was tougher. The tekagi-shuko''s blades bent inwards. The oriental assassin swallowed. His body was afraid, he had been immobilized quickly and with a single hand. It felt as if his head had been crushed by a tourniquet.


    "Uargh! Let me go! Enough, I can''t take it anymore."


    Akachi noticed a smile of pleasure on Luena''s face. She was having a lot of fun with all this. He put his other hand on her waist and thrust his hips. She tilted her chin up proudly.


    "By rights, I should kill you, but in fact, if you did that, it would show the agents what a bad girl and a terrible hostess I am. So get out, you piece of garbage. If I turn around, and you''re still there, I''ll rip out your backbone without anesthetic."


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    General Luena smashed Tora-Tora''s jaw. A mass of bone, tooth and blood filled the underside of his mouth. The soldier threw him towards the door. Akachi fell to the ground. The Japanese flew through the steel door with all his might and crashed into the wall just ahead.


    Her hand was bloodied. With a sudden gesture, she sprinkled the drops on the wall next to her. She was disgusted.


    "It''s like squashing a cockroach, and its fluids spill out of its body, yuck!"


    She turned around. In an artificial way, as if she were talking to a little boy in kindergarten, Luena said to Akachi:


    "Dear Mr. Fenyang, the organization is very sorry for this inconvenience. Sometimes the pest control doesn''t work as it should and some insects wander around here. I''ll send a team to tidy up your room¡­"


    "Oh, no¡­ thank you! No more room service for today."


    Keeping her smile, she walked lightly across the room, rolling her cybernetic hips, and left. She closed the door slowly, quietly, and wished her guest a good night''s sleep.


    Fenyang remained embedded with Akachi. They both remained on the floor. The medium''s legs were shaking. Even he was impressed by the outcome of the situation.


    "What a sadistic subject. I think she''s been here for a while. She had fun at our expense."


    "She might have teleported, or used super speed, Fenyang."


    "No, that kind of thing is less subtle, bro. She snuck in here. It must be some camouflage cybertech, I don''t know."


    Fenyang disembodied himself from Akachi. The boy got up from the floor. He groped around the walls until he hit the switch. It was no use, his vision was still blurred. He went to the bathroom. He opened the sink and washed his face. The burning sensation increased.


    "Wouldn''t it be better to call the others, Akachi? You''ll have to fight with a damaged sense. You could make it worse, bro."


    "I feel like my eyes are going to be swollen for a while. It''ll be like conjunctivitis. Nothing''s been damaged here. Don''t worry, during the fight, I''ll still have your eyes stuck in the enemies."


    "Man, I''m proud of you. You took on the ninja, asshole, you even left your sword here."


    "It''s a souvenir, hahahaha."


    ?


    In the corridor, the team was cleaning up. General Luena walked and her subordinates got out of the way. She stopped in front of the event''s head of security. The man had to look up to face her. The military woman looked very dissatisfied.


    "I''m having a peaceful night''s sleep when I get an alert that security has been bypassed. That''s never happened before."


    "Excuse me, sir. He''s a ninja highly trained in the art of killing."


    "He''s a ninja trained in the art of killing¡­ blah-blah-blah! I surrendered him with just one hand. Isn''t it possible that my soldiers have become lax overnight? I hope this doesn''t happen again, or your fate will be the same. I don''t pay soldiers to be slackers. And get this clean-up over with."


    Luena walked past him as if the soldier wasn''t there. He stood at attention and leaned against the wall. He didn''t dare look at her as he walked backwards. When his footsteps stopped echoing in the corridor, he noisily exhaled all the air in his lungs. He removed his beret from his head and shook himself.


    He walked down the corridor, trying not to get in the way of the team removing the bodies. The security guards were all mutilated. They looked like a pile of minced meat strewn across the corridor floor. The man had an urge to vomit. He held on until he reached a pair of soldiers who were collecting the cubes of meat from a security guard.


    "Look at that, boss. The animal that did this must have been dangerous."


    "Yeah, like those American serial killers who become celebrities."


    Actually, soldiers. You should be more concerned about the person who managed to stop this murderer. She''s much more dangerous¡­

 Song 82: The ally of my enemy is my enemy

    The day after the raid on his room, Akachi woke up with burning eyes. He had a slight fever due to the inflammation. He had a runny nose from having inhaled the metsubuchi solution. Luckily, he wasn''t going to fight that day. He blindfolded himself with cold compresses to reduce the inflammation. He groped around the walls until he bumped into someone.


    "What happened to you? I don''t remember being hit in the eye."


    "Mr. Tuponili?"


    Akachi recognized the man by his voice. He felt two more breaths around him, one of them more agitated than usual.


    "Who did this to you, kid?"


    "Well, let''s just say I had an unwelcome visitor last night. I had to throw her out, she was a bit too loose."


    "It must have been some fighter from the teams fighting today, Trent. These guys waste no time. You won''t have to fight today, just go to the stands. Keep up the good work, you''re making me a lot richer."


    Tuponili walked to the end of the corridor. Trent and Fadala waited until he was gone. Akachi leaned against the wall. He looked dejected.


    "You look like a zombie, kid. Go on, spit it out. Who did this to you?"


    "It was the ninja, the Japanese guy with the funny name."


    Fadala crossed eyes with Nyatui. The ex-sage went over to the teenager and leaned on his shoulder.


    "I didn''t hear anything last night, I''m sorry, kid."


    "You couldn''t have, the walls are armored and there''s an acoustic lining. Lucky you''re alive, Akachi."


    "It wasn''t luck that saved me¡­ it was General Luena. That woman is a monster. She came out of nowhere, immobilized the ninja with just one hand. It was horrible."


    The hitman couldn''t understand how Akachi had survived. He had realized how strong the ninja seemed, he had recognized his origin. If General Gahiji''s Phalangites had proved so powerful, he couldn''t measure how powerful a general could be. He accompanied his companions to the amphitheater of the Grand Arena.


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    ?


    The third round of the tournament was about to begin. One team was made up of women only, and the opposing team was made up of people in disguises.


    The manager of the girls'' team made his choice. Olabunmi was chosen to fight the first match. She was a young woman with very dark skin. Her hair, in blue dreadlocks, was tied in a ponytail with a greenish ribbon. Her body was robust and curvy. She wore faded jeans that were torn at the knees. She wore a similarly colored halter top with a golden band between her breasts.


    A short fighter called Eji had been chosen from the team of underdogs. His earth-colored hooded cape and clay mask hid his face. His two expressive eyes showed through the two holes in the terracotta mask.


    The two walked over, stood facing each other and stared at each other. The signal to start the fight was given. Olabunmi immediately made an offensive move. But his opponent remained calm and raised his right hand to curb the enemy''s advance.


    "What are you doing, boy? I''m not going to take it out on you just because you''re a kid."


    "Hunf¡­ you fool. You''re the only child here. Young people these days no longer know what it means to respect their elders. You should know that, since you''re a medium."


    "After all, did you come to fight or not?"


    "What made you come to this tournament, Olabunmi?"


    A drop of sweat trickled down her face, ran down her cheek and almost reached her thick lips.


    "Difficult times demand difficult choices of us. I can''t survive being hunted like an animal by the authorities. If I show my worth here, with my potential, I could even become a phalangite."


    "The best choice you''ve made to survive is to join up with your enemy. It''s a shame."


    Eji shook his head, disconsolate. This angered Olabunmi. Her spirit appeared behind her. It was a woman in a long, white and blue dress. She wore a torso of bluish colors, and brown and white Conch beads.


    "Iyabotokun, lady who was born amidst the oceans, and to the oceans she has returned. Pour your sacred waters of strength into me, and may my waves carry away the strength of my enemies. Firm Spirit."


    The two women became one. The medium spread her Ax¨¦ in the room and concentrated the water molecules around her.


    "Water Whip."


    He modeled everything on a water whip. His strategy was simple: hit his opponent from a distance. Even if he retreated, she could extend her weapon to hit the enemy.


    She cracked the whip on the ground, Eji realized that it was as solid as those made of reinforced leather. The young woman struck, and instead of his opponent fleeing, he just held on to the whip, which coiled around his forearm like a snake. Olabunmi tried to pull him away, but couldn''t. The other seemed to weigh tons. She tried with both hands, to no avail.


    "How can someone so small be so strong?"


    "If that''s all your strength is, girl, you''d better give up while you''re ahead."


    "No fucking way!"


    The medium concentrated her Ax¨¦ along the whip, and emitted an electric discharge. The water, as a good electrical conductor, intensified the electrocution. Eji was hit hard. Even with the electric currents coursing through his body, he didn''t seem to be suffering any effects.


    "I told you to give up."


    With a wave of his hand, he caused the electric current to return and hit Olabunmi. The medium was electrocuted by her own blow for the first time. The unprecedented event left her bewildered. No other person had struck back. The inside of her body was dehydrated. Immersed in the pool of water, she had a series of muscle spasms that caused an avulsion. Her heart began to fibrillate.


    "It''s a shame for a medium to serve the interests of the enemy so willingly. The greatest enemy is the one born within."


    Eji left the ring. On the other side, a team of paramedics climbed in. Despite respiratory failure, the medium would survive. She looked at him. The tranquilizer was already entering her veins, and the tracheal intubation process was beginning. She had time to dismiss one last thought: ''He was a medium too, but not an ordinary one¡­''.

 Song 83: Time to stop

    Eji walked towards his teammates. The other two were waiting to be selected by the monitor. One of them, Okan, was a young woman, the other, Meta, had an androgynous appearance. The latter, in a manly voice with an effeminate timbre, said:


    "It could have taken a bit longer, we need to keep up appearances."


    "I couldn''t help myself, that mediumic said she was going to join Ojwang."


    Okan clapped his hands, rose from his seat and walked towards the ring.


    "Well, now it''s my turn. Let''s see if I can beat Mr. Eji''s record."


    "Argh! You''re not taking me seriously, are you?"


    "Not at all, Meta."


    Okan climbed into the ring. On the other side was a young woman wearing a camouflage uniform and high boots. She sported a military haircut. There were several holsters on her body and sheaths with daggers. Her name was Nyota, and she was an expert knife thrower. Seeing her opponent in a daze, she pulled a knife from its sheath and licked the blade.


    "You have the advantage, but I''m going to tie things up now."


    "Dream on, girl! Veil of Reality."


    A dense cloud of Ax¨¦ emanated from Okan''s body. It filled the ring from floor to ceiling. It spread like a plasma mist. The ionized gas blurred vision due to the large amount of energy scattering particles in all directions. Inside, not even the best tracking equipment would work.


    Her opponent was intimidated. Nyota came at Okan with all her blades. The camera drones couldn''t pick up anything, not even thermographic or night vision. All that was left was the audio. There was an intense sound of fighting and stabbing.


    Suddenly, everything fell silent. The plasma mist disappeared. Okan stood in the same place, as if he hadn''t moved. Nyota, unlike her opponent, had several bruises all over her body. She was bleeding from her nose and the corner of her mouth. All her knives had been thrown at her enemy, but none had hit their target. Okan said:


    "Looks like it''s two-nil on the scoreboard now."


    "You cow! It''s impossible. I hit you with all my blades. I saw you fall to the ground, begging not to die. What kind of witch are you?"


    "Unfortunately, your aim is grimy."


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    Okan turned her back on her opponent with disdain. This angered Nyota. She pulled out one last knife and threw it at the other woman''s back. Okan crumbled into a pile of plasma particles. The real one came up behind the mercenary and kicked her in the ribs, sending her rolling several meters.


    "Tsc-tsc, I was hoping you''d have given up by now."


    Nyota fell unconscious to the ground. Victory was declared for Okan. She retreated from the ring of the Grand Arena, and the medical team removed her unconscious opponent. The last fight of the third round was decided. Meta and Shakarri climbed into the ring.


    Shakarri Lewis Whitaker-Hagler was an African-American MMA world champion. With her six feet and eighty-seven kilos of pure muscle, she imposed fear in octagons around the world. Her distinctive hair was somewhere between a mohawk and black power. She wore black gloves with red flames on the top of the cuff, and shorts in the color of her country''s flag.


    She was heir to one of the largest martial arts academies in the United States. In the second half of the 20th century, when boxing dominated television and boxers began to star in movies, the Whitaker-Hagler family became famous in the rings and in the gyms. They began to offer sponsorship to boxers.


    However, with the spread of MMA in the 1990s, boxing saw its audience decline. In order not to lose their momentum, the Whitaker-Haglers began to invest in MMA, when the rest of the boxing community turned a blind eye. The family reaped good rewards from the investment and maintained influence in both worlds.


    However, from the day she was put in charge of the family business, she was rejected by the community and the brand''s investors. Shakarri was hostile to the press, got involved in sex scandals with men and women, took drugs and alcohol at parties, and evaded taxes.


    He diluted a large part of the family estate with his hyper-consumerist fetish. Due to the strength of her legacy, it was impossible to remove her from the throne. But the queen has fallen. Caught in an anti-doping test, she was expelled from the sports league and from the management of the Whitaker-Hagler gym chain.


    She wasn''t in the Big Arena to get back on her feet or turn things around. There was no redemption in her story. The underground fight was the only stage she had left.


    Facing Meta, she stretched her arms, flexed her legs and jogged around her side of the ring. He was practicing his martial rite before the fight. Useless in that place, but the force of habit is always greater than conscience. Seeing the crowd and having an enemy in front of her made her forget that she was out of shape, that she hadn''t trained in years.


    "All right, let''s get started."


    "It''s already started, darling."


    Meta raised one leg, crossed it, then the other, and floated in the air like a Buddhist monk. Shakarri stood guard. He bent his knees a little, held his breath and unleashed a right straight at his opponent. Her opponent dodged. The fighter made a pendulum swing, waiting for a counter-attack that didn''t come.


    She threw a left uppercut, but the other dodged, without moving. The woman threw a right cross at Meta''s face, to no avail. She took advantage of this moment to apply a knee to his ribs.


    "Mirror Shield."


    Before she could hit him, a circle of silver energy appeared. The reflective surface revealed what had happened. On touching the shield, the force Shakarri applied was converted into repulsive energy and applied against the attacker''s body. The African-American didn''t shy away, she went for it with a sequence of jabs and rights.


    She complemented these sequences with knees to Meta''s abdomen and side kicks. All of them ran into the mirrored shields that made her attacks turn against her. The air began to penetrate her lungs like a handful of needles. Age and lack of training took their toll.


    Her heart rate went through the roof. In his youth, Meta would have been an incredible opponent. She probably had a chance of winning, but in that state, she would have been massacred. For those expecting a great fight, she raised her injured arm and said:


    "I give up."


    "I thought you''d be more stubborn, Miss Whitaker-Hagler."


    "You''re not an ordinary fighter¡­ are you?"


    Meta smiled and moved from her floating position to walk in the opposite direction. Shakarri shivered. Even with that string of blows, she hadn''t hit any of them. Meta''s Of¨® was only visible to people with mediumistic arts. For a boxer, she was fighting someone invincible, untouchable and of superhuman strength.


    She left the ring. The fourth round was about to begin. She walked out feeling all the pain of the fight and the shame of having been overtaken by history. He shook his head. When he returned to America, he would have a good story to tell. She fumbled in the pockets of her shorts. She was itching for a cigarette.

 Song 84: The victory of a defeated man

    The Neo Axis team was going to fight. Their presence caused annoyance and booing from the crowd. It was an ''exotic'' group.


    The Greco-Roman wrestler C¨¦sar VXII wore a knitted jumpsuit in the colors of the Roman Empire. On the chest of the jumpsuit, there was the print VIXI in gold letters in a flashy font, which in Roman means ''I have lived''. It was an anagram of the Roman numeral. It was used as an epitaph on many tombstones.


    The number seventeen in Italy became an unlucky number, so the Italian wrestler adopted it to intimidate his opponents. It was a poetic way of saying that he would be the tombstone that would bury their dreams. It reinforced his violent character, a fighter who cared more about promoting violence against his opponent than fighting. He had been excluded from the Olympics for killing an opponent.


    His face was coarse, with an angular chin and hollow eyes. His red hair covered his face like a mane of curly strands. His thick eyebrows seemed to swallow up part of his forehead. As a reference to the Roman Empire, he wore a laurel wreath.


    He was selected to take the stage in the Great Arena. The opposing team''s manager had selected Ethiopian Tsehai Habtamu, a Donga expert. The slender woman, with curly, dark and full hair, was tied up in a brown bandana with jewels and seed necklaces.


    She was wearing the traditional dress of the women of the Omo Valley. On her arms and legs, she wore a shield of interwoven threads. With both hands, she wielded the Donga stick. The weapon, carved out of wood, is a flexible stick measuring around one meter eighty.


    Seeing his opponent, C¨¦sar rotated his right arm as if preparing to attack. Tsehai kept his guard up.


    "I was expecting a real fighter, not a savage with a wand in her hand. What are you going to do, rustle cattle? Huohuohuohuo."


    "I''m going to tangle him back into the old boot he should never have left. The history of fighting between Italians and Ethiopians is bad for you. It''s going to be three-nil today."


    "You bitch!"


    The fighter advanced against the Ethiopian. She didn''t panic, she waited until the last minute and dodged his grip. To brake her body, he spread both hands and slammed them into the wall.


    Plash! She gave him a hard backhand. The sound of the slap echoed through the air. A second blow was delivered, this time aimed at his head. C¨¦sar turned around. He managed to catch the end of the stick with one hand and tried to lift it upwards with the other. However, the stick was flexible. He dragged it towards himself, but Tsehai held the tug-of-war.


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    "Let go! You don''t know how to use it."


    She turned the stick. Caesar VXII''s hands trembled. He was forced to drop the staff. Tsehai backed away. She knew how disadvantageous it was for her to fight a fighter who specialized in immobilizations.


    C¨¦sar XVII felt the ropes burn to the point of tears coming to his eyes. He hit his chest with his fists closed. He ran towards the Ethiopian fighter. The attack was in vain. The woman was much faster and more agile than the big man. She slammed her staff into both of his knees. The fighter felt the damage to his joints. He tumbled across the ring and hit his head on the opposite wall. He struggled like an animal.


    The fighter didn''t let his guard down. She kept her stick up. She was an experienced fighter. Tsehai had been a fighting instructor in the Ethiopian Armed Forces. She had deserted after one of the many civil wars that had devastated her country. She refused to teach Donga so that her compatriots could kill each other. In the tournament, she was looking for enough money to start her life again.


    Her mastery of the martial art was legendary. For many, it had ceased to exist in the country when it was banned by law in 1994. But Donga''s disputes continued among the Surma people in the Omo Valley.


    The Ethiopian government, unable to put an end to the practice, ended up allowing traditional fighting, as long as the Surma shared their knowledge with the state. Martial arts scholars systematized Donga and included it in the training of the Ethiopian military.


    The Donga aimed to hit the opponent''s sides with successive, quick and powerful blows with a stick. Those aimed at the head could be lethal.


    Tsehai had a tactic: to tire out the enemy by hitting him in the joints and back, and then strike a blow with all his might to the opponent''s head. The more fiddling he did, the more painful the fight would be.


    "Huohuohuo, I didn''t expect a filth like you to waste so much of my time."


    "Come on, I haven''t got all day."


    The fighter got up from the ground. He wiped the blood dripping from his forehead. He broke into a wild, clumsy run. He leaned forward and tucked his head under both hands. Like a projectile, she sprinted towards her opponent.


    The Ethiopian threw a flurry of blows at the big man. That didn''t stop him from attacking. Tsehai had no time to retreat. C¨¦sar charged in with a single-leg takedown. He rested his left knee on the ground, the thigh muscles of his right leg straight. The instep of his right foot rested on the floor of the ring. Her left arm went behind her opponent''s leg, and her right hand locked her knee like a wrench.


    The woman hit him several times with the stick, but he no longer felt the pain. He was too excited by the success of his attack. Tsehai jumped with her leg free, but was knocked to the ground. The big man jumped on top of her. The Ethiopian tried to get away, but couldn''t. With her back pressed to the ground, she was immobilized by his weight.


    He locked her neck with an armlock. Her opponent began to suffocate, she wouldn''t let go of the stick. She raised it in the air and tried to strike, but she didn''t have the strength. Her breathing became choppy. Her cheeks inflated to fill with air, but her airways remained compressed.


    Tsehai struggled. As life left her, she saw her former pupils killed in battle around her. Tears flowed from her eyes. Each of them carried their Donga staff. They sang the battle hymns and waved them in the air. When they banged their sticks on the floor, a ''cracking'' sound echoed through the air. She joined them in the afterlife.


    Victory was declared for the Greco-Roman wrestler. Caesar XVII raised the corpse in the air as if it were a trophy. He noticed that the crowd was booing him. This wounded him to the core of his vanity.


    "Ah! Savages, you don''t know what real martial arts is. Take your trash back."


    Threw Tsehai towards the stands. Before her body hit anyone, Ali Omar Khalid caught her in mid-air. C¨¦sar XVII turned around and made a gesture of contempt. The man set Tsehai''s corpse down near the medical team. He walked without any hurry. He climbed into the ring, it was his turn to fight Tora-Tora.

 Song 85: The devil is in the details

    Thabit smoked his shisha with pleasure, and shared it with the two top models who accompanied him. Tuponili had enjoyed the fight, but he didn''t show it. He didn''t want to give his enemy the upper hand. When he saw Tora-Tora facing Ali Omar Khalid, he drummed his fingers on his thigh. He had bet against the ninja.


    "Your fighter looks a bit down. He looks like someone beat him with a blender and flushed him down a toilet."


    "Now, my friend, ninjas are sons of Shaytan. But pay attention to Ali Omar Khalid, he can do something stupendous!"


    "Something¡­ stupendous?"


    "Yes, Ali Omar Khalid was an applied Sufi. He studied the mystical and esoteric currents of Islam for years. After a failed exorcism ritual in the Sinai desert, he strayed from the path of Allah. If the legend is correct, he has acquired powers beyond our comprehension."


    Tuponili crossed his fingers. He looked at the ex-suffragette and at the ninja, weighing them up with his eyes. He remained confident.


    As they watched, the two fighters did the same thing. On the right was the Japanese man. He wore an iron mask, lined with silk. He wanted to avoid fragility by hiding his wound. His jaw had been crushed by General Luena''s hands. The wound could become a prime target for enemy attacks.


    On the other side was Ali Omar Khalid. He had dark skin, and a long, curly beard filled out his chin. He wore an orange-toned kandora, the closed collar of which had a personalized cord attached above the chest. The ghafyia was made of sheepskin, covered in red and green crochet, with palm trees embroidered on the sides. Her feet wore white naals made of camel skin.


    He was dressed in typical Omani attire. He was unarmed and wore a peaceful countenance. Nothing stood out about Ali Omar Khalid apart from a gold ring on his ring finger.


    Tora-Tora rested his hand on the handle of the tachi. The sword, an ancestor of the katana, was used by the samurai cavalry of the Heian Era. Heavier, curved and longer than the katana, its balance point is closer to the guard. The ninja would use it for a laijutsu attack, which was not recommended due to the low hardness of its blade.


    Laijutsu, as an art of rapid drawing of the sword, was created by samurai in the Edo era to enable quick attack and defense, with maximum economy of movement. The art evolved to the point where it became an autonomous discipline within Japanese fencing. The ninja were not immune to its influence and incorporated it into their arsenal of deadly techniques.


    The technique used by Tora-Tora was adapted to tachi. Instead of holding the sword with his left hand closed and his fingers down, he held it the other way around, with his hand closed and his fingers up. The blow, usually a stock, or upward cut, whether vertical or transverse, or even straight horizontal, was the expected one.


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    However, the defecting ninja used a straight horizontal uppercut applied after standing side by side with his opponent. Impossible to predict until he was hit. It was with this technique that he cut several men in half.


    I''ll end this in a single blow.


    He grasped the handle of the tachi with his left hand, and his right hand in the scabbard. Emitting a wheezing breath like Darth Vader, he prepared himself. He planted his right foot forward, with the sole firmly planted on the ground. His left leg extended like a lever, with the instep resting against the ring. He advanced like lightning.


    Ali didn''t see it coming. Before he could react, the tachi grazed his sheath. Slinz, the metallic sound echoed in the air. To Tora-Tora''s surprise, the blade caught on something invisible. The Islamist looked at him and said:


    "I don''t have to lift a finger to defend myself against you."


    The ex-suffragette''s eyes blackened and became two coruscating spheres. A dark soot was emitted from Ali''s pores and accumulated on top of his head. The ninja tried unsuccessfully to remove the sword. The blade began to melt and became a puddle of liquid steel on the ground. Tora-Tora let go of the sword handle and stepped back.


    When the oriental assassin raised his eyes, a huge red-black mass solidified and took on a humanoid shape.


    "Behold mortal, this is the one who will dig your grave."


    "Yes, my master. We will fight together once more, and may our enemies be turned to ash."


    "Yes, Malek Ifrit, let''s show this coward your power."


    Malek Ifrit was a jinn king. His body of steam and fire granted him a threshold existence between the ethereal angels and the sulphurous demons. Floating behind and above Ali Omar Khalid from the waist up, he resembled a bald man with a ponytail and a pointed goatee. His eyes were yellowish and terrible.


    From the waist down, it was a dark smoke that was fed by the vapors that emerged from Ali''s body. The man''s skin sweated as if everything was boiling under his skin. Malek Ifrit opened his mouth and spewed out sulphurous fire. The flames devoured everything in their path, and part of the ring was melted with the wall in front of it.


    Tora-Tora threw several kunai at the creature, but its flaming skin melted the weapons as they touched it. The man changed tactics. He took out a blowgun from inside his karate-gi and blew the dart into Ali Omar Khalid''s neck. The poison didn''t even have a chance to enter his bloodstream. His body heat evaporated all the poison.


    Malek Ifrit, with his powerful arms, punched the ninja, who struggled to dodge the attacks. The heat emanating from the vaporous giant was enough to cause burns on his skin. The jinn''s limbs stretched out, making it difficult to avoid and anticipate the blows.


    The ninja grabbed several explosives and detonated them all at once. Malek Ifrit gathered a large quantity of flames in his hand and formed a fireball. He waited until he sensed the enemy''s movement. After spotting his silhouette, he fired the fireball. However, what the vaporous giant hit was Tora-Tora''s karate-gi.


    "An illusion¡­"


    "Don''t worry, my master, he won''t be able to hide from me."


    The jinn opened its mouth and sucked in all the smoke. When it was all gone, the ninja counter-offensive revealed itself. A shower of shuriken fell on Ali. Malek Ifrit shielded him with his body, but it was then that the Japanese warrior struck the final blow.


    With a kunai, he deflected the direction of a shuriken in mid-air, causing the star to sever the finger bearing Ali''s golden ring. Little by little, his metamorphosis was undone. Malek Ifrit faded away. The ex-suffragette cursed his enemy. Without his armor of flames, Ali Omar Khalid was vulnerable. He laughed as if he had gone mad.


    "How did you discover the seal that bound my soul to Malek Ifrit''s essence?"


    "Chuf¡­ Muslims¡­ chuf¡­ don''t wear¡­ chuf¡­ gold."


    He put his hands up as if invoking Allah. The wound on his finger turned into an intense hemorrhage.


    "That is the price a believer must pay for making a pact with a jinn, may the will of¡­"


    He didn''t finish his sentence. He lay in the ring of the Great Arena with his head decapitated by a wakizashi. The crowd cheered the ninja for his cold-bloodedness and bloodthirsty spectacle. Tora-Tora headed outside while the team removed the body. He waved his sword to spray the blood. He put it back in its sheath.

 Song 86: Narcissistic wound exposed

    The final match of the fourth round was to be between German Pestzart and Wanda Shani, a Swahili woman. The two faced each other. The Neo Axis member let out a loud laugh, muffled by the hideous mask he was wearing. Wanda raised an eyebrow and pointed her plump index finger at him.


    "What are you laughing at? I think you''re the only funny thing in this square meter."


    "Fosfosfos, I thought you''d fight a human being, not a hippopotamus."


    "You''re pretty confident for someone wearing a mask."


    "When I''m done with you, I''ll show you what the superior race can do to the inferior."


    "All right, then show me everything you''ve got, little man."


    Wanda was a woman weighing over two hundred kilos. That fact gave her an advantage over her opponents. Although she had no mastery of martial arts, her brute strength and her fatty skin.


    She smoothed her frizzy hair confidently. The unruly strands were pinned up in an intertwined leather tiara. Her skin was well exposed. The folds of fat were layered in different ways. Her dark top and shorts were soaked with sweat. Wanda wasn''t at all intimidated by her enemy, she was a famous illegal fighter from the East African coast, she had faced more dangerous things.


    Pestzart was dressed in the fashion of doctors during the Black Death. Instead of the long dark overcoat, he wore a suit with pointed shoulder pads and a short dark velvet pilgrimage. The long-brimmed hat and crow''s beak mask with glass eyes brought him even closer to the morbid imagery of the Renaissance.


    The German pulled several scalpels from his belt. As a career doctor-surgeon, and serial killer for pleasure.  During the day, he worked in a highly complex operating room, while at night he became a nightmare emerging from the darkness of the Berlin night. He had disemboweled a hundred young women on the streets of Berlin without ever being caught. He knew life and death, he knew how to offer them and how to take them away from the victim.


    He knew very well how difficult it was to cut through adipose tissue. He decided that he would slice her up little by little. He moved in on her, taking advantage of his speed to reach the woman''s back. He threw two handfuls of blades at her.


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    "All that effort for that, little man? That was as annoying as a swarm of mosquitoes."


    The scalpels hit Wanda''s flabby skin and fell to the floor. Pestzart stepped back to avoid being grabbed by the woman''s clawed hands. However, she managed to grab him by the peregrine. She held him in the air and threw him against the ceiling. The German went flying, hitting his back against the top of the ring. His bones cracked. He fell like a stone.


    Before he hit the ground, he was slapped upside the head. Pestzart was thrown into the opposite wall. One of the glass eyes burst. The serial killer felt pain for the first time in his life. It revolted him.


    How can someone as superior as me feel pain?


    He, who was descended from the most dedicated members of the German National Socialist Party, a member of the aristocracy from birth, a graduate of his country''s most renowned university, was now being beaten up by someone he thought was inferior. He stood up. He couldn''t accept such humiliation.


    "I can''t go back to my country, look the leaders of Neo Axis in the face and say that I lost the fight to this savage."


    "This savage here will break your ugly face!"


    "Damn¡­"


    He didn''t finish his sentence. Wanda approached and tried to grab him. Pestzart ran away, but the woman caught him by the leg. She lifted him above her head, slammed him to the ground, lifted him again, smashed him once more, and repeated until blood spurted from her opponent''s pores. Not satisfied, she threw him against the wall.


    Pestzart fell as if dead. His body struggled, but he didn''t seem to have the strength to react. Wanda raised her arms and was cheered by the crowd.


    It was at this moment of distraction that the serial killer pulled a small pistol-shaped syringe from his belt. He stuck the needle into his neck. The combat drug eased the pain, sent adrenaline into his bloodstream and sent intelligent enzyme platelets to suture the bone fractures in his body.


    He stood up, picked up a scalpel and threw it at Wanda to get her attention. She turned to her opponent, clenched her fists. She ran at him like a train. She grabbed him around the waist and lifted him up. She gave him a bear hug. Pestzart let out a scream. Wanda was amused.


    "Scream more, little man, louder, that''s it, sing to me, little bird."


    "Oh yes, I''ll sing you a sour song!"


    Pestzart activated a device in his mask. Its beak opened, and a small barrel emerged, lengthened and fired. But instead of a projectile coming out, what hit the mercenary was sulphuric acid. The corrosive substance ran down her face, down her bust. Skin, fat, flesh and bones melted.


    The pain made Wanda let go of the German. With her bare hands, in desperation, she smoothed her face. The acid burned her hands too, and her fingers fell to the floor. She paced back and forth, her screams echoing around the ring of the Grand Arena. Gradually, the acid reached her internal organs. She fell to the ground like a mountain collapsing.


    The spectators booed the German. They called him a coward and said many other insults. Pestzart was enraged by the people''s reaction. He saw the woman lying motionless on the ground, and cruelly stomped on her head. He kicked the inert body with all the contempt he felt for that part of humanity. Finally, his victory was declared. He was forcibly removed from the ring.


    Akachi, Nyatui and Fadala watched in disgust. Akachi held the sticks with all his might. Nyatui put a hand on his shoulder.


    "Control the emission of your Ax¨¦, or you''ll attract unwanted attention."


    "This guy''s an animal."


    "I know, but let''s not stoop to his level. If we fight him, we''ll show him the true meaning of inferiority."

 Song 87: Destiny en passant

    General Luena was heading for a meeting room with the other members of the Phalanx and President Ojwang. His satisfaction at his own success was oozing out of his pores. The revenue from the operations of the Grand Arena fighting tournament had exceeded all her expectations.


    What made her curious was that Ojwang only held meetings of this kind when there were big announcements. The organizational chart of the projects and stipulated goals were forwarded to the intranet, which was exclusively accessible to his three generals and himself. Although it was almost impossible to doubt the loyalty of Gahiji and Jitujeusi, this type of meeting posed greater risks than those held in a controlled virtual environment. Luena was wary of the worst.


    Personal meetings could be spied on by eavesdroppers and infiltrators. People could be bribed or blackmailed to steal information. For these reasons, she made a point of spying on her subordinates to avoid such problems. If she suspected someone, she would retaliate before they turned against her and Ilu Nla.


    For this efficiency and prudence, which bordered on war paranoia, she had become the most ruthless head of the State Intelligence Service. Ojwang spared no resources in her sector, and showed no reticence in her strategic capabilities.


    Her self-confidence made her enter the room in a tone of triumph. Ojwang gestured for her to sit down. Luena watched the others, Gahiji looked nervous, although he didn''t want to show it, his biocybernetic muscles were tensing. His fists clenched and unclenched in involuntary contraction. He noticed Jitujeusi''s tired countenance, he was working hard in the military laboratories after his failure with the Circle of Sages.


    Ojwang puffed on his cigar and looked at all his generals. He put out his cigar with irritation.


    "Looking at the Phalanx that day, I have ambiguous feelings."


    General Luena looked at Gahiji, but he couldn''t help feeling some satisfaction at seeing him in a corner.


    "So far, we''ve raised a trillion Credibits, an eighth of our annual Gross Domestic Product. Isn''t that incredible? There''s nothing more profitable than bread and circuses! Hohoho."


    Only Luena followed Ojwang''s smile. The other two generals looked at her as if they wanted to shoot her in the eye. The president was keen to create an internal competition between them. Prevented from beheading each other, the way they had found to bury their opponent was to become even more efficient.


    In this way, the man kept them engaged in the execution of his plans. In his various stages, he needed these pieces. The board without the knight, bishop and rook leaves the king too vulnerable. Ojwang occupied a privileged position, and one of double danger: he was the player and the king. His moves were even more calculated than any chess player.


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    "It''s good to know that someone is doing their job properly."


    "Thank you, sir. My sector and I will do everything in our power to bring about the new world free of mediums and oppression that you once envisioned."


    "General Luena, about the rumors of members of the failed Ilu Nla Liberation Movement at the tournament, how active are they?"


    "None whatsoever, sir. So far, their presence has not been identified."


    "The Circle of Sages hasn''t shown up either?"


    "Not at all! Even if they did, we''d be ready for them. They''re a bunch of cowards and arrogant bastards. They would never dare infiltrate the tournament, it would be counterintuitive. Tomorrow the fifth round starts, I''ll shake things up a bit."


    "That''s fine, I trust you. Genera Luena, General Jitujeusi, you''re dismissed. As for General Gahiji, I''d like him to stay."


    Ojwang turned his back on them and walked back to the window. He crossed his arms behind his back.


    Before he left the room, Jitujeusi bumped his shoulder into Gahiji and snarled between his teeth:


    "It''s because of you that the Phalanx is becoming a laughing stock among its enemies. Even the head bitch is doing better than you."


    "Don''t you dare challenge me. We already know the outcome of a dispute between us."


    "A battle in a virtual simulation is not the same as on the real battlefield."


    Jitujeusi left through the double door and closed it with his clawed hands. Finally, Ojwang turned to Gahiji.


    "I''ve made up my mind about you, general."


    The man swallowed. He had already proven his loyalty; he would not accept being treated unfairly.


    "Mr. President, I''d like to take responsibility for my little slip-up in relation to your orders. A single failure cannot erase a career of successes¡­"


    "I''m tired of excuses. You come to me with the news that you''ve lost your entire Phalangeta, four of our best special operations men. The loss of those human lives was overwhelming for us, General Gahiji."


    "I understand the extent of my failure, sir. You know I can remedy that."


    "I don''t want palliative treatments, let''s remove a cancer that''s gangreneing Ilu Nla''s body before it metastasizes."


    "Are you referring to the sages?"


    "No, this is another cancer that we have to wipe off the face of the earth. I''m talking about the Ilu Nla Liberation Movement. We are neglecting this internal threat."


    For Ojwang, although the urban guerrillas were outnumbered, they were a political-ideological threat. As for the Circle of Sages, holding the Seven Keys of the Spirit, they formed a much greater power threat, although there were only five of them.


    "It''s true, they channel popular tensions in favor of their cause."


    "We need to keep public opinion trending positively in our favor, otherwise we''ll always be back to square one. I need you to take care of that as soon as possible."


    Ojwang ordered him to coordinate the operation of total suppression of the guerrillas with the Intelligence Service. All subversive agents were to be executed for the good of Ilu Nla. There were to be no witnesses or survivors. He would have as many cybersoldiers and equipment at his disposal as he needed.


    "I want this operation to start after the Grand Arena tournament, General Luena will supervise the actions."


    "One general overseeing another¡­ that''s dispensable, Mr. President."


    "No, it''s not! You''re dismissed, General Gahiji. Ah, if you fail a second time, you''d better not return to Ilu Nla."

 Song 88: Combining results

    Tuponili invited his fighters to his cabin for a meeting. Akachi, Fadala and Nyatui felt tired from everything they had seen in the last few fights, but decided to keep up appearances. They went to the box and listened to what the manager had to say. He had set up a dinner table and opened a bottle of sparkling wine.


    "You''ve made me a few million richer. Come, drink some champagne with me!"


    Fadala and Nyatui looked at each other. They soon realized what this was all about. The man hadn''t called them to praise them, he wanted to ask them something.


    "Mr. Trent, your performance was exceptional. You should have come to me sooner."


    "Thank you, Mr. Tuponili."


    "Look, listen. I''ve devised a scheme where we''ll earn double, or even triple. Your earnings will be even greater."


    Akachi was the only one who didn''t quite understand the direction of the conversation. He crossed his arms and asked:


    "Scheme, what scheme?"


    "Oh, Mr. Fenyang, you know how it is, just business. You''ve done very well so far, but we need to put the brakes on. There are bigger interests involved, and a lot of money involved."


    "I don''t understand what you''re getting at¡­"


    "He wants to arrange the outcome of the next fights in the fifth round."


    Akachi looked at Fadala in surprise. As far as the young medium was concerned, there was no reason for them to hand over the points before he could infiltrate them. He decided that he would deny such an offer, but before he could speak, the undertaker gestured for him to be silent.


    "How much are we talking about?"


    "Millions of Credibits. You don''t have to give up before you get in the ring. Deliver the fight, make a little scene, before that, cheer up the crowd. Then pretend to be down, too fragile to continue. Give up, I promise you''ll make a lot of money out of it."


    Nyatui''s muscles tensed. They emitted a crunching sound. He decided not to speak, he was too nervous, and if he tried to counter-argue, he would break Tuponili''s face. Agreeing on the outcome of a fight was a tremendous offense for those who sat on the Throne of Force.


    "Don''t worry, Mr. Trent. This has been going on for years at the Grand Arena fighting tournament. In fact, many fighters only come here for the money. Those recruited by General Luena don''t seem to have a very happy ending."


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    Fadaal raised an eyebrow. He winked at Tuponili; that information could be useful.


    "What are you talking about, you''re not trying to make us give up, are you?"


    "Oh, no, believe me! There are rumors that these fighters are turned into¡­ I don''t know, they become guinea pigs for perfecting cybernetic supersoldiers. They become some kind of high-tech combat cyborg. It''s likely that those defeated in the tournament, if still alive, will suffer the same fate."


    Tuponili dragged on a cigar. He was in full condition to splurge. He let out a puff of pleasure. He smoothed his short hair and said:


    "Don''t let me down, tomorrow will be a great day."


    "Thank you, Mr. Tuponili. We will."


    "Ah, Mr. Fadala, don''t you dare make fun. You know what happens when a dog tries to bite its master''s hand."


    "Yes, I do. Leave it to us, sir."


    "You can go, sleep with the angels, or the devils, if you like."


    The trio stood up. They left the private cabin. They made their way leisurely to their bedrooms. Along the way, they took the opportunity to chat. They couldn''t obey Tuponili''s orders. A thud echoed down the gray corridor. Fadala and Akachi turned around. Nyatui had slammed his fist into the wall.


    "Bastard! Who does he think he is to ask us to do this? You should have beaten him up."


    Fadala loosened his navy blue tie. Everyone was tense, even the hitman was not immune to it. The trio were on enemy ground, on a difficult infiltration mission, and containing their greatest skills during fights so as not to compromise themselves. Apart from the fact that there was no external support, there was no chance of a safe retreat if they failed.


    "Something like this was foreseen. For Tuponili, we were nothing more than opportunistic fighters. I know this hurts the pride of a former savior, but reconsider. Let''s not throw everything away now. There''s too much at stake."


    "I know, Fadala. I''m just not used to doing things this way."


    "Nostalgia is a problem these days."


    Akachi listened to the whole discussion. His eyelids closed, and his thoughts drifted to his father. He leaned against the wall, removed his glasses and wiped them on his shirt. The lenses became even foggier.


    "I hope Mashal, Feruzi and Spin Bomb are okay. Have they reached the urban guerrilla hideout?"


    "I think so."


    Fadala was curious about a subject that hadn''t yet been touched upon.


    "In case we are discovered, or need to flee at some point, how will we get to the hideout?"


    "Rest assured, I have the exact location right here."


    Nyatui raised an arm and pointed his index finger at his head. A drop of sweat trickled down his teammates'' temples. Fadala shouted:


    "What if you die? We won''t be able to find the others. Tell us the location."


    "Are you already counting on my death? What an ugly thing to do, undertaker! Don''t worry, I''m a tough old man."


    Fadala clenched his fists. Akachi smiled at all that overconfidence. They made it the last few meters of the corridor and went to their rooms.


    "I hope no ninja come to visit me tonight."


    "They won''t, Akachi, none of them. They fought today, they''re more tired than we are."


    "I hope you''re right, Fadala."


    Akachi went into his room. He locked the door with the magnetic key. He pulled the handle twice to make sure. He flicked the switches. He went to the bathroom sink and washed his face. He went to the bed and lay down on his stomach. He rested his right forearm on his forehead. Tomorrow would be the start of the fifth round. He didn''t know what to expect.


    The enemies were more dangerous and more willing to win. He rubbed his chest. The zits of the Scratched Point Magic concealed the metal exoskeleton, but not the key in his chest. He picked up the Spiritual Key of Faith and smoothed out the pentagram that adorned its base. Akachi was at that moment the bearer of his people''s greatest faith, he could not fail

 Song 89: New blood flowing through old arteries

    To increase the excitement of the fifth round of fights, General Luena had a brilliant idea. He would intersperse the six semi-final fights on a single day. This would force the bookers to make quicker decisions, and would bring a strong sense of unpredictability to the paying public and punters.


    The bookers would have to make a prior selection of the fighters, and would not be able to change the order on the day. For the first fight, Tuponili selected Akachi. The young medium would face Countess Bloody Mary. The English witch had lost her last fight. She had lost the fight, as well as a hand and an eye.


    Despite this handicap, she was still an exceptional fighter. Her ability to control her own blood and turn it into weapons created a constant sense of danger.


    When both fighters climbed into the ring of the Grand Arena, and the starting signal was given, her first action was to remove the bandanas from the severed hand. The witch, in deep intonation, evoked the dark forces that granted her power. The dark aura of her patron demon followed behind her.


    "O rex Azazel! Qui bibit meum sanguinem et tribuit mihi benedictiones tuas, ut plus effundatur sanguis in nomine tuo, Sanguinis Libels."


    Bloody Mary took her dagger from her waist and struck the wound, causing blood to gush everywhere.


    Fenyang appeared next to Akachi. He hated that evil presence taking the ring by storm.


    "Here she comes, bro."


    "I''m ready."


    Adsa''s son drew his two sticks, slammed them down and waited for the enemy to attack. From the open wound, blood began to bubble, solidifying into a nine-pointed whip.


    "Listen, kid, I''m not going to make the same mistake I made with the other one. I''m going to execute you quickly and painfully."


    "I won''t make a mistake either."


    "Why, you!"


    She cracked the end of the whip on the ground, platch. She spun in the air and launched an attack. Akachi dodged effortlessly. Droplets of blood were sprayed on the ring floor. The countess attacked a second time, to no avail. The third time, she extended the whip even further and hit the wall behind Azekel''s grandson.


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    Akachi, she''s throwing her filthy blood all over the ring, watch out.


    I get it, it''s a trap. Maybe she can control her own blood, even from a distance.


    The countess attacked again and again, but Akachi dodged. He could only circle his target, without reducing the distance between them. In a moment of carelessness, he stepped in a pool of blood that she had produced. At that moment, she made a gesture with her fingers, and the bloody puddle turned into a carpet of red nails. Akachi injured the outside of his ankle.


    The pain slowed him down. The countess took advantage of this and charged at him. Akachi raised one of the sticks, and instead of the ends of the whip wrapping around his neck, they clung to the stick. Bloody Mary laughed. From the wound, she pumped out a jet of blood that made the tips of the whip turn into snakes.


    They struck Akachi. The medium electrocuted the tip of the other stick and gave the whip an electric discharge. Before the discharge reached her, the woman undid the whip. She pumped more blood into the wound and generated a halberd, as long as a grown man.


    She scraped the blade on the floor and ran towards her opponent. She grabbed half of the handle with her other hand and struck. The boy avoided the cut by jumping over the halberd. The blade, shaped like the edge of an axe, stuck in the wall. As she tried to disengage the weapon, Akachi tried to strike her neck. She turned around, the stick coming straight for her neck.


    "Damn you!"


    ?


    MI6 agents, in the service of Her Royal Majesty of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, had been given the highest and most dangerous task: to arrest Countess Bloody Mary. The aristocrat was resting in the fall in one of her estates, a 13th century castle, inherited from her long lineage.


    The witch lived in isolation, receiving visitors only from the cultists of her coven and billionaires who could afford her advice and supernatural services. She had few employees, who remained loyal to her through threats and witchcraft. The countess had not been present at social events for many years.


    It was thanks to a meticulous investigation involving the country''s top police authorities that the link between her disappearance and the disappearance of young English women became clear.


    The government agents took the only two employees of the house, a young maid and an old chauffeur, who had their tongues cut out and were living in a hypnotic state. Either because she had foreseen this would happen at some point in her life, or because she was overconfident, she was caught red-handed.


    The head of the operation found her in a tub of blood. She didn''t seem to notice the two armed men at the bathroom door. The head of the operation straightened his sunglasses and cleared his throat. The metallic smell of young blood filled the atmosphere.


    "Milady, you gave us a hard time, but we caught you. The victims'' corpses were found dissected and hung like smoked herrings in the cellar.


    "What do you think, isn''t it a beautiful study in red, sir?"


    "Oh, certainly. But I''d rather have all that blood irrigating the veins of our beautiful young English women. Tell me, madam, why did you commit such crimes? You are beautiful, you have a lot of money."


    "Sir, you know very well that a woman is worth her youth. Since some don''t take advantage of it as they should, and lose it quickly, why not take it for myself?"


    "It''s all about selfishness these days."


    She stood up from the bathtub. The two agents behind the head of the operation pointed their guns at her, but the other gestured for them to put their weapons down. She put on a silk robe. Apart from the redness, only her blue eyes and whitish teeth were visible.


    "I don''t believe you came here to debate aesthetics, sir."


    "No, ma''am. Your crimes are countless, and unforgivable too. However, we''ve come here to make you a proposal¡­"


    "Proposal? I''m willing to listen, sir."

 Song 90: An electrifying conclusion

    The tungsten rod was about to crash into the countess''s neck. However, the witch had prepared for this. She could control all that blood splattered all over the ring. The various puddles that the witch had formed over the course of the fight turned into chains, which trapped Akachi''s arms.


    "What?"


    The Englishwoman removed her halberd from the wall and turned to the young medium. She raised the weapon above her head, spun it like a helicopter propeller. He prepared a downward cross-cut.


    Adsa''s son tried to resist as much as he could, to no avail. The chains were too strong to break with sheer brute force. Tired of struggling, he put one knee on the ground.


    "Hihihihi, it''s no use, these chains are stronger than reinforced steel. Now is the moment when I behead you."


    Zlush! He attacked with the halberd. At the same moment, with his knee on the ground, Akachi leapt up and somersaulted, causing his two feet to kick the witch''s chin. The chains snapped back and the blade cut through them. Azekel''s grandson stepped back.


    Bloody Mary had a nosebleed. Her dark dress was splattered with blood. Her appearance was becoming increasingly gloomy. Her chest was convulsing and veins were throbbing beneath her pale skin. Her head began to throb in an inhuman way. She pulled out the dagger and pierced various parts of his body with it.


    Red streaks ran down her skin. Her eye socket rolled back. She couldn''t help but feel a morbid pleasure from it all.


    What is she doing, Fenyang?


    She manipulates blood to forge weapons. By making her whole body bleed, she increases her attack range and decreases her blind spots. Avoid close-range attacks.


    You got it!


    "I will sacrifice you in the name of Azazel!"


    Akachi approached, close enough to test the range of her attack, and far enough away to dodge the blows. As he appeared in any direction, the trickles of blood that flowed from the various punctures turned into nails that flew towards the countess.


    The medium dodged, and with his great speed, appeared in another direction. Akachi could continue this tactic until her enemy tired of it and could no longer use her witchcraft. However, her opponent realized the ruse and also changed her stance. Instead of projectiles, the fillets of blood became tentacles with propellers at the ends.


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    The range was shorter, but the countess manipulated them to chase Akachi. The powerful propellers scraped the floor, the ceiling, and debris flew everywhere. The camera drones struggled to record the images.


    Akachi retreated even further. Now he was getting tired of the conflict. He gasped and inhaled deeply. He had tried to memorize the movements of the blood tentacles, but was unable to distinguish a pattern of attack. Its movements were intuitive and adapted to the medium''s own attack patterns.


    "If you give up now, you can still save your life."


    "If you give up now, you could still come out unscathed."


    "You called me ''ma''am''? How dare you? Young man, you have no nobility in you. People like you shouldn''t even have been born."


    Break this bitch''s face now, Akachi!


    Look, I was holding back until now, but after this, I can''t.


    Akachi concentrated his Ax¨¦ on the tips of the sticks, turned his fists and triggered the weapon''s electrocution. The rays gradually concentrated into a sphere. At first, it shrank and grew in size. The electrical force was unstable, and the sphere insisted on deforming. The floor around Akachi began to sink.


    What are you doing?


    Something I''ve wanted to test for a long time.


    You''re concentrating the Ax¨¦ out of your body and trying to keep it, that''s dangerous, brou.


    Enough talk Fenyang, we''re not far away.


    Blue rays cut through the atmosphere around him. His hair began to stand on end. The sphere stabilized after a few seconds of confusion. Akachi raised the electric sphere to his chest. With his knees bent, he concentrated repulsive force on the tungsten rods, without letting go.


    The witch watched the whole scene. She threw her head back proudly and laughed wildly. She saw the whole thing as a bluff.


    "What kind of pyrotechnic show is this? All this drama won''t do me any good."


    She concentrated the blood on her back and formed four large spider legs. From her severed arm, she generated a spiral harpoon. Swiftly, she leapt from the ceiling, from the ceiling to the walls and from the walls to the floor of the Great Arena ring. It was a way of diverting the focus away from her opponent.


    Akachi held on to the electric sphere until the last moment. The Countess appeared on the ceiling above him, and fell on him with the spiraling harpoon. At the instant of the blow, Akachi raised his batons and the sphere began to emit sparks. The blood weapon disintegrated before any physical contact.


    Azekel''s grandson released the repulsive force, and the electric sphere hit the witch like a cannonball. It hit her square in the abdomen. The bluish sphere exploded and electrified sparks traveled all over the Englishwoman''s body. She was thrown violently into the ceiling, causing a hole. Her body rose and fell in the middle of the audience.


    Even in the audience, her body still showed the effects of electrocution. The charge ran through her entire body. The extremities of the woman''s body, such as her nose, earlobes and fingers and toes were necrotic. The medical team attended to her urgently. Resuscitation maneuvers were carried out. She wasn''t dead, but she would be unconscious for a few minutes.


    Akachi was considered the winner of the fight, much to the frustration of Tuponili, who had agreed on the outcome of all the fights.


    On the other side of the ring, Eniac II and Arcenoux Leblanc watched their teammate being carried away on a stretcher. The Cajun gunslinger removed his hat from his head and whistled.


    "Madame shouldn''t have tried so dur, she should have droite fought to the point of making il fun and left the scene."


    "The countess is too proud a woman not to want to star in the opera."


    "I understand, grand bougre.  Quitter a neuf act begin, mai don''t expect moi to mourir to motivate the applause of the audience."


    "It''s not your time to go on stage yet, look!"


    Arcenoux LeBlanc looked at the screen. C¨¦sar XVII would face one of the mysterious hooded men.

 Song 91: There is nothing for those who live in search of darkness

    C¨¦sar XVII entered the ring of the Grand Arena to boos from the crowd. The Neo Axis team was widely disliked, yet the punters kept their eyes on them.


    On the other side was Eji, the short masked man. Shrouded in his brown cloak, he gave off an aura of mystery. His general appearance intimidated no one, but those familiar with the mediumistic arts knew how powerful his Ax¨¦ was. The masked man raised his head before the Italic giant.


    C¨¦sar bent in half to get close to the little man. Then he laughed as if he had gone mad. The Greco-Roman wrestler had already faced opponents of extreme physical strength in various parts of the world. He was an Olympic medalist for his country. He considered it nonsense to have to fight a child.


    "But what is this? Who left the nursery door open? I go into the ring looking for a man to fight and I find a little brat. Listen, shorty, go back to Mommy''s lap."


    The scene was hilarious for the audience. C¨¦sar XVII himself was tearing up with laughter.


    "Who did you call shorty?"


    "You, you shorty!"


    In one swift movement, C¨¦sar XVII grabbed the collar of Eji''s cape and lifted him up to his face.


    "I gave you the chance to run out of the ring with your tail between your legs, you scoundrel. But now, I''m going to show you the power of a superior race."


    Prac-pric, Eji''s small hands grabbed his opponent''s wrists. With a force that stunned the Greco-Roman wrestler, the hooded man separated his opponent''s two arms. It was no longer the Italian who held him in the air, but the masked man who clung to his opponent''s arms as if he were an athlete on the parallel bars.


    No matter how hard he pushed, he couldn''t free himself from Eji''s grip. C¨¦sar XVII''s forearms began to turn purple. The circulation was stuck in his forearm. The veins throbbed in his skin. He collapsed on the floor, on his knees, submissive to Eji. He bit his lips until they bled. He turned his head, gasped, and finally let out a scream that echoed through the Great Arena.


    "No, let me go! How can you be so strong when you''re so small?"


    "Our clan sits on the Throne of Force, and due to a divergence in the perception of what true strength is, our clan has split into two different schools: one expert in the use of weaponry, and the other, of which I am an adherent, which transforms the body into a weapon."


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    "No... please... stop!"


    "Your strength comes from your supposed superiority. But who says you''re superior? This notion of superiority is what some people create as a way of hiding their frustration, resentment and weakness. It''s just fragility coated in lies."


    "No... uargh!"


    Blood squirted out like sprinklers. Eji broke Caesar XVII''s forearms like toothpicks. The bleeding flooded the floor of the ring. The dammed blood flowed like a river arm. He tried to get up, but he was too weak to fight back. He fell backwards. He screamed for help.


    Eji turned and walked slowly to the other side. Victory was declared. Before he reached the edge, C¨¦sar XVII jumped on him. He prepared to kick him in the head.


    "Don''t sing victory before your time, shorty."


    The sole of his foot came close to the hooded man''s head, but didn''t hit. A strong repulsive energy threw him backwards.


    "I thought I was done with you, but to my surprise, you''re still alive."


    Eji punched C¨¦sar XVII in the stomach. The impact was so strong that the man twisted. The internal organs of his stomach burst. He vomited blood and bile. Another punch hit the fighter in the face. He fell backwards onto the ground. Eji jumped on his opponent. He threw another punch, and another, and others followed.


    With each punch, Italo''s face deformed like a sheet of paper. His abdomen sank into the floor and a crater formed. By the time Eji had finished punching, all that remained was a shapeless mass of flesh, bones and blood soaking into the floor of the Grand Arena. Finally, Eji left the ring.


    The Greco-Roman wrestler remained conscious, even though his senses were scrambled. The intense pain spread through all his muscles and tendons. It was as if someone was ironing his tissues. He tried to breathe, but his airways were torn apart.


    For every time his convulsed chest pumped blood, his torn intestines churned.


    How could someone superior die in such a shameful way?


    In a daze, in memory, he transported himself to the day he was caught in the anti-doping test at the European Greco-Roman wrestling qualifier. C¨¦sar XVII had been using customized drugs based on his blood plasma for years. This allowed for high athletic performance and the ability to bypass the sophisticated tests of the Greco-Roman leagues.


    In the locker room, after being expelled from the sport, assaulting the referee and being abandoned by the coach, he was visited by two men. They were wearing black overcoats, hats and dark glasses. On the lapel of their overcoats was a brooch in the shape of a stylized black sun. Only people sympathetic to Nazi-fascism would recognize the symbol.


    After determining the origin of the duo, the Italian became less tense. He relaxed his fists, stared at them and said:


    "You came too late..."


    "Mr. C¨¦sar XVII, as you may know, we''re from Neo Axis. We''ve been following your trajectory, and the engaging and fruitful way in which you''ve been defending our cause, in your own way, of course. We need representatives for our cause. The superior races need to lead this world again."


    "At last someone who speaks my language. I thought you were legends. Do you want to include me in your ranks?"


    "Yes, we want resolute companions in our cause."


    "All right! But I don''t want ties or useless rules. I want to act and exercise my superior right over this world."


    One of the men in the overcoat approached, removed his gloves and held out his pale hand to the fighter.


    "A lion must reign and exercise its power, otherwise the jungle takes the place of the garden."


    Gradually, that gray image took on a ruddy hue. The red expanded over the canvas, coagulated, became a dark mass, until all traces of light disappeared.

 Song 92: A shooting ballet

    The next fight was set between Fadala and Arcenoux LeBlanc. The fighters made their way to the ring of the Grand Arena. The Il¨º Apanyan undertaker lit his herbal cigarette. The Cajun American fixed his hat on his head. The hitman and the bounty hunter stood facing each other.


    Unlike on previous occasions, Arcenoux was serious. His tension made his muscles tighten under his open vest. He kept his bandages on, even though his wounds had already healed. He placed his right hand on his revolver. His left hand was tucked into an ammunition holster at his waist, behind his back.


    In it were several revolver barrels. The gunman''s hand rotated the loaded drums. A low, crunching sound was heard. He kept his eyes on the mortician. He knew the guy well. He had already faced and encountered members of the Il¨º Apanyan on battlefields around the world. His commanders had ordered the SEALs to flee on sight.


    It was always the same modus operandis. A bald man in a suit would emerge from somewhere unusual with a pair of .50s. After that, all that was left were slaughtered bodies and a huge wave of destruction behind them.


    "I didn''t expect an Il¨º Apanyan bougre sur the underground circuit. Vous''re too elegant and dogmatic to va sur such a salir stage."


    "Don''t speak so loudly, I don''t want to attract attention right away. How did you find out?"


    "You boucaner a joliment smelly cigarette."


    "I understand, I don''t think you''re here just to show off. If you were, you would have used that gun you stole from a museum to kill me. A Colt M1892 has a medium-long barrel for quick draws, doesn''t it?"


    Fadala observed his enemy''s condition with quick movements of his eyes. He assumed a Gun Kata stance. The ballistic technique combines the execution of martial arts hand and foot movements with the firing of firearms. The style is divided into two forms.


    The first, long-range, allows the user to respond quickly, without cover and with maximum economy of movement and use of space. Short-range involves greater physical contact, point-blank shooting, disarming actions and twisting. With the Gun Kata, depending on the gunman''s expertise, he could shoot without aiming, guided only by synesthetic intuition.


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    Which ballistic style will the cowboy wear? He''s tried to avoid showing his true skills so far, just like me. He''s the most dangerous of his team.


    "Someone as carefree as vous shouldn''t be dans a position of defense. Jongler vite."


    Arcenoux drew his revolver, pointed the barrel at Fadala''s abdomen and fired six times. The initiative made the undertaker defend himself and beat back the bullets with pistol butts. At the same moment, the Cajun gunman launched the various drums into the air, at different distances and heights. The assassin took a few steps back.


    Clever of him. He makes me defend, retreats to avoid a counter-attack and presses me with the Gun Fu.


    The ballistic style of Gun Fu combined the acrobatic movements of oriental martial arts with precise shots at the opponent''s vital points. The focus was on hand-to-hand combat.


    The American discarded the empty barrel of the revolver, and with a horizontal or diagonal movement, reloaded the firearm using gravity. With his other hand, he deflected Fadala''s wrists to avoid being hit.


    The mortician, unable to hit his opponent with the gun, resorted to Krav Maga kicks. The martial art is suitable for confronting opponents armed with firearms or blades. The blows were aimed at the soft parts of the body, those that could not generate muscular hypertrophy such as the throat, ear, groin, tendons, etc.


    The bullets grazed the fighters'' bodies. The barrels spewed out gray smoke, which spiraled through the air. The smell of gunpowder incensed the atmosphere. A strange aura of death contaminated the ring. None of the combatants could hit their opponent. The projectiles embedded themselves in the walls, the ceiling and the ground.


    But Fadala''s Krav Maga kicks met the cajun''s Savate kicks. While their hands fired and reloaded their firearms, their legs crossed in kicks, kicks, knees and stomps. Arcenoux''s group¨¦, tendue and coup de pied bas kicks clashed with Fadala''s seventy-eight beitot.


    The fight went on so quickly that the audience found it hard to follow. Shell casings, combs and empty gun barrels piled up on the floor. In the end, the two stopped with their guns pointed at each other''s faces. They gasped, drops of sweat trickling down their temples. Their eyes were fixed like the sights of a gun.


    "I jongler this is going to be aimer a roulette wheel. When on tirer, quelqu''un will mourir, mr. Fadala. Have vous signed your will?"


    "I only have two pistols as assets, even if I had a family, I don''t know if it would be a good idea. You''re a good dancer, you just don''t have much flair, Mr. Arcenoux."


    "I learned to change a few steps in the Texas War of Independence."


    Tric, tric... the guns echoed in a dry metallic timbre. They were out of bullets. They both stepped back in disappointment. Arcenoux shook his head, irritated by the situation.


    "I can''t believe il, je''ve tied the knot with vous. An unexpected outcome m¨ºme pour moi."


    "Don''t complain, you''re still alive, at least for now. Nobody''s been knocked out or given up, we''ll have to settle it with our fists."


    "No, that''s assez pour moi. Vous''ve won that on, Fadala, ¨¤ least pour now."


    The Cajun then raised his right hand and declared he was quitting. Fadala won the fight. The undertaker wiped the sweat from his face, relieved. They both walked out of the ring of the Grand Arena. When they reached the stands, the cubic ceiling, like a Swiss cheese, collapsed. Everyone was stunned by the situation.


    In the holoprojection, the new fight was announced: Tora-Tora versus Meta. The hooded man stretched and walked towards the ring.

 Song 93: In my house, dont break the rules!

    The next fight was declared on the holoprojection screen, the ninja Tora-Tora would fight the masked man called Meta. General Luena was in the tournament monitoring room. He noticed that only Meta had climbed into the ring of the Grand Arena. The Oriental was nowhere to be seen. If he didn''t show up, it would be considered a defeat by WO.


    "I request the team to find out the whereabouts of this coward immediately!"


    To the military officer''s surprise, no one answered. She turned to the control team. They were all dead. The lights flashed. Luena shuddered. Someone had broken into the room unnoticed and executed all her subordinates quickly and easily.


    But who could have done it?


    A drop of blood fell from the ceiling and hit her left shoulder. She looked up. A figure was clinging to the ceiling.


    "Relax, I''ve just come to pay you back."


    "Tora-Tora?"


    The enemy leapt at her from the ceiling with extreme speed and swung his sword, slinz. Instead of hitting his target, the Japanese warrior hit the seat where she was sitting. Luena disappeared without a trace.


    "Damn it! Where did she go?"


    "She didn''t go anywhere¡­"


    She came up behind him. The general''s hand went through Tora-Tora''s back and out his chest. The man struggled like a hooked fish, but he couldn''t escape the enemy''s clutches. He struck out with his katana. Blood dripped from his mouth and nose. His chest convulsed. Luena lifted him into the air.


    "For a ninja, you''re pretty incompetent."


    "How did you escape that blow, you bastard? Did you teleport?"


    "No, I''ve been here the whole time."


    A monitor was holoprojected into the room and one of the event''s security guards asked how they should proceed, one of the fighters had not been found. General Luena threw the ninja''s body on the floor like a sack of garbage and ordered a cleaning crew to come to the room and clean it. He ordered the following:


    "Declare victory for Meta by forfeit for Tora-Tora. That idiot ruined my planning. I hate it when things get out of hand. Declare the Neo Axis group''s last fight with the masked Okan."


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    "Yes, sir."


    General Luena turned to his would-be assassin. The body was bleeding profusely from the chest. He stepped back and prevented his feet from touching the pool of blood sweeping the room. He shook his head, considering a serious error in his security system.


    If it weren''t for my Quantity Alteration: Absolute Refraction of Light, I''d be dead right now.


    ?


    Pestzart trembled in fear. Caesar XVII was dead, and the ex-yakuza hadn''t come. Changing the dynamics of the Grand Arena tournament, his fight would be brought forward. He would be fighting Okan, the masked woman who used techniques involving a type of mist. He thought about running away, but the tournament security guards made him climb into the ring.


    Okan, facing him, seemed at ease. Her self-confidence shook him even more. He raised his arm to declare he was quitting the fight, but the ambushed woman acted quickly and kicked him in the right shoulder. Her ankle dug into his bones, dismembering his humerus from his scapula. The German fell to his knees on the ground.


    "For someone who thinks he''s as superior as you, getting down on your knees must hurt your pride, doesn''t it?"


    He stood up with a scalpel in his hand. He struck, but only hit air. Around him, a vast mist of plasma thickened from floor to ceiling. A spectrum of purplish light showed small flashes of lightning.


    "You seem to be trapped, Doctor."


    Vap, zup! Pestzart cut with his scalpel. Little by little, fleeting images of Okan formed. The smoky atmosphere created a sense of psychedelia. It was impossible to distinguish reality from lies. The timbre of Okan''s voice echoed cynically as if from the bottom of a glass bottle.


    "When I heard that a group called Neo Axis would be taking part in the tournament, I laughed like never before. A neo-Nazi group who believe in their supposed superiority and who have come here to show Ilu Nla that ''you can''t be trifled with'', how pathetic!"


    He cut a copy of Okan with his scalpel, but the image turned into an electric current that struck him like a bolt of lightning. The German writhed on the floor like a snake. The electrocution was strong enough to knock him down, but not enough to kill him. He wished for death. He was panicking.


    "Ilu Nla already has a lot of problems, it doesn''t need to deal with garbage like you. Since the colonial revolution, we have repelled the advance of all our enemies. An ideology as vulgar as yours poses no threat to us.


    "As he stood up, she kicked him once more, in the back. The man fell to his knees on the ground again.


    "Stay on your knees, foreigner, I''m not finished yet. Do you know the real reason your superiors sent your trio of suckers here? It''s because you''re nothing but rats, the only place you can have a stage is in the underworld. I repeat, you''re nothing but pathetic."


    "ENOUGH! I won''t have someone as inferior as you talking to me like that."


    Pestzart stood up. He threw the scalpels at Okan''s smoky images. They crumbled for a few moments and then formed again. They laughed. The German felt humiliated. His heart was pounding. He had come to the most obvious conclusion: he wasn''t superior, he was just a coward.


    "Get away from me, I said!"


    "Feeling strong fighting someone weaker than you doesn''t seem like a fair ruler to me. In my clan, they used to tell the story of a master blacksmith¡­"


    "Shut up! I don''t want to listen to your primitive fables."


    "I''m not asking for your permission¡­ the blacksmith claimed to have forged the supreme sword, a weapon that could cut through anything. In his presentations, no one was unaware of the power of its edge."


    "No! Help! I give up! Let me out."


    "No one can hear you, sorry. Then an old man asked to speak and contradicted the blacksmith. He asked if the sword could cut the ocean, the stars and time. The blacksmith said that the ocean was too fluid for the blade to cut it, that the stars were too distant for the sword to reach them and that time was too invisible and powerful to be touched. He apologized for his arrogance and went back to forging swords. Now die and take your pride with you."


    She snapped her fingers. All her plasma replicas fell on Pestzart and turned into electric fields. The neo-Nazi was electrocuted to death. When the plasma mist dissipated. Only his blackened corpse remained.


    As she left the ring and was greeted by her teammates, the holothelon projected the last fight of the round.

 Song 94: The explosion is a symphony of ruin

    In the south of the American continent, five hundred kilometers from Argentina, lie the Falkland Islands, also known as Islas Malvinas. The archipelago was discovered in the 16th century. In 1760, the French began to colonize it. Throughout the 18th century, France, Spain and England fought over the area.


    In 1816, the nascent republic of the United Provinces of the River Plate claimed the islands for itself. Colonization began four years later, and in 1829, the military command installed in the region clashed with the British, who expelled the Argentinians in 1833. The archipelago of 200 islands remained an area of constant conflict between the two nations. The Argentinians never stopped claiming the territory for themselves.


    Between April 2 and June 14, 1982, the Argentine military, under the orders of dictator Leopoldo Galtieri, invaded the Falkland Islands. British Prime Minister Margaret Tatcher sent a huge number of soldiers to repel the invasion. Once again, Argentina tried to take possession of the archipelago, but failed miserably.


    The Argentine government has never recognized British possession. In 1999, geological studies revealed rich reserves of oil and natural gas. This led subsequent governments to continue pressuring international bodies to cede the territory to Argentina, without success at international level.


    The fact is that the Falklands remained under UK rule, with its coastline of cliffs and penguins, and its plains full of woolly sheep. What few people know is that the archipelago is home to an MI6 outpost, in constant collaboration with the CIA. The Latin American espionage operations section is one of the most active.


    When the Anglo-American Alliance was formed, joint actions between the two superpowers intensified.


    At its headquarters in the East Falklands, the Section had three agents. Director Cadfan Bleddyn, a Welshman almost two meters tall, was the host. He was a big man, a redhead with a freckled face and nicotine-yellowed teeth. He smoked his cigar like a chimney. He sat on the edge of the table and loosened his tie. He felt hot.


    "It won''t be an easy mission. If I had to give you personal advice, I''d say give up. But that''s against the rules, and I''d be arrested for inciting desertion."


    In front of him, the woman in the dark dress licked her red lips and crossed her legs. Her white thighs had never looked so smooth and attractive.


    "Director Bleddyn, please, I''m so frightened by this situation. The government shouldn''t send a little lady like me to the battlefield, should they?"


    The director wiped his flat forehead with the back of his hand. He moved his cigar from one corner of his mouth to the other. He smoothed the wedding ring on his ring finger. He was tired of that office, full of bureaucracy and busy men. He wanted to go back to Llanduno, his wife had refused to come with their children. He couldn''t stand forced chastity any longer.


    "Countess Bloody Mary, I never wished to see you in such a situation. I think you''d be better off in a cottage, but it''s Your Royal Majesty''s orders."


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Arcenoux LeBlanc also felt hot. He removed his hat from his head and leaned forward.


    "Excuse moi, sir, je still can''t believe what je heard.  The Anglo-American Alliance wants us to be sent to a clandestine fighting tournament dans Ilu Nla, and hack the defense systems of Ojwang''s underground laboratories. Is that serious, or did quelqu''un jongler that joke would be farce?"


    The man standing behind him, with heavy steps, approached and stood in profile between the director and the others. The cyborg spoke, methodically:


    "Mr. Arcenoux LeBlanc, Ilu Nla has developed an unprecedented industrial and technological complex in twenty years. There is no plausible explanation for this. This technology must be investigated and appropriated before it becomes a threat to us."


    "Wow, qui''s the future exterminator here?"


    "My name is Eniac II, I am a cyborg supersoldier with an enhanced body. My goal is to serve the interests of the United States of America¡­"


    "I amener that dos, vous''re more aimer screw-on head."


    The countess rolled her eyes; the whole thing bored her. Based on what had been agreed between her and the British government, she would have to spend a month of forced interaction with the team, and only then would she go to Africa, the place she hated most in the world.


    "Doesn''t that sound a bit risky and threatening, Director Bleddyn?"


    "What I can suggest is that you enjoy your stay, Ilu Nla is a beautiful place. You''re dismissed, get to know each other better. You''ll have a month to prepare. Madame, gentlemen, I must remind you that mistakes will not be tolerated."


    Bleddyn dismissed the trio. After the guests had left, he sat down in his armchair. He put out his cigar and lit another. He took a drag and closed his eyes, leaning his head back. His wife, before coming to the Falklands, had wished him dead of lung cancer. It was that kind of pampering that made him want to go back to Wales.


    ?


    After the previous fight, there was a delay in the holoprojection. The last fight took a while to be announced. Despite this, both Eniac II and Nyatui were already on their feet. They walked facing each other. When the fight between the two was announced, they were already inside the ring of the Grand Arena.


    His machine side had been programmed to take action, but his human side wanted to fight. Eniac II was conflicted about what to do. He didn''t want to die without leaving one last memory in the world. He no longer existed, so staying a little longer or a little shorter wouldn''t make any difference.


    Under muscle spasms, and with his cybernetic muscles twitching under his artificial skin, he approached his opponent. Contrary to the expectations of the medium and the spectators, he knelt epileptically on the floor. In a guttural voice, in two different tones, he said:


    "Run away¡­ while there''s still time¡­"


    "What kind of dirty trick is that?"


    "It''s not a trick, Mr. Nyatui¡­ I have a tactical warhead inside my body. I''m trying to contain the bomb''s detonation with my willpower alone. The programming is stronger than me, if you want to save yourself and your friends, leave now¡­"


    Everything was fast. Everything went by in milliseconds. Nyatui modeled his Ax¨¦ spear, cut through the walls of the place and fell on his companions, trying to protect them. The trio of ambushers joined forces to form an Ax¨¦ barrier. General Luena came out of his secret room, trying to escape the explosion.


    After all this, the room froze in a flash of light, hot and radioactive. The audience, ignorant of everything that was happening, had no time to react. Their bodies were incinerated by the atomic cloud formed by Eniac II''s explosion. It had been prepared as a diversion, but it had become a genocide.


    The detonation opened a crater on the surface of the city, right in the middle of a busy avenue. Citizens and residents nearby were caught in the blast and met the same end.


    General Luena crawled out from under the rubble. With difficulty, he stood up. She looked around. Everything she was proud of had been destroyed. Only ruin and dust remained. Before she could process what she was seeing, she saw three people standing up in the midst of the destruction. She narrowed her eyes in disbelief.


    "It''s him, the bastard! But how is that possible? Never mind, I''ll take his head on a silver platter to President Ojwang."


    Activating her Ax¨¦-Core, she activated her Greatness Alteration and became invisible. She would attack sneakily, quickly and without allowing her victim a chance to defend themselves.

 Song 95: Fuck Tha Amerikkka

    The entire United States of America woke up stunned when the state of Texas declared its independence. Nationalist marches carried the message of political emancipation down the avenues of Austin. Texas At the request of the governor, the Air Force was prevented from landing in Travis County.


    The secession between the state and the country had been going on for years. Texas wanted to close its borders to illegal immigrants. The Republican Party, dominant in the state, wanted to stop illegal immigration at all costs.


    They claimed various reasons for this. Illegal immigration increased violence, homelessness, real estate speculation, capital flight and they denounced the electoral abuse of immigrant votes co-opted by the Democratic Party. They said it was all just an institutionalized demographic lobby.


    Between the rationality of homo economicus and the spectacular conspiracy theories propagated in the press, the separatist sentiment of the Texan militias was awakened. Among them, the Fuck Tha Amerikkka Brigade, or FTA Brigade.


    Treated as domestic terrorists by Washington, and as allies by Texas, they won public support after one of their leaders was shot by a US soldier in a conflict on the border with Mexico. The pro-federal government press said the shot was friendly fire. The Texan press called it a cowardly attack.


    Things escalated until a conflict between Texas and the United States of America became inevitable. At a press conference at the White House, a New York reporter from the independent media asked the Head of State:


    "The government is facing difficult days since the outbreak of armed conflicts on the Texas border, President. What will be the response to the separatists?"


    "The only easy day was yesterday!"


    It didn''t take much intelligence to understand that the government''s best articles would be mobilized from the Coronado Naval Amphibious Base in Sam Diego, California. With SEAL Trident on the chest of his armor, Arcenoux Leblanc commanded the direct action operation in the invasion of Texas.


    The objective was simple: get in, take out the separatist militias and reintegrate the state into the United States of America. But this wasn''t a war in the Middle East, it was Americans killing Americans. The Cajun gunman couldn''t help but feel that. The bitter taste of his compatriot''s blood remained in his throat forever.


    Under his command, the SEALs reached the town of Waco, in McLennan County. The siege of the town was hampered by the collapse of the bridge over the Bosque River. After circumventing the situation with air reinforcement, Arcenoux entered the hostile area. With a fifty caliber anti-material sniper rifle, he climbed the steeple of a Baptist church.


    From above, to his surprise, in control of the light artillery guns, there were boys. Teenagers with freckles on their faces and frightened looks. Old enough to date girls behind the bleachers after a baseball game, not ready to take up arms and shed blood. The order came through on his communicator:


    "Operation Commander on the ground, order to fire."


    "But, sir, ils''re droite boys. Je request orders to negotiate a surrender with the boys."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "Negative, Commander LeBlanc. The territory is hostile and the enemy is unyielding. The order is to reduce the enemy to dust and retake the territory."


    "I understand, mai on didn''t m¨ºme try to negotiate. Quitter moi try, ils''re american too."


    "Not until they declare independence and then war on us. Commander LeBlanc, if you refuse to make the attack, you will be held responsible for insubordination."


    A second time he put his eye under the telescopic sight of the rifle. The boys, in their camouflage military uniforms, twice the size of their bodies, maintained their position as disposable soldiers. The cajun made the sign of the cross. He had forgotten how to pray after pulling the trigger so much.


    "When the Lamb opened the second seal, je heard the living creature dire, ''come!'' then another horse came out; and this on was rouge. Its rider was given power to amener peace from the earth and cause men to tuer on another. And il was given a great sword."


    ?


    "I didn''t know you were religious, Mr. LeBlanc."


    "I''m sorry, ma''am, what did vous dire?"


    "He was reciting the Bible. He must fear death and want to secure a one-way ticket to Paradise."


    "Have vous jamais regretted anything dans your life, madame Bloody Mary?"


    "I''ve never regretted anything I''ve done or failed to do. A life of regrets is very tedious."


    The pair of Anglo-American agents moved swiftly through the labyrinthine corridors of Ilu Nla''s underground. In the penultimate fight, far from the spotlight of the Grand Arena, the bounty hunter and the English witch began their infiltration. That kind of suicide mission. The security systems were being hacked by Eniac II.


    The time between the intrusion of the systems and their explosion would elapse when they climbed into the ring. Therefore, both had to be as far away from the detonation radius as possible. After a few minutes, the entire structure of the place shook. A hot wind blew through the corridors, bringing a smell of soot and death.


    That was the clearest sign yet that they had to hurry. The systems were no longer being strained by their late companion''s hacking. As they neared the main room of the laboratory, just below the Iroko Tree, a large figure appeared. So tall that he had to duck his head to fit down the corridor.


    "Who''s that petit shadow?"


    "Oh, how wonderful! He''s a member of the Phalanx, Mr. LeBlanc."


    "Madame says il aimer il ''s the best thing that could happen to us."


    The soldier, blocking the passage, bent his knees and linked his arms at the waist, leaving his forearms raised as if he were holding a very heavy iron bar at chest height. Purplish electric currents began to circulate through the atmosphere.


    "Did the gringo insects think they could invade our installations without any consequences? What a pity, if it had been any other general, they would have died quickly. I, General Jitujeusi, will give them a slow and painful death."


    Arcenoux drew his revolver and fired several times at his opponent. All the bullets stopped a couple of meters away from the general and fell smashing to the ground.


    "Impressive, isn''t it? I''m going to give you the honor of knowing the power of a member of the Phalanx. Alteration of Quantity: Absolute Gravity/10% of weight."


    Arceonoux and Bloody Mary tried to run away. However, the structure of matter in and around them became heavier. Their bodies fell to the ground. Studs were left there like nails. It was as if a steamroller had run over them. The walls, ceiling and floor distorted with the gravity applied by Jitujeusi.


    The pair tried to crawl, but they couldn''t even move. The Earth''s gravity at sea level is 9 m/s2, which means that any loose body, every second it falls, would increase its speed by almost ten seconds towards the center of the planet. Ten percent more speed already makes the fall faster and heavier.


    The spies begged for their lives, their voices coming out pasty, as if they were inside a blender.


    "Have mercy, glup. On were forced¡­"


    "Please, I don''t want to die here¡­"


    "You should have thought of that before coming here. What an insistent bug to die.


    Jitujeusi wanted to have more fun. He then applied the gravity of the planet Jupiter to his enemies and increased the proportion of hypergravity to the point where the weight of their own bodies crushed them to the ground. Finally, only two huge red stains remained on the destroyed floor.


    The sound of crumbling bones echoed through the air. The blood pressure from both of them caused them to accumulate at the ends of their bodies and explode. Intense bleeding colored everything red.


    The giant turned around. He resumed his work in the laboratory. Over the communicator, he ordered a team to come and clean up. He didn''t want Ojwang to return to the underground laboratories and have to step on those two squashed cockroaches in the corridor.

 Song 96: Lowering the dust

    A pile of rubble was overturned. Nyaui stood up, dusted off her shoulders. She reached out to the boy who was still lying on the ground.


    Akachi withdrew his arms from in front of his face. He looked up. The ex-sage had protected him with his own body by activating his Of¨® defense. The dust made him tear up. He grabbed his protector''s hand and stood up. He looked around, many had not managed to escape the explosion caused by the cyborg Eniac II.


    "Isn''t it ironic? The Americans sent a suicide bomber to break through Ilu Nla''s defenses. That''s what they call state terrorism."


    The young medium noticed the strong smell of herbal cigarettes. Fadala straightened his messy tie.


    "How can you smoke at a time like this?"


    "It relieves my stress."


    The hitman shrugged. He took two steps forward, removed the cigarette from his mouth and threw the butt on the floor. He stepped on it with the tip of his shoe. He pointed to the left and then to the right.


    "Looks like we''re in a bit of trouble¡­"


    Quickly, Nyatui shaped his spear. On the right was the trio of hooded men. On the left was General Luena.


    "Ah, don''t tell me, mister obvious! The explosion dispersed Ax¨¦ particles and made our cover fall off."


    For the first time, Akachi had realized that Nyatui no longer looked like Mister Trent, but like his own face. The zimbas had been undone. Their identities had been revealed to their enemies.


    "What do we do now?"


    Fadala drew his pair of pistols and pointed each one in a different direction. He wasn''t sure which decision to make. Three enemies of unknown potential, or a Phalanx general with a high chance of calling in reinforcements? It wasn''t an easy choice. They needed a distraction.


    The hitman looked at the ex-sage over his glasses. The other nodded in affirmation. They both tensed their muscles. They stood at the ready. Nyatui thought about the difficult position they were in.


    Two enemy forces, there''s no guarantee that they won''t join forces against us and fight for the booty.


    General Luena couldn''t believe it. She put a hand to her face theatrically. Almost affected, she said in surprise:


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "But how many intruders into my celebration! Nyatui? The Circle of Sages? Even you, Akachi, bearer of the seventh Spiritual Key? It couldn''t be better, now I can kill you all."


    Luena was bluffing. She knew that she would never be able to fight them all on her own. If the Circle of Sages and Nyatui''s group united against her, it would be best to retreat. Her life would not be guaranteed, but she would have a vague chance.


    The ambushers removed their capes and masks. They contained their surprise. Now their faces were visible. They maintained the haughtiness and serenity they had shown throughout the tournament in the Grand Arena.


    The smallest of them rolled up the huge sleeves of his cape and snapped his fingers. Contrary to what Akachi had thought at first, he wasn''t a child, but a middle-aged man, older than Nyatui. He had a full beard and moustache and a grumpy look. His eyes seemed to blaze with excitement.


    "We had no trouble circumventing your defense system, General Luena."


    "How did you hide the power of your key, sage?"


    "Just like that fool Akachi. By controlling the emission of Ax¨¦ from the key to our bodies. His case seems to be a lot more complicated, since the key was connected directly to his body."


    Adsa''s son instinctively placed a hand on his chest. He turned to Nyatui and asked:


    "But¡­ who is this guy?"


    "He''s, well, he''s the current Sage of the Force, can''t you feel it?"


    "That little guy is Nyatui''s disciple?"


    "Who did you call short, kid?"


    The dwarf lunged at Akachi, but one of his companions caught him by the collar and said ironically:


    "We apologize, our friend here has a short fuse."


    After calming down, the short sage adjusted the collar of his cloak and, with a bead of sweat running down his temple, declared:


    "I''m not that idiot''s disciple, I''m his rival. Our clan has forked into two different visions of how to deal with the art of combat. For our family line, we believe that we should develop fighting techniques based on unarmed combat, while the supporters of the other line prefer to fight with weapons modeled on Ax¨¦. We always decide the position of Sage of the Force through duels between the two lineages¡­"


    "And the one who loses must serve the winning family until a new sage needs to be chosen."


    Nyatui supplemented the information. Akachi collapsed. He didn''t understand any of these power struggles. Nothing seemed very logical to him.


    "That''s right, so today I am the Sage of the Force. My name is Jabir."


    The woman next to him put one hand on his chair and the other arm on Jabir''s shoulder. She wiggled her hips provocatively. She was a young medium with shoulder-length curly hair. Her expressive eyes were light brown. She winked at Azekel''s grandson and said:


    "I am the Sage of Evolution, Nkechi."


    The third stood like a girl band. He looked androgynous, although his Adam''s apple gave him away. His high-pitched, forced voice left a sour echo in the air. Her hair was long, with the back of her curls tied into a braid. Her make-up was heavy and her nails were painted the color of green. She repeated the same pose as her companion, but on the opposite side.


    "And I here am Durojaiye! The Sage of the Generation and¡­"


    "Ah, enough! Stop embarrassing the Circle of Sages."


    Jabir stepped back, letting the two fall face-first to the ground. The two got up quickly, and the trio started arguing. Suddenly they turned to Akachi. The Sage of Strength clenched his fists and spread his Ax¨¦ around his body. His muscles doubled in size.


    "General Luena, you''ve been a good host. Forgive us, but we''re already leaving."


    "You''re leaving? Oh, what a shame, little Jabir. Adsa''s son just brought me a present, but he forgot to give it to me."


    In Akachi''s eyes, everything took less than a few seconds. General Luena set out to attack them, but Nyatui took the lead and began to fight with her. The trio of sages, counting on the unexpected intervention of the master of suspicion, focused their efforts on Akachi. However, Fadala, quicker than them, grabbed the boy around the waist and fled. The mediums followed in his wake.

 Song 97: Laminated wings in bloody flight

    Fadala, with Akachi, fled with the Circle of Sages in their wake.


    General Luena and Nyatui stayed behind. The former sage felt his muscles tighten and his veins throb under his skin. He shaped his Ax¨¦ spear. His enemy was a member of the Phalanx. He would be a tough nut to crack. Despite this, he hadn''t felt so excited since his previous fight against the Savage Unit.


    Luena remained haughty. She watched the spear pointed at her. Its cutting edge glinted with the beams of the sunlight that plunged into the crater, casting light into the dense gloom. Slowly, as if they were dancing, the two began to walk sideways. They stopped suddenly, and after a short pause, they accelerated.


    "You''re pretty fast for a grandpa."


    "Didn''t they ever teach you to respect your elders, General Luena?"


    The man jumped on her. He struck her with the tip of his spear. The impact threw dust and debris in all directions. When the dust cleared, there was a crater in the ground, but Luena wasn''t there. Her speed allowed her to escape in time. Nyatui decided he wouldn''t miss a second time.


    She ran towards her and landed a horizontal blow on her opponent''s belly. Luena stepped back. Deftly, she continued to dodge her opponent''s series of attacks. When she realized that he wasn''t going to back down, she jumped back. She kicked him in the stomach, he tensed his abdominal muscles, and the sole of the general''s foot did no damage.


    The soldier was thrown backwards. He hit a huge block of concrete. It crumbled like a grain of sugar. Luena was about to crash into a wall of rubble, but she spread her arms and legs, emitted an electromagnetic pulse and braked in time to protect herself.


    The general bent forward, and from her back two compartments opened. From them emerged single-wire diamond-shaped blades of various sizes and obsidian color. A purplish electrical discharge connected them at the top and center. They moved like the wings of a bird. With a flutter of her wings, she launched a gust of wind towards her opponent.


    "I confess I had no interest in you, you old fool. But since you won''t be long, I''ll go after Akachi, if his former companions haven''t captured him."


    "You''ve got everything wrong. Companions? Believe me, they were never my companions. If they were, they wouldn''t have allowed people like you to rise to power. As for delaying or not, shouldn''t the hostess entertain the visitor?"


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    General Luena flew with speed, now twice as fast. Her pair of wings emitted an energy pulse that left a brief trail of purple photon particles behind. It was too late for Nyatui to realize that her enemy''s claw-like hand had pierced her stomach.


    Blood gushed from the wound. He felt her fingers pinching his insides. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. The ex-sage man smiled. With one of his hands, he grabbed her left arm. He raised the spear with his other hand as if he were an executioner ready to cut off his victim''s head.


    She attacked him with her free hand on his face, on his neck, on his chest. Nyatui remained impassive. The spear came down. A huge echo filled the air. A dense cloud of Ax¨¦ particles dispersed into the atmosphere. When it subsided, the former sage realized that his opponent had protected herself with a pair of wings.


    Luena nimbly jumped up, flapped her wings to propel herself backwards and drove both feet into Nyatui''s face. Away from him, the woman began to gasp. Her arm was useless. She could no longer rely on it. Her systems detected a spiritual presence rising above Nyatui.


    The old medium''s Ori Guardian seemed irritated with him. It came to his ear and whispered:


    "You''re taking too long to kill that bitch."


    "Don''t coddle me! Old people have the right to have fun too. Queen Dalji who wields the spear that destroys armies. Lady of war who has extended her dominion over the four cardinal points¡­"


    The former sage began the process of Firming the spirit. Realizing this, Luena launched the metallic feathers of her wings at the enemy. The energized lozenges were like guided swords, a kind of drone connected to their owner''s nervous system. They acted in complete partnership with the general.


    Before Nyatui could complete the Oriki, she launched her blades at him. However, he quickly defended himself against all the wings sent to hurt him. The lozenges stuck in the atmosphere and kept vibrating.


    "¡­ show your mastery to those who have not witnessed your greatness! Confirm spirit."


    Nyatui embodied Ilu Nla''s most powerful amazon. Her deep voice took on a high-pitched, melodious echo.


    "Don''t interrupt the medium''s Oriki, the ancestors will be offended."


    "We of the Phalanx don''t respect this ancestry thing. We''re looking to the glorious future, not the past that binds us to horror and death."


    Luena could no longer keep up with Nyatui''s onslaught. Only by instinct was she able to gather her laminated wings and protect herself from the worst. The former sage grabbed her by the neck and lifted her off the ground. The blades pierced his entire left arm. He felt that pain tearing through his tissues. Nyatui expressed no pain.


    Luena grabbed her opponent''s wrist, but she didn''t seem strong enough to get rid of it.


    Look at her, Mrs. Dalji. She''s been proud of you all this time. Happy as a child who gets a new toy. Actually, I was the one playing with her.


    You and your dramatic mania for extending the lives of your opponents. The enemy is not to be trifled with, he is someone who must be killed, quickly and efficiently.


    What fun is it to end a fight before it starts?


    Nyatui held the spear like a javelin thrower. He took careful aim at his opponent''s head. General Luena''s eyes widened. A drop of cold sweat dripped from her temples, one of her few organic parts.


    Now she understood his ruse. The spearman is a medium-range fighter. He can fight through stocks or slashes. The spear is excellent at attacking, defending and counter-attacking, the last two being the most suitable in a fight. It''s not common for spearmen to risk hand-to-hand combat with grabs and submissions.


    As the soldier''s mobility was greater than her opponent''s, restricting her movements in this way ensured a greater chance of a hit. This was more than just a combat tactic, it showed her fear of her opponent. At the last moment, Luena smiled as she saw the spear approach her face.

 Song 98: Experience in combat

    Ax¨¦''s shaped spear pierced the air. Nyatui even felt a little pleasure when he saw his opponent''s head disappear. The ex-sage supported the inert body. He frowned. Although it looked decapitated, there was no blood present.


    "Stop joking, you''re not injured."


    "Unhnhunhunhun, I didn''t want to spoil your mood, old man. With my Quantity Alteration: Absolute Refraction of Light, I can become invisible."


    Luena''s head became visible again. In an inhuman way, she threw her head back. The joints in her body had been remodeled with advanced biotechnology, allowing her to make movements impossible for other human beings. The Phalanx was the most transhuman military force in the world.


    "Only cowards need to hide during combat."


    Annoyed, Luena made her laminated wings sever her opponent''s arm. She propelled herself backwards to escape his grasp. Nyatui maintained physical contact between the two by slamming his shoulder into her belly and uttered:


    "Measuring Value: Evaluation."


    "Damn you, back off!"


    "''Negation of Value''."


    Nyatui''s arm regenerated completely as if it had never been injured. She used the handle of her spear to strike her opponent. Luena escaped by refitting her laminated wings. She flew away, hid in the shadows of the crater''s ruins and used an Quantity Alteration, becoming invisible.


    The ex-sage didn''t wait for a new attack to begin. He performed the Of¨® Superhuman: Break of Values. With this charm, his physical strength and speed multiplied. The Ax¨¦ penetrated his muscles and bones, increasing the durability of his body. It was a technique that demanded a lot from his physical conditioning.


    Nyatui was unwilling to let General Luena go after his companions. Under the circumstances, it was possible that the military woman would join forces with the Circle of Sages to defeat Fadala and capture Akachi. It was a war, and when you''re in one, there''s no time for moral reflection. Common enemies temporarily join hands.


    The master of suspicion held his spear. He sharpened his hearing. Insects and rats crawled through the broken pipes. Small rocks were breaking off from the crater walls. A loose wire sparked electrical sparks.


    What are you doing, you idiot, open your eyes!


    Sometimes, Mr. Dalji, I wish I''d chosen a less talkative Ori Guardian.


    If it hadn''t been for me, you would have died a long time ago.


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    That''s true¡­


    Nyatui tried to memorize every sound in the room, the rhythm at which they occurred. He heard a sharp, cynical laugh coming from the opposite direction.


    "It''s hard to fight what you can''t see, isn''t it?"


    "Actually, it''s simpler than you think."


    Stlinz, Luena''s blades came down like rain from above. A curtain of dust and debris rose from the ground. The general launched herself at him, aiming to deliver a deadly attack. She stopped halfway, the enemy hadn''t fought back, hadn''t even moved.


    "What''s wrong? Come on, I''m waiting for you."


    Nyatui was on his feet, unhurt. The spear slung over his shoulder showed his nonchalance.


    "Well, if you''re not coming, I will."


    Vum! With the wave of his spear, he set off a current of wind that kicked up the dust in front of him. The debris collided with something standing in the way. Nyatui struck with his spear from above. Luena dodged, leapt towards the nearby wall, gathered momentum and lunged at him.


    The medium dodged. With a thrust of his spear, he hit his opponent in the back. She fell to the ground. Nyatui raised her weapon and tried to drive it into her opponent. The soldier attracted her laminated wings and covered herself with them as if they were a shield. Electric sparks dissipated on contact between the blades.


    The blows followed. Luena was buried in the ground, trapped, unable to fight back or evade. A stray blade had been left behind, and she mobilized her wing to distract the enemy. The blade hit her opponent right in the neck. It didn''t hurt him, but it was enough to knock him down.


    "There''s no point in hiding, is there?"


    "You''re the enemy who made me go further. Killing you is a matter of honor now."


    Luena stared at her opponent. The guy seemed invulnerable in her eyes. He was no ordinary Of¨®. She thought there would be major side effects from that concentrated accumulation of Ax¨¦ in his body. She narrowed her eyes. Nyatui''s hair was graying. It used to be just her temples, now her whole head was turning white.


    Finally, she understood the sacrifice he had made. It was a double-edged technique: at the same time as it strengthened him to superhuman levels, his life was consumed. Considering his determination, he was willing to die in that fight.


    What a man! He''s already given up his life to face me. Too bad his sacrifice will be in vain.


    Nyatui no longer had the patience to wait for her enemy''s initiative. She ran, scraping the ground with her spear. Very close to the attack, she turned invisible and reappeared in another direction, next to a part of the ceiling that was still standing. The old medium didn''t give up. He advanced against it. She made several vertical cuts, knocking down the rest of the structure.


    Luena continued her tactic of defending herself with invisibility and retreating to attract Nyatui. Her powerful spear attacks shattered and increased the width of the crater. The fight was already becoming tedious for the spearman.


    She''s just playing with your face.


    Very rude! I''ll correct her.


    At no point after activating his Of¨® did the master of suspicion slow down Luena. On the contrary, he held back his power to match her and make the fight last longer. After realizing that she had been intimidated by him and was wasting his time, he decided to take action and make things more interesting.


    "All right, little girl. I''ll get you back into the fight. Transvaluation: Rupture of Values."


    General Luena''s eyes widened. The color and shape of the shaped spear had changed. It was as if its blade pulsed with Ax¨¦ particles. Fearful of what might happen, she decided to flee the crater and change the combat scenario. She jumped through the rubble of the structures and climbed in desperation.


    Nyatui laughed. Seeing her run made him happy. It was like an attestation of weakness. He raised his head and calculated the path he would take from the ground to the mouth of the crater. It would be a single cut, clean and dry. When the soldier reached the area near the edge of the pit, the medium jumped off the ground, vumping.


    The spear cut her right arm in two. General Luena let out a shrill scream. The wound wasn''t bleeding, but the pain was excruciating. As both fighters fell, she grabbed him by the neck with her free hand. As they fell, she realized that her opponent had already consumed the rest of his Ax¨¦.


    They got into a grapple. But at that moment, the military woman had the upper hand. Even with just one hand, she managed to force Nyatui''s body down. He would support the fall of both of them. The ex-sage tried one more blow to decapitate her enemy, but she used her laminated wings to protect herself. The pair fell to the ground, generating a thunderous roar and dust.

 Song 99: Victory with the taste of defeat

    The dust settled. Luena was slumped over the old medium. Nyatui''s muscles were atrophied, his skin dry and his hair gray. His Of¨® had given him great power, but it was consuming his life. He no longer had the strength to stand up or escape. She would die there, at the mercy of her enemy.


    Luena, convulsed, clenched her fist and aimed a punch at the man''s face. Before her left arm came down on the ex-saboteur''s face, she collapsed in pain. She tried to contain the pain emanating from her right arm, which had been mutilated by the spearman''s Transvaluation: Breaking of Values.


    This Of¨® imbued the blade of the spear with a strong, condensed layer of Ax¨¦. In this way, it broke the atom in half. It was not possible to heal the affected part once it had been hit. If anyone survived, a fact unknown at the time, the victim would suffer acute pain for the rest of their life.


    Knowing this, the master of suspicion let out a dry laugh interspersed with coughs. Luena stood up, irritated, staggered backwards and fell to her knees on the ground.


    "What are you laughing at, you old vulture?"


    "At your fall! All that technology for nothing."


    "At least I beat you."


    "Don''t get so excited, girl¡­ It hurts, doesn''t it? They say it''s like having hot coals rubbed on your bones."


    "It doesn''t matter. One down, two to go. Stay there and die under the rubble."


    "Keep clinging to this pathetic life you have, General Luena. Live painfully knowing that I''m the one who left you like this."


    "Unf! Ridiculous old man."


    Luena activated her wings, and with the pain in her right arm throbbing, flew towards the exit of the crater. From high above, she released an electromagnetic pulse to trigger another landslide and bury it.


    A veritable mountain of rubble and sedimented earth collapsed on Nyatui. The certainty of death didn''t worry him. He smiled and welcomed the end of the cycle of his life.


    Lady Dalji appeared beside him. She looked at him tenderly, like a mother. It was the first time she had acted like this.


    "Don''t patronize me right now, don''t spoil my death."


    "I''ve never understood how someone can be as detached from life as you are."


    ¡°Our elders always said that life and death were the same, so why fear something that is just another face of life? A man must accept living, and he must accept dying."


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    "Of all the mediums I''ve guided, you''ve been the most reckless and hard-headed of them all, Nyatui."


    "Now, was that supposed to be an offense? I''m even feeling complimented. Thank you for being my Ori Guardian, you''ve been a good companion on this journey."


    "I thank you too, now join your ancestors¡­"


    Nyatui closed her eyes. The old body, the clay house, was empty. The spirit in it had already gone to the spirit world where Fante Obataiye harvests and sows souls.


    The crater had closed, it had become Nyatui''s anonymous tomb.


    ?


    "NO, NYATUI!"


    Akachi saw a second bang coming from the crater. Everything came crashing down. He screamed as he realized that the old medium had disembodied. Adsa''s son struggled in vain. The hitman would never put his life at risk. Even though he felt sick, Nyatui had chosen to stay behind and delay General Luena.


    "We need to move on, Akachi."


    "No, Fadala, we need to go back. We can''t abandon him, he''s¡­"


    "He''s dead, accept it."


    "How can you be so cold? You''re a murderer, don''t demand that I be like you."


    "Akachi, Nyatui sacrificed his life for yours. Honor his death by surviving."


    Fadala carried Akachi on his shoulders. No matter how hard he struggled, he would never be able to free himself from the hands of the man from Il¨º Apanyan.


    The trio of sages were on his tail. The chase continued through the streets and avenues. To avoid attracting less attention from the authorities, Fadala climbed up some fire escapes and jumped from rooftop to rooftop, reaching the highest buildings. He didn''t know how much he could take in these circumstances; he hadn''t fully recovered from his previous struggles.


    Azekel''s grandson bowed his head. Fenyang floated up beside him. The two looked at each other and nodded.


    "Fadala¡­"


    "What is it?"


    "I''m tired of running away."


    Fadala jumped over a railing from the roof of a building with a ledge and arrived at a helipad. He put Akachi on the ground. He turned to his pursuers. The three sage men stood in profile.


    Jabir slammed his small fist into the other. The veins stiffened in his face. He didn''t seem to be willing to pass up the opportunity to take the Spiritual Key of Faith.


    "What''s the matter, tired? It''s like they say, you can run, but you can''t hide."


    Akachi clenched his fists and pulled out his tungsten sticks. He concentrated a large amount of Ax¨¦ in them, increasing their mass many times over. The concentration of Ax¨¦ was so strong that Fadala had to move away from him.


    "Fenyang, these guys just want the spiritual keys. They don''t care about anything except the power and prestige they''ve lost. I''m beginning to think they''re no different from Ojwang and his gang."


    "I agree with you brou."


    "Then let''s go! Firm Spirit."


    Jabir punched the air. He was very angry at the comparison. He decided to give that cheeky young medium a corrective.


    "You''re not worthy of carrying a Spirit Key, you little brat. You bind spirits while using it. Amateur! I''ll show you how a true sage does it."


    "Get inside, old man!"


    Akachi didn''t see the punch hit his stomach. He was thrown so hard that the only reason he didn''t fall off the roof was because he was supported by Fadala.


    "Come on, boy. Didn''t you say you were going to teach them a lesson?"


    "That was only the first round."


    The assassin spun Akachi around three times and threw him back towards Jabir. The sage spread Ax¨¦ around his body, his muscles jerking. A layer of repulsive energy dispersed around the aura, increasing his defense.


    When the two repulsive forces collided, two electromagnetic barriers formed around the fighters. They intensified, expanded, but in the end, Akachi''s repulsive force pierced Jabir''s propagated field. An explosion of Ax¨¦ particles occurred, projecting him into the building opposite.


    All the glass panes in the building burst at the same time. A shower of shards of glass fell onto the street. Passers-by and people in the buildings near the fight rushed to the windows with their cell phones in hand. Surveillance drones monitoring the city flew towards the top of the building where the two forces were fighting.

 Song 100: Meritocracy

    The observers were impressed. The camera lenses fell on them. Akachi was furious. People were dying in his path without him being able to do anything about it. Lives sacrificed for the sake of a greater ideal. Their blood weighed heavily on his head.


    Only Fenyang knew how he felt. It was a burden being carried alone. An ordeal that could neither be denied nor placed on other shoulders. The maculel¨º fighter understood well what a burden without redemption was. Everyone wants to get rid of the weight, but with each passing day, the burden becomes greater and heavier.


    Jabir stood in front of his opponent. He looked without seeing. He was blinded by hatred. He energized his arms. The Ax¨¦ particles spiraled into his fists.


    "Well done, kid. I''m going to smash your face into the concrete."


    Vup! The sage jumped, crossed the distance between the two buildings, and fell on his opponent. Akachi realized what he was going to do. Jabir prepared a punch with his left arm.


    "Hammer fist."


    Adsa''s son picked up the two sticks, concentrated Ax¨¦ on the sticks. To defend himself, he placed them in an X shape and parried the enemy''s attack. The old medium''s repulsion was amplified on contact with the sticks. Akachi felt an enormous pressure on his arms. The muscles seemed to tear under the skin.


    To reduce the pressure, he kicked at his opponent''s flanks. The man jumped back and prepared for a second attack. Before he could hit his target, a purplish mist consumed the top of the building. It was impossible to see anything more than an inch. Jabir grumbled:


    "Don''t you dare get in my way, Nkechi!"


    "Sorry, Jabir, but you''ve attracted a lot of unwanted attention."


    The woman appeared in front of Akachi. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. His Ax¨¦ was too latent, he couldn''t control the emission.


    "You should give us your Spiritual Key, Akachi, after all, we''re on the same side."


    Akachi took a step back, indicating that he wouldn''t do that. He put himself in a defensive position. Nkechi rolled his eyes.


    One of his copies appeared next to him. Akachi tried to strike the image, but it shattered into an electromagnetized mist.


    "You are within my domain. I am one, and a thousand at the same time. You can''t strike if you don''t know which one is real."


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    A Nkechi appeared and tried to punch the young medium in the stomach. Akachi resisted the attack, but another came up behind him and kicked him in the back. Azekel''s grandson spun around and was punched in the face. A fourth came from the left side, but he managed to dodge it instinctively.


    What''s up, bro? You''re being beaten like a punching bag, react!


    Easy to say. This Ax¨¦ fog confuses the senses. The Ax¨¦ particles don''t let you tell which is true and which is false.


    Akachi decided not to be defensive any longer. She went after her opponent. Several copies of Nkechi appeared. They all laughed and moved unassumingly within the plasma mist. When they were hit by the medium''s blows, they reconstituted themselves. The real Nkechi seemed to be too hidden to be found by random blows.


    Adsa''s son was unable to define a pattern in the copies that would differentiate her from the original. They were identical in gesture and tone of voice. All the Nkechi could hurt Akachi. When they were hit in any way, they would fall apart and reassemble themselves immediately after the attack.


    "Give up, kid. Believe me, they''re not just residual images, they''re not an optical illusion. They can''t be attacked, but if you fool around, they''ll kill you. Hand over the key, and maybe I''ll let you live, but only because you''re cute."


    "People like you shouldn''t have possession of a Spirit Key, Nkechi."


    "That''s funny, I''ve heard that all my life. In my clan, mastering the Of¨® is essential to becoming a sage. I''ve never mastered any of the charms, I''ve never memorized the old formulas. I make exclusive use of the basic properties of Ax¨¦ in its various combinations. And to zero surprise, I''ve never been defeated."


    The fact that she doesn''t use any Of¨® could be an advantage, Fenyang.


    In fact, her becoming a sage with only the basic properties of Ax¨¦ like you gives me the creeps.


    I thought it would cheer me up.


    The sea''s not looking good today, bro.


    An army of Nkechi formed and approached Akachi. He crossed his sticks in front of his chest to defend himself. The hundreds of bearers of the Spiritual Key of Evolution pointed at Azekel''s grandson and in a tone of denunciation, declared:


    "I had to defeat all the pretenders to the post in one battle, all by myself. I won this position on merit, I went through countless trials and won my place. You, on the other hand, didn''t have to do anything. You didn''t pass any tests. You''re the one who isn''t worthy of carrying a key."


    ?


    Bang-bang! Fadala''s pistols roared at Durojaiye. The androgynous-looking man seemed very unconcerned about his opponent. His whole body was enveloped in repulsive force spread throughout his body. He attracted it to specific points, forming massive plates of Ax¨¦ that caused bullets to ricochet away.


    The hitman was trying to find a blind spot in his opponent. Whole magazines of ammunition were fired at the sage. The plates were only visible when the bullets hit them, until then, they were invisible. Finally, the man from Il¨º Apanyan stepped back. He took a cigarette out of his pocket, lit a lighter and started to smoke.


    The strong smell of aromatic herbs filled the atmosphere, giving the gunman''s face a smoky hue. His pupils dilated and so did his nostrils. He couldn''t see the Ax¨¦ enveloping his opponent, but he could feel it. The synesthesia generated by the active ingredients in the cigarette''s herbs interconnected his five senses, extending his sensory range and perception.


    The sage floated in a lotus position towards Fadala. He shook his head and said regretfully:


    "Men who smoke are very sexy, but their breath is horrible!"


    His voice had a high, rasping timbre, and the melodious diction sounded artificial. Fadala wiped his ear with a finger, adjusted his sunglasses and said:


    "When you talk, it''s like someone throwing shards of ground glass into my ears."


    "Oh, what a cruel thing to say to a lady."


    "Sorry, I''m not a gentleman, I''m a murderer."


    Instead of shooting at the sage, he fired his guns in the opposite direction. Durojaiye raised his small defense shields, but the enemy came up behind him. Both pistols were pointed at his head. The medium smiled. Without moving, he emitted the Of¨®:


    "Compact Serpent Scales."


    Fadala fired. However, his opponent was no longer in his sights. Before he could strike back, Jabir punched him in the ribs.

 Song 101: The actors leave the stage

    The Il¨º Apanyan agent felt his bone structure shake in his body. He took his distance from his opponents. The cigarette he had smoked had a short analgesic effect on the pain. But when it wore off, he would feel them as if they were being made right then and there.


    Fadala looked at the pistols and quickly reloaded the ammunition. He stared at the weapons. He was an assassin for hire getting involved in Ilu Nla''s political disputes. His mission was always summarized as going in, killing the target and leaving without a trace. Now he was fighting to defend a companion he had befriended.


    For the order of assassins of Nigerian origin, the gunman could be considered an outcast. He had broken every commandment of their creed. But it had been Babu''s order. The leader was never wrong. For many, he had the gift of clairvoyance, a perk granted to him by the heavens. For the more skeptical, he was a well-informed man, someone who had a vast spy network and who analyzed data quickly and efficiently.


    What Fadala wanted to understand was why he had been chosen. He was the most effective of the order''s undertakers, and therefore the most lethal of them all. There was something his leader hadn''t told him, a piece of information, a small detail that made all the difference.


    Fadala pointed his pistols at the faces of his enemies. They advanced against him. Jabir was slower than his battle companion. The Of¨® of Durojaiye coated his body with an Ax¨¦ overcoat, which was highly resistant to gunfire and allowed him to move with incredible speed.


    Fadala was not inexperienced enough to despair of his opponents. She fired at Durojaiye''s scales so that the shots would bounce off and hit Jabir. As fast as the sage was going, it wouldn''t be possible for the other to fight back or protect himself. Tum-tum, the mortician didn''t fire.


    "Wait, you idiot! He''s using his Of¨® against me."


    "Flexible Snake Scales."


    The scales covering her opponent''s body had changed their structure. Instead of the consistency of interlocking sheets of steel, they took on an upholstered appearance. The pistol bullets hit the scales as if they were hitting a waterbed. The bullets were swallowed by the scales and then fell to the ground.


    "You''re full of tricks."


    "Now, that''s no way to treat a lady, undertaker."


    "Think fast, Fadala!"


    Jabir punched the gunman in the temple. In order to dodge in time, he fired a few shots to propel his body backwards. Taking advantage of the fact that his upper body had been tilted, he fitted a snail clip to his pistol. He rested one hand on the terrace floor. With his other hand, he took aim at Jabir.


    He spread his legs and spun around like a break-boy. There was no time for the sage to retreat. However, he wasn''t hit by any of the shots. Durojaiye stepped in front of his companion. Like a human shield. When he had finished, Fadala got to his feet. Tired, he had both pistols in his fist pointed at the ground.


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    "I''m sorry, dear assassin, your tactics didn''t work."


    "Are you sure, Durojaiye?"


    The sage men looked at the ground. Fadala hadn''t fired at them, but had made a circle in the floor. Part of the terrace collapsed. The assassin jumped back, but his opponents had no time to escape and fell into the hole. He unholstered the magazine. The barrel of the pistol smoked, it was overheated.


    He checked the other pistol. He shook his head, they both needed maintenance. If he kept using them like that, they would break. Wielding the pistol with his left hand, he went through Nkechi''s purplish plasma cloud. To his surprise, she undid the field in an instant.


    ?


    Akachi was kneeling. His whole body was covered in bruises. He was breathing hard. One of his eyes was closed. It was swollen from the blows he had received. He was aware that all this was nothing more than an optical illusion, well-crafted by the sage woman.


    The young medium, together with his Ori Guardian, understood how it all worked. She used the basic properties combined to shape her Ax¨¦ into a plasma. A vast electromagnetized field was formed. It was used to confuse the opponent''s senses.


    The copies of Nkechi were made up of Ax¨¦ particles. They behaved autonomously, as if they had a life of their own. When they were hit, in the form of a plasma, they could not break up into an agglomeration of energy, and then rebuild themselves. When they attacked their opponent, their wisdom increased


    Hundreds of Nkechi surrounded Adsa''s son. The sage couldn''t hide her delight.


    "Isn''t it about time you gave up? Hand over your Spiritual Key!"


    "I can''t do that. My grandfather and father entrusted the Spiritual Key of Faith to me. I have to protect it, even from the Circle of Sages."


    Bro, not for nothing, but we have to get out of here.


    With great difficulty, Akachi got up from the floor. Her muscles trembled as if they were detached from her bones. He raised a staff and pointed it at the face of one of Nkechi''s copies.


    "Never! Even if I wanted to, she''s connected to my heart. It won''t be easy to get her out."


    "Got it¡­ then I''ll have to rip out your key, heart and all."


    Before Nkcehi could deliver the final blow, the sound of propellers cut through the air and became intense. The sage snapped her fingers. Opposite her, Fadala stood with his pistol pointed at her. Around the building, two military helicopters and several camera drones were flying over the terrace.


    The pilots ordered the fighters on the terrace to be arrested. They ordered them to drop their weapons and not to move.


    "Hunf¡­ this movie already has too many actors. Look, Akachi, if you survive, we''ll see you again."


    Fadala fired a shot into the air. Nkechi turned to him with a raised eyebrow.


    "Listen, they''re from the cyber troop. You''re the only one who can give us the smoke screen we need to escape."


    "Why would I do that, assassin?"


    "Your companions are one floor below, and they don''t seem to be in any better condition. Besides, the chance of you recovering his Spirit Key from Ojwang''s hands will be much lower than with us."


    "As a good hitman, you''re an excellent blackmailer."


    Fadala kept his gun pointed at Nkechi. The helicopters continued their warlike flight issuing arrest warrants. The sage rolled her eyes, raised both hands and cast the purple plasma mist over the terrace. The cyber troops had no choice but to launch the attack.


    Whole loads of missiles were fired at the building. The building caught fire. Its structure began to collapse and hit neighboring buildings. Many citizens were victimized by the military''s disastrous action. When they stopped firing and the fog cleared, the bodies of Akachi and the sages were not identified in the ruin.


    The incident was reported in the press and in cyberspace as a terrorist attack by the Circle of Sages. Images were manipulated, people were silenced and the interim president made a statement to the nation to reaffirm the crimes of the sages. Public opinion once again favored the government, unaware that it was the criminal.

 Song 102: Better to feel pain than nothing at all

    The eyes opened. The pain in his body opened them. He felt his arms swing like pendulums from side to side. He heard people talking, footsteps bustling, the urban vein pulsing with life. With some effort, he turned his head. He realized he was being carried by someone. With every step the man took, all his bruises screamed with pain.


    He maintained his resilience. He felt pain, he was alive. He took the opportunity to catch a glimpse of Ilu Nla. It lived up to its name. The massive investment in infrastructure and technology contrasted with the traditional architectural standards. After his hospitalization to treat his illness, he was never allowed to leave the hospital again.


    The old hometown had changed, and so had the young man, but there was no harmony between them.


    "Fadala¡­ urgh! My whole body hurts. I feel like I''ve fallen through a meat grinder."


    The hitman turned his head and stopped. The crowd of passers-by continued their march. It was as if an instant of time had been frozen for the pair.


    "Close enough. That sage finished you off. Her skill is very dangerous. It''s almost absolute camouflage¡­"


    "Almost absolute? What do you mean?"


    "At our next meeting with the Circle of Sages, and that won''t be long, leave Nkechi with me."


    "Okay."


    Akachi''s voice came out like a melancholy echo resounding at the end of an empty tunnel. Fadala continued walking. He was in a hurry to get off the streets.


    "Don''t look like that. You fought well. It was thanks to her that you didn''t defeat Jabir. He was confident, but he underestimated him. If it hadn''t been for the intervention of the other two, he would have regretted his carelessness."


    The man from Il¨º Apanyan walked even faster. It was dusk, the streets were well monitored with biometric recognition cameras, patrols and surveillance drones. Disentangling the entire police apparatus was challenging. Fadala avoided the large urban agglomerations, police barriers and the city''s surveillance system.


    He had received and memorized the updated map of Ilu Nla from Babu. He knew where he had to go, an Il¨º Apanyan hideout in the big city. A forward base for the various operations of the order of assassins.


    Fadala arrived at an inn in an area far from the city center. A stronghold for digital nomads, great for cover. In order to increase Ilu Nla''s revenues and convey a better image of the new regime, he opened the borders and made visas less bureaucratic for these content producers. They had a lot of money and didn''t interfere in the country''s internal politics. They served as unofficial public relations.


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    Fadala went up to the counter and asked for "the master key that opens the hidden doors". The receptionist, realizing the content of the message, bent down and picked up a lead box from under the counter. There was a padlock with a password on it. The killer thanked him and went upstairs. The room was on the fourth floor.


    In every metropolis in the world, there is an apartment, public restroom or basement that is constantly being renovated. On its door or fa?ade there is a symbol written in ultraviolet fluorescent paint, visible only under black light.


    After climbing the stairs with Akachi. He stopped in front of a room with a very old door, no numbering and no trespassing signs. It looked like it had been abandoned for years. The killer took out his smartphone and activated the device''s flashlight. He selected the black light and confirmed the room. He took the key and opened the door.


    The interior looked very different. Everything was new, lined with bubble wrap. The absence of human warmth had made the room cold.


    Fadala carefully placed Akachi on the bed. He removed his shoes. The young medium couldn''t move. His body lacked any strength. Akachi smiled. Despite the pain, he gathered his energy and managed to put his hands on his stomach. Then he started laughing.


    "What are you laughing at, Akachi?"


    "No, it''s not funny, but I can''t help it. I was born with a disease that took all the strength out of my muscles and made my bones ache. I couldn''t walk. It was a rare, chronic degenerative disease, and for some doctors, it was autoimmune. My grandfather blamed my father, he believed it happened because he turned his back on our ancestors."


    "I don''t understand how he could be blamed. You were born with a disease; I doubt your father would have wished it on you."


    "I know¡­ I blamed my father. I ridiculed his efforts. I didn''t believe he could cure me. He went to great lengths to make sure I had a normal life again. I have no memory of when I was paralyzed, I feel confused."


    "Are you afraid of losing your movement again?"


    "I don''t want to be in that state again. Fadala, if¡­"


    "Shut up! You need to rest."


    "Thanks for listening to me."


    Akachi let out a sigh and fell asleep. The weight of his unconsciousness fell on his eyelids. It was a deep and refreshing sleep for him.


    The mortician took advantage of the fact that his companion had fallen asleep and collected the suit in his hands. He pulled up a chair and checked the scanned map of the Ilu Nla Liberation Movement headquarters. He accessed Ilu Nla''s NeTV programs, taking care to use the order''s virtual private network.


    According to the news reports, the episode of the confrontation over the possession of the Spiritual Key of Faith had only been a terrorist attack provoked by the sages. Fadala couldn''t understand how the population believed it.


    The Phalanx''s disinformation machine is very powerful.


    The Circle of Sages was a very select group of people. They acted sneakily and without seeking the limelight that terrorist organizations usually use to demonstrate power or acquire sympathizers. These media actions guaranteed the terror of potential targets and new members.


    While listening to the news, Fadala realized his current condition. His suit was tattered and dirty, and his glasses had one of the lenses cracked. He went to his closet and chose a new change of clothes, as well as a new pair of glasses. He decided that he would take a shower and go downstairs to prepare something for him and Akachi to eat.


    Before he went into the shower, his cell phone emitted a holoprojection of Babu. Fadala went over to the device and slid the button on the screen.


    "God bless you, Fadala, my son. I wish you well on your mission."


    "I wish the same for my Babu. The boy with the spiritual key is with me. They trust me."


    "They?"


    "Yes. The Masters of Suspicion took us in. My infiltration mission was unsuccessful. I beg your pardon. Nyatui, a Master of Suspicion who was accompanying us, ended up staying behind so that I could retreat with Akachi. We fought off three sages, but managed to escape. We''re going to the central base of the Ilu Nla Liberation Movement, where Spin Bomb, Mashal and Feruzi will be waiting for us."


    "Things seem to have escalated a lot after our last contact. I''m traveling to Ades Adeba. I will see for myself the source of the danger to Africa and the world. Continue to protect young Akachi, be a guardian to him, my son."


    "So it shall be, my Babu."

 Song 103: The phantom pain

    After the confrontation with Nyatui, General Luena flew quickly to the Ilu Nla Army General Hospital. She made a forced landing in the institution''s parking lot. She stumbled across the courtyard until she reached the lobby. She asked for emergency assistance. The attendants were shocked to see her condition.


    The soldier roared furiously, destroying part of the lobby with her laminated wings. From then on, rationality abandoned her. A medical team came to help. They struggled to contain her. Until, after shots were fired from projectile-electrocutes, she was contained by the hospital''s security guards. Not before seriously injuring some doctors and nurses.


    The pain kept her mind conscious after that. Her senses were failing. Her touch was hypersensitive and her speech was slurred. When she communicated, her voice came out slurred and disjointed. She was rushed to the intensive care unit. A battery of tests was carried out, but it was not possible to diagnose the cause of the strange necrosis on her amputated right forearm.


    Surgery was to be carried out on her shoulder. Luena, in her desperation, didn''t consider doing it herself. She feared the worst. Her action could have triggered a new reaction. However, the medical team had no time to lose. Wait any longer and her life would be forfeit, which would cause problems for the military hospital.


    The surgery was carried out as a matter of urgency. A customizable cybernetic arm was put in place. It would help with healing and allow her to continue fighting without disadvantage.


    General Luena slept for hours. When she woke up, she found herself in an intensive care ward. It was cold and aseptic. Next to the window, he noticed the presence of a figure. He turned towards her. Without his military armor, he felt vulnerable. Instinctively, the woman clenched her fists and rose from the bed.


    "I''m glad you''re all right, General Luena."


    "General Gahiji? What are you doing here? I hope you didn''t come to kill me in my sleep. That would be too low even for members of the Phalanx."


    "I would never use one of his tricks, and besides, I don''t consider you an enemy. There''s someone much more dangerous around us."


    Gahiji walked across the room. His hands were clasped behind his back, adding to his suspicious appearance.


    Luena noticed his grim countenance, very different from the proud military man of his rank, formal and respectful. He looked nothing like the old General Gahiji. She attributed this to the loss of his subordinates.


    Suddenly, Luena felt a pain in her right arm. It was as if the tendon was strangling her bones. She put her other hand on her cybernetic prosthesis. Although the circuits were connected to the tissues and nerves in her shoulder, she didn''t feel the cold of the metal, or the electricity running through the circuit boards.


    She felt deep pain. The arm that no longer existed ached as if it had melted into acid. Luena sweated. She struggled, and with her other hand tried to unlock the prosthesis connector. She began to perspire.


    "Get it off me! Argh! I want to get out!"


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    "Wait, General Luena¡­"


    The woman tried to get up and escape, but she fell. Her naked body wouldn''t obey her. The basic biocybernetics structure that supported her body was unable to exercise its main directives.


    With a care that amazed the military officer, Gahiji helped her back onto the bed. Suspicious, she didn''t thank him. She closed her eyes. She bit her lips. She turned her face away.


    "Don''t expect any gratitude from me. If you''ve come to mock my situation, leave!"


    "I don''t have these childish moods."


    Gahiji sat on the edge of the bed. General Luena put his legs together and crossed his arms. He maintained his self-defense posture.


    The atmosphere of tension between the two only increased. The ties that bound the members of the Phalanx were much more one of rivalry than camaraderie. Their loyalties were divided between subordinates and interim President Ojwang. Only the strong presence of the Head of State kept the balance of the conflict in suspension.


    "I don''t think General Gahiji came to wish me good luck in the post-operative period."


    He turned to Luena. His face was like a stony mask. It was as if all feelings had fled into the shadows of his coldness.


    "There is a powerful enemy between us. One that we are so close to that we ignore it. Don''t make that face. It''s impossible that all our efforts have been in vain. We are generals, not incompetents, General Luena."


    "I don''t understand what you''re implying. You seem paranoid to me. You need to control yourself or these imaginary enemies will defeat you, General Gahiji."


    The military officer slammed his fists on his thighs and got out of bed. He walked back and forth across the room. Then he stopped, put his hands on the bed sheets. He stared at the military officer in front of him, and between his teeth, he said:


    "It''s all General Jitujeusi''s fault."


    General Luena was startled. It was the first time she had seen her fellow student in such a state of madness. She wondered what was going on in his head. The loss of his Phalangettes had come as a shock to him. His mind had denied his own guilt in underestimating his enemies, and now he was transferring it to the other general.


    He didn''t know whether to agree, and thus keep himself safer, or contradict him and try to reason with him. Luena was sweating. She felt at risk in that presence. In that state. Gahiji could turn against her, he would be an easy target. She had to be ambiguous. She decided to instill more doubt than certainty in his mind.


    "How did you come to that conclusion?"


    "Don''t play the fool, General Luena! You know that Jitujeusi is a man without scruples or principles. He joined our cause at the last minute. He flatters our leader Ojwang in a shameful way, and has even managed to get custody of our biggest political prisoner: Adsa. I think he''s even planning to take the president''s place."


    Gahiji was making serious accusations. Outside that room, those words would provoke a civil war in the Ilu Nla Armed Forces. Between facts and delusions, General Gahiji was making Luena reconsider his position.


    The military woman put her hand under her chin. Reflectively, she pondered the situation and thought that the rivalry between the other two generals would soon escalate into war. By making the two clashes, she could override the survivor and form a new Phalanx of which she would be the leader. This desire was nurtured by all three, each in their own way.


    "Even if you''re right, and I don''t doubt that you are, General Jitujeusi looks after the military-engineering area of the cyber troops. He''s also a scientist, and has the trump card of keeping Adsa under his wing. He''s the closest to Ojwang, that''s for sure!"


    "Listen, General Luena. My enemy is our enemy. He won''t stop doing us harm, he''ll undermine our strength and place in the Ilu Nla Army. If you''re willing to listen to me, we''ll remove a trojan horse from our lives."


    "Okay, I''m all ears."


    General Gahiji outlined his plan in great detail. Military cooperation between the generals had already been authorized by President Ojwang, and anything that came of it would attract less attention from the others. The time was ripe. Ojwang, the presidential entourage and General Jitujeusi would be absent.


    They were traveling to Ethiopia to take part in an African Union summit. The continental and intergovernmental organization would make Ilu Nla official as a member country. There would be bilateral meetings and the interim presidency would strengthen ties with African countries.


    Luena''s eyes flashed when Gahiji finished speaking. If everything went well, they would defeat General Jitujeusi, the Circle of Sages and the Ilu Nla Liberation Movement at the same time. When everything was over and all the spiritual keys were in his possession, he would report General Gahiji to Ojwang.

 Song 104: The Circle of Sages

    Around Ilu Nla, in a location that is difficult to access, is an underground sanctuary. This construction, carved out of the earth''s rocky womb, is connected to a series of interconnected tunnels. All this was built to shelter the sages in times of crisis and secret meetings. Today it serves as a hideout for its remnants.


    The trio walked through the dimly lit corridors. Its walls were adorned with petroglyphs. They depicted the history of Ilu Nla, with a focus on the sages. The rock carvings illustrated in detail how civilization was born, with all the historical coherence typical of these narratives, as well as establishing their national heroes.


    Jabir walked obliviously, he was the oldest of the group, his memories no longer impressed him.


    Durojaiye accompanied him, but saw things in a different light. He thought that uniting the mediumistic peoples under one banner had prevented a lot of bloodshed. The centralization of power in the figure of a monarch had legitimized the country''s sovereignty over other nations, but nothing had been enough to stop the rise of a domestic enemy like Ojwang. They had failed at some point.


    Nkechi was too bored to talk to or face those ancestral figures. She felt she had failed them. She had gone to the tournament in the Grand Arena to finish off General Luena, she had the chance to get her hands on the Spiritual Key of Faith, and she hadn''t succeeded at anything.


    The three arrived in a circular hall with stone, wood and metal icons. Part of the room was filled with electronic equipment, used to hack government transmissions and communicate with informants. The light of the torches cast the shadow of the pair of hosts.


    One of them was sitting on a stool, his legs spread and his hands on his knees. His curly hair was down to his shoulders. He was tall and strong. On his forehead was a battered leather tiara adorned with two boar''s tusks. His eyes stared steadily and his face expressed authority.


    The second was standing in profile. When he saw the newcomers, he turned towards them. A man of medium height wore a jovial smile. He looked out of shape compared to the other, but he still had a lot of strength. His hair was curly and short. His eyes were small and his cheeks protruded. His thick lips revealed pearly teeth as he laughed. He was the first to speak:


    ¡°You''ve made quite a mess up there! The Circle of Sages is becoming more and more famous.¡±


    ¡°Don''t crowd! Hakim.¡±


    ¡°All right, old goat.¡±


    ¡°Respect your elder, you fool. To this day, I don''t know how you became a sage.¡±


    Jabir pushed past him. The two didn''t get on very well. Hakim considered Jabir a grumpy old man, and his senior judged the younger medium as someone unworthy of carrying a Spirit Key


    Nkechi tried to escape the inquisitive gaze of the man sitting on the stool. He went to the pot of water and tried to quench his thirst.


    Durojaiye didn''t need to dissemble, she was the most carefree member of the group. She avoided burdening her mind with worries as much as possible. She knew how difficult her mission was, and she didn''t want to wear herself out with worry. She picked up a nail file and began to analyze the cuticles on her fingers. She began to work on them.


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    Veins popped out on the forehead of the man sitting on the stool. With a pulse of Ax¨¦, the flames of the torches flickered. Everyone turned to him.


    ¡°You left to carry out a simple mission. You return without accomplishing it. You ignore your own failure. Yerodin''s sacrifice seems to have been in vain. Our enemy increases its sphere of power every day, while we pretend to do something. Our people continue to suffer, we need to be more efficient and cautious.¡±


    ¡°Don''t blame us for Yerodin''s death. It was the division in the Circle of Sages itself that weakened us, Ekundayo.¡±


    Jabir spoke with resentment in his voice. Despite his courage, he took two steps back when he saw the man get up from his stool.


    ¡°It was thanks to the transfer of blame that Ojwang took over the government. We were too preoccupied with our personal skirmishes. We are Ilu Nla''s last line of defense, my dear Jabir. We can''t afford to be wrong.¡±


    Durojaiye crushed the sandpaper with his long-nailed hands. A crunching sound echoed in the air. His face closed into a grimace.


    ¡°You''re our leader, Ekundayo, you led us here. You''ve helped us survive, it''s true. But stay humble, the greatest of kings is weak without his subjects.¡±


    Nkechi leaned his shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms. He ran his eyes down the hall. It all seemed so pathetic in her eyes. She was the youngest member of the sages. She couldn''t understand how the others wasted so much time on pointless, repetitive arguments. She had already heard this litany several times without reaching a solution.


    Guilt? She understood that everyone was guilty until proven otherwise. For Nkechi, Yerodin had died because he had done everything himself. She blamed the Masters of Suspicion for their cowardice and Adsa for his opportunism. The sages were both victims and accomplices in what had happened in Ilu Nla.


    ¡°Mr. Ekundayo talks as if it''s very easy to take out a Phalanx general. They are the elite of Ojwang''s cyber troops. During the Grand Arena Tournament, we dealt with powerful enemies, plus there were other factions at work and they got in our way.¡±


    ¡°One general can''t be more powerful than three sages combined.¡±


    ¡°I didn''t make myself clear. Just as we were about to execute the wretch, we realized that  Akachi was also at the tournament, in disguise, with Nyatui and a mortician in tow. Nyatui fought Luena, and we gave priority to capturing the Spiritual Key of Faith. We couldn''t get it out of the kid.¡±


    Hakim and Ekundayo were astonished. They wondered inside why a master of suspicion and a member of the Il¨º Apanyan were united with Azekel''s grandson. The sage Hakim crossed his arms. He raised an eyebrow to emphasize his accusatory tone.


    ¡°That doesn''t make sense, Nkechi. You mean you had the chance to kill two birds with one stone and you let them both get away?¡±


    ¡°No, Hakim, come on.¡±


    ¡°Don''t put your hand on their heads, Ekundayo.¡±


    ¡°The situation wasn''t favorable for one thing or another. Akachi''s situation is curious. The relationship between him and the two groups protecting him is unlikely, even impossible. Funeral directors are assassins for hire, not bodyguards. The Masters of Suspicion have gone into exile, they shouldn''t even know if Adsa''s son is alive or not.¡±


    ¡°There''s no guarantee that he''s a mortician, he wouldn''t even have the motivation to babysit a kid like that.¡±


    ¡°There''s no certainty that he isn''t.¡±


    Ekundayo pondered the situation. He considered Il¨º Apanyan to be an organization with shady interests. Meddling in other people''s business, but never reckless. He considered the possibility that the funeral director was a renegade. But Babu, everyone knew, was not flexible with betrayals. The order of assassins followed its laws at their peril.


    The leadership of the sage asked Jabir and Durojaiye to confirm the report, which they did. The leader put a hand under his chin and smoothed it slowly. He pondered the possible motivations for Akachi, Nyatui and a mortician to take part in the tournament.


    He inferred that the assassin for hire was on a mission to execute General Luena, but at whose behest? Why would an ex-sage come out of anonymity and make such a risky alliance with someone as dangerous as a mortician? Were the other two masters of suspicion also acting in the shadows? The questions remain unanswered.


    What had really made him curious was how Adsa''s son had gotten out of Ojwang''s clutches and escaped to Nyatui and his companions. It was a confusing story. Suddenly, a holocall signal attracted the attention of Ekundayo and the others. The leader of the sages went to the dusty old terminal and pressed the button. The image of Prince Happy was projected.


    ¡°Hello, how are you? I have some warm news for you, my dear sages.¡±

 Song 105: Nebulous future

    The African Union is a continental organization created in 2002. It was born out of the demand of African statesmen to reformulate integration policy and meet their new social and political demands.


    Before that, there was the Organization of African Unity, founded in 1963 under the influence of Pan-Africanism, while large parts of Africa were still colonized by Europeans. The resolution to change it was passed at a conference in Sirte, Libya on September 9, 1999. The headquarters were inaugurated in 2003 in Ades Adeba, the capital of Ethiopia. In 2023, it became part of the G20.


    The multi-ethnic and multi-religious country has experienced an intense contrast between its modernization and the civil wars that have devastated the country. Ethiopia, one of the first to join the second wave of BRICS+, has become one of the most important states on the African continent due to its important geographical position and economic potential.


    Interim President Ojwang needed to join the African Union and convince the members to accept Ilu Nla. Bilateral agreements between the Ethiopian president and Ilu Nla for the transfer of cyber-military technology would help secure access to the club. However, Ojwang''s ambition was even greater.


    Two days before his speech defending Ilu Nla''s entry into the body, a cocktail party was held for the representatives of African states at the Ethiopian president''s official residence. Ojwang was well received and circulated around the room with a glass of champagne. Political allies and onlookers approached him and struck up conversations.


    However, he realized he was being watched. He asked his interlocutors for permission and went out onto one of the building''s balconies. He leaned against the railing, turned around, put an elbow on it and raised his glass as if offering it to someone behind the red velvet curtains.


    "You''re not very subtle, sir¡­"


    The man stepped out from behind the curtains and introduced himself with a slight wave of his hand. He was slim, tall and wore a well-tailored suit. His hair was straight and unruly, flowing down to his shoulders. His dark, dry skin gave away his East African origins. His jovial face was partially covered by dark glasses and contradicted his elegant posture.


    "Mr. Nobody, please. Thank you, but I can''t drink on duty. I''m not following, not in the way I''d like. I''m merely curious in search of answers."


    "The curious are the men who put themselves in the most danger. I don''t know how you managed to get in here with that hobo holographic mask."


    "I admit I was less prudent than the gentleman who managed to bypass presidential security and get in with wiretaps and subcutaneous locators."


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    The newcomer approached. His confident aura made Ojwang take a step back. He put both elbows on the railing and removed his sunglasses, deactivating the holographic mask. It revealed his old face with its blotchy skin. He inhaled the air coming from the nearby mountains.


    "The City of Men is incredible, isn''t it? We''re over two thousand meters above sea level, surrounded by the mountains of the Rift Valley. I can even hear Blue Nile¡­"


    "I don''t think you came here to talk about geography, my dear Babu. If you''ve come to kill me, you''d better give up."


    Ojwang pretended to straighten his jacket sleeve. He switched on a micro-signal and, with a nod, pointed to the top of a building a few meters from where they were standing.


    Babu narrowed his eyes. The air shook slightly and a huge dark mass became apparent. It was General Jitujeusi. With subtle gestures, he pulled a cigar from his suit pocket. Ojwang hurried to operate a lighter, with which his interlocutor lit the cigar. The scent of aromatic herbs spiraled from his mouth into the dark sky.


    In a few seconds, Babu felt the synesthesia put him on alert. He had only come to talk to Ojwang. A dangerous attitude, but his intention was not hostile. That didn''t determine how the head of state of Ilu Nla would receive his unexpected visit. Engaging in combat with a member of the Phalanx didn''t seem smart.


    Ojwang thought he had neutralized the threat. He felt more confident. It didn''t seem that the leader of the undertakers wanted to assassinate him. He wanted to know the relationship between the undertaker and Akachi''s ally, but he hadn''t decided whether the possible Il¨º Apanyan defector was a stumbling block or an asset in his hands. He decided not to risk it.


    "They say you see into the future, is that true, undertaker?"


    "Yes, I do."


    "What do you see about me?"


    "Nothing, and that worries me a lot."


    "I thought you were omniscient, hohohoho."


    "No, I only possess clairvoyance. Only God is omniscient and omnipotent, although some people always want to play God."


    Babu gave Ojwang a firm look. The other gave a cynical smile, he had realized the threshold at which the enemy''s investigative power lay.


    "For many, it would be a curse. Imagine facing an unstoppable force and not being able to do anything about it!"


    "For me, it''s a blessing from God, and nothing more. But that gift doesn''t reach you. I''m beginning to think that you don''t belong in this world, or that you''re not under the laws of our clock¡­"


    "You''re a philosopher, Mr. Babu. Too bad you''re not very interested. I think you have less than ten minutes to get out of here before you''re caught by the Ethiopian security guards. Oh, kindly take your puppy back to Il¨º Apanyan, or he''ll suffer the same fate as Ilu Nla''s mediums."


    Ignoring the danger, the leader of the assassins approached at a slow walk. He puffed on his cigar and blew all the smoke from his lungs into the statesman''s face.


    "He''s not a dog, he''s a wolf, he knows how to hunt like no one else and he has sharp fangs."


    The assassin moved to leave, but Ojwang stood in his way. A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead. He didn''t show fear, but uncontainable anger. They both stared at each other in great tension.


    "Don''t meddle in Ilu Nla''s affairs! You''re just a foreigner."


    "You too are a foreigner in this land."


    Babu left, leaving a pensive Ojwang behind. He wondered how much the man knew without his clairvoyance working. Babu was too dangerous to confront directly, and too sneaky to make the first attack. The interim president took a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped the sweat dripping from his forehead, and returned to his diplomatic theater. He needed to drum up support and change public opinion about his government in the rest of Africa.

 Song 106: Movement in the shadows

    The man in the brown jacket with the diagonal red stripe was walking along the production line of the military factory. His hair was short and curly. His whitish temples denoted his experience. He was thin and his yellowish, dry skin showed the absence of sunlight. His eyes remained steadfast in their work, but opaque with sadness.


    He had been the chief scientist for some years in the manufacture of cybertech devices. These weapons supplied Ilu Nla''s cybernetic troops and the Phalanx''s generals. With his tablet, he opened and analyzed the quadlink reports. Other scientists in forced labor had their performance evaluated by the chief scientist.


    With the utmost respect, they showed their progress, answered the questionnaire and suggested improvements to the process. Amorphous-looking robotic units protected the facility alongside heavily armed soldiers. The weapons that the men of science produced in the factory now put their lives at risk.


    The operations leader concluded his report with a sigh. He smoothed out his throat. A steel band wrapped around his neck. A small LCD screen broadcast his biometric data in real time to a command center. The explosive collar was his shackle. If he left the factory, his head would explode.


    He walked towards a staircase leading to the second floor. The routine assessment had been carried out successfully. Suddenly, the invasion alert sounded. It wasn''t long before two soldiers approached, raised their weapons and gave orders to all the scientists:


    "Fall back to the shelter. This isn''t training, we''re under attack."


    "Who? Who''s invading the complex?"


    "You''d better obey, Chief Scientist Adsa. You are a very valuable asset to us."


    Soldiers and robots began firing. Akachi''s father didn''t see the invaders. He didn''t know if they were allies or enemies. He was led away by the military. All around him, explosions were destroying years of research. He didn''t consider it a bad end for his warlike creations. Fewer of his weapons spilling innocent blood.


    The trio made their way down a narrow corridor. There was an atmosphere of tension in the air. The soldiers, in a hurry, kept pointing their weapons backwards. They walked at a fast pace. Adsa obeyed them, in any case, he was still their prisoner. He didn''t know who was after him.


    A shock troop passed them as they crossed a corridor. A whole unit of bipedal tanks were sent to the shed where Adsa had been. Azekel''s son thought that the invaders were too powerful, that it wasn''t just any attack. He doubted very much that it was a foreign military force. However, he didn''t attribute the attack to a handful of sympathizers of the mediums.


    Adsa listened attentively. The soldiers talked among themselves, fearful of the attack. They let valuable information slip.


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    "I can''t believe they''ve come! It can''t be them..."


    "Shi... shut up, you idiot! Just when General Jitujeusi is traveling with the interim president. Damn it, these guys don''t waste any time."


    They got into a freight elevator. Adsa noticed a mistake in the door, it took too long to close. One of the soldiers, frightened as he was, had trouble pressing the buttons on the panel. His partner pushed him, and angrily shouted at the other:


    "You''re an idiot! Don''t you know that in emergencies like this we have to take the chief scientist to..."


    Chuiiif, blood gushed from the soldier''s neck like a fountain. The red spray hit the back of Adsa''s neck and back. He closed his eyes. He felt the warmth of the man''s vital fluids on his skin. He broke out in a cold sweat, swallowed and held his ground. The other soldier screamed in fright, struggling in the elevator, but death had taken him too.


    "You can open your eyes now, Adsa."


    He opened them, not out of obedience to that voice, he knew that the worst was over.  He was no longer at risk of death.


    "What kind of theater is this anyway? The Phalanx isn''t doing this just to get me out of here."


    "It''s not us, it''s them."


    "Them who?"


    Adsa dared to turn around. She could feel the murderous presence in the elevator, which continued to ascend through the building. Not being able to see the killer made him fearful. He began to think that when the elevator doors opened, he would already be dead.


    "I doubt very much that Ojwang is discarding me like this."


    "It''ll be a temporary exit. You need to sunbathe, hihihihihi. But if you die, know that no one is irreplaceable, Doctor Adsa."


    Adsa narrowed his eyes. He had understood what was happening. He wouldn''t be freed, but used.


    "They''re going to risk a big move on the board, and away from the eyes of the rook and the king."


    "Who needs the rook if the queen is on the field? The rook is always too direct in its attack, and the king, too meticulous, needs constant protection."


    "The queen can move wherever she wants, gambit with every pawn she gets her hands on, even the knight."


    "Exactly! It''s amazing how much Adsa looks like your son."


    "Where did you meet my son, you viper? What did you do with him?"


    "I didn''t do anything with him, I didn''t have that pleasure. But there is someone who can give you the answer, and they''re out there."


    The explosive necklace clicked. The clasp opened. It fell to the deactivated floor. The door opened. The scientist no longer sensed the enemy presence. He grabbed the pistol from one of the soldiers. Explosions echoed in the air. Without the presence of Jitujeusi and his phalanxes, with infiltration facilitated by members of the Armed Forces, the military in the complex would not stand a chance against the invaders.


    Akachi''s father got out of the elevator. He was on the factory terrace, in a helipad area. A military helicopter had just landed. Several bodies of military personnel lay broken, a fight had taken place there. He approached the helicopter, which was slowly turning its propellers.


    "Going somewhere, sweetie?"


    "Who''s there?"


    The helicopter door opened. The five members of the Circle of Sages stepped out. Adsa lowered his gun, he didn''t have the strength to react against the mediums. He threw the pistol away. The leader of the group, the bearer of the Spiritual Key of Justice, descended from the aircraft and approached the scientist.


    "I''m glad you''re well, Doctor Adsa."


    "Sage Ekundayo, what do you want from me?"


    "We haven''t seen each other for a long time, that''s not how you treat your friends. Come with us, we need to reconnect."


    Ekundayo walked over to the helicopter and pointed inside in an inviting gesture.


    "Do I have a choice?"


    "No. This isn''t a rescue, it''s a revolutionary act."

 Song 107: Another 24

    The headquarters of the Ilu Nla Liberation Movement was buzzing with the latest news. Spies were coming and going, reporting back. Interim President Ojwang, General Jitujeusi and their Falangetas had gone to Ethiopia to take part in the African Union meeting. The aim was to integrate the country into the institution.


    But what had put everyone on alert was the Circle of Sages'' invasion of a military factory. Versions were mixed, no one knew what they had stolen. The military at the industrial complex hadn''t passed on the information. The reason could be a reprisal from General Jitujeusi, famous for his violence in punishing his soldiers.


    He was responsible for the nation''s technological development. As well as being a brilliant scientist, he possessed the most brilliant minds in Africa. Men and women kidnapped or lured by false promises of work and freedom into high-level scientific research. Many of his projects were stolen from other scientists, but as long as he had the weapons in his hand, he would take credit for all of them.


    It was in this climate that the rebels'' HQ was visited by a strange duo. Over the makeshift barriers made of rebar and walls made of rusty beams and old vehicles, the guards pointed their guns. The new arrivals looked like two beggars, wearing threadbare blankets. They appeared to be refugees.


    However, the guards had orders to investigate asylum seekers. When danger was found, they were ordered to remove them. One of the guards, the oldest, shouted:


    "Who''s coming?"


    The two looked at each other. Their guns were pointed at them. The points of red light from the laser sights danced under their bodies.


    "Who are you? I said identify yourselves!"


    The blankets were thrown away. To the guards'' surprise, the visit was not unwelcome, but expected by all. They sent for the camp leader.


    A few minutes passed before Azekel arrived at the wall. He was short and out of shape. He wore a plaid beret to hide his baldness. Despite his dry skin, he had a laughing face. He removed his beret when he saw the pair on the other side of the wall. He grabbed hold of the railing and tried to jump.


    "Akachi... my... my little grandson."


    The young psychic took a step forward. He couldn''t believe that he had finally found his grandfather again.


    "Grandpa... Azekel?"


    Zup, Azekel jumped off the wall. Before everyone knew it, he had embraced his grandson and suspended him in the air. Akachi''s eyes bulged, his cheeks puffed out and he began to drool. He mumbled in a choked voice. The old man shook him like a rag doll. Azekel''s eyes watered.


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    "My little grandson! How wonderful, how you''ve grown. I''ve been worried all this time..."


    "Grandpa... whew! You''re squeezing me..."


    "You''re becoming just like your father. He''d be so proud of you..."


    Akachi tried hard to keep breathing. Azekel rubbed his chubby cheeks against his grandson''s face. The two of them were crying like crib children. The others smiled at the scene. Fadala scratched his forehead, undecided.


    ?


    On top of a tower crane that served as an observation point and freight elevator between the buildings. Azekel, Akachi and Fadala welcomed the cooling breeze. It was no later than ten in the morning. The day had only just begun and there was plenty to talk about.


    The leader of the rebels spoke about the region they were in. Behind them, there was the wall that separated Ilu Nla from the slums that were three kilometers away. The movement''s headquarters were in an area of unfinished housing estates.


    The buildings had been used by Ojwang to embezzle money, corrupt construction entrepreneurs and public officials. They only contributed to deceiving the population and generating real estate speculation with an unprecedented housing crisis. The price of rent had risen sharply as a result of the lack of housing.


    Electricity was produced by photovoltaic solar panels. Part of the energy was stored in a generator. The water came from an old well dug by the contractor who had won the tender.


    In the course of the conversation, Fadala realized that most of the people in the camp were elderly, children and mutilated. People incapacitated for combat.


    "Where are the young men, Mr. Azekel?"


    "On a mission to gather information and supplies. Some need to plant false information to throw off the authorities. Other groups are on sabotage missions. We need to stay active and show our comrades that we have a chance of winning."


    The Il¨º Apanyan agent shook his head. He was disbelieving when he saw the current situation of the men and women of Ilu Nla. He realized that he had created too many expectations. If they had to protect themselves from an invasion, they would die with no chance of defense.


    Akachi seemed to be the most excited about the situation. He walked along the top of the crane under the watchful eye of his grandfather. He had identified dormitories, snack bars, stores and a weapons cache. On the fourth floor of a building, a group was doing shooting exercises. The guns fired dry, without ammunition. They were saving bullets.


    Azekel sat down on the floor and exhaled the air from his lungs. He had a lot to ask, but one doubt was hanging over his head.


    "You should be in threes. Where''s Nyatui?"


    Akachi lowered his head and remained silent. He put a hand on his grandfather''s shoulder and the old man responded. But it was Fadala who confirmed it with words:


    "We infiltrated the tournament in the Grand Arena. Things didn''t go according to plan. We came between the Circle of Sages and General Luena. Nyatui stayed behind, fought the general and... ended up dying. It wasn''t possible to confirm her death."


    "May Fante Obataiye receive you in his abode, may your spirit honor our ancestors."


    Akachi smoothed his hair. He didn''t know how to deal with death very well. He had lost his master, Yasini, and now Nyatui, who had trained Yasini. He felt that he was also his pupil. To ease his sadness, he decided to talk about the living.


    "Where are the other masters of suspicion? I haven''t seen Spin Bomb for a long time."


    "That''s funny. Ever since she got here, she hasn''t stopped talking about you. Is she your girlfriend or something?"


    Akachi turned as white as paper. The old man shook his grandson by the shoulders. Then the two of them embraced, teary-eyed.


    "Spin Bomb is training with Feruzi. She said she''d like to help. Mashal continues to contribute to our organization. Come with me, we need to meet some people and have something to eat. You''re safe for now, but you need to prepare for what''s to come."

 Song 108: Whoever is alive, always appears!

    Azekel led Akachi and Fadala to a dormitory. He gave his grandson a new change of clothes, which included a long-sleeved buddha with a dark color and red prints, and dark green denim shorts. They came with a new pair of sneakers. The boy looked in a cracked mirror next to the window, feeling protected and free to move. The tunic was open at the sides and went down to his knees.


    The undertaker refused the clothes provided by the ancient sage. He thought the coppery agbad¨¢ pattern with geometric prints was too flashy. He claimed that his clothes had a technological fabric and would need to be dry-cleaned.


    The old man shrugged, said goodbye and suggested that they walk around the camp and get to know the people. After showering, he put on his new clothes and looked for Fadala, but his companion was no longer in the other room. Fenyang suggested floating up behind the teenager and said:


    "Bro, if I were a woman, I''d marry you."


    "Come on, Fenyang, are you weirding me out?"


    "Look, he''s in over his head, people!"


    Akachi buttoned the three buttons of the opening that went down to before his navel. He looked sideways at the Ori Guardian and said:


    "Oh, stop, go! I''m just happy to have found my grandfather again. Let''s see if we can find our friends too."


    "That''s okay, I''ll scan the area and be right back."


    Fenyang disappeared from the medium''s sight. Akachi walked through the camp. Some people recognized his appearance as Adsa. Others already knew that he was Azekel''s grandson and stopped to welcome him. The boy felt welcomed by everyone. Walking through the streets, he noticed that everyone was busy with something.


    Men and women, even children, were helping out. The community was growing with refugees and fugitives from Ilu Nla. Most of them were sympathizers of the mediums, or simple citizens affected by the authoritarianism of the Republic. The new government had been installed with great promise, but had only led to disappointment among the weakest.


    Fenyang came up behind him. He said that Mashal and Feruzi were not there. In the company of his Guardian Ori, Akachi walked through the dusty streets of the camp. The headquarters of the Ilu Nla Liberation Movement was bustling with life. Street vendors circulated around the site with their guides, humming their prices. Food stalls stretched along a short avenue.


    "It''s like a street in Chrome Hill, only without the asphalt¡­"


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    "And without military drones policing the population. No shootings taking innocent lives. No drug dealers shooting at people just for fun, different but the same, bro. At least they managed to resist, but¡­ until when?"


    "At least they have hope, Fenyang."


    "If the rebels don''t take power back, they''ll have to resist all their lives. Resisting is surviving, not the same as living. To live, you don''t have to leave the house with a shield or armor, just go for a walk."


    Akachi continued walking until he came to a canteen. The tables were made from wooden spools for steel cables, and the seats were made from recycled tires. Lunch would be served; it was close to midday. Adsa''s son''s stomach rumbled when he smelled the food.


    He felt a certain embarrassment. He hadn''t helped at all so far, and he was going to have lunch. He shook his head. Suddenly, he felt two familiar Ax¨¦ vibrations. He turned to look. He got up from his seat. His heart hammered in his chest. On the other side was Feruzi in his typical cape, and next to him was her, wet with sweat from head to toe.


    "Akachi!"


    She rushed forward. She stopped wide-eyed. It wouldn''t do.


    Damn it! What am I thinking, running into his arms?


    "Spin Bomb?"


    Akachi was incredulous. It was her, but she looked so different from last time. Maybe it was the boxer braids, the brown leather gloves, the bogolan-print tank top or the more menacing posture she emanated.


    "Of course, right, asshole?"


    She put her hands on her waist and looked steadily at her friend. Akachi took a step back. After that, they both started laughing nervously. They didn''t know how to react.


    Feruzi snorted. He feigned a backache and sat down at the table. Spin Bomb and Akachi did the same. The sage looked at Azekel''s grandson and said:


    "To come all this way, I suppose the infiltration wasn''t a success."


    "We weren''t successful, and¡­ we had to fight General Luena and the members of the Circle of Sages. They were also infiltrating the tournament. Nyatui stayed behind to make sure that Fadala and I escaped with the Spirit Key."


    Akachi lowered his eyes, avoiding Feruzi''s gaze. Spin Bomb stood up and slammed his closed fists on the table.


    "What do you mean he''s dead? Why didn''t you help him?"


    "Sit down, Spin Bomb. Don''t judge too hastily."


    "But Nyatui didn''t have to die."


    "I am your master, now obey me! Nyatui was a warrior, and everyone who goes to war knows his probable fate. The battlefield smells of death, it''s the only smell you can smell there. Don''t judge those who survived."


    "Your death will not be in vain, Nyatui, I promise!"


    Feruzi cast an icy glance at the girl. His Ax¨¦ thrust caused Spin Bomb to fall back into her seat. Silence fell over the trio. The sage, with his pale hands, smoothed the ribs of the wood. He drew the word wisdom with the tip of his index finger. The firework sword maker turned her face away, disappointed in herself.


    The master of suspicion asked Akachi to recount the details of his old friend''s death. He had given up his life to save that boy. The former sage considered it unworthy to fight against his former comrades. The sages should be allies against Ojwang. Now he was certain that he couldn''t fight them. He felt a mixture of emotions he had never felt before.


    The conversation continued until more people arrived. Akachi asked Feruzi where Mashal was.


    "After he got here, he took over command of the rebels. That''s all he thinks about now. He''s a typical idealist."


    "And you Spin Bomb, what have you been doing? Mr. Feruzi said he was your master or something."


    "Oh, let''s just say I''ve got a few surprises tucked away in the palm of my hand."


    Spin Bomb removed his leather gloves. He showed Akachi the back of his hand and opened his fingers like a fan. Her hands looked like they had been burned, but not by explosions or chemicals. They had patterns on them. They were scarifications with religious symbols.

 Song 109: Focus on mission

    After meeting again, Akachi and Spin Bomb talked animatedly. Feruzi listened to them both, amazed at the news they were telling him, at the ordeal each of them had been through. Under his hood, he smiled a few times in silence. It was a way of camouflaging the pain of losing his old friend.


    He had always considered Nyatui to be a problematic guy, and he didn''t agree with him on anything. However, he would be missed. He was a medium of fiber. The two of them had been companions in the old Circle of Sages. The institution to which he had contributed was now his enemy.


    He would have liked to have listened to Yerodin, the Sage of Knowledge, his disciple. Feruzi considered it an outrage to die after his student. He knew how impermanent, unpredictable and unfair life was. The old man didn''t notice the coming and going of people in the canteen. He hadn''t touched the lunch in front of him, and only woke up from his torrent of thoughts after being tapped on the shoulder by Spin Bomb.


    ¡°Master Feruzi, you haven''t eaten. Are you all right?¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Spin Bomb. You''re a good student. You have a very hard shell, but a soft heart inside.¡±


    She crossed her arms, turned her face and puffed out her cheeks. She was proud of herself that her master recognized her sensitivity, but she didn''t want to admit it.


    Akachi found the situation amusing. The firework sword maker was short-tempered, but still an admirable person. Her harsh manner was a way she had found to protect herself from disappointment, from others and from the world. She had dreams, and they had died in tears and hopelessness.


    She watched Feruzi and her friend, unable to imagine a scenario where the girl could be apprenticed to that taciturn old man. The master of suspicion was introspective, but had a firm character. Totally different from the irritable and noisy young woman he taught. It was an exotic combination.


    ¡°I saw the scars, but I didn''t quite understand what training Spin Bomb went through. Can she bind spirits too, Mr. Feruzi?¡±


    ¡°Well, she¡­¡±


    ¡°Don''t say anything! It''s a secret. I''ll reveal it when the time is right.¡±


    ¡°On ¡®D¡¯ day, at ¡®H¡¯ time.¡±


    ¡°Don''t stuff it, Akachi.¡±


    Feruzi pretended to eat something. He''d lost his appetite. The food wasn''t wasted. It was hard to come by in those circumstances. Spin Bomb ate the rest greedily. The young woman had put a lot of effort into her training.


    After lunch, Feruzi dismissed the pair of youngsters. He felt too old to babysit them.


    The artisan took the medium to meet people with whom she had forged a friendship. Akachi noticed that some people had learned to make firework swords. Instead of bamboo, they used aluminum tubes. There was a whole production line. Spin Bomb corrected the measurement of the ingredients for one of his apprentices.


    ¡°Wasn''t that a secret art of your clan?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but now that practice is tainted with blood. That''s it, it''s all over. I don''t even care anymore, damn it! I wanted to fill Ojwang''s ass with all those swords and¡­¡±


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    ¡°It''s okay, there''s no need to get upset.¡±


    ¡°It''s fucking fine! It''ll only be okay when we kill that son of a bitch. Come on, I want to show you my hideout.¡±


    ¡°Aren''t we already in a hiding place?¡±


    ¡°Stop being a pain, kid, let''s go.¡±


    At dusk, Spin Bomb took Akachi to his favorite place in the rebel headquarters. A makeshift staircase made of scaffolding had been built into the wall. They climbed to the top to watch the sunset. On top of the hexagonal wall, they sat down. A twilight breeze stirred their hair.


    The sky began to turn red. The first stars shone through the pink clouds. For a few moments, there was silence. Only the sharp whistle of the wind could be heard. Akachi and Spin Bomb''s hands groped along the wall until they met. The two looked at each other in surprise. Each turned their face to one side.


    The girl quickly pulled her hand away. She began to giggle. She was feeling silly in that situation. Akachi made her feel like that, in a mixture of euphoria and sentimental confusion. Close to him, she felt a thread of hope for better days. He chased away the shadows of the bad days.


    The medium raised an eyebrow. He couldn''t admit that she was laughing at him. He lowered his head. He crossed his arms, uncrossed them; he didn''t want to appear insecure. He fingered the concrete with his fingertips. He looked at Spin Bomb and couldn''t help himself. He laughed along with her. They both laughed until they lost their breath.


    ¡°What''s happening to us?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know, I just know it''s¡­¡±


    Ah, bro! This is the springtime of youth, when nature calls men and women to their responsibilities.


    ¡°Uargh!¡±


    ¡°What is it Akachi? What the fuck, I got scared!¡±


    Spin Bomb put his hands on his chest. His breathing had become heavy. Her breasts were rising and falling under her blouse.


    Between the couple, Fenyang had appeared. He had the same smile as Master Cat in Alice in Wonderland. Akachi waved his hand to ward off the spirit. The Ori Guardian stepped aside.


    ¡°I''m sorry, it''s just that Fenyang appears overnight without warning. This mediumship thing still scares me. Despite the time, I haven''t managed to adapt well.¡±


    ¡°Damn it, Fenyang, fuck off! Stop acting like a haunting. You fucking ghost. I wanted to hit him so badly.¡±


    ¡°He''s gone.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure?¡±


    ¡°I think so.¡±


    ¡°That''s all it takes, a snooping ghost. I don''t know, I wouldn''t get used to a ghost on my shoulder.¡±


    ¡°It''s strange at first¡­ but then you get used to it.¡±


    The pair looked at the horizon again. Night had fallen and cast webs of shadows across the land. The stars shone, far apart, authentic in their brilliance and individualistic in their position. The medium imagined how lonely a star must be, that even within a constellation, it lived alone, without touching others.


    Looking out over the barren expanse in front of him, after a lonely unpaved road, Spin Bom saw the favelas. The place where she had taken refuge and the people who had welcomed her no longer existed. They had entered the cycle of ancestry, whose subject''s death is not an end, but a new beginning.


    The artisan always saw human life as a firework. It begins to burn brightly, throws high sparks everywhere, then weakens until it loses all luster. He raised his head to the sky and pointed at the stars.


    ¡°In my clan, the elders used to say that we invented fireworks to imitate the brilliance of the stars.¡±


    ¡°It''s a poetic vision, I think.¡±


    ¡°Now those same stars are being used to destroy things and kill people. It all sucks, Akachi. I wish everything would go back to normal.¡±


    ¡°It''s not possible, Spin Bomb. It''s not possible.¡±


    ¡°Don''t be pessimistic, not now.¡±


    ¡°Pessimistic? I''m being realistic, with you, with me. Change happens, it''s necessary. Some people are afraid of change and others want it to happen too quickly. This whole war started because of that. What we''re going to do is balance things out a bit.¡±


    ¡°Do you think that''s possible?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I want to try. But I can''t do it alone.¡±


    ¡°I''ll help you. Without you I''d be like a silly cockroach in the dump, hihihihi.¡±


    Spin Bomb punched Akachi lightly on the shoulder. Then she turned her face towards the stars and blushed again.


    Azekel''s grandson remembered their first meeting. He was lying unconscious in a pile of garbage, amnesiac. He had been saved. But the danger had not ceased. Hyena-mutants appeared and tried to snack on the two teenagers. Instinctively, he used his mediumship abilities and saved Spin Bomb.


    She had taken him into her home on Chrome Hill. Now they were there, united by chance, but firm in their resolve to put an end to those days of sadness, the only thing a dictatorial government can produce. The interim president was not just an enemy of the mediums, he was the symbol and tool of the destruction of a happy life. At least, everyone thought they were less unhappy before he arrived.


    Akachi clenched his fists. He had to restore hope to the people of Ilu Nla. It was a great responsibility. At first, he had refused. He was afraid he wouldn''t be able to fulfill the mission. But he could no longer turn his back on it. The power of the Spiritual Key of Faith had allowed him to walk again, now he could walk wherever he wanted. He would continue towards the future.

 Song 110: Refusal of salvation

    Despite being received respectfully in the rebel camp, Fadala didn''t feel at home. He stood out from the crowd in every way. People instinctively turned away from him in the cramped, dusty corridors of the hideout. He didn''t care, he was a killer.


    What he found strange was his relationship with mediums. People he had hitherto been unaware of, but had come to protect and care about. He wished things had turned out differently. Deep down in his heart, he wished he hadn''t disappointed his Babu and had turned away from the assassins'' creed.


    He felt weak in his mission. Forging bonds of friendship was forbidden. His devotion had to be to serving Il¨º Apanyan. There was no time for anything else. His existential clock was predetermined to follow the hours of an institution that received money to perform spiritual hygiene in the name of God.


    He rejected the common notion of God, that omniscient and omnipresent being who observes everything without being seen. God was a mystery, a secret poorly told by human history. Something that could only be grasped through belief. An irrationalist way of thinking, a dogmatic certainty, an absurd axiom that denied doubt. There was the presence of an absence, a place where transcendence and metaphysics ceased to exist.


    Fadala, drowning in his stream of thought, was inside an old building under construction. The evening light streamed in through the windows without finding any barriers. The sun''s rays couldn''t reach him, he was in the shadows. He placed the two pistols in front of him on a piece of fallen concrete in front of him.


    He removed his suit, rolled up the sleeves of his white silk shirt and plunged his face into both hands. His life was absurd, but it still existed. He stayed like that for a few seconds until his smartphone emitted a light signal and a holoprojection appeared.


    "My son, don''t be discouraged on your journey. The path is made of stones and thorns, and they lead to a narrow door that only the faithful to God can enter."


    Fadala got out of his position and put one knee on the ground. Ashamed of his frailty, he bowed his head. In front of him were a pair of pistols. Staying away from their weapons was a serious offense for funeral directors. The murderers were constantly reminded that they were not firearms, but weapons of faith. It was through them that evil was exorcised from this world by fire and gunpowder.


    ¡°Excuse me, my Babu.¡±


    Babu''s eyes held the serenity of the elders. His hologram represented him sitting cross-legged with his hands intertwined on his knees. The representation emitted a slight downgrade, which indicated that the transmission was made in a dangerous place or in motion.


    The leader of the assassins didn''t need to make an effort to understand the state of crisis his subordinate was facing. He knew his moral fiber. Fadala''s selflessness was immense. He had never bowed to the restlessness of the mind. He considered him his legitimate successor. He knew of the suspicions that his appointment would face within Il¨º Apanyan.


    "There is nothing to be forgiven. Put those thoughts away. They will lead you to ruin."


    "From the beginning, I thought about declining this mission. Perhaps out of pride, or fear of disappointing you, I accepted it. But I can''t deny how it''s been messing with my head. The early days were always right: love and friendship weaken the heart."


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    "A wise king said: ''Elevate your heart above all else, for from it comes life. It is the only patrimony we possess. The only material inheritance that God has bequeathed to us. But faith is an incalculable treasure. Sad for the people who lose it."


    "Don''t torture me with my anguish, Babu. I''m not a king, let alone a wise one."


    ¡°My son, you are the trigger for a new era.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes¡­ I feel like an instrument.¡±


    Fadala whispered that to himself. The words cut him like razors.


    When Babu heard that, he closed his eyes. He felt a bitter taste in his mouth. His most outstanding disciple was questioning the creed. But in the lines written by God''s fingers, this was also recorded. He read in silence with a solitary tear running down his eye.


    "You are not a puppet, you have never had strings attached to you. You have always moved freely in the world. You''ve acquired a purpose."


    The assassin considered speaking. He let the silence communicate for him. Silence, although it had no sound, had form. Everything that has form is language, it communicates. Silence wasn''t written, but it could be read in its entirety. It was an eternal generation of expectations, until the first syllable sounded and made the whole empty wall collapse.


    Emptiness, yes, that''s what doubt generated when it eroded the meaning of a life. Why kill people in the name of God? Why didn''t he do it himself? Who was he to rise to that position? The Il¨º Apanyan gunmen had once been called the Hands of God. But they were nothing more than human hands soiled with blood.


    ¡°Fadala, to many, perhaps even to many of your brothers, I''m just a decrepit old man giving orders from atop a throne¡­¡±


    The assassin raised his head for the first time. He stood and made the sign of the cross.


    ¡°I''ve never thought or said such a thing, even in a whisper.¡±


    "Oh, my son, I am the Pupil of God. I have the blessing and the burden of seeing the future. My anguish is to see it as a tapestry of fleeting images, and never be able to tell anyone what I have seen at the risk of my own damnation. Impermanence is an affliction for those who live in the present knowing everything that will happen."


    ¡°The pain of all the prophets.¡±


    "The misery of all prophets. You have to move a lot of pieces on the chessboard of destiny to make the tides of time ripple¡­ indirectly, and with a lot of patience."


    ¡°I don''t see the future as you do, but I realize that whatever my future is, there will be no salvation.¡±


    "Salvation is a choice, and you''ve already renounced it. But God knows all things."


    The mortician sat back down. The sun''s rays reached him. The reflection of the light filled his surroundings with a whitish aura. For Babu, his noblest son had never looked so shiny.


    "I had a meeting with Acting President Ojwang. He''s like an ouroboros, he''s in and out of time."


    His interlocutor''s eyes lit up. That was very revealing. An even more complex scenario had been built up in that war.


    ¡°Tell me, my son, do you still consider yourself fit for this mission?¡±


    ¡°Yes, more than ever.¡±


    ¡°Then God bless you on your way.¡±


    The holoprojection ended. Babu was sitting near the window of the helicopter. The aircraft was flying over Taraba state, east-central Nigeria, which borders Cameroon. Near Chappal Waddi Mountain, more than two thousand four hundred meters above sea level, wedged between mountains, was the headquarters of Il¨º Apanyan.


    The ancient building had been abandoned many centuries ago by an ancient civilization when the order of assassins seized it and turned it into their fortress. The building, which was a hybrid of Islamic fortifications and medieval European castles, remained exclusive and at the same time anachronistic with all the modern equipment and facilities.


    The aircraft landed at the heliport. A small guard received Babu. They welcomed him with some trepidation. Unlike the leader, they didn''t have clairvoyance, they just received orders and carried them out with devotion. One of them, with a face marked by various scars and a rough voice, said on behalf of the others:


    "We greet our Babu, and may God keep him safe. We wish you a pleasant trip. How was your meeting with the Acting President of Ilu Nla?"


    ¡°He spoke little, but threatened a lot, and said nothing.¡±


    ¡°My Babu, I''ve never seen you so worried about a man¡­¡±


    The assassin stopped talking. Babu''s eyes shone intimidatingly, as if they were on fire.


    ¡°He''s not just a man anymore, my son, not anymore, that''s why he''s so dangerous.¡±

 Song 111: The imaginary is worth a thousand words

    It was the second day after Akachi and Fadala''s arrival. Mashal still hadn''t returned and wasn''t answering Feruzi''s calls. Azekel tried to keep everyone calm, showed confidence in his companion and declared that he would be back soon. The Il¨º Apanyan agent, using his instincts, soon realized that something was wrong.


    Akachi, with his grandfather, began to help the community. Whenever his grandson spoke about mediumship, the old man said nothing. He seemed to show no interest in the subject. The young medium insisted, asked curiously about his Of¨®, but Azekel pretended not to hear. He soon moved on to something else and asked his grandson to concentrate on the task at hand.


    "No, Grandpa Azekel, please! What is the name of your Ori Guardian? Yasini helped me get to know my mediumistic profile, what is your mediumistic profile?"


    "Akachi, be careful, lift that part."


    The pair were supporting a long concrete pillar. It was being used to reinforce the rooms of a house under construction. Their legs trembled under the weight and the long bar became unbalanced.


    "We should use Ax¨¦ to do this faster, then we''ll have more time to talk."


    The veins popped out of Azekel''s forehead. He sniffed heavily through his nostrils and muttered angrily:


    "Don''t be lazy, boy! Ancestry is no toy."


    "Why are you yelling at me?"


    The argument raised both their tempers. What was supposed to be an activity to bring the family closer together, generated stress. Sweat poured down their faces. The two of them tried to balance the pillar, but it collapsed to the ground with a long bang. A curtain of dust rose, and grandson and grandfather, between accusations and bouts of coughing, looked at each other.


    Azekel picked up his beret and tapped it on his grandson''s shoulder, not in anger, but to wipe off the dust. Akachi scratched the back of his head and gave an awkward smile. They both sat down on the beam and blew all the air out of their lungs. The ex-sage took a bottle of water and gave it to his grandson.


    "Thanks, Grandpa."


    "Sometimes you remind me of your father, and I feel like hitting you. Stubborn like nothing I''ve ever seen. Then I remember your mother Fuhara¡­ then I want to hit you even harder, you and your father are very different from her, hohoho."


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    "What was she like?"


    "She was a good wife and an excellent daughter-in-law. She suffered a risky pregnancy and gave her life to keep you alive. She wasn''t a medium, but she was a true warrior. She fought for her life until the end."


    "I don''t have any images of her¡­"


    "She was a kind woman. She cooked well and kept the house in complete order. But she had a strong temper too, she asked your father to marry her, hohoho."


    "That''s not really what I wanted to know, I guess."


    "You''re very fussy about details, you know that? Well, she was a young woman, in her early twenties when she got pregnant with Adisa. Fuhara came from the East Coast to work in Ilu Nla, ah! She liked bongo flava. Her father and she were a good contrast."


    Akachi tried to mentalize the image of his mother. It was the only thing he could do. He didn''t even have a photograph of her. He couldn''t remember her face. In his memories, he relived the days spent in the hospital, the examination rooms, the hopeless faces of the doctors, the condescending attitude of the nurses.


    Adisa''s face appeared blurred, shrouded in a persistent shadow. Only her eyes were visible. Hard eyes, almost as cold as those of a statue. The young medium couldn''t understand why. His grandfather''s face had become clear, and when he found it, he immediately related his grandfather''s features to his memories and Azekel.


    Even under those conditions, the relationship between father and son was not good. The father showed such blind concern for his son''s healing that he forgot to support him and pay attention to Akachi like a father. The boy wouldn''t forgive him. The tests and experimental treatments seemed like real torture sessions.


    The teenager clutched his knees. His body began to tremble. Azekel shook his shoulder lightly. The grandson looked up at him, and in a choked voice, asked his grandfather:


    "Grandpa, I don''t want to be alone anymore."


    "You''re not alone, not anymore."


    The two hugged. Akachi had his fears, and only the comfort of a family reunion could ease his suffering. In his memories, he lived surrounded by people, but he lived alone. Even his father, he saw almost every day, but he couldn''t see him. He didn''t feel like a son, but like a guinea pig. He wanted to find his father again and resolve the situation.


    "But that''s nice! Bunch of lazy males."


    Siffffffffff! An explosive fell from the sky and landed in the middle of the pair. Before it exploded, the pair broke free from the embrace and ran away. However, the firework sword burned out its entire wick and failed to detonate. It emitted a high-pitched whistle and gave off a small puff of smoke. The pair came out of cover. They looked up.


    On the zinc roof of a house, Spin Bomb was laughing. He threw his legs up in the air, put his hands on his belly and began to roll from one side of the roof to the other.


    Azekel and Akachi jumped off the roof, rolled up their sleeves. They both pointed at the girl at the same time and shouted menacingly:


    "YOU IDIOT! You almost scared us to death."


    "Gee, old man, you should have seen the look on your faces."


    "Start praying Spin Bomb, you''ll turn into an ancestor."


    "Not at all, Akachi, only if I don''t catch her first."


    "Wait, wait, wait a minute, you lot! You''ve been playing construction worker all morning and it was hard to find you here. This place is kind of big, you know? My master told me to bring you, Mashal has arrived. He''s brought news."


    Suddenly, Fenyang appeared between the two mediums. He had stayed away so that his grandson and grandfather could be close. At that moment, his intuition was stimulated by Spin Bomb''s words.


    Akachi stared at him and raised an eyebrow. Guardian Ori and the medium felt a strange sensation. A slight feeling of anguish was shared between them. Azekel didn''t seem to be indifferent to this feeling. Together with his grandson and the spirit, they followed the girl to the rebel camp''s command center.

 Song 112: Preparations

    Elevators are considered the safest means of transportation in the world. A little metal box that moves inside another box made of concrete and steel. In the elevator, after the door closes, light ambient music plays. It fills the space with calm, while your stomach feels a strange tickle. The aim is to make you forget that you''re sliding vertically from one floor to the next.


    However, even elevators need repairs. Maintenance teams are always welcome. It''s perhaps the only means of transportation that doesn''t frustrate people when it''s repaired. No one wants to be in an elevator with no brakes or electrical breakdowns.


    For this reason, the maintenance team was welcomed at the Court of Auditors of the Republic of Ilu Nla. Despite its name, the body does not belong to the judiciary and is not a court, but an auxiliary of the legislative branch. Its function is the external control of public administration, i.e. it oversees the financial movements of states and municipalities. It works like an autarchy, and in a decentralized way throughout the country.


    The civil servant who received them thought it was strange to have a team of only three employees. But she knew that routine maintenance was carried out by the service provider, without warning. She didn''t even bother to ask any more questions, she was too busy.


    He led the trio to the elevator pit in the basement parking lot. A pair of young employees put up the cones and activated the holographic ''Do not trespass - elevator under maintenance'' banners. The older worker entered the elevator.


    "Kindly lock all the doors on the floors corresponding to this elevator."


    "Oh, don''t worry, sir. That''s already been arranged."


    "Thank you, young lady. You''ve been very helpful."


    The man, his eyes hidden by his grimy cap, gave a grim smile. The woman couldn''t help but feel a chill. She turned around and headed back to her department to fill out the paperwork and answer the angry phone calls.


    Without saying a word to each other, the trio each took their place. The pair of young men guarded the doors to the elevator shaft and the elderly man entered alone with a huge backpack.


    "Are you sure you don''t want our help, boss?"


    "Don''t worry, kids, I''m worth ten, remember?"


    He activated the panel for the first floor. He inserted a master card and locked the elevator doors. The security cameras would see a pre-recorded looped video of him analyzing the inside of the elevator. Something too monotonous to attract the attention of building security. With some effort, he reached for the latch on the ceiling hatch.


    He opened his backpack and inside was a box made of dense lead-colored plastic. He opened the box and there were dozens of firework swords made by Spin Bomb. Each one had a zimba in high relief, the same shape on all the artifacts. In one of the compartments of the box, he took some epoxy putty adhesive.


    He put a handful of the gray paste in his hands and molded it enough to make it stick. He placed the putty on the elevator cables and glued the explosives in place. As he stood up, he felt a thud in his back. He put his hands on his hips, arched his back and muttered low.


    "You''re getting old, Mashal."


    On the opposite side and a few meters up, stood a man dressed in a terracotta-colored cloak. His arms were crossed. His body was emitting particles of Ax¨¦, which made the air around him very hot. His feet were firmly planted on a steel beam.


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    A drop of sweat trickled down the Old Medium''s temple. Despite the pain in his back, he nimbly grabbed the elevator cable. His vision seemed blurred and the place around him trembled. He kept his composure. He gave his best smile, unsure of how much reassurance he was transmitting to his enemy.


    "And you''re out of shape, Sage of the Law."


    The sage jumped onto the roof of the elevator, it swayed from the weight. The two began to balance their bodies in a desperate attempt to keep the elevator stable. The man, shorter than his rival, rolled up the cuff of his right arm, flexing the flabby muscles of his arm. Mashal showed no reaction.


    "What? What do you mean you''re not intimidated by all this?"


    "Stop it, Hakim."


    Damn, he just had to look like that! He''s the most dangerous, in my opinion. Ewansiha, you bastard, if you''re in there, you better wake up soon!


    Hakim stood in profile and began to walk slowly. He drew the Ax¨¦ into the palm of his hand and seemed to shape it, but not give it its final form. This increased the tension.


    The mediumistic profile of the Sage of the Law is ACRP. His use of Ax¨¦ is faster than mine. Propagating my Ax¨¦ in the environment and then Attracting the energetic force present in nature is a slow process until I concentrate everything and model it on my look-alikes¡­


    "Stop doing mental calculations, man. Have you lost faith in Fante Obatayie? After all, you already know the outcome."


    "I don''t think he came just to talk. The Circle of Sages lost that ability after Feruzi left and Yerodin died."


    Hakim stood facing Mashal. He was enraged. Then he calmed down. He wouldn''t fall for those provocations. It would attract the attention of the building''s security system, and the enemy would have a chance to escape in the confusion.


    "I thought it was clever of you to place this kind of explosive triggered by Scratch Point Magic. They can''t be traced, and they''re triggered from a distance. Congratulations!"


    Clap-clap, Hakim clapped his hands. His debauched smile irritated his opponent, but he didn''t dare start a fight. He wasn''t up to it. He was the leader of a revolution. He couldn''t afford to lose everything to someone he thought was just a na?ve young medium.


    "It''s going to be a beautiful party, you''re invited to take part as one of the infiltrators. We have a common enemy."


    "No way, old man! You can''t play at being an old-age urban guerrilla like you, my uncle. You''re just an idealist, too nostalgic to accept reality: you want to reform, to return to the past for the comfort of your privileges. For a long time, we denied the future. The Ekundayo leader woke us up to that."


    "This notion of the future among young idealists has always captivated me. It''s just action without a project. But tell me, since when did the Sage of Justice turn you into an errand boy?"


    "Hun, you''re funny, aren''t you, old man. Hahahaha, fuck off! Listen, we''re in possession of Adisa''s traitor. Bring the Spiritual Key of Faith to us. We''re at the ancient Judgement Stone."


    "What do you mean? We''re not with Akachi. Besides, I highly doubt you''re with Adisa."


    Hakim laughed. He was one step ahead of his opponent. He didn''t think it was a bluff by his comrade. Mashal knew nothing of the Circle of Sages'' actions. The Ilu Nla Armed Forces knew how to stop the bloodletting, they would leave the surprise for when interim president Ojwang returned from his diplomatic mission to Africa.


    Mashal wasn''t happy to hear that the wise men had gotten such an asset in their hands. Akachi was very attached to the idea of seeing his father again at all costs. The blackmail of his enemies was very likely to lead to impulsive action on the part of Azekel''s grandson. There was no doubt that Hakim had spoken the truth.


    "You were also undercover at the Grand Arena tournament."


    "BINGO! You''re a soothsayer, old man. We wanted to win the tournament and have an audience with General Luena of the Phalanx. She runs Ilu Nla''s espionage sector."


    "The only chance for the Shadow of the Republic to show itself. It wouldn''t be easy, but she''d be vulnerable against two or more. Akachi''s team and yours must have been in combat. That boy impresses me, he made a fool of you."


    "There''s nothing special about him. He''s just a sidekick. Dangerous is the undertaker who serves as a watchdog."


    "Even without Fadala, you''d never be a match for Nyatui."


    "Luena robbed me of that honor, but make no mistake, by facing us, his fate would be the same as facing the general."


    Mashal felt a chill run down his spine. Even his face changed. It contracted in pure ferocity.


    "Stop laughing, just say it, you bastard!"


    "He went from base, ''F'' in chat to Nyatui. My condolences, dear master of suspicion. Now I''m going to gas up and get out of here. Bring the boy, we want to reunite father and son one last time."


    "Wait! Come back here!"


    Just as he had appeared, Hakim disappeared at high speed. He laughed with a mixture of childishness and sadism.


    Mashal''s legs were shaking. He grabbed the elevator cables a second time. Nyatui was dead. He shed a silent tear. They were always fighting over ideals. Now he would never again argue with anyone about individualism and collectivism. He wiped away the stubborn tears. He went down the elevator.


    He feared leaving the current mission in the hands of two inexperienced young men, but the revolution needed a dose of voluntarism to succeed. Standing in front of the two young men, he gave them a quick briefing and some instructions. He would urgently return to the rebels'' HQ. Once again, he would be faced with two of the most difficult choices for a leader in the midst of battle: to advance or to retreat?

 Song 113: Abnegation

    Akachi walked with one hand resting on his chest. The Ax¨¦ emitted by the spiritual key was intense. The mystical object seemed to convey to the boy the uncertainty of the future. The young medium felt that something important was at stake. It was like walking through a dark tunnel without seeing the end.


    The Guardian Ori, who was connected to Azekel''s grandson, also felt his anguish. The spirit understood that Akachi''s path was full of battles. Fights he hadn''t asked to fight, nor had he even had time to prepare for them. The boy had come out of his paralyzed state to fight Ojwang. He had been separated from his family, with no time to enjoy his new condition.


    The group walked in silence to the headquarters of the Ilu Nla Liberation Movement command. Spin Bomb couldn''t stand it any longer and decided to speak up.


    "Mashal came back without the other two. He rushed in wanting to talk to you, Akachi."


    "Wait! Weren''t you the one who told Fadala and me you were here? There''s no way he could have known."


    "I don''t know that, but he already knew. Nobody told."


    They both entered the headquarters. The medium realized that Fadala was already there, standing on the left, behind Feruzi. His arms were crossed, one foot was against the wall, his head was down and he looked very concentrated. Mashal was sitting on cushions with Feruzi. They were both smoking pipes. In front of them was an induction cooktop. Coffee was boiling in the kettle.


    All the rebels were excused from the meeting. They would talk for a long time and in privacy.


    Akachi and Azekel greeted their hosts. The pair sat facing the ex-sages. Spin Bomb sat next to his albino master. Mashal had a friendly countenance, but his Ax¨¦ flow was disturbed, something imperceptible to ordinary people, but Azekel and his grandson could tell.


    Mashal ceremoniously picked up rustic-shaped cups made of white clay and poured generous doses of coffee into them with a copper ladle. The cups were distributed from right to left. The smell of caffeine rose and filled the room. Spin Bomb blew into his cup, the smoke spiraling quickly through the air.


    Feruzi raised an eyebrow, dismayed at the rudeness, and grumbled:


    "Is that manners?"


    "I''m sorry, but this Colombian here is very hot."


    "He''s not Colombian, he''s Ethiopian."


    Everyone turns to Fadala. He remains in his impassive sphinx statue posture. Spin Bomb narrowed his eyes and retorted ironically:


    "As well as being a hitman, you''re also a coffee sommelier?"


    Bong, Feruzi smacked the girl upside the head. The artisan dropped her cup on the floor and began to smooth her head to ease the pain.


    "Respect your elders, my dear apprentice."


    Akachi and Azekel kept their inquiring eyes on Mashal. The pair looked at each other. The young medium declared:


    "You''re preparing us for bad news."


    Mashal sighed. He sipped his cup and replied:


    "While you were trying to infiltrate the Grand Arena tournament, we were on the move. Feruzi trained Spin Bomb so that she could better protect herself, and in return, she taught us how to make firework swords. Which is proving very useful for us. Your grandfather Azekel has kept the leadership in the camp¡­"


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    Mashal paused again. That annoyed Akachi, he wanted the other to get to the point.


    "Go on, don''t make us anxious."


    "You''re right, I apologize. I won''t take up any more of your time. I was leading a sabotage group. We were installing homemade explosives in public buildings¡­"


    The ex-sage described his meeting with the Sage of the Law. Azekel was surprised that his son Adisa had been kidnapped. Akachi wasn''t surprised; he seemed enraged by the medium. The Circle of Sages were acting cowardly. They used his father to take back the Spiritual Key of Faith. But not just anyone could use it.


    Spiritual keys were linked to the sage''s ancestry. To use one of them, you had to be in the blood and spiritual line of those who had gone before you. A sage could not use two or more spiritual keys at the same time. He didn''t understand what they would do with the Spiritual Key of Faith.


    "What will they do with my key if they get their hands on it?"


    "They believe they are the last line of defense against Ojwang. They want to get possession of all the keys to prevent our enemy from using them."


    Fadala noticed that Ojwang had a great interest in the spirit keys. However, he wasn''t a medium. He couldn''t use them.


    "Is there any possibility that the acting president has found some method of using the spirit keys for his own benefit, Mr. Mashal?"


    "Yes, but we can''t identify the method. Perhaps Adisa could help us. He was the chief scientist in the service of General Jitujeusi."


    "Don''t blame my father!"


    "I''m not blaming anyone, young man. That''s a fact. Many of the weapons that killed my people were designed by Adisa''s hands. He is an accomplice and a victim of the circumstances in equal measure."


    Akachi emitted Ax¨¦ so intensely and uncontrollably that the whole environment around him heaved. Azekel put a hand on his forearm and calmed him down. He couldn''t allow despair at that moment.


    "It''s a low blow to use my son as a bargaining chip. He needs to be rescued."


    Fadala uncrossed his arms. He walked two steps forward and lit a cigarette. He picked up a clay cup and handed it to Mashal, who promptly poured himself some coffee. He sipped the bitter drink and reflected cautiously.


    "This all smells like a trap. Is there any real guarantee that Akachi''s father is with them? How could the Phalanx let its greatest scientist escape like this? How did a member of the Circle of Sages find you?"


    "Well, Fadala, I don''t doubt that the Circle of Sages is with Adisa. The sage Hakim was the messenger, he''s a bold and annoying medium, but too sincere to resort to lies. Ojwang and his watchdog Jitujeusi are on a diplomatic mission abroad, the Armed Forces wouldn''t alert them at a time like this. The other generals must be in confrontation. Our sources tell us that Gahiji and Jitujeusi are in conflict. About Hakim meeting me, well, it''s an old suspicion, but I think our most important source is a double agent, maybe a triple agent."


    Feruzi hissed for the other to shut up. An experienced gambler doesn''t want to reveal all his cards.


    "We need to rescue my father."


    "Absolutely, Akachi. But we need a plan of action."


    "You have an army here, Mr. Feruzi. We can''t waste any time."


    "They''re not mediums like you and me, young man. They won''t stand a chance against the Circle of Sages. We''ll be wasting lives for nothing. You, Mashal and I are not enough to handle the five sages. Fadala, this isn''t your battle, don''t feel obliged to come with us. Spin Bomb, you''re not ready yet."


    Fadala removed a pistol from its holster and showed it to those present in a gesture of good faith.


    "Don''t worry, my pistols will be at your service in this battle."


    Spin Bomb stood up and waved his arms. He slammed a closed fist into his other palm. He winked at Akachi.


    "Hey, what''s this about me not being ready? I''ll go anyway!"


    "Great, we''ve already got six with Grandpa Azekel."


    On hearing the proposal, the old man turned his face away, embarrassed. He looked ashamed. Akachi put a hand on his grandfather''s shoulder to comfort him. The man removed his grandson''s hand and plunged his face into his hands. The grandson understood nothing of this reaction.


    "Grandpa, what''s going on?"


    "I¡­ snif, I won''t¡­ snif-snif."


    "Why not? My father is at risk, he''s your son, remember? What do you mean you''re not going?"


    Feruzi let out a long sigh. It was time Akachi knew a few things about his grandfather and father.


    "It''s not that he doesn''t want to, he can''t. He shouldn''t, in my opinion."


    Everyone turned to Feruzi. Mashal nodded. That made Akachi frustrated. He couldn''t accept that his grandfather was the only one to be cowed. No matter how many differences Azekel and Adisa had in the past, they were still father and son. When they met again, there would be time for forgiveness.


    "I don''t understand. In fact, I can''t accept it. My grandfather and I were supposed to fight together to save my father."


    "Akachi¡­"


    "No, old friend, let me explain."


    Feruzi raised a finger and pointed to the Spiritual Key of Faith on Akachi''s chest.


    "Your grandfather refused the key for the sake of his son, who refused the key for the sake of science in order to save you. This had consequences. Azekel lost his mediumistic abilities because the key was rejected twice. The power of the ancestors contained in it punished him. If he goes with us, he''ll be an easy target. His grandfather made that sacrifice to save his life."


    Akachi''s eyes bulged. A sepulchral silence fell over the room. Spin Bomb rolled her eyes, embarrassed by her own mistrust. Fadala, for his part, lowered his eyes. An honest man had been judged too hastily.

 Song 114: Arrive like a gale and leave like lightning

    Akachi found it difficult to understand what he was feeling at that moment. He had been unfair to his grandfather. Azekel hadn''t been silent, he had been insensitive. He rose from the ground. He held out a hand to the old man. The man wiped away his tears and stood up too. They gave each other a big hug.


    Azekel placed his hands gently on his grandson''s face. His voice was still hoarse. He found it difficult to express his feelings. He wanted to go with his grandson to rescue his own son, but without his mediumship, it would be a burden.


    "Forgive me for not going with you, I no longer have my powers."


    Akachi took his grandfather''s hands and placed them on his chest. The Spiritual Key of Faith emitted an intense glow.


    "I''m the one who apologizes. You gave up your position as a sage so that the spiritual key could be used to treat me. My father sacrificed even more, he was even considered a traitor by the mediums. It''s time to do justice to all that effort."


    Feruzi nodded. Mashal offered his grandson and grandfather more coffee. Spin Bomb raised both arms and shouted:


    "That''s it! Now it''s time to go after the Circle of Sages and kick their asses."


    Everyone laughed. Only one person didn''t seem to be keeping up with all the excitement, the gunman from Il¨º Apanyan. The five sages were too powerful. They held the spiritual keys and the extent of their powers was unknown to him. Spin Bomb had trained, but the undertaker didn''t know what the training was. He doubted that a layperson could learn any martial art in such a short space of time.


    Akachi was an unknown. He possessed the Spiritual Key of Faith, he had achieved an evolution, but he didn''t control all of its power. By going to the enemy lair, he could hand over another spiritual key to the sages. The last key''s whereabouts were uncertain, but he assumed it was already in Ojwang''s possession.


    "Calm down, let''s get ready. It''s a rescue mission, but there won''t be any options to comply with our enemies. We''ll have to kill them all if we have to. Those of you who are going, do you know the price you''re willing to pay?"


    Azekel saw a harsh reality in those words, and the former Sages were not willing to accept it. The current Circle of Sages were the young people he, Nyatui, Mashal and Feruzi had once pinned their hopes on. A second generation of mediums eager for change, bold in their actions.


    Akachi bowed his head. He didn''t consider the sages to be his enemies, but at the same time, he didn''t see them as allies. The real person to fight was interim president Ojwang. He had turned Ilu Nla upside down. A man with no scruples, interested only in gaining power.


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    Spin Bomb felt a chill in his stomach. He tried to show confidence, but deep down he feared what would happen. He wouldn''t back down, whether it was against the Circle of Sages or Ojwang''s Cyber Troop. He understood that only a joint effort would rid the country of the interim president. Nothing would ever be the same again, but it would be much better than it was.


    Fadala straightened his glasses and, in a deep voice, asked the pair of mediums sitting on the cushions:


    "What terrain are we going to face? What are the abilities of our enemies? We need to draw up a master plan and a backup plan."


    After a fit of coughing, Feruzi moved the cup away from his parched lips and answered his question:


    "Yes, preparation is the mother of all strategies. You must have already been dazzled by the skills of the sages Jabir, Nkechi and Durojaiye. But their power is no match for Ekundayo, the Sage of Justice and leader of the group, and Hakim, the Sage of the Law and his right-hand man."


    Fadala felt a slight tremor. He had formulated one-on-one confrontations; it wouldn''t be sage to face all the sages together. They would be much better matched than the undertaker and his group.


    "We will only succeed if we face each of the sages separately."


    Mashal reasoned about the proposal. He put the white clay cup down on the tray and asked:


    "Should this be possible, which I very much doubt, who should face whom?"


    "Leave the sage Jabir with Akachi, the two of them have had a first fight and need to decide the outcome. As for Durojaiye, she''ll be your responsibility, Spin Bomb."


    Feruzi closed his eyes and shook his head. He was dissatisfied with Fadala''s proposal.


    "I don''t approve of that decision. Besides, your techniques could provide good support against the other sages."


    Spin Bomb got up from the floor and noisily started arguing with his master. He began to pinch her cheeks, distorting her face, while simultaneously telling her to obey him. She pulled at his gray hair, making his head tilt from side to side.


    Finally, tired of the little wrestling match. Gasping, she said self-confidently:


    "You''re not coming, old man! I didn''t train all this time to be an extra. We need to rescue Akachi''s father, I''m going with you, and don''t try to stop me."


    Student and master stared at each other in fury. Neither would give in. They crossed their arms and turned their backs on each other.


    Fadala took advantage of the end of the discussion and continued to describe his plans.


    "As for Nkechi, leave her to me."


    Mashal laughed loudly. In a single meeting with the sage men, Fadala had already drawn up a plan of attack. What worried the master of suspicion was underestimating the power of his opponents.


    "Did you know that Nkechi reached the position of sage without knowing any Of¨®?"


    "Yes, she made a point of telling us that."


    "Don''t confuse trust with recklessness, undertaker."


    "I won''t. Now tell us everything we need to do."


    Mashal and Feruzi looked at each other and described where the Judgement Stone was. Fadala seemed to be taking mental notes of everything. What worried him most was the description of the abilities of the two remaining sages. They were not enemies to be faced alone, they required a group effort.


    The hitman raised the possibility that the sage men were putting Adisa''s life at risk. Feruzi wasn''t unaware of this possibility, but he dismissed it. He ignored how far the Circle of Sages would go for their goals. He was clinging to the old images that hung over the sages.


    Mashal was less idealistic, and believed that Adisa was at risk of death in the venture. But he didn''t want to spoil young Akachi''s dream of finding his father again. Together with the others, he devised the rescue plan. Azekel would stay and have the task of keeping the rebel camp in order. In the morning, the other five would go to the Judgement Stone to rescue Adisa from the Circle of Sages.

 Song 115: The Stone of Judgment

    Ilu Nla dawned in cold weather. The atmosphere was gloomy and uninviting. Six people had woken up early in the rebel camp. They made their way slowly to the wall. At one part of it, Akachi felt a cool breeze blowing across part of the wall. He hugged his abdomen and straightened his shoulders.


    Spin Bomb smiled, nudged his friend and pointed to some holographic projectors fixed to the wall. That part had been broken to evacuate everyone in the event of an emergency. To avoid attracting attention, they had covered it with a hologram.


    Akachi, Spin Bomb, Fadala, Feruzi and Mashal stood next to the hologram. Azekel stood in front of his grandson. There were a few seconds of complete silence, until the young medium and his grandfather ran towards each other and embraced fraternally. The ex-Sage of the Faith wanted very much to go with them and rescue his son Adisa, but he no longer had the strength of a medium.


    Seeing the scene, Feruzi and Mashal laughed. Spin Bomb grew impatient with the drama. She rolled her eyes, and just as she was about to say something, her master gave her a look that froze her in place.


    "Akachi, take care, bring your father back to us."


    "It''s okay, Grandpa. Our family won''t be separated anymore."


    The old man went over to his old companions and hugged them with a request:


    "Mashal, take care of my grandson. Otherwise, I''d better not go back to camp."


    "Whoever is with me is with Fante Obataiye."


    Together with Feruzi, he wished the rescue party success.


    "May your plan work, my friend, you''re the most ingenious person I know."


    "I hope so, my friend."


    The others greeted Azekel and advanced along the false wall. They were heading south, away from the Burned Circuit Complex of slums to the Stone of Judgment.


    ?


    Its construction dates back to the antiquity of Ilu Nla. The Stone of Judgment was built on a rocky mountain in the southeast of the kingdom. Around it, a long spiral staircase was carved from the base to the top.


    When a subject of Ilu Nla committed a heinous crime, he was bound in shackles and forced to walk up the seven-story staircase to the top. The aim was to make the defendant reflect on the seven virtues he had transgressed. So that he wouldn''t try to claim death before his trial or be attacked by the avenger of blood, he was escorted by four scouts. At the top, in front of an amphitheater packed with members of the community, he was judged by them.


    If the community unanimously acquitted him, he was released, and there was no criminal stain on his honor. However, if a single member of the popular assembly wanted to punish him, he was executed.


    The Judgement Stone was only used for a short time. The judicial system of Ilu Nla''s reign was perfected. But the site was kept as a reminder, a heritage of the power of justice.


    In the center of the amphitheatre, as in the days of the first justice, was Adisa, chained to two columns by his feet and hands with chains fashioned from Ax¨¦. He looked tired, his head hanging down.


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    In the stands, facing the prisoner, was the Circle of Sages. The Sage of Justice, Ekundayo, was sitting, his body bent forward and his elbows on his knees. He was calm, with a thoughtful countenance. Next to him, lying down with his head supported by one hand, was Hakim. He was twisting a piece of straw in the corner of his mouth. He smiled, looking pleased with his advantage.


    Jabir was standing a few seats up. His eyes were closed and his arms were crossed. He was trying to control his anxiety about the battle. He wanted another confrontation with Akachi. He felt humiliated that a medium like him had managed to land a blow on him.


    Durojaiye, the Sage of the Generation was on Ekundayo''s left. Cross-legged, she was filing her fingernails. They were well groomed for someone who lived in such anonymous conditions. She was too focused on her work to notice what was happening around her.


    Nkechi, the Sage of Evolution was right behind Hakim. She was sitting with her legs open, the weight of her body resting on her elbows. Her head was thrown back. She gazed at the clouds-tinged pink by the sunlight. I had the feeling it was going to rain.


    Ekundayo stood up straight. He put his hands together in the shape of a pyramid and raised his chin. All eyes turned to him.


    "Ten people are approaching the Stone of Judgment."


    Hakim jumped up. He clapped his hands happily. He was having fun with the situation.


    "Ten? What an army, huh? Who did Mashal bring with him, the Salvation Army?"


    "No, Hakim, you don''t understand. There are ten people, all with a strong Ax¨¦ emission. And they all possess the same Ax¨¦ of the Spiritual Key of Faith."


    All the sages surrounded the leader, but he said nothing more. At the same time, they held their chins with their clawed hands and pondered what this could be. Hakim thought that Akachi didn''t have the skills to do such a thing. Sharing the Ax¨¦ through a Pass was not easy. It required intense control.


    "Assuming your analysis is right, Ekundayo¡­"


    "It is, Sage Hakim. Remember that next to Adisa''s son are three ancient sages. Feruzi is an old jackal."


    "Okay. Assuming that Feruzi used his Scratched Dot Magic to make Akachi pass everyone in the group to share his Ax¨¦, the other five unexpected people must be copies created by Mashal''s Of¨®."


    Jabir thought it was a clever tactic. A complex combination of different Of¨®. He never imagined that Akachi would manage such a feat.


    "They''re looking for a numerical advantage¡­"


    "No, Sage of Force, they knew we wouldn''t attack in a one-on-one battle. They''re creating confusion so that we don''t capture Akachi."


    From the columns, Adisa began to smile. He had a coughing fit and spat. Although he was proud of his son, he hadn''t imagined that he would go so far as to deceive the Circle of Sages like that.


    Ekundayo stood up and leapt close to Adisa. He gripped the scientist''s chin tightly and asked:


    "Won''t it be funny when your son sees his father die."


    "Coward! Let go of me."


    "Hakim, we can fool them too. Nkechi, we''ll need your plasma mist."


    Nkechi confirmed with a nod and a smile. Hakim smoothed the back of his neck and grimaced.


    "Ah, damn, see! Looks like the Sage of the Law will have to take action in the very first scene of the movie."


    "Well done! Nkechi, Hakim and Durojaiye, Jabir will stay here with me."


    The Force Sage protested as much as he could, but the leader was resolute in his decisions. While the others went off to fight, the old medium sulked in a corner. His veins were popping out of his temples.


    ?


    An armored military vehicle was approaching Judgement Stone. When it reached a kilometer away, it switched off its engines. Inside was a team from the Ilu Nla Intelligence Sector, under the command of General Luena.


    She stepped out of the cockpit and closed the door behind her. In front of her, standing at attention, were her Falangettes. They were all women. They were wearing ergonomically shaped tactical armor. They were similar to Luena''s armor, but less aerodynamic than hers, with a lower level of armor and built-in weapons. However, they had the same noise suppression system and camouflage as the general.


    It was almost impossible to tell one soldier from another. Their faces were hidden by helmets and dark visors. This was done on purpose to confuse the enemy. They didn''t answer to their names, but to the codenames Nebula 1, 2, 3 and 4. Only Luena could tell one from the other by the subtleties.


    "Permission to rest, sir."


    "Permission granted, Ghost Troop. My Nebulas, today''s mission will take place in two stages and in collaboration with General Gahiji and his men."


    General Luena went over the plan. The Nebulas would enter the conflict zone between Akachi''s group and the Circle of Sages. They had orders not to interfere. Their aim would be to kill the bearers of the Spiritual Keys after one of them had been defeated or had become vulnerable. After collecting the key and placing it in a special container, they would return. Under no circumstances should they fight their enemies and reveal themselves to them.


    "Remember, Ghost Troop, you are the blades that hide in the shadow of Ilu Nla. Act quickly and effectively. Kill the sages and bring their Spiritual Keys to me."


    "Yes, sir."


    They gave a final, loud salute, clicking their heels. The back of the vehicle opened. The Nebulas lowered the emission level of their armor''s Ax¨¦ Cores to below capitation, activated their camouflages and flew off with their electromagnetic thrusters towards the Judgement Stone.

 Song 116: Family reunion - Part 1

    Spin Bomb had a strange feeling about running side by side with a copy of himself. It was like those Nordic legends about the doppelg?nger. A walking replica that came to bring bad news. I wanted to believe otherwise. From the start, the plan devised by the elders had sounded absurd to his ears. It was like a NeTV prank.


    Judgement Stone was a deserted place. All that surrounded it was a barren sea, with islands of small stones here and there. It looked fragile, but ideal for leaving traps along the way. In cases like this, the defender had the advantage of knowing the terrain and being prepared for the not-so-subtle enemy.


    The formation line of Akachi''s group followed a double column. At the spearhead came a pair of Mashal. Then two Spin Bombs, then his master Feruzi, Akachi and finally Fadala. It was impossible to tell the real thing from its copy. She thought that Fadala, as a sniper, could handle protecting his friend Akachi.


    Before they could get around the staircase to the second floor, the plasma mist began to rise from the ground. It became denser and denser, and it was difficult to see an inch in front of their noses. There was no time to lose, they continued running up the stairs until Nkechi''s cynical laughter began to echo in the air. Mashal signaled for them to stop.


    ¡°Damn it! I can''t see the path anymore.¡±


    ¡°It''s no use, your path ends here.¡±


    In the distance, a few steps up, came a dozen Nkechi and Durojaiye. The posture of the sage women showed self-confidence.


    Feruzi noticed that Jabir was not with them. That didn''t mean there was another sage hiding.


    ¡°Fadala!¡±


    ¡°Leave it to me.¡±


    The pair of morticians leapt into the air and aimed their pistols at their opponents. But before they could fire, a rapid sequence of action took place.


    ¡°Minor Force Statute!¡±


    From the rock wall, an implosion occurred. Shards of stone were thrown in all directions. A wave of heat filled the atmosphere. Everyone raised their arms to protect their faces. The dust subsided. The scene was terrifying. The Sage of the Law had hit the Fadala duo in mid-air. His arms had pierced the gunman''s chest.


    His hands pulsed with a mass of yellowish energy, which shot out electrical discharges.


    ¡°Looks like I caught a big fish, huh?¡±


    ¡°Actually, it was you who was caught.¡±


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    Mashal motioned with his hands, and the two Fadala began to crack like a piece of pottery. They began to crumble in the air. Inside, there were several handmade bombs made by Spin Bomb. Each one bore a seal of Striped Point Magic. Hakim still had time to look at the artisan.


    She snapped her fingers in silence. But he could read on her lips ''Boooooom''. The magical symbols glowed with intensity. They exploded at point-blank range over Hakim. His body, surrounded by flames, fell to the ground. He smashed into a rock far away from the Judgement Stone.


    In the distraction caused by the explosion, the zimba that had modified the appearance of the real Fadala was extinguished by Feruzi. He had disguised himself as a copy of Mashal. Right in front of the enemy, he had no difficulty in drawing his pistols and firing at Nkechi. One of the shots hit her in the stomach.


    ¡°Compact Serpent Scales.¡±


    The other shots hit Durojaiye, who had coated his body with his Ax¨¦ scales. The purple plasma mist cooled with the attack.


    The real Akachi, Mashal, Feruzi and Spin Bomb jumped over their opponents and managed to escape. The Sage of Evolution was furious. Their opponents had tricked them.


    ¡°Friend, go, I''ll kill the undertaker.¡±


    ¡°Wait, Nkechi. I don''t know why, but your plasma mist doesn''t work on him. That assassin managed to hit you without flinching. My defense can handle his bullets.¡±


    ¡°Damn it, I''m going to get that little bastard. I''ll slaughter him in front of his own father.¡±


    With his hand on the bullet wound, Nkechi climbed the stairs and left Durojaiye behind. The androgynous-looking Sage saw all the plasma mist accompany the other up the stairs. A wind whistled sharply between Fadala and the sage in front of her.


    These shaped Ax¨¦ plates are harder than my projectiles. They won''t be able to pierce through. In a melee attack, it can modify its structure to make it padded to absorb the impact.


    ¡°You look worried. A handsome man like you can get expression marks, uhuhuhuhu.¡±


    Durojaiye took an affected pose like a ballerina and laughed loudly with one hand in front of her mouth.


    Fadala grimaced in disgust. The smile was feminine, but the voice was too deep. It sounded like a record scratched by a budding DJ.


    ¡°Sorry, you''re not my type.¡±


    ¡°How rude! That''s no way to treat a lady.¡±


    Before the mortician could shoot the sage. She ran at speed towards him and punched him in the kidney. The Il¨º Apanyan member was thrown against the rock wall. His body created a crater.


    He reasoned that her Of¨® was like armor that granted physical enhancement. Her speed had increased considerably, as had her left jab. She tried to grab him by the scruff of the neck, but he used his pistol shots to throw himself to the left and escape the deadly grip.


    ¡°You don''t look like much of a threat, sugar.¡±


    ¡°I was just warming up.¡±


    Fadala pulled out a firework sword and threw it in her opponent''s direction. She dodged, but noticed that the bomb had no fuse.


    A distraction!


    Fadala hit his enemy with a kick that hit her under the chin. Despite the weight of the armor, he managed to lift her off the ground. Fadala fired a few ricocheting shots, which hit the fire sword. The explosive changed its trajectory, swirled in the air and came into line with Durojaiye.


    What are you trying to do?


    Before she could realize it, Durojaiye was hit squarely in the shoulder with a double pistol butt. At that moment, she understood what her opponent was trying to do. Fadala was trying to hit her joints. The rigidity of the Compact Serpent Scale would not allow her to absorb the impact in that area.


    ¡°Flexible Serpent Scales.¡±


    Durojaiye caused his armor to inflate like a balloon. The mortician was thrown a distance. But before he hit the ground, he fired at the firework sword falling on his opponent. Scablunnnng! There was a huge explosion. Durojaiye turned into a ball of red flames bouncing up the stairs.


    The gunman tried hard to get up. He leaned one hand on the wall. He felt a pain in his pelvis. It was his kidneys complaining about the consequences of battle. He felt the muscles in the area vibrate. On his feet, limping and struggling to breathe, the mortician tried to maintain his posture, but the pain from Durojaiye''s blow reminded him to slow down. He walked, leaning on the rock. Raising his head, he heard a strange sound coming from the floors above.


    ¡°I have the impression that this isn''t over¡­¡±

 Song 117: Family reunion - Part 2

    While Akachi''s group was invading the Judgement Stone, General Luena''s Falangettes were advancing. Nebula No. 4 kept its distance from the infiltration site. It watched the initial combat between the mediums unfold, until a large flaming mass flew towards it. It retreated with speed, leaving a crack in the sand. The burning mass hit a huge rock.


    From the middle of the flames, Hakim stood up. With his fingertips, he extinguished an insistent flame that stubbornly burned the tunic on his left shoulder. He lifted the hem of his cloak as if it were a skirt and shook off the rock debris stuck to his clothes. He twisted his neck.   He muttered a few words between his teeth. He groped his body weakly.


    ¡°What the fuck! I get a little distracted and I''m blown up. My back hurts. Damn! I''m not that old.¡±


    The soldier couldn''t believe it. A wise man had been caught unawares in a trap as vulgar as that?


    Perhaps the Phalanx had exaggerated the capabilities of our enemies.


    Seeing the Sage of the Law twisting his limbs and gasping, he became self-confident. She had been ordered not to interfere in the fighting, but she was not prevented from taking advantage of an opportunity like that. She would strike him in the back, with fulmination. A clean kill, with no room for a counter-attack.


    The blades slid silently out of the handles. It would sever Hakim''s head. He leapt at him, with the camouflage system still active.


    ¡°Gravitational Constitution!¡±


    Nebula No. 4 executed the attack, but there was another ten meters between it and Hakim. He saw the world like the fish-eye effect of a digital camera. Everything seemed distorted, she felt nauseous. Her sense of space was so shaken that she could no longer understand her own movements. She groped around in confusion.


    ¡°What have you done to me, you bastard?¡±


    ¡°I''ve curved the space-time between you and me. I can push away and bring closer to me whoever or whatever I want.¡±


    The voices sounded like echoes inside a cave. Hakim was still on his back with his hands clasped in front of him. He was not worried about being attacked from behind. He turned to his opponent.


    ¡°Stop that!¡±


    ¡°Right away, sir.¡±


    Tunp! The sage clapped his hands. It was as if the physical-chemical nature of reality was coming back into place. The phalanx felt the slingshot effect of time-space returning to its place of origin. It was as if his body had received a collision. The energy accumulated in his body was released all at once, bursting his internal organs. His cybertech-reinforced bones broke. A metallic sound rang through the air.


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    The woman struggled on the ground. She no longer had the strength to fight. The internal structure of her body was in pieces. Only death could lessen her suffering. However, the last remnant of life inside her still resisted, a vain hope. Her epileptic body and nosebleeds didn''t stop her from begging for life.


    ¡°Please, no¡­ I don''t want to die¡­ no¡­¡±


    ¡°You Ilu Nla Cyber Troop, always opportunistic. I bet you created this perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. You picked the wrong day! I''ll give your bitch superior a little warning.¡±


    Nebula No. 4 was still on the ground. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn''t move a muscle. Her body wouldn''t obey her. A high-pitched noise rose in the air. She screamed, but couldn''t hear her own voice. In Hakim''s hands, he saw a mass of energy accumulate, grow and spin like a massive, unstable sphere.


    The radiation emitted by the energy sphere shot out sparks like a small star. A tear trickled down the corner of her cheek. The soldier would know that after receiving that blow, not even her remains would be found. Hakim struck her body with the sphere. The sphere swirled and eroded his entire body.


    Molecule by molecule, it spiraled through the air. After the explosion, only Hakim was left in the middle of a huge dark crater. It was as if an asteroid had fallen in the area. A curtain of radioactive smoke rose into the sky. The sage waved his cloak and walked towards the Stone of Judgement.


    ?


    In the armored vehicle, the auxiliary team from Ilu Nla''s Military Intelligence Service were observing the approach of Nebulas 1, 2, 3 and 4. However, a huge explosion occurred near the Judgement Stone. It was so big that the armored vehicle toppled over on its side. The equipment suffered major interference. The communicators exploded in a high-pitched squeal.


    General Luena was frightened. She couldn''t understand what had happened. She got up from the floor. He ordered his men to pull themselves together. It took a while for the equipment to start working again. They had received a small electromagnetic pulse. Once the systems had restarted, she asked for the coordinates of the situation.


    One of the soldiers wiped the sweat dripping from his forehead. He searched the signal of the members of the Ghost Troop. The monitor showed only three of them.


    ¡°Where''s Nebula No. 4, officer?¡±


    ¡°Excuse me, sir. The signal from Nebula No. 4 is no longer being picked up by our devices. It may be an error¡­¡±


    ¡°An error? Fix it immediately!¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    The operators, using the armored vehicle rehabilitation system, managed to restore the electromagnetic thrusters. The armored vehicle was turned around. The soldiers felt the rattle of it returning to horizontal with its eight pairs of tires on the ground.


    Luena became impatient. She pushed the soldier aside. She scanned the signal herself.


    ¡°None of her! How is that possible? There''s not even a signal from the black box on my soldier''s armor.¡±


    ¡°It could be residual interference from¡­¡±


    ¡°Shut up, officer. I want satellite images of the explosion site.¡±


    The officer requested images from Ilu Nla''s geostationary satellite. The image zoomed in, frame by frame, until the huge dark crater with crackling embers was visible. A small curtain of dust was still swirling in the air.


    The dust settled. In the center of the crater stood Hakim. He twisted his arms and neck repeatedly. Then he looked up at the sky and gave a small smile. The soldiers moved their bodies back. It was as if the sage was looking at them. The medium turned his face to the horizon and started walking towards the old judicial building.


    ¡°There are high levels of radiation in the atmosphere. If our readings are correct, it''s as if a small sun has landed there. Sir, what kind of monsters are we facing?¡±


    The military officer didn''t need an answer. Her hand clenched on the back of his seat. The officer was grateful she hadn''t grabbed his shoulder. Nebula No. 4 had been disintegrated with a single attack, so not a scrap of it survived. Not even her Ax¨¦-Core.


    ¡°Warn the remaining members of the Ghost Troop: under no circumstances attack the Sage of the Law.¡±

 Song 118: Family reunion - Part 3

    Akachi was running towards the third lap of the Judgement Stone. He felt he couldn''t waste any more time, his father Adisa was in danger. The Circle of Sages didn''t seem to be playing with threats. He didn''t want to pay to see.


    Feruzi and Mashal were happy. The distraction plan had worked, up to a point. At least they had taken Hakim out of the game. They considered him the most dangerous sage. Nkechi wasn''t a serious threat, they had left the three remaining copies created by Mashal behind. It was a way of keeping their distance from the enemy. Her plasma mist was a problem if it hit them.


    The Sage of Evolution was on the trail of the invaders. She felt ridiculed by their infiltration strategy. Although plasma mist was very useful in combat, it wasn''t applicable in all contexts. Even with her physical abilities, she couldn''t handle four enemies at once. He needed to slow them down.


    "I didn''t know cowardice helped people run so fast."


    The result was different to what Nkechi had predicted. She was ignored by the fugitives. But both she and Akachi and their group had to stop running and watch the spectacle of Hakim''s explosion.


    A cloud of Ax¨¦ particles caused everyone to be thrown into the rock wall. Mashal''s copies suffered an electromagnetic discharge and were disintegrated.


    Nkechi put both arms to his face in a gesture of self-protection. He concentrated a mass of Ax¨¦ on the soles of his feet to anchor himself to the ground.


    "Damn it, Hakim! Did you have to use the Four Fundamental Forces out of the blue?"


    Or maybe he''s sending us a warning¡­ possible intruders at our reception.


    As she turned to Akachi and the others, they had already taken their distance from her.


    "Hey, wait, don''t run away¡­"


    Ignored once again, the veins exploded at her temples. Nkechi snorted. She ran up the stairs to take revenge for the affront.


    ?


    The explosion generated by Hakim made the top of the Stone of Judgment tremble. Ekundayo looked away from Adisa. His hands shook, then he closed his fists tightly. It wasn''t just a show of strength. Hakim was vain, not stupid.


    Jabir gritted his teeth. He jumped down from the stands and came to talk to the leader, he was angry.


    "What does he think he''s doing showing off like that? This is no time for jokes, Ekundayo."


    "For him to use Of¨® like that, old Jabir, it''s because he''s found a powerful enemy. From a distance, someone unexpected."


    Adisa began to laugh, more out of desperation than for any real reason.


    "I knew it, the Phalanx wouldn''t just let me go. I think you''ve been had, gurfh!"


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    The old medium punched Adisa right in the stomach. The scientist squirmed, fell to his knees, but didn''t stop laughing. On the contrary, his laughter grew louder.


    Jabir spat in his face with utter contempt.


    "Shut up, traitor! You seem happy to be back in captivity. It''s common for dogs to want to wag their tails at their owners when they smell them."


    He raised his fist a second time to silence the prisoner''s cynicism, but Ekundayo grabbed his forearm tightly.


    "Stop it, Jabir! I didn''t authorize any assault on him. Azekel''s son is worth more alive than dead."


    "I don''t remember swearing allegiance to you, Ekundayo. My commitment is to our cause."


    "I am your leader."


    "If you were zealous about the precepts of ancestry, you would leave the leadership to me, the eldest."


    "I won the leadership of the Circle of Sages a long time ago."


    "No, Hakim only gave it up out of laziness and let you take over."


    The two mediums looked at each other. Jabir, attached to the conservatism of Ilu Nla''s age hierarchies, had never swallowed the fact that someone younger than him was leading the Circle of Sages. Despite his strength, he was no match for Ekundayo, and none of the sages came close to Hakim''s power. This fueled his resentment even more.


    The Sage of Justice didn''t like Jabir''s insolence. It was the thing that most put his leadership in check. However, no one else was more eager for the post than Jabir. The old medium had no supporters. Ekundayo himself recognized that in terms of experience, Jabir could be the leader, in terms of power, his friend Hakim, but in terms of vision of the future, the mission of leading them would fall to him.


    Unlike Jabir, who wanted a reform, that is, a change towards the past, Ekundayo wanted a revolution. Not a utopian one like Mashal''s with his idealism, but one in which the mediums could direct the destiny of Ilu Nla. No puppet monarchy, no false government, no foreign interference in internal affairs.


    The Sage of Force walked towards them. He walked past Ekundayo as if he couldn''t see him.


    "I''m tired of seeing you make the same mistakes."


    "Where are you going, old Jabir?"


    "I have to take care of something."


    "If you want to go, I won''t stop you."


    "As if you could stop me from doing whatever I wanted, young man."


    Jabir jumped from the top to the stairs below. Ekundayo let all the air escape from his lungs.


    "It seems that the Circle of Sages isn''t very cohesive."


    Ekundayo didn''t respond to Adisa''s provocation, he was preoccupied with other matters.


    ?


    The quartet of invaders had moved swiftly up the stairs. They were already on the fourth turn of the spiral staircase. Suddenly, they stopped running. Right in front of them stood Jabir, his arms crossed and his posture defiant. When he saw Adisa''s son, he pointed a finger in the young medium''s direction.


    Mashal and Feruzi stepped in front of Akachi. To their surprise, Akachi stepped forward and pulled out the two tungsten rods.


    "Fenyang¡­"


    I''m here, brou.


    The masters of suspicion looked at each other. They didn''t have good expectations of this meeting.


    "Are you sure, Akachi? It''s the Sage of Force."


    "It would be nice if the three of us sent him a souvenir from Nyatui."


    "No, this is my fight. Go, and take Spin Bomb with you."


    Jabir took a step down the stairs. His foot caught on the stone step and it seemed to give way on his boot.


    "You didn''t hear what the kid said. We have a score to settle. Besides, you already have enough to worry about."


    He nodded to Nkechi, who advanced against the others. Feruzi, Mashal and Spin Bomb made another escape up the stairs.


    Jabir''s face showed intense disgust as Feruzi and Mashal passed him. He had great contempt for the old mediums. He never forgave them for leaving Ilu Nla, giving up fighting when he could have stayed and helped the Circle of Sages.


    "Cowards!"


    "Pay no attention to them, sage Jabir. Your fight will be with me. Firm spirit!"


    Akachi''s Ori Guardian overlapped with his body, until the two became one. With an echoing voice, he stood on a maculel¨º base.


    "Come on, show me what an old medium can do."


    "At our last meeting, you managed to touch me. Don''t get so confident, kid. I''ve forgotten what you''re going to learn about mediumship."


    Jabir flew towards Akachi. He threw a punch, but the boy defended it with one of his sticks. Azekel''s grandson felt that the blow had not been delivered with his true strength. The young medium felt that the sage had been toying with him. Before he could prepare a counterattack, Jabir disappeared from his field of vision and appeared on the other side with a punch coming towards his pelvis.

 Song 119: Family reunion - Part 4

    As luck would have it, the wind from the explosion of Hakim''s Of¨® blew away the flames that were devouring Durojaiye''s scales. She fell to the ground, chest facing upwards. Her legs were stretched out and crooked, an arm around her forehead casting shadows over her eyelids. All her desolation was exposed.


    He gasped; the heat had affected his windpipe. He had a coughing fit. With his head turned to the side where the explosion had occurred, a cloud of dust and Ax¨¦ particles rose into the sky like a gigantic mushroom. The blue sky seemed to have been disturbed, the white clouds turned gray. They seemed to have been contaminated with hatred.


    Durojaiye didn''t know. She had never been inclined to battle, preferring a life of peace and quiet. But the voice of war had called her to battle. War does not allow anyone peace.


    She touched her smoky hair. She grimaced. Of the members of the Circle of Sages, she was the vainest.


    What? Damn you! Look at my hair! I''m going to kill you, undertaker from hell.


    For some reason, when she felt her hair being mistreated by the heat, she let a smile frame her thick lips. For some unexplained reason, it awakened long-forgotten memories.


    ?


    In the clan responsible for guarding the Spiritual Key of Generation, sexual identity relations were more fluid. Families without female children used to choose a boy and raise him as a woman. This young man was taught the tasks considered feminine, and spent his days with the women, working with them, absorbing their experience and behavior.


    This didn''t mean that everyone spent their lives believing they were women; some even married and had children. For the Generation Clan, this was a normal custom, which for other clans was too liberal, but tolerable for the sake of maintaining good relations between them.


    With the arrival of Ojwang and the opening up of the country to foreign influences, the perception of Ilu Nla society changed radically. Groups began to harass young travestied as the Generation Clan. Acts of humiliation escalated to physical attacks and even a murder that shocked the country.


    Unfounded rumors attributed various social problems, such as youth corruption and Ilu Nla''s low birth rate, to the travestied. It was in this context that Durojaiye took up the post of Generation Sage.


    However, her acceptance was not immediate¡­


    "Me?"


    "Yes! Who else can take over, you idiot?"


    "You!"


    "Me? No! You''re the strongest psychic in the clan now."


    "So, what do I do?"


    "Take a rocket and go to the moon."


    "Aff! Don''t be silly."


    A young Durojaiye woman turned her back on her aunt. The young medium felt strange. She was older than her aunt, although she sometimes wanted to take advice from her. This was impossible due to her immaturity. Although the other aunt was a woman, she didn''t know how to cook, wash, sew, take care of plants or the healing arts.


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    Her niece did everything better than her aunt, with greater speed and zeal. This led to a sometimes-unfair exchange between the two. Durojaiye did her aunt''s housework in exchange for clothes and cosmetics. They were confidants, although the aunt knew that her niece came to visit her more to escape her responsibilities to the clan than to catch up.


    "You can''t run away forever, Durojayie."


    "Is that perfume French?"


    "Yes, it is¡­ Stop running away, you idiot!"


    Her aunt angrily smacked her niece upside the head. Durojaiye''s eyes watered.


    I was going to play, you didn''t have to hit me!


    In her family of four siblings, the medium was the youngest, and the only one to cross-dress. She was averse to mediumship training and ran away whenever she could. Her older brothers were very angry to hear that she had been chosen for the job, but refused to take it on.


    Her parents tried to delay the decision of the clan chiefs, but they were resolute in their choice. Durojaiye was a born talent. He had an enormous capacity for emitting Ax¨¦, for control, for combining modeling with Of¨® like no one else. At that moment, they needed a new leader, a strong young woman who could face the enemy to come.


    Her niece continued to distract herself with her aunt''s clothes and cosmetics. The young woman became so angry that she shouted at the medium.


    "Durojaiye, you can''t run away from your destiny."


    The medium was paralyzed by her aunt''s words. She turned around with moist eyes.


    "Especially what we didn''t choose¡­"


    "You''re a fool, you know that? You can do wonderful things with your mediumship. I was born into this clan, and like many others in Ilu Nla, I was born without this gift. Don''t waste the talent you have for comfort."


    "Don''t say that, snif-snif, I just wanted an ordinary life, snif, I haven''t even found myself a crush yet!"


    Durojaiye began to cry with her mouth wide open. She hugged her aunt, squeezing her so tightly that she was breathless. The woman began to smooth her broad back and sang a lullaby. She knew exactly how the medium felt.


    "Don''t be afraid, my dear. Responsibilities come to everyone. I married young and I''m already expecting my first child. I only have the strength of my arms to protect myself and my son. Not you, you have mediumship. You''ll be a wise woman. You can protect yourself and all of us. Isn''t that incredible?"


    "That''s a lot of responsibility on my shoulders."


    "Growing up means taking on our responsibilities."


    ?


    "Have I grown up, auntie?"


    The sky was overcast. The heavy clouds heralded heavy rain. Durojaiye wiped the tears from her eyes. He stood up and shook the dust from his clothes with his hands. He evoked all the remaining Ax¨¦. Unlike the accusations that had fallen on her, she hadn''t resigned her post out of futility, but out of fear of being an insufficient medium.


    Excuses that her mind had created to stop her immersing herself in a world of struggles and combats that she thought were meaningless. If she had had a choice, she wouldn''t have been a medium, nor would she have been in Ilu Nla, but now she was a sage. She decided to follow Ekundayo, she thought he was the only medium who could bring a new order to Ilu Nla.


    At that moment, more than any other, she assumed her responsibility. After all, a spiritual key was not an ornament, it was an ancestral treasure. A force that accumulated memories, experiences that fed the strength of the current user.


    "All right, auntie. I''ll follow your recommendation. Snake Dive Scales."


    Ax¨¦ molded around his body in hexagonal scales. The armor took on the colors of a sea serpent, black with yellow patterns. Durojaiye leapt into the air, and like an Olympic diver, crossed the ground. With her Of¨®, she could swim freely across solid surfaces.


    The scales emitted a short, intense vibration that caused the soil molecules to split, giving way to it and then coming together in nanoseconds. The structure of the objects remained as if it had never been disturbed by their Ax¨¦. With her Ax¨¦ spread, amplified by the scales, she could feel the aura of everything above ground.


    She advanced against Fadala, seven feet below the ground. The gunman was struggling to walk up the stairs. He seemed to have felt the blow to his torso. She decided to hit his legs so that he wouldn''t have a chance to move quickly again.


    My chance! You''ll have to die today, sweetie.


    Above the surface, Fadala was smoking his herbal cigarette. With his sensory synesthesia, he felt a slight disturbance below the ground. He knew something was wrong, but he had no chance of dodging the blow. Anticipating a counterattack would make him lose the surprise effect. He had to hope for a miracle. He was a man of faith, maybe it would come.


    No, I have to take this blow. Sacrifice a part of my body to avoid a critical hit and stay in the fight.


    Fadala held himself ready. He held the pistol in his left hand by the barrel, as if it were a truncheon, and left the other ready to fire at his left side.


    "Your tricks won''t work!"


    The blow was indefensible, as Fadala had predicted. The medium got off the ground and struck with her flat hand, her fingers linked, her scales like blades. The mortician fired, sending her body crashing into the stone wall. His left arm deflected Durojaiye''s hand from his leg to his left shoulder.


    Before Fadala could react, the Generation Sage dived through the wall. She applied a rear naked choke to the hired killer. Her opponent put her mouth to Fadala''s ear and said:


    "Stop struggling, sweetie. It''ll make you suffer."

 Song 120: Family reunion - Part 5

    Durojaiye held Fadala in his stranglehold. The sage''s right arm was under the mortician''s neck, her hand clutching the bicep of her left hand. Her left arm forced the gunman''s head backwards like a lever. The left hand pressed his opponent''s head forward, which increased the hang.


    Fadala was dragged to the rock wall, which prevented him from moving. To reduce the feeling of suffocation, he bent his knees, which forced his opponent upwards. With his free hand, he slipped his hand under the medium''s forearm and threw her to the right.


    The quick counter-attack took his enemy by surprise. Durojaiye had taken Fadala by surprise, but with half her body plunged into the rocky wall, she had no foothold. She was thrown to the side, and before she could be shot, she plunged into the ground like a snake.


    ¡°Damn you! You won''t escape a third time.¡±


    Fadala felt the pain in his shoulder throbbing. He reloaded his pistol with difficulty. Since his strategy wouldn''t work a second time against her, he decided he would draw her out. The hitman ran up the stairs.


    Durojaiye chased him underground and tried to attack him several times. Fadala dodged all his blows. The medium knew the weakness of her Of¨®, its mobility within the ground guaranteed total stealth, but it was slow. The Serpent''s Diving Scales was an Of¨® used for infiltration, not as a hand-to-hand combat tool, although it was applied as an assassination technique.


    ¡°Compact Snake Scales.¡±


    The Generation Sage leapt out of the ground. With this Of¨®, her speed and endurance were unparalleled. The scales made of shaped Ax¨¦ and grouped along her body like an overcoat, reduced all friction with the air, making her aerodynamic. They were light, adjustable to her anatomy and very resistant.


    Unh! She changed her strategy; we were at an impasse. Underground, you wouldn''t be able to keep up with my speed.


    Fadala, while running, turned to Durojayie. He put his hand in his suit pocket. The psychic predicted that it would be an explosive, and instinctively used Of¨® Flexible Serpent Scales. Instead of an explosive, the man from Il¨º Apanyan threw dozens of silver objects towards the sage.


    But what are they?


    ¡°Coins¡­¡±


    The various coins hit the medium''s inflated body. He thought it was a distraction by his opponent to carry out the real attack. Durojaiye realized that the gunman had only reloaded his firearm. She reverted the scales from flexible to compact and, to her surprise, heard the sound of breaking glass. The sage groped around her abdomen until she discovered a coin wedged between two scales.


    The Of¨® had not filled its entire body. The space between the uncompacted scales created an instability in Ax¨¦''s circulation. Ax¨¦''s shapely scales collapsed onto the floor.


    ¡°No! But what have you done?¡±


    The answer came from the gun, bang! He felt the projectile pierce his chest. With trembling hands, she brought her hand to the bleeding. She walked unsteadily, and felt a shiver run down her spine. Her body staggered backwards, but Fadala moved quickly and caught her in his arms before she collapsed to the ground.


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    Durojaiye felt weak, but at the same time she felt comfort. Fadala gently led her to the wall and helped her sit on the floor with her legs stretched out. Her head hung to one side, but he held her so she wouldn''t collapse. She looked at the wound, then stared at the hitman with watery eyes.


    ¡°Oh! Hold me, sweetie. I feel the breath of death. Make this princess''s last wish come true¡­¡±


    The Sage of the Generation closed her tearful eyes, and her thick, moist lips prepared a kiss. Fadala pushed her away and lifted her off the ground.


    ¡°Don''t be dramatic, I didn''t hit any of your vital organs. You''ll live.¡±


    ¡°You''re not very gentlemanly with women, are you?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, I need to climb the Judgement Stone.¡±


    ¡°Even if you manage to reach your companions, you won''t defeat anyone with that wounded arm.¡±


    ¡°I only need one hand to shoot.¡±


    Fadala ran up the stairs. Durojaiye was upset at being defeated, but at the same time felt admiration for her enemy. Without the use of mediumship, he had defeated her. He lived up to the reputation of funeral directors. She stared up at the cloudy sky. She pressed the wound, splashing. Blood was the only thing emitting heat at that moment.


    Suddenly, the Generation Sage grimaced in pain. She felt something piercing her chest. Blood began to flow from her eyes like tears. Between the flashes of lightning that traced the sky, she saw the dark figure that was growing in front of her. Just then, heavy rain began to fall.


    I''m going to die here without seeing that new world you promised me, Ekundayo¡­


    The medium''s eyes became lifeless. The shadow that had attacked her revealed itself.


    ¡°General Luena, this is Nebula No. 1. Durojaiye, the Sage of the Generation, is dead. I''ll get the Spirit Key and take it straight to you.¡±


    ¡°Go back to our mobile base immediately. Nebula No. 4 has been killed by the sage Hakim. I don''t want to lose anyone else in the field today.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ?


    Jabir looked at Akachi with contempt. He considered it disrespectful for the boy to bear the Spiritual Key of Faith without being a legitimate medium. Of all the sages, the Sage of Strength was the most attached to tradition, and he wouldn''t accept a situation like that: a materialized bond of ancestry being used as a battery for an exoskeleton. It was more than an outrage, it was sacrilege.


    ¡°You''re so weak that even with the Spiritual Key of Faith, you need to firm up your Ori Guardian in your body.¡±


    ¡°I''m not a medium, I never wanted to be. I can break one little rule or another¡­¡±


    ¡°One little rule or another? Hohohoho! You''re just like your stupid father.¡±


    ¡°Don''t talk about my father like that!¡±


    Calm down, brou, he''s trying to annoy you. Keep a cool head.


    ¡°This guy gets on my nerves, Fenyang.¡±


    Jabir threw off his cloak, leaving only dark pants and boots. He spread a strong emission of Ax¨¦ through his body, then concentrated it in his fists. His muscles tightened, making him more imposing. All around him, the ground was bruised with craters.


    ¡°I''m going to teach you a lesson that useless Yasini never gave you.¡±


    ¡°My master is not¡­¡±


    From the side, brou.


    Akachi placed the crossed sticks in an X shape. With great effort, he managed to deflect the attack into the wall. The young medium jumped away.


    ¡°Good! Make that old medium''s skeleton rust, kid. Exponential Force Punch.¡±


    Jabir set off against Akachi. Adisa''s son had noticed that Jabir''s previous punch was similar to a charging blow, in other words, he drew the Ax¨¦ into his fists and struck with all the concentrated energy. By using the same amount, he would nullify the enemy''s attack. When he was hit, the concentration of energy was much greater than expected.


    Akachi was thrown up the stairs. The young medium picked himself up off the ground. He wiped the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. The rain began to fall heavily. The rain droplets soon formed small cascades on the stone steps.


    ¡°What''s wrong, kid? Are you going to run into Daddy''s arms?¡±


    ¡°Fenyang, I hate that old man.¡±


    That makes two of us, brou.


    ¡°I''m going to beat you so badly that that filthy spirit you''ve made will come out of your mouth.¡±


    Jabir was quick to attack the boy. Azekel''s grandson noticed that the sage was concentrating his Ax¨¦ to deliver a single blow, calling on him to amplify his physical strength. To compensate for his physical strength, he had to use his speed. He concentrated Ax¨¦ in his legs and prepared for a counter-attack.

 Song 121: Family reunion - Part 6

    Jabir was surprised by the speed. Akachi''s counter-offensive sought to bruise the joints of the upper limbs. The old medium used the tactic of spreading Ax¨¦ around the joints and repelling it back to the defense. The sticks didn''t touch for a centimeter.


    Adisa''s son took his distance from his opponent. He reflected for a few moments. By using Ax¨¦''s concentration and repulsion on his legs to increase his speed, he had lost impact force. Jabir knew how to exploit this vulnerability effectively. He used the old tactic of concentrating Ax¨¦ on the soles of his feet and repelling parts of the ground to throw at his opponent.


    ¡°Those childish tricks don''t work on me, kid! Shockwave Palm.¡±


    Jabir opened his hands, and with rapid semi-circular movements, as if he were slapping the air, he generated rapid propagated disturbances, which altered the temperature and density of the atmosphere present. The shock waves rebounded off the debris thrown by Akachi, as well as hurling him away. The boy hit the stone wall hard.


    The medium felt a rib crack. Before he could rise from the ground, Jabir appeared and threw a punch that lifted him several meters above the ground. Akachi flew through the air in bewilderment, but managed to fend off another punch from his opponent with great difficulty. Jabir didn''t despair at his opponent''s block, and tried to hit the medium''s abdomen several times.


    As they fell towards the Stone of Judgement, both continued to strike each other. Jabir''s short stature and stamina meant that he was able to get through Akachi''s defenses quickly. Azekel''s grandson, being bigger than the sage, bent down to hit him, and bent down for a long time to inflict the bruises.


    ¡°Give up now and your death will be less painful.¡±


    ¡°Think fast, old man!¡±


    Akachi pretended to attack with a bruise on his elbow, but with his other hand, he hit Jabir in the stomach with a stock. The old man let out a grunt of pain, grabbed Akachi''s head with one hand and began to punish him with the other.


    ¡°A little blow like that won''t knock me out.¡±


    ¡°No? But you''ve already fallen.¡±


    Akachi turned the handle of the tungsten rod and the Sage of Force was hit by an immense electrical discharge. His eyes went white and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. They both fell to the ground, and a curtain of dust rose up.


    Akachi¡­


    Adisa''s son''s ears were ringing. His body trembled. He hadn''t considered the consequences of electrocuting his opponent while they were still in physical contact. He was betting that the old medium''s physical resistance was less than his own.


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    You... get up, brou...


    ¡°Fenyang?¡±


    Akachi''s eyes became less cloudy. To his surprise, Jabir was on his feet. The area around his epigastrium had a purple circle of burning. The old man gasped, but kept a huge smile on his wide, small-eyed face. He walked with difficulty towards his opponent.


    Akachi tried to get up from the ground. His body shook with a slight epileptic lapse. His mouth was dry. His skin felt dehydrated. He tried to crawl, his body felt ten times heavier than usual. He used the sticks to support himself, but only managed to lift his upper body.


    ¡°Now you can''t escape me.¡±


    Jabir grabbed him by the neck. He squeezed so hard that the young medium lost his breath. Adisa''s son suffocated. His face reddened, the veins in his neck began to bulge. His pupils were filled with blood. Akachi tried to attack the old man with blows, but they soon lost their force. His arms fell dead.


    Akachi! Akachi? Akachi...


    Jabir strangled the young man with sadistic pleasure. His fury ignited the vigor in his old muscles. His opponent no longer seemed to be showing any resistance. But he didn''t let go of his prey.


    Akachi, if you don''t react, I will.


    To the Force Sage''s surprise, a smile framed Akachi''s face. The teenager''s muscles tensed. The old man felt something strange about the situation. He had calculated that the strangulation had caused Adisa''s son to faint.


    ¡°What are you laughing at?¡±


    ¡°I thought you were stronger.¡±


    Before the other could react, the sticks entered between Jabir''s arms and opened with a scissoring motion, forcing the sage to let go of Akachi. The old man leapt away. He studied the situation.


    Akachi twisted his neck and coughed a few times to reduce the pressure in his throat. He pointed one of the sticks at his opponent and challenged:


    ¡°Best out of three, old man?¡±


    It''s not the boy''s voice.


    ¡°Oh, no! Don''t tell me you''ve been possessed by your Ori Guardian? Hohohoho, how useless! That''s a complete disgrace for a medium.¡±


    ¡°Akachi''s just taking a break, old man. Soon he''ll be back to kick your ass.¡±


    ¡°You''re far too shameless to be an ancestor of the Faith clan. Who the hell are you?¡±


    ¡°I''m Fenyang, a master of maculel¨º. I''m going to do a percussion solo on your body.¡±


    Fenyang felt a strange sensation. It was like a virus that had taken over the system and controlled all the hardware. Akachi and he had such a strong connection that the Spiritual Steadiness continued even when the medium was unconscious. In those conditions, he wouldn''t have been able to fully exploit his abilities. On the other hand, his enemy wasn''t in the best condition either.


    ¡°I''m going to break the Firmament and expel you from this body.¡±


    Jabir advanced against the possessed Akachi. Fenyang reacted, but the movement was too sudden, he couldn''t gauge the exact force on his limbs. He was afraid of hurting Akachi in the process. His attempt to block Jabir''s attack was successful. The sage''s punch bounced away.


    The old medium didn''t give up. He launched another attack, aimed at his opponent''s back. Fenyang, however clumsily, managed to dodge Jabir''s fist. He stepped on the stone wall, propelled his foot, spun upside down and delivered an accurate strike to the back of the medium''s head.


    The old man felt all the pain of being hit by surprise. With successive rapid movements, Fenyang struck his opponent''s joints. His knees, elbows, shoulders and hips were bombarded with sharp blows. Finally, Fenyang kicked Jabir in the back, knocking him away.


    The old man fell to the ground snorting like a horse. His body was shaking. He seemed to have suffered damage, but not enough to take him out of the game.


    The maculel¨º master maintained his offensive position. He didn''t want to be caught off guard.


    What chance did that have of doing anything to this old bastard? None. Akachi, I''m going to hold the line here until you get back.

 Song 122: Family reunion - Part 7

    Akachi opened his eyes. He closed his eyelids several times until he got used to the light. In the sky, a solitary yellowish light shone. He had a strange feeling of weightlessness, as if he were incorporeal. He rose from the sandy ground. He was in a vast desert. There was nothing but dunes and more reddish dunes.


    A cold wind swept the dust from one side to the other. He began to walk unsteadily, the desert soil was very soft. It was very different from the landscape of Judgement Stone, which was arid but not deserted. He thought he had been sent far away with a blow, or even that he had fainted and been taken somewhere far away.


    He stopped walking. He didn''t know where he had to go. There was no point of reference. He decided to walk in the opposite direction of the sun to avoid the excess heat.


    ¡°Hi! Is anyone there? Where am I?¡±


    No answer was heard. Adisa''s son was alone. The boy walked in bewilderment. He felt melancholy, a heaviness in his chest as if he had a ton of lead in place of his heart.


    ¡°Fenyang! Spin Bomb! Can someone help me?¡±


    Suddenly, Akachi saw something flutter in the air behind a dune right in front of him. He stumbled over to it. His grandfather and Spin Bomb were there, smiling and with open arms.


    ¡°Gee, I''m glad you''re here... no, wait, don''t leave!¡±


    As much as he asked them to stay, the images faded as if they had been sucked up by a whirlwind. In the opposite direction, he saw the figure of Fadala. Akachi held out hope and went towards him, but the figure met the same fate as the others.


    On the other side, Akachi saw Yasini. In desperation, he went towards her. Tears welled up in his eyes. A second time, the image disappeared right before his eyes. The young medium nibbled his lips and spoke between his teeth.


    ¡°Master, don''t leave me alone.¡±


    He stumbled down the dune. Falling, he hugged his knees and curled up like a cocoon. For the first time in a long time, Azekel''s grandson once again felt the thing that had tortured him most in life: loneliness. He had spent his entire youth in hospital beds. He never went to school, he had no siblings, and his relationship with his father Adisa was cold and distant. He closed his eyes and began to sob.


    ¡°It''s been a long time since we''ve been like this, hasn''t it?¡±


    Akachi wiped the tears from his eyes. To his surprise, a child about seven years old was squatting next to him. He looked frail and his eyes were dull. The medium stood up in confusion. He was wearing hospital clothes. There was a bandage on his right elbow. The two looked at each other.


    ¡°Us? But who are you? Do you know where we are?¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you don''t recognize yourself anymore? Look around, we''ve been here before. No memories were born here, it''s sad.¡±


    ¡°Memories... a desert of memories. I think I understand. I''m dead...¡±


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    ¡°You''re not, not the way you think.¡±


    Akachi walked in a circle around the child. He was surprised, it was his child self. The medium knelt on the floor and put a hand on the shoulder of his other self. Azekel''s grandson felt sorry for him, or rather for himself. He didn''t remember that he was so small, so sick, so sad. A lifeless child.


    ¡°How do I get out of here?¡±


    ¡°We''re not trapped, you''ve taken refuge here.¡±


    ¡°No, I want to leave.¡±


    ¡°Do you?¡±


    Akachi didn''t know what to say. The child pointed to the sky with his thin little arm.


    ¡°Look! Do you want to go back there?¡±


    In the sky, a fight between Akachi and Jabir was reflected. The medium had a strange sensation. His mouth dropped open.


    ¡°No need to be scared, it''s not you.¡±


    ¡°I see. Do you want me to stay here?¡±


    ¡°We''ll go where you go.¡±


    ¡°A desert is a boring place for us. You can''t talk to mirages.¡±


    The boy held out his hand to Akachi. Azekel''s grandson also extended his hand. The two shook hands. The desert disappeared and the two became particles of light that rose into the azure sky.


    ¡°Let''s create our memories from now on.¡±


    ?


    Fenyang had changed his fighting strategy. He decided to use stocks on the enemy''s joints and electrocute them. It was a way of immobilizing the enemy. Jabir''s attacks were fulminating, and the maculel¨º master wasn''t sure he could take a blow in those conditions. Nor was his own body.


    The repeated electrocutions irritated Jabir. His limbs went numb, making it difficult for Ax¨¦ to spread. He had narrowly escaped the attack on the Throne of Force region. He couldn''t have been more careless. A simple Ori Guardian was giving him a lot of trouble.


    Jabir snorted. His Of¨® had a simple goal: to defeat as many enemies as possible with as few blows as possible. For this reason, they depended on large Ax¨¦ charges. A long fight would quickly deplete his Ax¨¦ reserve. Even so, he still wanted to win.


    He also decided to change his strategy. He concentrated his Ax¨¦ on the front of his forehead and head-butted his enemy. Fenyang tried to defend himself and put the X-shaped sticks in front of his body. The sticks were shattered. He defended the attack and flew away in the other direction.


    ¡°What did you think of that, kid?¡±


    Jabir redid his posture and began to emit more Ax¨¦. The Inner Force Portal began to vibrate more intensely, increasing the flow of vital energy available.


    ¡°Don''t tell me you''ve given up, I haven''t finished with you yet.¡±


    Akachi stood up slowly. His contorted body conveyed a strange sensation to anyone watching the scene. His eyes opened, but they were rolled back. His joints cracked.


    Jabir took a step back. He no longer knew what to expect from that boy.


    ¡°Sorry it took so long.¡±


    At last, welcome, brou.


    To the sage''s surprise, the boy had come out of his trance and regained control of his body.


    ¡°This will be the final round. I''ll get my sticks and... Damn it, Fenyang! Where are my tungsten rods?¡±


    Sorry, I broke it.


    And you say that so normally! I only know how to fight maculel¨º, damn it!


    If you could model your Ax¨¦ like the others, it would help a lot.


    Yeah, I know, wait, memories...


    I don''t understand anything, brou. You''re out of your mind.


    No, the Spiritual Key of Faith is a repository of memories of my ancestors, of the ancient Sages of Faith. I can access these memories.


    Akachi raised both hands towards Jabir. He opened his hands and concentrated a large mass of Ax¨¦ in his palms. Ax¨¦ modeling consisted of the ability to use Ax¨¦ to materialize something, to transform pure energy into mass. This mass, through electromagnetism, acquires a state of matter.


    The composition of electrons, protons and neutrons gave atomic consistency. The number and mass, together with the last valence layer, gave the mass for the formation of chemical substances. From there, it was possible to model the mass for any type of material.


    Akachi slowly modeled two tungsten rods, with the same weight and consistency as the previous one.


    Jabir was surprised. He laughed loudly. He walked slowly towards his opponent, who didn''t flinch an inch and didn''t leave his defensive posture.


    ¡°Isn''t that wonderful? The Spiritual Key is the manifestation of Fante Obatayie''s Divine Power. They enhance our Mediumistic Profile, leveling our four Functions one hundred percent. What makes the wise dismiss the Ori Guardian? You shame mediums by depending on this insignificant spirit to fight. I''ll say it one last time: hand over that key.¡±


    ¡°Come and get it!¡±

 Song 123: Family reunion - Part 8

    Jabir threw a powerful punch at Akachi. The boy defended himself with one of his sticks. The sage struck a second time, only to be beaten back with the young medium''s other staff. The old man soon tried a third and fourth attack, but to no avail. Azekel''s grandson remained in place, not moving a step.


    The Sage of Force couldn''t admit that a lowly amateur like him had acquired so much skill so quickly. Jabir distanced himself from his opponent. He prepared the Shockwave Palm. To his surprise, his opponent didn''t move or flinch. This angered Jabir. The sage shouted in fury:


    ¡°Don''t look so smug, kid. Wipe that smile off your face.¡±


    The shockwaves moved swiftly through the air towards Akachi. They exploded like and left a trail of high-pitched echoing sound. It was as if a huge squadron of supersonic fighter jets had broken the sound barrier, all at the same time. With little or no effort, Adisa''s son deflected the shockwaves with unparalleled agility. It was as if he could predict where they would pass.


    The sage punched the rock wall and pulled out a huge boulder. He dug his fingertips into the rock and whirled it around quickly, then released it towards Akachi. The teenager understood what his enemy was up to, and threw one of the sticks with repulsive force towards the rock, which crumbled into countless pieces of debris.


    Akachi took advantage of the distraction and jumped over the rocky debris. He intended to attack his opponent from above. However, Jabir spread as much Ax¨¦ as he could on his arms, then slammed his fists into the ground to raise a curtain of dust. The young medium''s eyes were hit by the sand and he was unable to hit his target, who escaped.


    Damn it, brou! Where is he?


    I don''t know, that old man''s a tough nut to crack...


    ¡°I''m right here, kid! Damage Multiplier Punches.¡±


    Before Akachi could react, he was hit just below the ribs by Jabir. His ribs cracked as if they were made of glass. This left him unprotected for a few seconds, which offered a great advantage to Jabir who struck him a second time. The young medium, in an instinctive gesture of self-defense, tried to kick the sage. The old man dodged before he was hit.


    Akachi put one hand on his ribs and took two steps back. He had received two punches, but seemed to have earned many more.


    ¡°It hurts, doesn''t it?¡±


    ¡°What did you do to me?¡±


    ¡°You''ll find out soon enough.¡±


    With great effort, Akachi pulled himself together. The young man recognized that despite the speed of his blows, they tended to be circular rather than straight, which made it easier for enemies to strike quickly from the flanks. His other staff was too far away to be retrieved. Jabir took the opportunity to mock his opponent.


    ¡°You want it? Go and get it.¡±


    The sage kicked the stick away. Akachi waved his empty hand and fashioned another staff with the same characteristics. He concentrated some of the Ax¨¦ at the ends.


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    ¡°Hunf! You''ve learned a new trick and you''re already thinking about it.¡±


    They both went at each other. Akachi tried to hit Jabir''s knee, but he defended with his thigh. The move allowed the sage to hit the boy on the chin with a hook. However, the teenager hit him on the left side, at the elbow, but the old man punched him in the chest.


    The exchange of blows continued between the fighters. They were so intense that sparks of Ax¨¦ particles were emitted into the air. Akachi and Jabir were sweating. Despite all the physical effort, they didn''t look fatigued.


    The desire to finish the fight kept them on their feet. Everything around them was destroyed by the impact of the attacks. The steps of the Judgement Stone staircase were shattered. The rock wall was pummeled with punches, kicks and staff blows. Jabir was the first to show some fatigue after minutes of confrontation.


    The air entered his lungs like a handful of needles. He put one hand on the wall. His legs trembled and he struggled to stand. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. His eyes were struck by vertigo. It was as if his body was frozen.


    Akachi was still standing. He looked tired and had many bruises all over his body. One of his eyelids was swollen, with a trickle of blood running from it. The young medium was smiling.


    ¡°What are you laughing at, you silly boy?¡±


    ¡°Now I understand your Of¨®. At first, I wondered how it worked. I hadn''t felt the first punch that much. But now I understand.¡±


    ¡°I doubt you have the ability to deduce a technique as advanced as that.¡±


    ¡°There''s nothing advanced about it, it''s very simple.¡±


    ¡°How dare you?¡±


    ¡°The first blow injects your Ax¨¦ into the enemy''s body. The second blow applies a repulsive force, multiplying the first damage that was delayed, and expanding the impact area of the second blow. It''s ingenious, but it has a weakness...¡±


    Great, brou, you got him. Look at the old man''s face.


    ¡°You... but how?¡±


    ¡°I got suspicious at the first few blows. For the Of¨® effect to take place, you can''t be hit by your opponent. Otherwise, you''ll have to restart the sequence from scratch. I let him hit me on purpose a few times to be sure. It''s a good thing I was right, otherwise you could have hit me endlessly.¡±


    Jabir grimaced. He couldn''t admit that his technique had been neutralized by that boy. The sage tried to concentrate Ax¨¦ in his fists, but the tendons stiffened. His eyes bulged out. The old man felt like a statue. The mere mention of moving made his body lock up.


    What''s the matter? Move, Jabir!


    ¡°Even so... you''ve been hit by many of my blows. You... shouldn''t move either.¡±


    ¡°Ah! But you gave me the answer. I restricted my Ax¨¦ Functions to my Mediumistic Profile. When you said that the Spiritual Key could level all the Functions by one hundred percent, I started to attract, propagate, repel and concentrate at the maximum level, so...¡±


    ¡°No, it can''t be.¡±


    ¡°I was spreading Ax¨¦ where you hit me and reducing the damage. That way I could find a way to counterattack.¡±


    Jabir walked with difficulty. He rehearsed a move to attack Akachi. However, his muscles didn''t respond.


    ¡°You won''t be able to move. By maintaining the sequence of the multiplication of giving, you couldn''t spread the Ax¨¦ in your body and protect yourself from my blows.¡±


    ¡°You didn''t manage to injure my joints.¡±


    ¡°No, but I used the Electrical Property of Propagation on your tendons. I cut off the electrical stimuli from the movements of your arms and legs. When you spend a long time in hospital, you learn something.¡±


    Akachi approached Jabir without haste, dissolving the sticks he was carrying. He got as close to his opponent as he could. The sage''s eyes widened. The young medium prepared a punch. Jabir tried to get away, but his arms and legs wouldn''t move. The weight of his body tilted him backwards.


    ¡°That''s for my grandfather.¡±


    Tump! The sage''s belly was hit, which made him lean over. He had never felt so vulnerable. He opened his mouth, frightened. The pain awakened his muscular system. His small arms curved under his belly. He screamed in pain.


    ¡°That''s it, it''s for my father.¡±


    Tump! A second punch hit Jabir''s ribs, causing him to bring both hands to the right side of his abdomen. It felt as if everything in his body was falling apart. The air seemed to stop in his throat. He took two steps backwards, but didn''t collapse.


    ¡°That... that''s for me.¡±


    Tump! Akachi punched Jabir in the left cheek. The impact threw him meters away like a ball. The old man''s body hit the wall, then fell to the ground face down. The sage was in so much pain that he couldn''t seem to stay conscious. In his topor state, the image of his father took Akachi''s place. Jabir growled something between his teeth. Something that only his soul heard.

 Song 124: Family reunion - Part 9

    The frightened boy tried to keep his distance from the others in front of him. He held his school bag tightly to his chest and took small steps, one at a time. His older brothers avoided walking in his company, they were ashamed of him. As a result, he felt even more vulnerable. He had no friends, which intensified his loneliness.


    Distracted, he bumped into someone. He fell on his butt. His briefcase opened and his school materials fell to the ground, absorbing the dust from the street.


    ¡°Hey, watch where you''re going, kid!¡±


    The boy on the ground squinted his eyes. A bead of sweat ran from his forehead to his cheek. He was paralyzed. He had just bumped into the school bully. He tried to run, but his legs weakened. The bully and his gang surrounded him.


    ¡°Well, if it isn''t the illustrious son of the Sage of Force. You don''t strike me as intimidating.¡±


    ¡°I... I apologize. No... it was because I wanted to.¡±


    ¡°Ah! You''ve soiled my uniform, dwarf.¡±


    Before the boy could apologize again, he was kicked in the stomach. With his short stature, he became even smaller. He curled up like a caterpillar and threw up his breakfast. The bully''s shoes got dirty. The bully was so angry that he continued to kick and stomp on the boy. Without reacting, he just shielded his face with the palms of his hands.


    ¡°It''s not going to stay that way, you freak! Nanico, you''ll never grow up, you know that? Hahahaha, lick my shoes!¡±


    The boy, sobbing, his face bloodied, grimaced. Before he could get his tongue on his shoe, a group of adults began to notice. The bully''s colleagues grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away. The boy struggled to get up.


    An elderly woman and a man passing by tried to help him, but he refused. He threw his school supplies into his backpack and limped off in the opposite direction to the school. As he walked, people laughed at him. They called him ugly names and ridiculed the fact that the son of the Sage of the Force was so weak.


    He skipped class and spent the whole time on an abandoned pier. A place that few dared to go to because of the risk of collapse, it became his refuge. The building stretched like a wooden backbone, a meter and a half above the sea. The blackened wood and rusty iron beams showed how abandoned it was. At the end, there was a bandstand with a dry straw roof.


    There, the boy lay in a fetal position and clenched his fists. The tears fell in sobs, the cry stuck in his throat. He tried hard not to cry, but he couldn''t. He burst into tears. He burst into tears. Only the waves and the chirping of the seagulls were louder than his crying.


    ?


    The boy walked into the house, making sure not to attract attention. He was ashamed of his condition, there were bruises all over his body and wounds that had not yet healed. Lunch had already been taken from the kitchen. The young man went to the pots and pans and checked what was left. His older brothers had eaten their share. He would have to make do with some rice and beans without meat.


    Before he could put down his portion, a voice thundered behind him, causing him to drop his plate.


    ¡°Jabir!¡±


    The dishes fell to the floor and shattered with a crash. The little brown pieces were scattered all over the kitchen. Behind young Jabir, sitting on a cushion, legs and arms crossed. was his father. A big, burly man, he was well over middle-aged. He was a chubby medium, but he retained a lot of physical strength.


    He had a stern look on his face. Jabir hated the way his father looked at him, always from above, proud of his position. He couldn''t face him back. He lowered his eyes and began to touch the tips of his fingers to his chest. Talking to his father gave him anxiety.


    ¡°Your brothers told me you didn''t go to school today. Your mother was worried that you didn''t show up for lunch.¡±


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    ¡°I... had an accident.¡±


    ¡°You must be the unluckiest child in the world. You have an accident every day.¡±


    Jabir bit his lips. He swallowed his saliva with a loud glup! He remained paralyzed, not knowing what to say or do.


    ¡°You don''t have to lie to me, my son. I know everything that''s going on with you.¡±


    For the first time, Jabir faced him. He came out of his defensive posture. He tapped his foot on the floor and, angry as ever, thought of something very rude to say to his father. He couldn''t, he was his father and a member of the Circle of Sages. He took a step back. Despite his fear, he dared to ask:


    ¡°If you know everything, why haven''t you done anything?¡±


    ¡°I''m not like your mother, I can''t overprotect you. If I do, I''ll be turning you into a slacker.¡±


    ¡°Dad, I know you''re ashamed of me. I''ll never grow up, the neighbors, at school, even my older brothers laugh at me. Dad, tell me, do you think so too?¡±


    ¡°I''m not ashamed of you for suffering from dwarfism. That would be like blaming a wheelchair user for depending on a wheelchair. What I am ashamed of is your cowardice, my son.¡±


    ¡°I''m not as strong as you. If you went to school, they''d stop beating me, you''d...¡±


    His father slapped him across the face. The blow echoed through the kitchen and made Jabir''s ears buzz like a beehive.


    ¡°I won''t do that, Jabir. You must face your fears and your enemies with your own strength. I can''t use my strength to intimidate little boys who still go to school. Some use force to hurt, others to protect. If you want to resolve this, use your strength to protect yourself.¡±


    The man loomed over little Jabir. He walked towards the couple''s bedroom. Jabir wiped away the tears that insisted on falling. He now knew what he had to do. He went to his father''s tool bag and took out a saw.


    ?


    The bully and his gang were walking towards the school when a bladder full of fetid water hit them. His entire uniform got wet with the foul water. The students started laughing at him. Aggressively, he pushed some students and kicked others. He sniffed his shirt and grimaced in disgust.


    ¡°What the fuck! It''s urine.¡±


    ¡°Hey, up here.¡±


    The group looked up, and another bladder hit the side of his face. Everyone looked up. Jabir was standing on a slab with several bladders in his hand. He threw them all at the boys around the school bully.


    ¡°You''re toast, Jabir. Get him.¡±


    Jabir had calculated the best route to the old pier. The group of attackers came after him. They didn''t seem to want to give up the chase. They reached the port area. The son of the Sage of Force ran towards the old building.


    Out of fear, some gave up chasing him. But the leader of the group wanted revenge. Jabir fled across the wooden bridge with the teenager eager to grab him. In the middle of the bridge, Jabir picked up momentum and made a long leap. The pursuer stepped on the planks that the boy had clenched earlier and fell into the water.


    Jabir put his head through the opening and saw his assailant being whipped by the waves. The boy burst out laughing. The other boy, however, was not amused at all. He couldn''t swim and was drowning. His friends had run away for fear that he would be swallowed up by the sea.


    ¡°Help! Help me, I can''t swim. Bluo! Please help me, bluo.¡±


    ¡°You''re just pretending.¡±


    ¡°No, ask for help. Bluo, I can''t swim.¡±


    Jabir watched the teenager sink like a stone into the sea. The boy took off his shirt and dived into the water. After a few seconds, he emerged with the bully at the edge of the beach. The aggressor was struggling between bouts of coughing. The son of the Sage of Force stayed by his side until he caught his breath.


    After that, he faced Jabir and started crying and sobbing like a baby. The young medium turned away from him. Without understanding anything, he thought he had overdone the punishment.


    ¡°You really can''t swim?¡±


    ¡°No, I don''t. I apologize, snif-snif, for what I did. I''m not going to hit you anymore, snif, or chase you around school. I swear! But please don''t tell anyone.¡±


    ¡°On one condition...¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Don''t make fun of people or ridicule them, otherwise I''ll tell them you cried like a little girl after drowning at the pier.¡±


    ¡°All right, snif-snif, I swear, I won''t do it anymore.¡±


    ?


    How funny, after that day we became friends.


    Akachi set the old medium down carefully. Jabir''s face was serene, he would be asleep for a few hours. His wounds weren''t mortal, but he needed to rest to recharge his strength. Adisa''s son tried to close his eyes, but he grabbed his opponent''s wrist and said:


    ¡°Only close the eyes of the dead, boy. I''m still very much alive.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, now rest.¡±


    Akachi left him behind and ran up the stairs. Jabir put his hands on his stomach. The sky was pitch black with furious lightning flashing across its cloudy canvas. The drops fell on his body, giving him a strange tickling sensation. He felt so old. Suddenly, he felt a strange presence.


    ¡°You''ve been there all this time to attack us from behind, haven''t you? Why don''t you wait to get mine back...¡±


    Before he could complete his sentence, splish! He was struck by the dark figure. The bloody blade was removed from Jabir''s chest. The old man spasmed twice and died with a smile on his face. His eyes were open and opaque, but they hadn''t stopped staring at his enemy.


    The figure searched Jabir''s pockets and took out the Spiritual Key of Strength. He activated his communicator:


    ¡°General Luena, this is Nebula No. 3. I managed to get the key from the Sage of the Force.¡±


    ¡°Good, Nebula No. 3. Come back to us.¡±


    ¡°Understood, ma''am.¡±


    The military woman placed her hands on Jabir''s eyes and gently closed them.

 Song 125: Family reunion - Part 10

    Spin Bomb made a huge effort to keep up with the old mediums. Mashal and his master Feruzi showed no signs of frailty, despite their advanced age. She was the one who felt like an old woman in that unbridled rush to the top of the Stone of Judgment.


    Nkechi was right behind. As a sage, she had her limitations. However, with her cunning, she knew how to circumvent them. With her mediumistic profile in PACR, her propagation of Ax¨¦ was very effective. Although she was unable to use Of¨®, she knew how to model with skill. She stopped running, dug her fingers underground and propagated a great mass of energy in long lines of Ax¨¦. She then shaped them into thick iron bars.


    This attracted the attention of Spin Bomb, who was coming up behind the fugitives.


    ¡°Hahahaha, the birds have fallen into the cage.¡±


    Several pointed iron bars came out of the ground and closed like a jaw on Feruzi, Mashal and the firework swordswoman. Slinz, threads of tiny thickness emerged waving like tentacles, tangled in the iron bars and cut them. The pieces burst and flew in all directions.


    ¡°You''re getting old and slow.¡±


    Feruzi''s eyes widened, and as if roaring, he scolded his disciple:


    ¡°Come on, respect your elders! Besides, you''re the one who was holding us up.¡±


    ¡°Blablabla, it''s time for you two to go. Rescue Akachi''s father, they deserve to meet again. Grandpa Azekel would be happy to have his son and grandson by his side. Now go, before I regret it.¡±


    ¡°Don''t play the hero, Spin Bomb. I didn''t train you to waste your life against a sage. Let me help you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, don''t stuff it, old man! There''s no point in training if we can''t show you the results. Go on!¡±


    Feruzi tried to retort, but Mashal nodded negatively.


    ¡°What, are you going to take her side now?¡±


    ¡°I''m not taking anyone''s side. I just remembered an old friend who said that we should trust the new generation, after all, they are the ancestors in the present time.¡±


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    Feruzi looked at Spin Bomb and then at Nkechi, nodding. He continued his run up the stairs with Mashal, they were both in a hurry.


    Nkechi glared at her opponent, who responded with her middle finger extended and her tongue hanging out. The gesture bewildered the sage. It was a very vulgar posture, even for someone like Spin Bomb. In her position, the Sage of Evolution had never been treated like this, even by her enemies.


    Spin Bomb took advantage of the moment to throw some explosives with blue zimbas at her enemy. The medium felt something spicy invade her airways. Her vision became soaked with tears. It didn''t take her long to understand what it was all about.


    Did that damned woman throw firebombs at me?


    Nkechi felt a warm breeze whistle past her ears. The firework swords with yellowish junipers were traveling at great speed, which allowed Spin Bomb to grab onto them by means of the string lines, and be pulled along. Spin Bomb raised both feet and hit her opponent in the chin, who was thrown a distance.


    Nkechi''s vision was blurred and her throat was on fire. She spat out a ball of blood. He slammed his fist three times into the ground. His angry eyes welled up with tears. She wanted to hurl insults, but all her attempts turned into bouts of coughing. She stood up unsteadily.


    ¡°You can''t use your purple fart mist, can you, bitch? I got you good, didn''t I?¡±


    ¡°Don''t sing victory, cof-cof, before your time, cof, you annoying brat.¡±


    ¡°I knew how to beat you from the start, Nkechi. Now I''m going to blow you into a thousand pieces.¡±


    Spin Bomb snapped a string on the ground, and with gloved hands, as if catching a fish, tried to wrap the sharp thread around the sage''s neck. Her opponent waited until the last moment until the line almost fell over her neck. With her scissor-like fingers, she spread Ax¨¦ on her fingers. She caught the string and took the sharp line for herself.


    Spin Bomb threw the string away. Quickly, flush, she lit several green juniper bombs and threw dozens of them at Nkechi. Like a bombardment, they fell on her opponent. These explosives had a high combustion mixture. The flames rose into the air like a fire mushroom, which then turned into a cross of gray smoke.


    Rain fell on Spin Bomb. She extinguished the torch and confidently turned away. However, she heard hurried footsteps behind her.


    ¡°Never turn your back on the enemy.¡±


    Spin Bomb couldn''t help herself, and was punched in the face, knocking her into the wall. Her body crashed into the rocks and ran down the stone steps. She stared at her furious opponent.


    Nkechi replied with a smile. The rainwater had soothed the sting on his face, and his vision was starting to improve.


    Spin Bomb stood up. She realized that her opponent''s vision had become clearer, but not enough to react quickly. The spread of Axe around her entire body had consumed a lot of energy, and had minimized the effects of the explosions. Akachi''s ally considered that she still had the advantage.


    In order to be in Nkechi''s sight, the artisan set off several firework swords with yellowish junipers, and in between them, some high-powered explosives and threw them at the sage. To Spin Bomb''s surprise, she managed to dodge both types of explosive.


    ¡°You''re not going to hit me with those little children''s toys.¡±


    ¡°That''s not possible, how did you manage to dodge?¡±


    ¡°It''s true, I can''t see the colors or shape of the explosives you''re throwing at me, but each one makes a sound. These fast bombs are hard to dodge, but they emit a high-pitched, annoying whistle. The others are heavy, slow to fall and emit a crackling hiss. Distinguishing the sounds, it''s not difficult to dodge...¡±


    ¡°Then dodge it, bitch!¡±


    Spin Bomb tied strands of cerol into fast-moving explosives towards the sage. Nkechi tried to escape a second time, but was as unsuccessful as before. By manipulating the cutting lines, the invader changed the trajectory of the firework swords in real time. They became projectiles that were impossible to deflect.


    The explosives hit Nkechi''s stomach and temple like the punches of a boxing champion. The medium fell down the steps feeling the pain of being hit at high speed by the firework swords.

 Song 126: Family reunion - Part 11

    After the Masters of Suspicion broke with the Circle of Sages, three spiritual keys were left without a bearer. The unprecedented event caused a minor internal crisis in the clans. The clans looked for different ways to solve the problem. The situation was most serious in the Evolution Clan.


    The ex-sage Mashal was considered the most skillful of the clan, and the only one capable of curbing their conflicts. Within this extended family, there were several factions fighting not only for the leadership of the clan or the spiritual key, they were plotting against the state.


    The monarchists, who had been taken in by the royal family, wanted to strengthen the king in exchange for favors in the future. They disliked both the other clans and the growing influence of Minister Ojwang in the government.


    The traditionalists, on the other hand, sought to reaffirm the power of the mediums, and were reformists, no less exalted in their political positions.


    The legalists sought a moderate position, did not want the implosion of a civil war, and sought to maintain the integrity of the government. They did not ignore the pressures of the mediums, Ojwang''s political movements or the fragility of the Clan of Evolution at that time.


    Whoever had possession of the Spiritual Key of Evolution would determine the future of the clan. Young Nkechi knew this, and although she wanted clan unity, she was considered too weak as a medium, and too legalistic even among the legalists. Despite her pleas to become the next Sage of Evolution, she was denied. At a meeting between the suitors, the elders denied her the post.


    ¡°For what reason?¡±


    The elders looked at each other, thinking the question was some kind of joke. The other suitors in the clan laughed.


    ¡°What are you laughing at, you idiots?¡±


    One of those present, with the look of a snake, licked his tongue and retorted:


    ¡°If a medium like you became our leader, we''d be an embarrassment to the other clans, and our position would be weakened.¡±


    Nkechi stood up, there were about two hundred people in the meeting hall. She raised her finger and turned three hundred and sixty degrees around. The suitors began to get restless. The girl put her hand on her waist and shouted in a boastful manner:


    ¡°I challenge you for possession of the Key of Evolution. Whoever wants it, just come for my hand.¡±


    The leaders were stunned by her petulance. It was like signing a death warrant. Nkechi was known as the ugly duckling of mediumship. She was incapable of performing Of¨®, the technique of changing nature, reality and being by channeling Ax¨¦ through words. Her presence was tolerated, but never respected.


    She was like a reminder of what disability could do to a medium. Even if she modeled Ax¨¦ perfectly and used the basic properties, the old mediums considered her a waste.


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    One of the elders called for order in the room and said, scratching his beard:


    ¡°Sit down, you insolent girl! We''re not the Force Clan to act like savages. There will be no duels for possession of the Spiritual Key of Evolution.¡±


    An old woman who was part of the trio of leaders lined her robe and said with irony in her voice:


    ¡°There won''t be a dispute over the spiritual key. That''s the foolishness of a reckless young woman. Even if you were up against those two hundred elite mediums, how would you beat them, my foolish child?¡±


    Nkechi doubled his bet. He tapped the sole of his foot firmly on the ground and took up a fighting stance in a defiant tone.


    ¡°Two hundred elite mediums against a medium who doesn''t know how to use a single Of¨®¡­ I think you have the upper hand.¡±


    After this provocation, the order of the room was broken. Furious at this intrusion into the future of the clan, all the mediums got up from their seats. They summoned all their Ax¨¦. It wouldn''t be a duel, it would be a massacre. The fury contained by formalities erupted into hatred and prejudice.


    There would be no more respect for tradition, it would just be a battle royal, a relentless knockout until only one was left standing.


    Nkechi spread his Ax¨¦, and did as he had done without his training. He modeled an intense plasma mist. Within it, the medium could create any shape, a theater of illusions that fooled her opponents'' senses. She had been underestimated by the clan, segregated within her own family, and now she would pay the price.


    The clan leaders were oblivious to what was going on in the dense fog. They heard screams, the clang of sharp weapons and bodies crashing into each other. One of the elders got up from his seat and tried to see what was going on in the plasma mist. The purplish color and its electric glow obscured his vision.


    ¡°But¡­ what''s going on? Nkechi, stop!¡±


    She ignored him. She wasn''t going to end it until the last medium had fallen at her feet. When the mist dissolved, she was on her feet, without a scratch. All her opponents lay unconscious on the floor. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with her index finger and declared in an imperative tone:


    ¡°Give me the Spiritual Key of Evolution now, or you will meet the same fate as them!¡±


    The elders stood admiring Nkechi, a medium of whom they were unaware of any potential. In a single strange movement, she had defeated an entire caste of experienced warriors.


    ?


    Nkechi got up from the steps. He wiped a stubborn trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. He had watered enough to clear his eyeballs for good. In front of her was Spin Bomb, with an unfriendly face, but alert enough not to be taken by surprise.


    There was a certain smugness in her gaze. The wise woman knew that feeling. Taking that feeling away from her opponent would be too cruel. The medium pulled herself together and gave her opponent an order:


    ¡°Go away, girl! Help Akachi.¡±


    ¡°Huh! You want me to leave?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I''ve been defeated by a terrorist. That''s enough!¡±


    ¡°I''m not a terrorist! What kind of trap is this?¡±


    ¡°I won''t attack you from behind, it''s not my style. You neutralized me before I launched my plasma mist. There''s no point in continuing this fight. I underestimated you and paid the price. One day I was underestimated too, I should have learned something that day, but I was too proud for that.¡±


    ¡°Me, huh! What a crazy woman, bye!¡±


    ¡°Why, you¡­¡±


    Spin Bomb ignored her completely and left her enemy behind. But before she could get out of sight, she turned to Nkechi and said:


    ¡°Thanks, I guess.¡±


    The Sage of Evolution made no reply. She let Spin Bomb run away, summoned the rest of her Ax¨¦ and snarled between her teeth:


    ¡°I hate prying! Who are you?¡±


    The curtain of purplish ionized gas rose into the air. The plasma mist projected the silhouette of a cyborg figure. The invader revealed her identity.


    ¡°I was waiting for one of you to die, but it seems you noticed me first.¡±


    ¡°You people from Ilu Nla''s Cyber Troop should stop meddling in mediums'' affairs.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately for you, I''m not from the Cyber Troop. I''m Nebula No. 2 of the Ghost Troop in the service of General Luena.¡±


    Nkechi replied with a contemptuous smile. The two set off against each other. The medium generated a dozen copies of her opponent. The military officer was unresponsive, unaware of her opponent''s abilities. Her detection system was down. There would be no reinforcements. She would have to rely exclusively on strategy.

 Song 127: Family reunion - Part 12

    The rain poured down like a deluge. Thunder rumbled rhythmically in the sky. It left the top of Judgement Rock submerged in a gloomy atmosphere. The pair''s hurried footsteps splashed the water running down the stone staircase.


    Feruzi and Mashal arrived at the desired location. Two figures revealed themselves to the invaders. One was on his knees. His arms were tied to heavy chains like a Promethean figure. The second was standing with his back to the newcomers. He didn''t seem interested in them.


    The ex-sages stopped. Lightning cracked the sky with a yellowish light. Adisa''s face appeared pale. Weakened as he was, he didn''t react at all when he saw the elders.


    Feruzi was horrified by the situation of Ilu Nla''s great scientist.


    ¡°Adisa, is it really you?¡±


    Azekel''s son looked at him with a trickle of drool running from the corner of his mouth.


    ¡°For Fante Obataiye! What have you done to him, Ekundayo?¡±


    The leader of the Circle of Sages turned to the elderly duo. His face was a stony mask. An immense aura of Ax¨¦ enveloped him.


    ¡°I didn''t do anything he didn''t deserve.¡±


    Feruzi took a couple of steps forward. He waved the sleeve of his robe and shouted:


    ¡°You weren''t that kind of person, Ekundayo. What''s the difference between the Circle of Sages and the Phalanx?¡±


    ¡°Don''t lecture me! The Masters of Suspicion abandoned Ilu Nla when the nation needed them most.¡±


    ¡°Ilu Nla was already steeped in corruption, turned its back on its elders, and forgot its ancestors. We had no chance!¡±


    ¡°There would have been if they hadn''t chickened out. A life was lost because of you.¡±


    Mashal put a hand on Feruzi''s shoulder. He shook his head. The old medium considered the exchange of accusations pointless. Everyone has a conviction and several contradictions. Nyatui, Mashal and Feruzi had been discredited by Ojwang. All the evidence they had was in the hands of one person, and that person was dead.


    Feruzi bit his lips hard. The words of the Sage of Justice were like a guilty sentence for the old medium.


    ¡°Feruzi, don''t fall for that snake''s words. We can''t waste time, we have to save Adisa.¡±


    After hearing his friend''s words, Feruzi regained consciousness. Together with him, he prepared an attack.


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    However, before they could hit him, his opponent raised both arms in the air and recited:


    ¡°Hall of Expiation.¡±


    A mass of darkness appeared behind the sage. Like a curtain, it covered the top of the Judgement Stone like a vault of shadows. After the dense darkness subsided, Feruzi and his partner saw where they were.


    It was like an Egyptian temple from the Ancient Empire, almost 2700 BC, with slate walls, and high-relief images in colors of jade, lapis lazuli, ivory, ruby and other precious stones. The figures represented cosmogony, the process of colonization of the lands of Ilu Nla and their wars of conquest. All fourteen Entities were represented.


    Surrounding the room were kemetic columns with sacred writings engraved in bas-relief. The inscriptions revolved on their surface as if they were alive. At the back was a polished stone altar with a huge silver scale on top. Behind the altar was Adisa, suspended in the air, his arms and legs attached to chains that bound him to the wall. His head hung to one side and his eyes had closed.


    Ekundayo appeared in front of the altar. In his right hand was a falcon feather.


    ¡°Feather of Truth!¡±


    He blew the feather into his hand. It floated into the air and landed on one of the scales. The balance tipped with a metallic clang. The birch where the feather lay gave way.


    ¡°May you masters of suspicion be blamed for everything you''ve done to Ilu Nla. Come to me, Sword of Life and Death.¡±


    The leader of the Circle of Sages raised a hand in the air, and a great concentration of Ax¨¦ gathered in the palm of his hand. The accumulated essence took the shape of an ankh. The ansata cross was a golden sword, but instead of a handle, there was an oval loop. This loop was adorned with mystical runes.


    Feruzi shivered, he had never seen that Of¨® before. Even with his vast experience in mediumship, the existence of this ability had frightened him. The Hall of Expiation was an area-of-effect Of¨®, used exclusively by the Justice Clan, created in the early years of its formation.


    Difficult to master, it required a CAPR-type mediumistic profile, capable of concentrating one''s own Ax¨¦ and attracting the Ax¨¦ present in nature to carry out effects.


    ¡°I never imagined that before I died I would see the Sword of Life and Death.¡±


    ¡°Don''t admire the enemy, Feruzi. We must finish him off or Adisa will die.¡±


    ¡°Right! The trinity is one and perfect, complementary in its vastness. I serve three wise infants, who fill my days with knowledge and fortune. Ekon, Iregi and Suluhu, who investigate everything with their curiosity, give me your knowledge. Firm spirits.¡±


    ¡°Ewansiha, you lazy man, I need you! Ewansiha, the observer of plenitude. The one who sought knowledge for the realization of Evolution, may your power shake the structures of the earth on which I stand. Make your enemy know the truth. Firm the spirit.¡±


    Ekundayo laughed. Feruzi and Mashal, no matter how correctly they had recited Oriki and distended the vibration of their inner portals, had not managed to steady the ancestral spirits.


    The ex-sage of Evolution looked around, disconcerted. He couldn''t feel Ewansiha''s Ax¨¦ anywhere.


    ¡°Damn it, what''s going on? My Ori Guardian has ignored me.¡±


    Ekundayo walked a few steps towards him, evolving the Sword of Life and Death. His movements produced a sound like an ominous moan.


    Feruzi and Mashal took a few steps back. Their respective Ori Guardians would be at a great disadvantage against a sage.


    ¡°In the Hall of Expiation, you cannot establish a spirit. Here, I am the lord of life and death. This is the liminal space between the world of the living and the world of the dead.¡±


    ¡°Well, if that''s so...¡±


    Mashal put one knee on the ground and drummed his fingers on the floor. He would try to attract as much Ax¨¦ as possible from the environment to perform his Of¨®. He would have a numerical advantage.


    ¡°It''s not working, how can it?¡±


    ¡°The walls of the Hall Expiation don''t allow the Ax¨¦ present here to be attracted to the medium. On the contrary, it absorbs the Ax¨¦ of the judged. No matter how hard you fight, you will die by my hands or from exhaustion.¡±


    Feruzi rolled up the sleeves of his turquoise tunic and revealed his forearms with zimbas scarred into his skin. Before he could act, Ekundayo turned into a dark cloud, dissolved into thin air, and came up behind the ex-sage and hit him with a cross sword from below.


    Mashal tried to attack him from behind, but he used the same trick and dodged. The old medium noticed that there was no bleeding on his companion''s body.


    Feruzi groped around for his body; he hadn''t received any damage. Then he bulged his eyes and spat blood on the floor.


    If he didn''t hurt my body, then he did¡­

 Song 128: Family reunion - Part 13

    ¡°What kind of monster are you?¡±


    Nebula No. 4 was kneeling. Part of its cybernetic armor was destroyed. One of its arms had been torn off, and half of its face had been damaged. Throughout her body, electrical and semiconductor wires were emitting sparks. Blood dripped from the armor''s maintenance fluids. In his trembling hand was the Spiritual Key of Evolution.


    In front of him was Nkechi. She was lying face down on the ground. Her smile showed her satisfaction at that moment.


    ¡°What a shame, you''re still alive!¡±


    ¡°No¡­ it doesn''t matter, I got¡­ the spirit key¡­¡±


    As he said this, he activated stealth mode, activated his thrusters and disappeared from Nkechi''s sight. Before he died, he dipped the tip of his index finger in his pool of blood and wrote on the floor ''There are intruders at the party''. He turned his head to the side and died.


    ?


    Akachi walked up the stairs. Every time he wanted to run, he felt a twinge in his muscles. His arms and legs felt heavier. He wouldn''t give up. He was close to meeting his father again, he wanted to see Adisa''s face again.


    The rain dripped down his dark skin, the sensation of pain increasing. The torrent pouring down the stairs made walking slippery. The young medium felt a great danger lurking around the Judgement Stone. It was as if he was being watched by predators.


    His knees weakened. The teenager almost fell to the ground, resting one hand on the rocky wall. He heard a repeated splashing sound from behind. He turned with his hands on guard.


    ¡°Fadala!¡±


    The hitman approached carefully and helped the young man to his feet. He wrapped an arm around Akachi''s waist and helped him walk.


    ¡°I feared for your life, my friend. The battle against your opponent must have been a great challenge. The wise Jabir is dead.¡±


    ¡°Dead? I didn''t give him a coup de grace. I didn''t want him to die.¡±


    ¡°He was very old, Akachi. He might not have been able to take the strain, that or¡­¡±


    ¡°That or what?¡±


    ¡°I believe there is a third force at work in this conflict.¡±


    Akachi felt a shiver run down his spine. He was saddened to hear that old Jabir had died. He had been his adversary, but he didn''t consider him his enemy. The gunman''s words echoed in his head. Fadala was an agent of Il¨º Apanyan, someone with enough experience to make such a judgment.


    They continued walking with effort to where Nkechi''s body lay. The sage was lying on the floor. On the wall, there was an inscription that was ruddy and smudged with rainwater.


    ¡°What''s that?¡±


    ¡°The certainty that my suspicions were right. It says ''there are intruders at the party''.¡±


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    ¡°Men from Ojwang¡­¡±


    ¡°It could even be a general from the Phalanx.¡±


    ¡°They wouldn''t bother coming in person, they''d send the Phalangites.¡±


    ¡°Even if they''re not here, Akachi, they''re close. They''re taking advantage of our battles to execute us all.¡±


    ¡°Killing two birds with one stone.¡±


    A huge burst of energy echoed in the air, followed by a tremor. The pair raised their heads to the sky. A dark dome appeared at the top of the Judgement Stone. Akachi untangled himself from Fadala''s arm, raised one hand with his fingers over his forehead and tried to get a better look at the phenomenon.


    ¡°What is that thing?¡±


    The mortician was amazed. He had traveled to the four corners of the world and seen admirable things. However, nothing had compared to his stay in Ilu Nla. Mediumship had shattered all his notions up to that point.


    Akachi turned to Fadala. His face showed a sense of anguish.


    ¡°That''s a massive sphere of Ax¨¦. I don''t have enough sensitivity, but it looks like there are people inside.¡±


    ¡°Come on, Akachi!¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    The pair hurried their steps. Fadala didn''t have a father, so he understood the will that drove Akachi.


    Azekel''s grandson walked up the stone steps with a single resolution: to hug his father. He hadn''t planned what to say, he hardly knew how to react. If Adisa was in the dark dome, he would rescue him from inside, no matter what the cost, even if it meant his life.


    After reaching the top, the pair saw Spin Bomb lying on the ground. She was wheezing heavily and the smell of gunpowder stunk up the air. Akachi noticed that she had taken off her gloves. On the back of her hands, there were scars that glowed red, as if blood had run down them. He ran towards her to help her up.


    ¡°Spin Bomb, are you all right? What happened?¡±


    The firework sword maker had a jolt. With one hand on her chest, she pushed Akachi away.


    ¡°What a fright! You bastard. Ah, Fadala, you''re there too¡­¡±


    The mortician approached her. He helped her up from the ground. Unlike Akachi, he noticed that the scars were zimbas. Instead of being written with pemba, the chalk was conical and rounded. With the pemba, the secrecy of the Scratched Dot Magic was temporary. The magical characters had been made with pyrovragous scarification, that is, made on the skin with fire.


    Feruzi had taught a variant of this mediumistic art called Fire Point Magic, using fundanga, the sacred name for gunpowder.


    The zimbas in Spin Bomb''s hands allowed him to guide the trajectory of his explosives that had a corresponding sign scratched into them, allowed him to detonate the bombs with the snap of his fingers from a distance, as well as controlling the wires with total freedom. This had been the result of his training with the ex-sage of Knowledge.


    ¡°I got here and heard a tremor. This dark ball appeared and I couldn''t see anything else.¡±


    ¡°It must have tried to get in¡­¡±


    ¡°No way! I bombed the shit out of it and it wouldn''t budge.¡±


    ¡°Let me try.¡±


    Fadala raised his pistols and fired several shots into the dark dome. The bullets ricocheted back. Spin Bomb gave a high-pitched scream and threw himself to the ground with his hands over his head. Akachi hid behind the hitman.


    The girl got up from the ground, grabbed the collar of the gunman''s suit and screamed as she shook him:


    ¡°You want to kill us, do you?¡±


    Akachi walked towards the dome, and Fenyang came up behind him. The Ori Guardian said:


    This thing seems to have a life of its own.


    I feel like my father is in there, my friend.


    Entering this thing could be your death sentence, Akachi. But it''s your choice, bro.


    Fenyang, I''m very close to seeing my father again. I have many things to ask and many things to hear.


    You have every reason to follow.


    ¡°Firm the spirit.¡±


    The Ori Guardian was incorporated by the medium. The young man walked towards the dark dome. He held out his hand slowly. His fingertips stretched towards the mass of Ax¨¦.


    Spin Bomb held his breath and Fadala kept his pistols cocked in the direction of the phenomenon.


    Upon touching the mass of energy, Akachi was repelled meters away, and his Ori Guardian was disembodied. A dark smoke began to rise from his body. The young man soon understood what it was.


    Fadala lowered his pistols and ran towards his friend. He helped him to his feet.


    ¡°What''s wrong, Akachi?¡±


    ¡°That thing won''t let any spirits in.¡±


    Spin Bomb put his hands on his head and huffed angrily.


    ¡°Can we at least get in?¡±


    ¡°I think so. But there''s no guarantee we''ll be back.¡±


    ¡°Those who stand in the rain should get wet.¡±


    The girl shook her head, and droplets of rain splashed everywhere. She filled her hands with several firework swords.


    ¡°Let''s detonate!¡±


    Fadala and Akachi looked at each other. There was no reason for optimism. But they would not be defeated. The trio stood next to the dark dome and, at the same time, took a step towards the inside of the Ax¨¦ sphere.

 Song 129: Your blessing, father

    Crossing the Ax¨¦ Dome was like falling into a pool full of ice cubes. The trio seemed to have entered another dimension. Their senses were disturbed. Disorientation took control of their bodies. Spin Bomb was the most affected and tripped over her own legs.


    Akachi supported her; he himself was being affected by the place. It was as if his strength had been sucked out of him.


    ¡°Spin Bomb, are you all right?¡±


    ¡°I feel sick.¡±


    He hugged his abdomen and knelt on the floor. She bent forward and bit her lips. The atmosphere was too intense for her.


    Fadala looked around and saw the pair of ex-sages lying on the stone floor. He pointed at the old mediums and said:


    ¡°Akachi, look.¡±


    Azekel''s grandson ran towards the men lying on the ground. He knelt down next to Feruzi, carefully raised his head and removed his hood. The old man, his eyes dull, rolled his pupils. He grabbed the boy''s shirt collar and, between coughs, spoke:


    ¡°Take¡­ cof-cof¡­ your father, and, cof¡­ run away from this place, kid.¡±


    ¡°I can''t let you¡­ wait! My father?¡±


    Akachi gently let go of Feruzi''s hand. He got up from the ground and looked at what was behind the altar. The figure of the man in chains with his head down made his heart pound. A mixture of emotions crashed over her body like a tsunami.


    His eyes filled with tears. Her hands shook. Her wrists clenched to the point where her nails dug into her flesh. The scream stuck in her throat could no longer be contained. Akachi opened his mouth.


    Everything happened with lightning speed. Ekundayo appeared in front of him, mystical sword in hand, and struck a blow at Akachi. However, Fadala appeared with two pistols drawn in the shape of an X to parry the blow. The Sword of Life and Death made a cross-cut from top to bottom on the undertaker.


    The hitman''s eyes roamed over his body. Not a single cut was visible, not a drop of blood had escaped from his body. He lay motionless, as if his soul had been stripped bare.


    The Sage of Justice was amazed at Fadala''s speed. Even for a man from the Il¨º Apanyan, such agility in the Hall of Expiation was inconceivable.


    ¡°FATHER!¡±


    The word echoed in the air as if it had been uttered in a choir.


    The man hanging by his chains slowly raised his head. That ever-dark spot on his father''s face in Akachi''s memories took on an outline, a clear image. It was the face of Adisa, his father.


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    ¡°My father, is that you?¡±


    His head swiveled from side to side as if he were delirious. His eyes were nowhere to be seen.


    ¡°Uoh¡­¡±


    ¡°Dad, it''s me, Akachi!¡±


    The boy began to walk, slowly, but he didn''t tighten his shirt around his chest. Confused emotions materialized in crystal-clear tears.


    Azekel''s son couldn''t understand where he was. He babbled nonsense.


    ¡°Where am I?¡±


    ¡°Dad, listen to me, I''m going to get you out of there!¡±


    ¡°You won''t!¡±


    Ekundayo evolved his blade, slash!, and made a horizontal slash at Akachi. The boy let out a cry of pain. It was as if the whole weight of the world had collapsed on his spirit.


    ¡°It hurts, doesn''t it? Imagine all the pain it caused hitting you full on. Could you take it, Akachi?¡±


    ¡°UARGH! Dad, don''t give up¡­¡±


    ¡°Don''t give up? You''re all already dead.¡±


    Akachi gritted his teeth, swallowed the pain like a bitter pill, and continued walking. A second blow struck him in the side. A second time, the pain consumed him from the inside out.


    ¡°No one can resist the pain they have caused. There is justice in that truth.¡±


    The young medium continued to pray for his father. At the same time, he was struck by several sword blows from Ekundayo. Gradually, Akachi''s body began to bend, to walk more and more slowly. But he never stopped walking towards his father.


    The sage struck with other blows. He hit him so many times that his arms began to ache. He grabbed Akachi by the neck and looked into his eyes. But the son''s eyes only stared at his father.


    ¡°Arf-arf¡­ you bastard, why don''t you give up?¡±


    He pushed him hard towards the altar. The boy hit the basin, tumbled over it and fell on the other side, at his father''s feet. Akachi raised his bloodied hands. He wanted to touch his father, but Ekundayo teleported to where the boy was and kicked him several times in the head.


    ¡°Dad¡­¡±


    The voice came out pasty. The sage squatted down beside him. His face was full of contempt. Bewildered, Akachi''s hands tried to climb the wall.


    ¡°I don''t know who''s worse, you or your father? It doesn''t matter, the wages of traitors is death.¡±


    Ekundayo fashioned an iron thorn with his Ax¨¦, and pointed the weapon at his opponent''s head. Before he could fire, tlunc was hit in the back of the head by a blow from Fadala.


    ¡°Not so fast.¡±


    ¡°Argh! How are you still standing after being cut by my sword?¡±


    ¡°At first I thought it was strange, you didn''t cut my body, but my soul.¡±


    Fadala put a knee on the neck and arm of the sage who was clutching the Sword of Life and Death. Ekundayo was immobilized. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.


    ¡°You should be dead now. A hitman like you should be dead from feeling all the pain of his victims.¡±


    ¡°Maybe it only works with those who feel guilt for the pain they''ve caused. I don''t feel any.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, you undertakers are ''God''s emissaries on earth''. Don''t make me laugh. Even if I don''t die by my blade, the Hall of Expiation will do it for me."


    ¡°Only over my dead body!¡±


    Fadala smashed the cheek of the foul-mouthed medium with the barrel of his pistol. Ekundayo felt a mixture of humiliation and anger.


    ¡°Akachi, save your father.¡±


    Azekel''s grandson got up from the floor. Foot by foot, he reached the wall. Stumbling, he raised his head. It throbbed and his vision seemed to fail. He raised his hands. He grabbed his father''s legs. The man looked at him with confused eyes. Akachi said sweetly:


    ¡°My father¡­ forgive me. I never thanked you for the sacrifice you made for me. I acted as if you were to blame for my illness. I¡­ I''ve been an idiot all this time. I don''t want to die without saying¡­ I LOVE YOU!¡±


    Adisa''s eyes brightened. Gradually, her consciousness made the whole situation clearer. A warm feeling welled up in her heart. It was like being born a second time. Her eyes searched until they met the eyes of her only son.


    ¡°Akachi¡­ is that you, my son? Thanks to Fante Obataye. Don''t apologize, it was all my fault. I felt guilty about your mother''s death, I never communicated well with you¡­¡±


    ¡°Don''t talk, save your strength.¡±


    Akachi emanated his Ax¨¦ through his father''s body, and the patterned chains were extinguished. His father''s body levitated to the ground. They both stood facing each other. All words seemed to escape. They laughed together. Shyly, Akachi held out his hand to Adisa.


    ¡°Your blessing, father.¡±

 Song 130: May God bless you

    ¡°May God bless you.¡±


    Adisa raised her arms towards her son. Tears welled up in Akachi''s eyes. Father and son approached each other for a hug, but they grew further and further apart. It was as if the space between them was filled with a vast emptiness.


    ¡°Gravitational Constitution.¡±


    The young medium felt the atmosphere around him become concave. He could have sworn he was only a few steps away from his father. But now, it was as if a universe of distance had separated the two of them.


    ¡°Argh! What is that?¡±


    ¡°How beautiful! Father and son reunited. This is the time for personal redemption.¡±


    Right in front of Akachi stood the figure of Hakim, the Sage of the Law. He was drenched in sweat, as if he had worked hard to get there.


    With an effort, Ekundayo raised his head. He looked at his companion and laughed:


    ¡°It took too long, Hakim. I thought you wouldn''t come. I was worried you wouldn''t make it up the stairs.¡±


    ¡°If you weren''t already as humiliated as you are now, I''d kick your skinny ass. Where has a sage ever been dominated by a mortician, what a shame!¡±


    Akachi didn''t know whether to face the opponent in front of him, or try to protect his father. Before he could react, Hakim used one of his Of¨®.


    ¡°Electromagnetic Decree.¡±


    The sage opened his arms in the shape of a cross, and an electromagnetic current exploded around him. Akachi was thrown a distance. Adisa was smashed against the wall. Fadala and the Sage of Justice were also hit, and fell far away. Spin Bomb remained unconscious on the floor.


    Azekel''s grandson realized that Hakim''s Of¨® had the same effect as old Jabir''s Of¨®. It was like being repelled by a huge magnet. Despite his aching body, the teenager got up from the ground. He raised both hands around his body and tried to shape two sticks of Ax¨¦ energy. The dome absorbed the Ax¨¦ before he could succeed.


    ¡°But what?¡±


    ¡°The Hall of Expiation absorbs the Ax¨¦ of all those trapped inside it.¡±


    ¡°Yours too, even.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but my Ax¨¦ reserves are greater than yours. Electromagnetic Decree.¡±


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    Akachi soon realized what his opponent was doing. He concentrated as much Ax¨¦ as possible in his legs so that the excess weight would create the anchor effect.


    ¡°The medium doesn''t come to the mountain, the mountain goes to the medium. Gravitational constitution.¡±


    Adisa''s son heard the sound of breaking glass. Time-space bowed before him. The space between him and Hakim became as small as the thread of a needle. The sage prepared a punch and aimed it at Akachi''s chest. The boy thought quickly. He reversed the Ax¨¦ accumulated in his legs and spread them out in front of his body like a shield.


    ¡°Statute of Minor Force.¡±


    Hakim''s fist was reversed with massive Ax¨¦ energy. It turned into a radiation glove capable of melting the purest reinforced steel.


    Scrinch! The sound was similar to a diamond scratching a glass tumbler. Akachi pulled back just enough to catch his breath.


    ¡°You escaped, what do you know!¡±


    Akachi hadn''t dodged the blow, only deflected it by a few centimeters. The effects of the proximity of the radiation could not be avoided. The skin on his chest became dry; he had suffered acute dehydration. The young man''s blood pressure changed and he began to suffer nosebleeds.


    The boy felt nauseous and dizzy. Blood flowed through his veins like overheated mercury. He had a severe headache. He didn''t give up. He raised his arms as if he were going to fight. His eyesight was the hardest hit by Of¨®. He saw everything around him bend.


    ¡°How are you feeling, buddy? Do you still intend to carry on?¡±


    Akachi tried to throw a punch, but nothing hit. Hakim was too far away to be hit by the young medium''s limp arms.


    ¡°Amazing what radiation can do, isn''t it? You squeeze the nucleus of the atom and force it to emit waves and particles, and booom! Chemistry and physics do the rest.¡±


    ¡°Ughs¡­ I''m not going to¡­ hand over the spiritual key to someone like you¡­¡±


    ¡°I''m not asking, I''m taking it for myself. Resolution of the Force Majeure.¡±


    Hakim raised his right hand and held his forearm with the other. His Ax¨¦ began to converge on a single point on his hand until it became a sphere of Ax¨¦ energy. It was as if a small sun was shining in his hand.


    ¡°Ekundayo said that the Spiritual Key of Faith is fused with your body and spirit. But with this strong nuclear interaction in my hand, I''m going to use energy trillions and trillions and trillions of times greater than the force of the planet''s gravity.¡±


    Akachi raised his face and concentrated as much Ax¨¦ as he could muster on himself. It was a desperate attempt to survive. One hand held the key to his chest and whispered:


    ¡°I know, I''m not worthy to carry the Spiritual Key of Faith. But there must be a reason why I''m here. I want to save my father, my friends. I''m going to honor the mission you''ve given me¡­¡±


    The key in Akachi''s chest turned clockwise once. His body bent. A strange reddish light was emitted from his eyes and mouth. A dense spiritual aura overtook his body. The frail posture changed to someone preparing to strike a sword blow.


    The medium put his right foot forward, his left foot further back. Both hands were joined at the waist, as if they were holding the blade. Gradually, a blade like a machete began to materialize. The handle was white and the blade black with a red glow. Electric sparks snaked across the blade. He sheathed it and prepared for a counterattack.


    Hakim watched the phenomenon in awe. His opponent should no longer have the energy to stand, let alone model Ax¨¦ or embody a spirit.


    ¡°You''re hastening your death, Akachi. You''d better give up, if you hand over the key¡­¡±


    ¡°Why would we hand over what has always been ours?¡±


    The voice came out with two tones, Akachi''s voice and that of a mature woman.


    ¡°Who or what are you?¡±


    ¡°Younger people don''t recognize older people anymore. Do you know who I am? I''m the one who was born on a stormy night. Who speaks like thunder, who emits lightning from her eyes and rides the lightning. I am Iyamesan, the one who splits enemies into nine pieces.¡±


    Hakim felt his whole body tremble. But he could go no further. It was all or nothing.


    ¡°Even if I am one of the fourteen Entities of Ilu Nla, I can''t let a brat like that ruin everything we''ve built.¡±


    ¡°I have faith in him. If I can''t believe in this boy, I won''t believe in anything anymore. Come Sage of the Law, don''t let me wait any longer.¡±


    Hakim advanced against Akachi, the medium who had incorporated an Entity within himself. Iyamesan waited until the last moment to strike his opponent.

 Song 131: Respect the elderly!

    Akachi swung a sword. The sound of a clangor echoed in the room. The blow reverberated in the air like a great electrical discharge that took the form of a reddish, translucent blade. The blade struck Hakim. For a few seconds, time froze.


    ¡°Nine Fractions of the Sky.¡±


    Time returned to normal. The crescent-shaped blade acquired seven more arms and became a nine-pointed star. The sphere of Ax¨¦ energy in the sage''s hands dissolved in a high-pitched sound.


    The Ax¨¦ dome was shattered. An enormous pulse of energy shot towards Hakim. The Sage, Ekundayo and Fadala were thrown into the stands. A hot wind swept through the area around the Judgement Stone.


    Hakim felt like an exhausted heap. The side effect of the Of¨® thrown at him was visible. An incessant current of electricity clamped down on his muscles. His lower and upper limbs were in constant spasms. It was as if he had been hit by a bullet train.


    ¡°Damn it, Ekundayo, did you write down the license plate of that thing?¡±


    The Sage of Justice raised his head with difficulty. He felt a bitter taste of impotence.


    ¡°What are you talking about, you idiot, that was an Of¨® issued by an Entity. We''re lucky we''re still alive.¡±


    Akachi, with Iyamesan incorporated, stomped down hard on Hakim''s head. The medium couldn''t see the attack coming, without sensing his attacker''s presence. He didn''t have the strength to fight back. It was a humiliating position.


    ¡°There''s a reason you''re still alive. I didn''t strike you with my sword in its sheath. Thank Akachi for his mercy.¡±


    Ekundayo''s jaw dropped as the truth was revealed. Fadala found that display of power absurd, which made his bones tremble for the first time in his life. Hakim knew he was defeated, but he didn''t know what fate the Entity would decide for the Circle of Sages.


    ¡°What will you do with us, madam?¡±


    ¡°I''ve already given my lesson. I won''t let shitty sages like you decide Akachi''s fate. He''s my direct ancestor, and as his ancestor, I''ll take care of him.¡±


    ¡°Uragh!¡±


    Akachi rubbed the sole of his foot against Hakim''s face until the blood began to flow again.


    ¡°Please stop!¡±


    ¡°Akachi represents the Faith of Ilu Nla, he is our chosen one to carry this value forward. The Spiritual Key of Faith belongs to him, it''s our clan''s inheritance, don''t interfere with it!¡±


    ¡°All right, we surrender.¡±


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    ¡°Poor medium, have you ever been told that ''the weakness of youth is to ignore the experience of elders''! He who denies tradition has forgotten the face of his ancestors. Your real enemy is called Ojwang. You should ally yourselves instead of fighting each other. It is division that weakens the whole.¡±


    ¡°We¡­ understand, ma''am, we''re going to help this blessed boy. Now, please, get your foot out of my face!¡±


    ¡°You are bold, Sage of the Law. Between the divinized ancestors and the Circle of Sages there is an ocean of distance. I don''t have any more time to humiliate you and Ekundayo¡­¡±


    Akachi rolled his eyes and fell to the ground. Hakim soon realized that his opponent was incapable of holding an Entity in his body for long.


    Adisa ran towards her son. She knelt down beside the teenager and lifted his head. She patted his face lightly.


    ¡°SON!¡±


    Ekundayo crawled closer to Hakim. He realized that his companion had not been mortally wounded.


    ¡°He''s not hurt, just exhausted.¡±


    ¡°Don''t come, get away from us¡­¡±


    Adisa hugged her son tightly. She laid her face against Akachi''s hair. She stroked his cheek and shed warm tears that made the boy smile, even though he was unconscious.


    Fadala stood up, took out a herbal cigarette and lit it. Spin Bomb, Feruzi and Mashal came up behind Azekel''s son.


    Fenyang was sitting on the bleachers. His legs were stretched out, his body propped up on his elbows. He stared up at the sky. There were ambivalent feelings inside him. He hadn''t helped at all in that battle, but he was happy to see the reunion between father and son. As a spirit, he no longer had a family to return to, no one was waiting for him.


    He looked up at the sky, which was no longer cloudy. The sun was already setting. The clouds shone with lilac and pink stripes after the rain. A rainbow was forming in the distance. Fenyang felt as if he was no longer needed in this world. Perhaps the time had come to go to the spirit world.


    ¡°I know what you''re thinking, but don''t leave him now, you''re a good Ori Guardian.¡±


    The maculel¨º master looked around him. He saw Iyamesan''s silhouette evanescing. The fighter bowed and tapped his forehead against the floor, with the utmost respect.


    ¡°Excuse me, ma''am, I will.¡±


    ?


    Fadala was happy, the only thing stopping him from showing it was his cold demeanor. Besides, he feared that the same hidden enemies who had killed the sages would take advantage of his moment of weakness.


    ¡°Mr. Adisa, we need to get out of this place.¡±


    Mashal put a hand on the scientist''s shoulder and shook his head.


    ¡°It''s late, and we don''t have a vehicle to transport Akachi quickly. It would be good if Feruzi gave him first aid.¡±


    ¡°You can use the military helicopter we stole from Ilu Nla. It can take you quickly to the safe house.¡±


    Ekundayo spoke while supporting Hakim. They were both very weak and could barely stand.


    ¡°I don''t trust you.¡±


    ¡°You don''t have to trust us. We''ve learned our lesson, Iyamesan was very clear. We have failed as sages.¡±


    Feruzi and Mashal looked at each other in surprise. This was an opportunity to strengthen their forces against interim president Ojwang. Feruzi took the floor and spoke:


    ¡°If that''s the case, come with us.¡±


    Hakim disentangled himself from his companion''s arm and replied, not with resentment but with shame:


    ¡°I witnessed an Entity possess this boy. I no longer have any doubt that he is worthy of carrying a spiritual key. He must have something that we sages don''t have. We''ve lost our dignity, acted selfishly and forgotten what it means to be the bearer of a spiritual key.¡±


    Mashal went up to him and held out his hand to Hakim. It was a gesture of deep friendliness. The Sage of the Law looked at his palm, fearful. He took a step back.


    ¡°If you don''t come with us, you''ll only repeat the same mistakes. Together we can win.¡±


    The leader of the Circle of Sages responded to Mashal''s greeting. The old medium was happy with the decision of the young man in front of him. Twilight rays fell on the top of the Judgement Stone. A cool evening breeze blew over them. More than an alliance had been made, it was a return to their origins.


    Fadala and Ekundayo went to the helicopter and landed on top of the building. They laid Akachi on a stretcher on the floor of the aircraft. Adisa gave her son first aid with a medical kit she had found, and Spin Bomb helped him.


    The helicopter''s propellers cut through the cold wind and took the aircraft towards the resistance camp. What no one inside could have suspected was that this would bring about their downfall.

 Song 132: Whoever has a family has a home

    The helicopter ride to the headquarters of the Ilu Nla Liberation Movement took place in complete silence. Only its propellers filled the air with a melancholy sound. It let out the high-pitched cry of a metal bird with metal entrails.


    On a stretcher, a weakened Akachi was being medicated by Adisa. Serum was pouring into his vein through a catheter, and an analgesic had been applied to ease the pain. The man took it seriously. Sometimes he let out a smile, stroked his son''s hair and adjusted the collar of his clothes.


    Next to him was a tearful Spin Bomb. Her eyes were swollen, she had been crying with worry. After entering the Room of Atonement, she had fallen unconscious. She couldn''t remember anything that had happened. She was confused by the company of Hakim and Ekundayo. She was surprised to discover that the other three members of the Circle of Sages had been killed by the Ilu Nla military.


    Feruzi thought about lighting a pipe, but gave up when he saw his friend Mashal''s disapproving eyes.


    ¡°Do you want me to open the door and smoke outside, old man?¡±


    ¡°I''d throw it myself, if I had any strength left.¡±


    ¡°It''s age.¡±


    ¡°We''re not getting old, Feruzi, we''re going to ruin.¡±


    ¡°We''re just dancing to the rhythm of the world.¡±


    ¡°Not the best dance partner.¡±


    Ekundayo was in a corner. He looked out of place. Surrounding him were his former adversaries, who had planned Adisa''s kidnapping with information obtained by the Happy Prince. In the end, he had been tricked. Since the scientist''s extraction, the Circle of Sages had been traced back to the Judgement Stone.


    Durojaiye, Jabir and Nkechi¡­ cowardly killed by Ilu Nla''s military.


    Despite this, what had impressed the Sage of Justice the most was Akachi embodying an Entity. It was rare for a medium to achieve this feat. If he hadn''t seen it with his own eyes, he would have thought it impossible for a mere beginner in mediumship to accomplish the feat.


    Maybe he really is the door to the Faith of Ilu Nla, wait, what am I saying? I''m just being vain not to admit I''m wrong.


    While Ekundayo reflected on Akachi''s role, Fadala and Hakim were in the cockpit of the helicopter. The hitman was piloting the aircraft and next to him was a curious and boisterous Hakim. During the hijacking, Ekundayo didn''t allow him to go into the cockpit.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Now he had the chance to have fun pressing and turning random buttons. Fadala raised an eyebrow and looked at the copilot with concern.


    ¡°What does that big button do?¡±


    ¡°It''s your ejector seat.¡±


    ¡°Holy shit! You''re just telling me this now?¡±


    A bead of sweat ran down Hakim''s forehead. His right hand was about to press a huge bluish button that emitted a light every three seconds. With great effort, he managed to stop himself. He put both sweaty hands on his knees and took a shaky breath.


    ¡°It''s a joke.¡±


    ¡°Joke? I never thought funeral directors had a sense of humor.¡±


    ¡°We do have a sense of humor, we just suppress our emotions to ensure greater efficiency in our mission.¡±


    ¡°Killing people indiscriminately.¡±


    ¡°We eliminate potential risks to peace and humanity.¡±


    ¡°For you, killing in the name of God must be more just than killing in the name of one''s country, political ideology or whatever. Believe me, my grumpy friend, you are no less a murderer than anyone else. Killing in the name of God doesn''t turn any demon into an angel.¡±


    Fadala didn''t respond. After getting involved in Ilu Nla''s internal conflicts, he began to question his convictions. The world, once black and white, now took on shades of gray that blurred his vision.


    He was the world''s most proficient hitman. The Il¨º Apanyan agent most trusted by his Babu. The one who had internalized his teachings the most. He was the greatest defender of his doctrine, but now his heart was full of doubts, like weeds tangling in his heart.


    Hakim was a talker, and he didn''t want the subject to die there. He decided to clear up some of his doubts about funeral directors. He would never have an opportunity like that.


    ¡°Is it true that your leader can see the future?¡±


    ¡°Yes, he received that blessing from God.¡±


    ¡°But what happens when he dies, like how is this ability passed on to another leader?¡±


    ¡°There''s a secret ritual to transfer the clairvoyance to the next Babu.¡±


    ¡°A ritual, and what does it look like?¡±


    ¡°If I knew, it wouldn''t be secret.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that makes sense.¡±


    Hakim considered that such a gift conferred a great advantage in combat.


    ¡°He must be invincible, just imagine, you''re there fighting and you can predict your enemy''s every move.¡±


    The sage punched the air as if he were fighting. Fadala didn''t answer the medium. He knew that Babu''s clairvoyance could not be used at will. Therefore, it wasn''t a combat skill, it couldn''t be used to predict enemy attacks, or guarantee an advantage in a fight.


    When it came to his own destiny, the Babu was a blind man groping in the dark.


    The helicopter reached the rebel camp. When the people saw the Ilu Nla Armed Forces aircraft flying over the area, they ran to their quarters, leaving the streets deserted.


    Fadala took the aircraft to the top of one of the unfinished buildings. The force of the propellers chased away the gravel and cement that had accumulated. The passengers got out of the helicopter and dragged the stretcher out.


    Feruzi appeared at the top of the building and signaled to the watchmen. Everyone''s heart was relieved. It wasn''t an invasion.


    The priority for Feruzi and his group was to treat Akachi and hold an Unloading Session. The young medium was taken to the leaders'' residence. When he arrived, Azekel saw his grandson in that state and fell on him, worried. Feruzi pushed him away with his hand.


    ¡°He''s fine, you old fool. I''ll look after him, there''s someone who needs to talk to you.¡±


    The master of suspicion nodded back. Azekel could hardly believe it, Adisa was standing in front of him.

 Song 133: Philosophy in coffee cup

    Azekel stared at his son from inside the house. His hand was shaking on the doorknob. Outside, Adisa turned her face downwards and to the side. She was biting her lip. Never had a door been so divisive between two people.


    ¡°Son!¡±


    The old man began to sob. His son and grandson had returned home safe and sound. What more could he ask for?


    Adisa was confused. A mixture of longing and shame assailed his heart. He could barely put his thoughts together. It was like being caught up in a whirlwind of memories. He rehearsed what he could say, but nothing came to mind. The words just ran away.


    ¡°What were you doing standing there? Hug that old man again.¡±


    Was it an order? No, it was an invitation. Adisa turned her face towards her father. She gave him a silent hug, a tight one that made the old man sigh with the force applied to his bones. He wrapped Adisa in his arms as if he were nursing a child. The big man bent his knees so that they were level with his father''s chest.


    For a few seconds, they stood like that, saying nothing. There was no need to say anything.


    After that, they both stared at each other. Snot dripped from her nose and tears flowed from Adisa''s swollen eyes. Azekel patted his son on the cheek and opened the door to let him in.


    ?


    In one of the rooms, Feruzi and Spin Bomb were carrying out the Discharge Session to eliminate Akachi''s physical and spiritual damage. The vibration of his Inner Portal of Faith was out of control due to his possession by the Entity.


    In the living room, Azekel was serving coffee to those present. Mashal was sitting with his legs folded on a rug. Hakim sat lazily with his legs stretched out, taking up a lot of space in the room. Ekundayo drank coffee with an elegance that made the others worry about their own manners.


    Azekel sat down next to his son, offered him a mug of the hot, bitter drink and sat down next to him. The ex-sage of the Faith noticed the absence of Jabir, Durojaiye and Nkechi and feared for the worst.


    ¡°Where are the others? They didn''t want to come?¡±


    Hakim became serious, narrowed his eyes and said in a harsh tone:


    ¡°They had no choice.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡±


    ¡°I''m glad you''ve joined us. I''m glad we''ve put our differences aside for the common good. This will make it easier to defeat Ojwang.¡±


    Mashal snorted ironically. Adisa watched the scene in silence, he had always known that this alliance was temporary. Hakim shook his head, but it was the Sage of Justice who replied objectively:If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°For now, we have the same enemy. But when we defenestrate Ojwang from Ilu Nla, there will be a power vacuum, and the Circle of Sages will make its own moves.¡±


    Hakim nodded. The fact that they were there with Azekel and the remaining masters of suspicion didn''t mean joining their party. It was more of an armistice than an alliance.


    Mashal sipped his coffee noisily and retorted teasingly:


    ¡°You haven''t let go of the bone yet.¡±


    ¡°Ilu Nla needs to go back to a time when mediums led the nation. We don''t need a sham king who doesn''t represent the nation he rules.¡±


    ¡°So, for you, everything that happened in Ilu Nla was the monarchy''s fault? Where were we mediums when that snake snaked its way across the ground to the throne?¡±


    ¡°I''m very surprised to hear that coming out of your mouth, Mr. Mashal. I never imagined that the most ''revolutionary'' of the Masters of Suspicion would say something like that!¡±


    ¡°Don''t confuse things, boy. I''ve never been a fan of the monarchy. But I don''t want to trade one oppression for another. Mediums should serve their community, not be served by it.¡±


    ¡°You don''t know what you''re talking about!¡±


    Tap! Azekel slammed his palms on the floor. The others turned to him.


    ¡°Enough! This is all politics. I don''t care about idealizations now. We need to focus on what we''re going to do from now on, otherwise there will be no Ilu Nla.¡±


    Hakim let out a mischievous smile and threw himself backwards onto the floor. He put both hands behind his head as if he were going to sleep.


    The veins popped in Ekundayo''s temples. He had never accepted his best friend''s slack ways. He gave up his cup so that Azekel could pour more coffee into it. The drink became more and more bitter with each sip.


    Adisa didn''t like the way things were going. Even though he was free, he was still tied to his past. He no longer felt that Ilu Nla was his nation or his responsibility. He just wanted to get away from there with his father and son, to rebuild his life far away. With his knowledge, he could easily get a job in another country.


    He could give his son a better life, get closer to him. Live out the time he had lost, and give Azekel a happy retirement¡­ he smiled to the point of choking on his coffee. In the mind, everything is easy. Challenges, mistakes and unforeseen events never happen.


    Azekel patted his son on the shoulder and smiled too:


    ¡°What? You never knew things were so hot around here, did you?¡±


    ¡°No, it''s not that. We''re creating expectations in the shadow of security.¡±


    ¡°You used to be more optimistic, my son.¡±


    ¡°I''m not Yerodin, my father.¡±


    Hearing that name, Hakim tensed every muscle in his body. He raised his head from the ground and said with anger in his voice:


    ¡°Nor could I, he was a real man¡­¡±


    ¡°Hakim!¡±


    Ekundayo tried in vain to calm his friend. Hakim approached Adisa with his finger raised:


    ¡°Yerodin has made a huge sacrifice. He will be marked throughout our history as the man who betrayed Ilu Nla, a double agent used by you to obtain information. It was their cowardice that put Yerodin''s life at risk. You, Adisa, betrayed Ilu Nla out of selfishness. Don''t you dare talk about my friend like that!¡±


    The accusatory finger moved from Mashal to Azekel. The old men lowered their heads in shame. They had a hand in Ilu Nla''s decadence.


    Adisa raised her hands, accepting the accusations. They were true. She had betrayed the nation to get a cure for her son''s illness. It was true, while the ex-sage of knowledge Yerodin would go down in the annals of Ilu Nla history as a notorious traitor, he would be the great scientist who created the greatest technological revolution on the African continent. Life wasn''t fair at all.


    ¡°I''m sorry. I can''t make up for any harm I''ve done to my land. Nor do I intend to escape blame.¡±


    ¡°You, unlike Yerodin, have someone to go back to, Adisa. Think about it.¡±


    Adisa swallowed dry at the accusation. Hakim didn''t stay to hear the scientist retort. He left and slammed the door behind him.


    Adisa chewed on the words of the Sage of the Law. It was true, he had somewhere to go, a family waiting for him. Yerodin didn''t, even if he were alive. In one of his first actions, Ojwang exterminated the Knowledge Clan on the suspicion that, like Yerodin, they were traitors to the nation.


    His crusade against the mediums continued until he seized power within a few months. Adisa was oblivious to everything, until a necklace bomb was installed around his neck against his will, and he was forced to work to create weapons to kill his compatriots. It was true, life was as bitter and cold as that coffee. He drank it anyway.

 Song 134: Disquiet

    Fadala couldn''t stay at the Masters of Suspicion''s residence. He didn''t want to watch Akachi suffer unconscious on a bed. He was scared of himself. For the first time in his life, he was caring about people, not his creed.


    Before there was only religion, his mission, his manifest destiny traced out by the invisible hands of fate. Now he was afraid of losing lives, of seeing people injured and killed in front of him. That''s why his heart was pounding and his body was in a cold sweat. He could almost feel his anguish in his fingertips.


    He walked through the dirt-strewn streets of the Ilu Nla Liberation Movement headquarters. It was like a small oasis, sustained only by the hope of its inhabitants. Water was rationed, part of the energy came from solar generators that broke down every few minutes and they had to keep watch on the walls and makeshift barricades.


    The residents had become accustomed to his elusive presence. His silent gait and impassive face. At first there was fear in their eyes, now there was sympathy. What he wondered was how long this would last. He felt a constant chill down his spine, a bad feeling.


    He heard his smartphone ring. He walked quickly, dodging passers-by, and went to a place away from the eyes of others. He placed the device in a crease in the wall and activated the holoprojection.


    ¡°God bless you, my son!¡±


    ¡°My Babu, to all of us.¡±


    Fadala put one knee on the floor and placed a hand across his chest. He lowered his head, trying to hide his state of mind from his master.


    ¡°You didn''t report the situation, I was worried that something unexpected had happened.¡±


    ¡°For those who serve the true faith, there are no unforeseen events. The hands of the clock of destiny move in the direction of divine providence.¡±


    ¡°Your words are heavy with poetry, perhaps to hide the profound silence of your doubts.¡±


    Fadala bit his lips and got up from the floor. It was true, he had kept his doubts so far away that they had become more apparent. Babu was an experienced man, he wouldn''t be fooled by rhetorical moves.


    ¡°Excuse me, my Babu. I don''t think I was a good choice for this mission. In contact with these people, I began to get involved in their struggles. I was contaminated by their indignation.¡±


    The hologram of the master assassin pondered his disciple''s words. It was the first time he had seen an Il¨º Apanyan agent express his feelings so directly. He smoothed his goatee. He pondered those words and retorted:


    ¡°You question my decisions? Do you think I sent you on this mission to test your faith, or your obedience to our creed?¡±


    ¡°No, my Babu! Forgive me, I was insolent.¡±


    Fadala removed his glasses. He rubbed his eyes several times. Sweat dripped from his temples. His current posture was nothing like his former self. It was as if he was gradually losing his old self. He felt himself weakening.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Listen, Fadala, my son. Every time I look at you, I remember that child I met in Borno. I remember all the smell of gunpowder, the blood, the screams and the cries of a child with an HK47 in his trembling hands.¡±


    Fadala let out a sob. He turned his back, punched a wall. Then he turned around:


    ¡°Don''t torture me like that, my Babu. At Il¨º Apanyan, we don''t have a past.¡±


    ¡°And no future, just the day you live.¡±


    ¡°I''m afraid I don''t understand your reflections.¡±


    ¡°Fadala, my eyes have seen a horizon of shadows, pain and gnashing of teeth. I won''t see the construction of this new world, but I want people like you to be able to enjoy it when it arrives.¡±


    Fadala took a step back. He had heard something new: a slight tone of sentimentality in his master''s voice.


    ¡°My Babu, what''s wrong with you? I''ve never seen you patronize us.¡±


    ¡°Fadala, this world as we know it will cease to exist. And the only one who can change that is Akachi. He will be God''s instrument.¡±


    The hitman was amazed by those words. There really was a reason for him to be there, his pistols at the service of a young medium. He knelt down, bowed with his right hand and bowed his head in obedience.


    ¡°I will be subservient to God until the end of my days. Forgive me for my lack of wisdom. I will never doubt our creed again.¡±


    ¡°That makes me happy. How is young Akachi?¡±


    ¡°We rescued your father from the hands of the Circle of Sages. Mr. Adisa is fine. Akachi is receiving care from Feruzi. The Ghost Troop, under the command of General Luena, appeared and took advantage of the moment to execute three of the sages and steal their spiritual keys.¡±


    Fadala continued to describe in detail the fight between Akachi and the two remaining sages. Babu listened in complete silence. He himself was surprised that Ekundayo and Hakim had joined Akachi''s group.


    What interested him most was the fact that Adisa''s son had incorporated an Entity. A fact he had never witnessed before.


    ¡°My son, I hear ominous winds coming from the waves of the Atlantic. The evil one is producing baits and casting nets over your feet. Remember to pray to your God, and meditate on what Moses heard in Exodus 33:1.¡±


    The holoprojection was closed. Fadala clenched his fists. He grabbed his smartphone and ran in the opposite direction.


    ¡°May God have mercy on us.¡±


    ?


    At a military base in Ilu Nla, soldiers were running around. Tanks and helicopters were being reloaded with ammunition and refueled. An armored vehicle crossed the runway and entered the main hangar. Inside, hundreds of soldiers from Ilu Nla''s Cyber Troop were lined up. They were part of the 1st Special Infantry Battalion under the command of General Gahiji. The best in their infantry regiment.


    The armored vehicle maneuvered and stopped. Two commanders waited outside. From inside the armored vehicle, General Luena and his three falangettes jumped out. Then came the communications officers from the Secret Service. The military saluted and led the group to a freight elevator.


    On the top floor of the hangar, on the metal catwalks, stood Gahiji. At the sight of him, Luena felt a chill. The man''s eyes were nothing like the military man she had known at the academy. His expression was delirious.


    ¡°General Gahiji, the mission was successful. We obtained three spiritual keys and executed three of the sages.¡±


    She offered an armored steel case. General Gahiji used his biometrics to open the case and saw the presence of the three relics. He felt the urge to touch them, but held back. This wasn''t the time.


    ¡°Don''t be so presumptuous. Our monitoring service noticed that you lost a Nebula in the operation, and ended up revealing us to the enemy.¡±


    He offered the armored steel case to a military officer who took it away.


    Luena didn''t show any reaction, but inside she was possessed. Her subordinates, however, harassed the general, but Luena gestured for them to calm down.


    ¡°Don''t say that, my Nebulas can still be useful on this mission. They have an infiltration power that none of your men have.¡±


    ¡°I hope so!¡±


    You arrogant bastard! This will bring about your downfall.


    Gahiji turned to the men inside the hangar. He turned on the microphone and declared his intentions for the military operation:


    ¡°Today, men, we are going to put an end to the rebels who are destabilizing our nation so much. Ilu Nla will have peace again. Adisa has a biolocator, and our satellite has already tracked it. We will wait until dawn when they are dreaming and defenseless. We will attack them and take no prisoners. Today, I will measure shoulders with you!¡±


    In unison, the men shouted as they saw Gahiji raise his right fist and swing it towards the sky.


    Behind him, General Luena licked her lips. General Gahiji was going to the battlefield after losing the Savage Unity. She wanted to wish her brother-in-arms good luck, but deep down she wished he wouldn''t come back.

 Song 135: Banality of evil - Part 1

    The 1st Special Infantry Battalion under the command of General Gahiji advanced along two front lines. One with armored vehicles and ground troops, and the other with air support. The helicopters would transport the bipedal tanks for an infiltration above the rebel camp.


    Two jumbo helicopters carried a pair of bipedal tanks armed with thermite machine guns, flamethrowers and mini-rockets attached to their shoulders. There would be no prisoners. Gahiji had authorized the use of lethal ammunition.


    The air support approached the headquarters of the Ilu Nla Liberation Movement. One of the pilots identified the movement of several people through his night vision.


    ¡°General Gaihiji, this is Storm 1. We''ve identified about a hundred individuals, they''re armed and guarding the perimeter.¡±


    ¡°Only a hundred? I expected more. They must be short of manpower.¡±


    ¡°Sir, with all due respect, even for a rebel camp, there are plenty of men patrolling the site.¡±


    ¡°They''re sewer rats hiding from their predator, how do you think they live? I''m not surprised, they''re trapped. Release the white phosphorus bombs, this will force the mediums to leave. Then trigger the Ax¨¦ energy sight, prioritize their death.¡±


    The helicopter pilot followed orders. Before he triggered the bombs to drop, his hands shook. He closed his eyes and bit his lips. He knew that when he fired that incendiary weapon, the allotropic form of phosphorus would instantly combust on contact with oxygen.


    Those who didn''t die from the explosion would die from inhaling the toxic smoke. It would be conducive to the advance of Ilu Nla''s Cyber Troop, but at what cost?


    Concerned by the pilot''s inaction, the co-pilot turned to him and said with a bead of sweat running down his face:


    ¡°Officer, sir, we need to follow General Gahiji''s orders.¡±


    ¡°Don''t rush me!¡±


    After a deep gasp, the pilot dumped the load of white phosphorus bombs. The largest warhead split in mid-air and released sixteen smaller warheads. Like a meteor shower in the night sky, the incendiary bombs hit the ground, causing a huge, pale explosion.


    ?


    The light infantry advanced in two wings to the makeshift wall surrounding the camp. Two men guarded the gate made of rusty bars reinforced with zinc sheets.


    The commander of the operation signaled with his fingers. They waited for the signal until a large whitish, incandescent column rose into the sky. The targets turned to see what it was and were shot with silenced pistols. The bodies fell to the inside of the wall.


    With an electric jack they managed to break down the gate. The commander gave the order:


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Identify the bodies with a biometric scan.¡±


    The subordinates searched for the bodies and found none.


    ¡°What do you mean they weren''t found? We killed them and I saw them fall here.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, sir, but they seem to have evaporated.¡±


    ¡°Stop fooling around!¡±


    The commander checked himself with the flashlight on his gun. Neither of the two bodies were there, only the weapons. The man scratched his temper with the barrel of his gun. None of it made any sense.


    ?


    Although few in number, the rebels responded to the invaders with fire. The terrain was uneven, with several places to barricade. Gahiji wouldn''t waste his time with amateurs. He had already identified a group emitting strong Ax¨¦ energy. One of them was lying down, emitting so much Ax¨¦ that he couldn''t help but identify him as the young Akachi.


    Without missing a beat, in the midst of bombs and gunfire, he crossed the battlefield. Suddenly, he stopped walking. He turned his head away from a shot fired at point-blank range.


    ¡°Don''t be such a coward, undertaker.¡±


    Before Fadala could escape, he grabbed him by the arm and threw him a distance. The hitman disappeared into the shadows. Gahiji continued walking, and a second time, another opponent attacked him with a sword. Gahiji didn''t even bother to dodge, his armor could withstand it.


    To his surprise, the sword passed through his body like a ghost. With a slap to his enemy''s chest, he pushed him away. Gahiji felt an enormous pain run through his body. He staggered backwards, but didn''t collapse. The pain was unbearable.


    ¡°It hurts, doesn''t it? That''s all the pain you''ve ever inflicted on others.¡±


    ¡°Ekundayo, Sage of Justice? What have you done to me?¡±


    What resistance! This guy is a monster...


    ¡°I hit him with the Sword of Life and Death. It doesn''t cut his body, but his soul. It produces a wound in your spirit, causing all the feelings of guilt to gush out. If you feel pain, then you still have some humanity left in you.¡±


    Tomp! Fala sprang up and landed a low kick to Gahiji''s chin, sending him crashing to the ground. He aimed his two pistols and fired numerous shots at his opponent. The magazines were reloaded and unloaded with such speed that even Ekundayo found it difficult to keep up.


    Finally, Fadala threw a hand grenade. There was an explosion followed by a groan. A curtain of dust enveloped the general. Fadala and Ekundayo took their distance.


    ¡°Didn''t Il¨º Apanyan teach you that it''s rude to interrupt other people''s conversations?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, we assassins don''t have time to explain anything.¡±


    As the pair argued, Gahiji felt the pain coursing through his body like his own blood. He looked up at the sky, the smoke already obscuring the stars. The soldier began to remember what his orders were, the oaths he had sworn before the flag of Ilu Nla.


    Recovering Akachi was not a choice, it was his mission. His falangettes had been killed for underestimating the enemy''s strength. If he had gone himself, he would have killed both the masters of suspicion and recovered the Spiritual Key of Faith. He had to redeem himself before Acting President Ojwang. He had to do justice to the death of his subordinates.


    I''m a military man, and a military man follows orders. Yes, no matter what I have to do, I''ll take Akachi''s head on a silver platter if I have to.


    Gahiji''s fingers began to move with difficulty. What gave him strength was his obsession. His body began to tremble slightly.


    ¡°UARGH!¡±


    Suddenly, he stood up. He raised his fists and activated the cannons on his wrist. He pointed them in the direction of Fadala and Ekundayo. Spheres of Ax¨¦ energy formed in the mouths of the cannons and a high-pitched sound was emitted. Fadala and the sage looked at each other.


    ¡°That''s not good...¡±


    ¡°Run!¡±


    The gunman pushed his battle buddy away. The energy spheres were fired, and narrowly missed them. The spheres expanded to the size of a house and consumed everything within a radius of four meters.


    The mortician got up from the ground, dusted off the shoulders of his suit. He pulled a herbal cigarette from his pocket and lit it nonchalantly.


    ¡°Is that smoking time?¡±


    ¡°What can I do if it calms me down? Where''s that friend of yours, Hakim? I''m afraid we''re going to need him.¡±


    ¡°I don''t know, Fadala. He left well before you arrived and hasn''t come back yet.¡±


    ¡°I hope Mr. Mashal''s plan works.¡±


    ¡°It would work if your Of¨® had worked.¡±


    ¡°It''s never my fault that his obsession was greater than the high pain of the Sword of Life and Death.¡±


    Facing them, the colossal General Gahiji of the Phalanx stared at them. His words conveyed a single message: my mission will be accomplished whatever the cost.

 Song 136: Banality of evil - Part 2

    Those who weren''t suffering from insomnia were too tired to fall asleep. Two hours before the attack led by General Gahiji, Fadala entered the room where Feruzi was presiding over the Discharge Session. From his countenance, everyone soon understood that the news he was bringing was not good.


    The announcement was made in a dry, blunt manner. Mashal frowned. Although he had a well-structured spy network, Il¨º Apanyan was many steps ahead of him.


    The undertaker asked for the entire Ilu Nla Liberation Movement camp to be evacuated immediately. The rebels in the camp didn''t have enough weapons and ammunition to fight off the advance of the Cyber Troop, nor did they have any knowledge of the mediumistic arts. It would be very difficult to fight while protecting civilians.


    Ekundayo shook his head. He didn''t know much about the local structure, but he knew that logistics were impossible.


    ¡°I don''t want to be a pessimist, but dragging all these people outside the walls won''t be easy. It''s night, they''re tired, and the evacuation might scare them¡­¡±


    ¡°What''s your proposal then, are you going to leave them to die? Every minute we waste time, the enemy advances.¡±


    Azekel and Adisa looked at each other in awe. Akachi''s father even felt guilty. He knew that the location of the hideout had something to do with a tracker implanted in him. Azekel got up from the floor and said:


    ¡°Ekundayo is right, Fadala. We need to give our penetrators a good distraction.¡±


    The hitman, with a rare lack of control, grabbed the shoulders of the former medium and said:


    ¡°Don''t joke about it! You can''t fight an army alone. We need to evacuate this place urgently, Mr. Azekel.¡±


    Mashal laughed audibly. Everyone turned to him. The ex-sage walked among those present, trying to calm the mood. He went to the window, pulled aside a ruined shutter made of soda can seals. He faced the immensity of the night.


    With a mixture of uncertainty and expectation, he turned to the others and spoke:


    ¡°We can''t ignore what Fadala said, we have to evacuate the people. They are refugees, not guerrillas. They take up arms more to protect themselves than to attack¡­¡±


    Spin Bomb, who until that moment had been silent. He walked up to Mashal and pointed to the room where Akachi was and shouted:


    ¡°What about him? Tell me, what are you going to do for him? He can''t be moved now. The Unloading Session hasn''t been completed, you know? I''m not leaving without Akachi!¡±


    Mashal noticed the swordsmith''s eyes brimming with tears. She held them back because of the force of the hatred pouring down her cheeks. She wasn''t willing to negotiate. Akachi''s life was at risk.


    The master of suspicion stared at Azekel and Adisa, grandfather and father made the same gesture. None of them would move until Akachi could stand.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    What a girl! Now I know why you decided to train her, Feruzi.


    Despite his self-confidence, the problem of the attack had not been solved. With unparalleled speed, Mashal drew up a contingency plan. When he finished his report, Ekunadyo was perplexed, he thought that the ex-sage wouldn''t survive it.


    ¡°If you use that Of¨®, you''ll die.¡±


    ¡°Not before I wipe out their race.¡±


    Despite the planning, the risk was enormous. First, those who couldn''t fight like Spin Bomb, Azekel and Adisa had to lead the evacuees to Judgement Rock. A place far enough away and known by everyone. Mashal would use his most powerful Of¨® to provide cover for Feruzi, the ex-sage needed to continue Akachi''s treatment. It would attract the attention of the ground troops.


    Ekundayo, Hakim and Fadala would fight off the generals who emerged. With this, Mashal took on a great responsibility. The protests were not long in coming. Spin Bomb stomped his foot, crossed his arms and said he would never leave for the world.


    ¡°I told you, it''s no use. Just get out of here when Akachi gets going.¡±


    ¡°Pretty stubborn, isn''t she?¡±


    Azekel walked over and stopped facing Mashal. His face showed great determination:


    ¡°I can''t abandon my son and grandson. Adisa would never leave Akachi, and I do the same. You must understand, they are my family.¡±


    Adisa nodded and joined her father in the argument:


    ¡°I can help organize the evacuation, but my father and I will stay here. I can no longer turn my back on my son.¡±


    Mashal looked at Ekundayo and Fadala. He scratched his head, then let out a shout:


    ¡°Where''s that useless Hakim?¡±


    ?


    Hakim was lying on a large fallen concrete pillar. It was uncomfortable, but he didn''t mind. Through the opening in the ceiling, he could see the stars. He scratched his belly and patted it, making a boing sound! He was out of shape. For the thousandth time, he vowed to do exercises to make his belly muscular.


    He rested his forearm on his forehead. All that was left for the mediums was kilo, the ruins. Dreams of life shattered and materialized into death, shattered houses, dirt and disease. I thought Ekundayo was right. Only mediums could make Ilu Nla great again.


    Scattered in thought, he heard propellers cutting the wind. The glimmer of starlight was covered by a large dark mass. Hakim got up quickly. He staggered outside. Intense spotlights hit him. The man covered his forehead with both hands.


    ¡°Hey, asshole, throw that light away from my face!¡±


    The aircraft crew seemed to have heard what he said. They removed the searchlights. However, they dropped several bombs on him. Cabooom! The white phosphorus emitted intense pale sparks everywhere.


    In desperation, Hakim forged a small Ax¨¦ dome to protect himself. The flames and smoke made him uncomfortable. The hem of his tunic caught fire. In desperation, he rolled around on the floor and tried to put out the fire by blowing on the fabric.


    When he succeeded, he let out a sigh. He didn''t have time to rest. Two huge shadows loomed over him. The Sage of the Law looked back. He bit his lips and growled:


    ¡°What the¡­¡±


    He received a blow to the face and was thrown in the opposite direction. An entire building collapsed on his head. A pair of bipedal tanks jumped into the impact area and searched the perimeter for the body.


    ¡°Where is he, is he dead?¡±


    ¡°It''s likely, you hit him hard.¡±


    ¡°Actually, it only grazed him.¡±


    Hakim appeared between the two bipedal tanks. He drew a large quantity of Ax¨¦ into his hands, then discharged them straight at their legs:


    ¡°Statute of Minor Force.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    Their hands acted like blowtorches. They severed the legs of the bipedal tanks. They fell to the ground with a thud. Even as they fell, one of them activated his flamberge bayonet and tried to impale Hakim. The man escaped the sword. The other military vehicle fired a load of missiles from its shoulders and unleashed a hail of bullets at the sage.


    Hakim used the Electromagnetic Decree and repelled the missiles. They hit the attacker. The warheads reduced him to dust. But the second bipedal tank escaped. It dispensed with the remaining leg and deployed a lower module with tracks on the bottom, and took on the appearance of traditional tanks.


    Hakim got into a combat stance and called the enemy into the fray.


    ¡°Sorry, I wasn''t ready for visitors. But since you''ve come, I''ll entertain you.¡±


    The bipedal tank snapped its fingers, and several soldiers appeared from all directions with guns pointed at him. Hakim squinted his eyes. He hadn''t realized there were so many opponents. The soldiers started shooting, and Hakim ran away from the bullets and bombs thrown at him. The soldiers pursued him.

 Song 137: Banality of evil - Part 3

    General Gahiji walked slowly towards his opponents. His emerald armor with gold details made him look imposing. He was like a lion facing two cornered prey.


    It was inevitable for Fadala and Ekundayo to take two steps back. Fadala turned to the Sage of Justice and challenged:


    ¡°Didn''t you say that one blow from the Sword of Life and Death would put this thing on standby?¡±


    ¡°Don''t blame me, undertaker! The generals of the Phalanx are cyborgs. I think that condition allowed him to cut off the effect of my Of¨®, or maybe¡­¡±


    ¡°Or maybe what?¡±


    ¡°Remember the Ax¨¦-Core? These things must not just be energy generators. They must also affect the vibration of the internal portals.¡±


    ¡°I see, that means your Of¨® is useless.¡±


    ¡°Don''t be rude!¡±


    Gahiji went for a run. Electromagnetic thrusters were activated in his back and calves. His speed increased dramatically. The displacement of air alone was enough to hurl his opponents away. It was the same sensation as being hit by a bullet train.


    Ekundayo was thrown into the second floor of a building, and Fadala hit a wall. Their senses went numb for a few moments. When they returned to normal, Gahiji was standing in front of them. His right arm was outstretched. The general was preparing a punch and carrying enough Ax¨¦ energy to destroy a house.


    Fadala smiled. His fist came down on the ground. With every centimeter it pierced, the surrounding area cracked and threw boulders upwards in slow motion. A huge curtain of dust rose into the sky, covering the soldier''s body.


    ¡°You''re pretty fast for an assassin.¡±


    Fadala had escaped and hidden behind a halved pillar. He drew both pistols. For the first time, he felt like he was in the crosshairs of the gun, and not the shooter.


    ¡°If you won''t come out, I''ll force you out.¡±


    Gahiji walked over, grabbed an iron beam with both hands, and spun it swiftly above his head. Finally, when he had gained enough speed, he threw it where the mortician was hiding. The beam shattered the wide concrete pillar like a knife cutting through a fresh slice of bread.


    Fadala escaped a second time and went back to hiding in the shadows of the unfinished building. He thought that there was no way to hide from the invader. The cyborg clad in an exoskeleton full of cybertechs had several ways of locating him.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    You can''t hide, you can''t run away, and you can''t fight back¡­ just like Mr. Mashal said. I feel useless having to entertain the visitor until the host shows up.


    Fadala came out of his hiding place. He pointed his pistols at Gahiji''s chest. The general opened both arms in defiance:


    ¡°Shoot!¡±


    Before the triggers could be pulled, the Ilu Nla soldier was hit by several metal thorns with Ax¨¦ propagated in a spiral shape at the tips. This caused the large projectiles to rotate in the air, increasing their speed.


    Despite the explosion caused by the impact, Gahiji managed to hold on to two of them with his bare hands, and deflected the rest.


    ¡°Fadala, get out of there!¡±


    The hitman raised his face. From the top of the building, Ekundayo was expertly using the mediumistic arts. He concentrated huge quantities of Ax¨¦. He shaped them like metal projectiles. He attracted the Ax¨¦ of nature and impregnated it around the thorns, which gave him the same piercing power as an electric drill. After this operation, he punched and kicked the base of the nails to throw them at the enemy.


    Gahiji decided not to dodge or defend this time. He jumped towards the projectiles and advanced against his opponent. He used his leap between the metal spikes to reduce the distance between them.


    The CAPR Mediumistic Profile is complex to use. That''s why he specializes in modelling Ax¨¦. His repulsion is very weak, but thanks to the Spiritual Key of Justice, he has compensated for this weakness.


    ¡°How do you¡­¡±


    ¡°My system has already detected the weaknesses in your fighting style, medium. You use the Sword of Life and Death for critical attacks. Without it, you''re a zoner, your combat is long to medium range. In melee, you won''t stand a chance against someone like me.¡±


    Gahiji grabbed Ekundayo by the neck with ease. The military man''s big hand was like a hydraulic claw squeezing his neck. His face turned red and veins popped under his skin. The air seemed to have disappeared around him. The sage tried to use his hands to free himself from the enemy''s grip, but was unsuccessful.


    However, he noticed that the ring finger of Gahiji''s right hand was missing. This meant that one of his blows had wounded him. He wasn''t as invulnerable as he thought. The medium let out a choked smile.


    ¡°Urgh¡­¡±


    The sage tried to articulate a few words, but the constriction around his neck didn''t allow him to.


    ¡°I didn''t hear you, say it!¡±


    Convinced of his submission, General Gahiji pulled his opponent close to his ear. The enemy whispered:


    ¡°Hall of Expiation.¡±


    In a millisecond, the soldier''s perception had changed. A building of slate walls appeared around him. There were columns and walls full of reliefs. Gahiji lowered his arm, bewildered. He looked at the ceiling, the ground and the surrounding walls; there was no visible exit. The little light came from the torches hanging on the walls.


    On the back wall, there was a stone altar. Not one made of polished stone, but of rough stones that fitted together like the menhirs in the Egyptian pyramids. Behind the altar, leaning against the wall, there was a huge aura of a half-human, half-ape creature with scales in its hands. On one side of the scales was a hawk''s feather.


    ¡°You will be tried today for all the crimes you have committed, General Gahiji. This room will drain all your Ax¨¦. Feather of Truth.¡±


    The anthropomorphic creature placed the scales on the altar and disappeared. The scales swung with one of their supports to the side where the feather was resting. Gahiji felt as if power cables had been connected to his armor and were sucking all the Ax¨¦ out of his body.


    But what was that?


    ¡°Surprised, aren''t you? Don''t worry, it won''t last long. And don''t even try to fight back. The more you resist, the more the Hall of Expiation will suck your Ax¨¦.¡±


    ¡°You must be desperate to use your trump card right now. You and the gunman are just buying time, or rather wasting my time. You should know that the Ax¨¦-Core can be recharged to infinity after it''s been depleted. Alteration of Quantity: Quantum Entanglement of Matter.¡±


    Gahiji''s body began to defragment in mid-air and disappeared completely.


    Ekundayo ran towards him, but there was no way to stop him from running away. The sage came to the conclusion that the soldier had not simply teleported away. Discouraged, he undid Ax¨¦''s massive prison. In front of him, a faint Fadala had been captured by Gahiji.


    With his bare hand, he held the hitman upside down. His arms hung like pendulums. In addition to the grave situation, the sage noticed that, in a mysterious way, the ring finger of his right hand had returned.

 Song 138: Banality of evil - Part 4

    Fadala swung like a human pendulum. Cold blood ran down his face, around his cheeks and dripped onto the floor. His eyes opened with difficulty. It was as if he had been struck by lightning¡­ twice in a row. He had been caught off guard by General Gahiji.


    Seeing his enemy captured by Of¨® of Ekundayo, he thought that the fight was about to end. Then it wouldn''t even be up to Mashal. He was wrong. He had underestimated his opponent''s strength and now he was there, like vulnerable prey. It was humiliating for an Il¨º Apanyan agent.


    Gahiji felt proud. Not even he would have thought it would be so easy to subdue a lethal hitman. The military man raised his opponent high enough so that the medium could see him.


    ¡°Hand over your key and join me. I''ll spare your life if you swear allegiance to President Ojwang.¡±


    Ekundayo took two steps back. The enemy had escaped and had still captured Fadala.


    ¡°And if I don''t accept?¡±


    ¡°I''ll slaughter this murderer in front of you. Don''t take it personally.¡±


    ¡°Do what you want, this man is just a last-minute ally.¡±


    Fadala activated the mechanism of his pistols and dropped the magazine. He took an ammunition clip from his suit pocket, reloaded the pistols and pointed it at General Gahiji''s head.


    ¡°How considerate, Ekundayo. I''m going to have to get out of this one on my own.¡±


    ¡°What do you intend to do, mortician? Your bullets won''t be able to pierce my armor.¡±


    ¡°It doesn''t hurt to try.¡±


    Blam! A static noise burst through the air. Unlike armor-piercing ammunition, Fadala used electrocuting projectiles. The electrical discharge was enough to shake the giant''s frame. He fell backwards and remained motionless. His hands loosened, which allowed the assassin to escape his clutches. Gaihiji''s arms, legs and head spasmed.


    Fadala and the medium regrouped. Although the enemy had been hit in the face, they weren''t so optimistic about how much damage they had done. It was like trying to knock out a tyrannosaurus rex with a tranquilizer dart.


    Little by little, Gahiji''s body began to twitch. Muscles contracted, metal sagged under its own weight. His eyes rolled back in their sockets.


    ¡°What''s he doing?¡±


    ¡°Your Ax¨¦-Core is forcing your system to reboot, Fadala. You''d better have more of those projectiles with you.¡±


    Gahiji clenched his fists. He bent his knees and arched his body forward. He emitted a pulse of Ax¨¦ that raised a curtain of dust around him.


    ¡°Damn, what did he do, medium?¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°It spread the bodily damage to the surrounding environment, it was like a Discharge Session.¡±


    ¡°That thing is a monster!¡±


    ¡°No wonder he''s the strongest general in the Phalanx.¡±


    Gahiji moved towards his opponents. With every step he took, Fadala and the Sage of Justice fell back two.


    ¡°There''s nowhere left to run. Nothing you''ve done has worked so far. Give up and die with honor.¡±


    ¡°Statute of Minor Force.¡±


    Slim! It was a clean cut. Gahiji''s head was thrown meters away from his body. The decapitated body tumbled slowly to the ground. Behind the general stood Hakim with a huge smile on his face. His tunic was torn and riddled with bullet holes. Bruises and abrasions could be seen all over his arms and abdomen.


    ¡°What a triumphal entry! You should have come earlier.¡±


    ¡°Don''t complain, Ekundayo, you don''t know what I did to get here with my head on my neck. Excuse the pun, General Gahiji.¡±


    The Sage of the Law kicked the fallen body a few times.


    Fadala couldn''t believe his eyes. Physical attacks, a rain of bullets from his pistols couldn''t even scratch the enemy''s armor. With a single blow, the medium had decapitated the soldier. The assassin thought that the battle had already gone beyond the limits of what an Il¨º Apanyan agent could do.


    The gunman fell to the ground on his buttocks. He stretched out his legs and stuffed the pistols into his holster. He rolled a herbal cigarette and lit the end with a lighter.


    Hakim looked at him and walked towards Ekundayo. He shook his head as he smelled the cigarette.


    ¡°You''re addicted to this stuff. You should stop, it can cause cancer.¡±


    ¡°And you should exercise once in a while.¡±


    ¡°I hurt! Don''t talk about other people''s bodies, they might cancel you out in cyberspace.¡±


    ¡°I don''t even use social networks.¡±


    ¡°Hohohohoho, I thought mediums didn''t attack from behind.¡±


    Everyone turned to the voice. It was Gahiji''s head. Although they didn''t know how, his head was still alive. It floated up into the air and stood next to the body. The decapitated body began to rise on its own.


    Fadala got up from the ground and drew his two pistols. Ekundayo and Hakim joined him.


    ¡°Holy shit, bro! Look at that¡­ a talking head.¡±


    Fadala felt irritated. All that resistance confused him. He knew that the generals of the Phalanx were not just any enemies.


    ¡°Even decapitated, he''s still alive, Hakim, how do you explain that?¡±


    ¡°Don''t ask difficult questions.¡±


    Gahiji laughed. He was amused by the sense of despair on his opponents'' faces when they saw him survive.


    ¡°That''s not difficult for me to accomplish. With my Alteration of Quantity: Quantum Entanglement of Matter, my body, divided or fragmented to infinitesimal fractions, keeps its parts connected. That makes me unreachable.¡±


    Hakim took a step forward. He drew in vast Ax¨¦ energy and concentrated it in his two hands.


    ¡°To keep two atomic particles together already requires an abundance of energy. How long could you maintain this condition without failing with the entanglement?¡±


    The Sage of the Law seems to be a comical man, but his reasoning is very shrewd. Enemies like this must be a priority when it comes to elimination.


    Hakim leapt towards him quickly. The blow was aimed at his floating head. Gahiji clenched his jaw, concentrated a mass of Ax¨¦ energy in his mouth, and fired a laser beam. Still in mid-air, Hakim shouted:


    ¡°Gravity Constitution.¡±


    The Sage of the Law doubled the space between him and his opponent. The laser beam was launched high into the air. Throughout Ilu Nla, a huge reddish, incandescent beam was seen coming out from near the walls and piercing the clouds. The authorities told people not to worry, the Armed Forces were carrying out weapons tests within the city limits and posed no risk.


    Hakim undid the space-time warp. In front of him was Gahiji''s head. But his body was no longer on the ground. Before he could think, his opponent''s body slammed into the sage''s, and they were both thrown a distance by the shock. Hakim was undeterred.


    He applied another blow to cut off his opponent''s arm, but he used his Alteration of Greatness once again and detached his right arm. The upper limb acted autonomously and punched the medium in the stomach.


    Hakim tried to defend himself, but Gahiji''s left leg also detached from his body and hit the medium''s back with a knee. Hakim fell to the ground and his head was kicked. The sage spat blood onto the sand. The attacks continued unabated. Legs and arms, detached from his abdomen, made it difficult for the medium to defend himself.


    Gahiji''s body came together a second time. The general looked down at him.


    Hakim wiped the blood from his mouth and got up from the floor. He concentrated Ax¨¦ in his right hand and declared his Of¨®:


    ¡°Resolution of the Force Major.¡±

 Song 139: Banality of evil - Part 5

    The Ax¨¦ sphere grew, the vital energy was drawn in and concentrated into enormous sums. With each passing second, it took on an increasingly massive appearance. Its concentric movement propagated a high-pitched sound in the air.


    Seeing it, General Gahiji took a step back. The area around Hakim was condensed with electromagnetic force.


    This thing could really kill me if it hit me hard.


    ¡°Die, General Gahiji!¡±


    The Sage of the Law launched the Resolution of Force Major at the enemy. The sphere of energy hit the soldier in the chest. His body began to disintegrate into tiny Ax¨¦ particles. Only his lower waist and legs remained. The Ax¨¦ sphere hit a building and consumed it entirely in a great implosion.


    Hakim felt his strength drain away. His legs trembled. Ekundayo ran to him to prevent his friend from collapsing to the ground. He had used a lot of his Of¨®. Fadala also came to his aid, but the sage rejected their help.


    The Sage of the Law sat down on the debris-strewn ground. He smoothed his sweat-dripping hair and said:


    ¡°Damn you! You got what you deserved.¡±


    The Sage of Justice put a hand on his friend''s shoulder and squeezed hard.


    ¡°He gave us a lot of trouble, my friend.¡±


    Fadala puffed on his cigarette and let the gray spirals rise into the sky.


    ¡°His Alteration of Quantity allows him to split his body at the atomic level and resume his original form. I don''t suppose he can survive that technique. I saw what it can do on the Judgement Stone.¡±


    ¡°We need to help Mashal.¡±


    ¡°Do you really think old Mashal needs our help? He''s his own army.¡±


    ¡°Hohohohoho, I''ve never felt so alive in my entire life.¡±


    The trio assumed a defensive posture. Gahiji''s voice continued to echo in the air. The mediums were the first to notice that the particles of Ax¨¦ that had spread through the air were now returning to focus on the soldier. Little by little, the general resumed his cyborg form.


    There wasn''t a single scratch on his cybertech armor. His cybernetic exoskeleton remained with the same defensive capacity as when the fight had begun. Gahiji patted his chest to shake off the dust, a gesture of irony.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°I confess that your Of¨® is very dangerous. If I hadn''t used my atomic dispersion, I would have been crushed by your Ax¨¦ sphere.¡±


    Hakim gritted his teeth. He couldn''t believe what had happened before his eyes.


    ¡°No one has ever survived the Force Major Resolution.¡±


    ¡°Everything has a first time, sage Hakim. Don''t worry, for fighting with honor, I''ll kill you last.¡±


    ¡°That doesn''t sound like good news.¡±


    Unable to fight back, the trio stood paralyzed in front of the giant. Gahiji lived up to his military reputation. Not even Hakim''s most powerful Of¨® had wounded him. There seemed to be no alternative to facing him. Escaping seemed to be a temporary solution. But they were the last barrier before the enemy and a weakened Akachi.


    ¡°Any last words?¡±


    Hakim raised his right hand and showed his middle finger to the enemy.


    ¡°Fuck you, tin man!¡±


    ¡°I confess I''m surprised by that attitude, I thought sages were more courteous.¡±


    ¡°I''m really going to die, one more or one less rudeness won''t make any difference.¡±


    ¡°It''s true, near death, morals abandon us.¡±


    Gahiji continued to advance against his opponents. However, the sense of danger they had emitted at the beginning had ceased. They were no longer cornered, they seemed more indifferent. The soldier thought they had given up on life for good.


    No, something''s not right.


    ¡°For someone who''s been handed a death warrant, you''re calm.¡±


    Fadala took out his cigarette and threw it on the ground. He stepped on it and put it out. He straightened his tie and answered Gahiji with a smile:


    ¡°Don''t worry, General Gahiji. We''re enjoying the symphony of silence.¡±


    ¡°Symphony of silence?¡±


    The soldier stopped. His ears perked up. The thunder of the bombs, the groans of the tracer bullets had ceased.


    ¡°But what¡­¡±


    Prac! The ground began to shake around Gahiji. He activated his thrusters, but he was too late. Dozens of Mashal jumped out of the ground and fell on his opponent like a swarm of bees.


    ?


    Spin Bomb paced back and forth. She seemed irritated by the lack of news of the fighting outside. With each bomb that fell and firefight that began, her nerves were increasingly on edge.


    Azekel was sitting on a rug, approached his son and whispered in his ear:


    ¡°Your daughter-in-law seems to be very irritable.¡±


    ¡°Tell me about it, I''m starting to feel sorry for my son.¡±


    ¡°What are you two whispering about?¡±


    Spin Bomb appeared between the two of them and brought their heads close to their cheeks. Azekel and Adisa turned pale. They answered in unison:


    ¡°No, nothing!¡±


    ¡°I think it''s good. What the hell! Fadala and Ekundayo should have been back by now.¡±


    Feruzi continued to perform the Discharge Session on Akachi. The damage to his energy network had been too great. He had incorporated an Entity without proper preparation or training.


    Transforming that damage into Ax¨¦ particles to be propagated outside the patient''s body required skill, but also a lot of concentration. Something he couldn''t get from a teenage girl marching furiously around the room. Feruzi smoothed the sweat from his forehead and said to calm his pupil:


    ¡°Spin Bomb, you should put more trust in all of us. We won''t let Akachi be captured.¡±


    The young woman walked towards her master and once again felt close to the medium lying on the floor. His condition seemed stable.


    ¡°Getting nervous won''t do any good. Gahiji is a formidable enemy, but there are three mediums with sage level out there, not counting the undertaker, he''s clever.¡±


    Feruzi was trying to fool himself. He knew very well that even if the general was defeated, the losses on the other side would be even greater. He could only hope that his old friend Mashal would return safely.

 Song 140: Banality of evil - Part 6

    Gahiji was stunned by the number of enemies that sprang up from the ground. Almost a hundred Mashal advanced against him with raised fists. Their movements were swift and coordinated. Their tautly muscled bodies were covered in an aura of Ax¨¦.


    The general put his arms in an ''X'' shape at chest height in self-defense. He was trapped, and the Ax¨¦ aura was causing interference in his systems. Even with his Alteration of Quantity, it wouldn''t be so easy to use the quantum entanglement of matter. Gahiji hadn''t anchored any part of his by being attacked by surprise.


    The soldier was hit in the back. To his amazement, the fist sank into his emerald armor. Another hit him in the head with a knee. His body fell backwards. Another opponent hit him with a kick, his heavy body lifted off the ground.


    His attributes have been honed to the limit. How long will he continue in this form?


    ¡°What do you think of that, bellipotent general? Weren''t you the pride of the nation?¡±


    Gahiji didn''t have time to respond to the provocation. The various Mashal hit his opponent with a flurry of punches, knees and kicks. They rose through the air like a swarm. Finally, one of the Mashal threw a powerful punch with Ax¨¦ energy concentrated in his fist.


    The giant cyborg was thrown hard into a building. The building collapsed. The dust and debris formed an immense wave. It was the first time anyone had overpowered his Alteration of Quantity. Densifying the area around him with Ax¨¦ particles was the key to preventing him from splitting his body and escaping.


    To move his mass between two different points in space, and maintain the integral cohesion of the atoms, he lowered the energy density. Doing this through a dense field of Ax¨¦ particles could slow down or even stop the entanglement.


    Gahiji raised his left hand. He considered cutting off the fingers and throwing them at different points on the battlefield. However, he opted for the whole hand, because the larger the body part, the greater the anchoring power. The attraction was too great and didn''t depend on energy density. He severed his left hand with his right. He threw the limb away.


    His system was struggling to recover from the physical and internal damage. The Ax¨¦-Core had doubled its capacity to attract Ax¨¦ into the environment to compensate for the damage.


    The various Mashal would not let him recover his energy. They made a circle around him, simultaneously raising his right arm with an open hand, fingers outstretched. They drew in the Ax¨¦ from the surrounding space and concentrated it all into a sphere in the palm of their hand.


    ¡°What is it, General? I thought the pride of the Cyber Troops had more to show me.¡±


    The Ax¨¦ Guardian, standing on the true Mashal, shook his head.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Don''t underestimate the enemy. We don''t know what he''s capable of.


    Funny, since the beginning of this battle, you haven''t yawned for a minute, Ewansiha.


    I''m trying to keep you alive, you idiot.


    Gahiji, trying to buy time, tried to strike up a conversation.


    ¡°How did you manage to produce so many copies? I thought your Of¨® limit was ten clones.¡±


    ¡°That''s the Spiritual Reserve Army. With them, I can produce a hundred copies, each holding 1/100th of my power. And each one attracts a charge of one percent of nature''s Ax¨¦. When one of the clones is destroyed, 2% of the power returns to me. When they''re all destroyed, I''m left with 200% strength.¡±


    The mediums fell on Gahiji with a point-blank attack. It was like a bombardment.


    ¡°Rebellion Of The Masses!¡±


    The Mashal fell and exploded on Ilu Nla''s general. The impact resulted in a huge, deep crater in the ground. The explosion erased from existence an area corresponding to an entire city block.


    The real Mashal landed next to his comrades-in-arms. They congratulated him and celebrated Gahiji''s defeat. The ex-sage''s face remained as rigid as a stony mask.


    ¡°He may have been hit, but he won''t die. I need to destroy his Ax¨¦-Core.¡±


    Ekundayo stepped forward and put a hand on the old man''s shoulder and said:


    ¡°Don''t play games with us. There''s no way he could have survived that.¡±


    ¡°To defeat this kind of enemy, he must be put in a trap. Sage Hakim, what is it, what is it, the further you get from the point, the more it revolves around it?¡±


    The Sage of the Law''s eyes widened. But he let his face fall to his chest. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. If the result of his next move had the same result as the previous attack, they would lose another master of suspicion.


    ¡°Are you sure you want to do this?¡±


    ¡°No sacrifice, no revolution.¡±


    ¡°Don''t be silly!¡±


    Mashal turned his back and walked towards the smoke screen, which was diminishing in intensity. Gahiji appeared in front of him, imposing like a destructive god. His armor showed scratches and cracks, but maintained its integrity. A dark soot was oozing from his joints, indicating the pressure his operating system was under to keep him upright.


    I should have calculated the distance of the blast radius better. I ended up being hit by it.


    ¡°You thought you could kill me with a kamikaze bombardment? Don''t make me laugh.¡±


    ¡°Your fate was sealed when we exchanged the first blows.¡±


    ¡°Now that the real Mashal is here, I''ll put an end to this charade. You''re just buying time. You''re avoiding your tragic end, you''re desperate.¡±


    Mashal raised both hands upwards and drew all his Ax¨¦ between his palms. An enormous sphere of Ax¨¦ formed. Its glow was silvery-blue. It emitted a friendly warmth. A high-pitched sound reverberated in the air.


    ¡°You won''t be able to hit me with that.¡±


    ¡°You bet I will? Revolution.¡±


    Gahiji narrowed his eyes. Quickly and almost imperceptibly, something changed in the room.


    What is this strange sensation?


    ¡°Think fast!¡±


    Mashal threw the Ax¨¦ sphere in Gahiji''s direction. The soldier used his quantum entanglement. However, his body appeared a few steps away. He did it again, and the same thing happened again. In desperation, the general ran off in the opposite direction.


    No matter how hard he tried to change the direction of his flight, he kept going in the same direction, as if strange forces were guiding his path. The general gathered Ax¨¦ projectiles in his hands and attacked the sphere, but the sphere launched by Mashal absorbed the Ax¨¦ particles projected by Gahiji.


    The soldier stopped running. A bead of sweat ran down his face. He had understood the trap he had fallen into. Smiling, Mashal''s Revolution hit the general full on. The energy enveloped him and shattered his entire atomic structure.

 Song 141: What to say to the dead?

    Mashal landed on the ground, stumbled and fell flat on his face. He had been struggling to keep his eyes open. His bulging muscles began to atrophy. He lost weight, his physical appearance became so vulnerable that his bones protruded.


    Hakim and the others approached him. The Sage of the Law lifted him carefully. He shook his head.


    ¡°You old fool! You knew you would die using your strongest Of¨®. Yet you put yourself at risk.¡±


    ¡°For the first time in my life, I saw the Revolution. Too bad it didn''t bring about the transformation I wanted.¡±


    Ekundayo knelt down next to him. The medium gave him his best smile and said:


    ¡°Don''t say that, you single-handedly defeated a general of the Phalanx.¡±


    ¡°No, young man, nobody conquers anything alone, cof-cof.¡±


    ¡°Say no more, we''ll take you to Feruzi.¡±


    ¡°Feruzi can''t save me, not this time, cof. I''ve lived a life that deserved to be lived.¡±


    Mashal''s eyes lost their shine. Ekundayo turned his face away. Fadala made the sign of the cross. Carefully, Hakim closed the old medium''s eyes.


    A mournful breeze blew across the battlefield. It was nature''s way of saying that it had rescued his spirit from his body. And Mashal''s soul was standing before the others. Next to him was Ewansiha. They watched as the young men led the body through the ruined rebel camp.


    ¡°If you''d always fought like you did today, you''d have got me out of a lot of trouble throughout my life, Ewansiha.¡±


    ¡°I''m not the best man in the world, Mashal. I never wanted to be an Ori medium or Guardian. I wanted to be a simple bureaucrat. To have a good salary, a house of my own, a wife, two or three children, who knows, and die a natural death in a house in the countryside after middle age. You can''t have everything...¡±


    ¡°I''m sorry, but your mediumship couldn''t be wasted.¡±


    ¡°Mashal...¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Do you think that boy can change Ilu Nla''s fate? His chances of victory seem pretty slim to me.¡±


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°A sheepherder killed a giant with a stone.¡±


    ¡°You really are an incorrigible romantic.¡±


    ¡°If we don''t dream of possibilities, they cease to exist.¡±


    Ewansiha removed his top hat and smoothed out the strands of hair that stubbornly fought against baldness. He had never really understood the selflessness with which mediums fought. It was as if death didn''t exist for them, or rather, it was a friend, a confidant.


    When he took up his post as ambassador to England, he thought he had abandoned that world. Ancestry frightened him. It was as if the weight of an entire tradition had to be carried throughout his life. It took the death of a dear friend for him to reconsider.


    He looked at the ex-sage and gave a nod indicating that it was time to leave. The pair turned their backs on Hakim and his friends and started walking in the opposite direction. Little by little, they disappeared into the darkness of the night. They headed for Orun, the sky beyond the sky.


    ?


    He opened his eyes. The morning chill crept in from under the covers. He raised his head. Next to him were Feruzi and Spin Bomb. The deep circles under his eyes revealed his physical and mental fatigue. Right behind them were his father and grandfather. Hakim and Ekundayo were sitting in a corner of the room, and Fadala was leaning against a wall.


    The teenager smiled. Gradually, the smile turned into a grim face. The boy felt a strong jolt in his heart. There was one less person there.


    ¡°Where is Mr. Mashal?¡±


    The question echoed in the room without an answer. He stood up unsteadily. Spin Bomb tried to stop him leaving the room, but Feruzi stopped her.


    Akachi began to sob. With great effort, she contained the cry in her throat. Tears gathered on her eyelids. It was like the flowing waters of a river that had found a barrier in the middle of the path. The young man felt a great melancholy, one he hadn''t felt for a long time.


    He left Azekel''s residence. To his surprise, what had once been a community was in ruins. In his eyes, everyone looked dead. Akachi walked with one hand on his chest, stretching out his shirt as if to extract all the pain from it.


    The wind swept the debris and smoke from one side to the other. He wondered where the people were.


    ¡°Is anyone there? Mr. Mashal, where are you? No, he''s not dead. He''s not, I know he''s not.¡±


    Tears and snot started pouring down his chin. The dam of tears had burst. He walked through the rubble until he saw a gravestone in the middle of a vacant lot. He walked over to it. Even without any inscriptions, he knew who lay in that makeshift grave.


    The boy fell to his knees in front of the headstone. He cradled his face in his hands. He squeezed his hair between his fingers. Then, in a rage, he began to pound the ground with both hands.


    ¡°Damn it! Nobody should die because of me. That''s not fair! It''s not fair!¡±


    ¡°He didn''t die in vain, he sacrificed himself for you. Don''t belittle that.¡±


    Hakim came up behind him a few steps away. The Sage of the Law knew how painful that moment was for him, he decided not to invade his space.


    ¡°Are you an idiot? He''s not dead. It must have been some plan devised by the masters of suspicion to deceive the enemy. They''re strategists.¡±


    ¡°No, young man. Don''t fool yourself like that.¡±


    Feruzi appeared in front of him. Akachi collapsed to the ground. She lay in a fetal position with her arms wrapped around her knees. The tears stopped.


    ¡°So... this is how it ends? People come into my life and die because of me. If that''s the case, I''d rather die in their place. It''s all my fault.¡±


    Everyone surrounded Akachi. The boy seemed to be crushed by a ton of sadness. He scratched the ground with his fingertips. Ekundayo took the floor this time.


    ¡°Listen, Akachi. In Ilu Nla, unlike other cultures, we don''t mourn the departure of the living, we celebrate the passing of the dead. What for some is a moment of sadness, for us is a rite of transformation. Death, for mediums, has never been an end in itself, only a continuity.¡±


    Akachi saw someone else approaching, it was Fenyang. The Ori Guardian held out his hand to him. Akachi accepted it and got up from the ground.


    ¡°Mr. Mashal. I can''t do anything about it, but I can keep fighting to protect those I love.¡±


    ¡°That''s how you say it, bro.¡±


    Azekel and Adisa gave Akachi a comforting hug. At that moment, he had gone from being a boy to a man.

 Song 142: The rings are gone, the fingers remain

    Akachi was cleaning the lenses of his glasses. Sitting on the carpet, he listened to the updates in the middle of breakfast. He was pleased to hear that the population of the Ilu Nla Liberation Movement headquarters had been safely evacuated before General Gahiji''s attack.


    After his Discharge Session, his thoughts, feelings and senses were confused. The decompensated Ax¨¦ energy was altering his perception of the world. He needed to rest.


    Something inside him was bothering him. Ilu Nla''s Cyber Troop had taken everything from them. Innocent people had died. They were treated as internal enemies in their homeland. The time for separation was over, now it would be time for reunion. Unexpectedly, the young medium said:


    ¡°What are we going to do from now on?¡±


    Everyone was silent, either because they had no answers or because the question had come so suddenly.


    Feruzi straightened the sleeves of his robe, brought the cup of coffee closer to his mouth and blew the smoke away.


    ¡°That''s a complex question.¡±


    Hakim, who was lying on the floor, turned his face to the ex-sage and said:


    ¡°Complex, but necessary. We can''t stay here and pretend nothing happened.¡±


    Ekundayo nodded and added to what his friend had said:


    ¡°It''s true, we''ve been on the defensive all this time. We can''t hide in the shadows forever.¡±


    Feruzi put down the cup at his feet and lit a pipe. He took a puff and let the smoke spiral out of the corner of his mouth.


    ¡°A counterattack is not impossible, but it will cost many more lives. Those who make themselves available must be aware of that.¡±


    The mood in the room was heavy. Akachi hadn''t lost his point. He had been fighting in the dark until that moment. He needed answers, and he would get them right away. He bit his lip; he might be getting into a sensitive topic for the sages.


    ¡°Mr. Feruzi, we all know what we''re fighting for. But it didn''t start now. We need answers. I need answers.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough. What do you want to know, young man?¡±


    ¡°Over time, we''ve heard about Yerodin, the deceased Sage of Knowledge. What role did he play in this war?¡±


    At this question, Hakim emitted a small pulse of hostile Ax¨¦. Matters involving his old friend affected him greatly.


    ¡°His role was the saddest of all. The whole of Ilu Nla should pay tribute to him.¡±


    ¡°I don''t understand, Hakim.¡±


    Hakim turned the other way, ignoring Akachi. The boy was irritated by the other''s silence. Feruzi signaled for the discussion not to start.


    ¡°All right. Yerodin was my pupil. He was the person who inherited the Spiritual Key of Knowledge. A very noble and selfless young man like no other...¡±


    ?


    ¡°We are at Ilu Nla International Airport. Acting President Ojwang has returned from his diplomatic trips in Africa and West Asia. His last visit was to Iraq...¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The reporter relayed the news to a population anxious to know the results of the visit. Ilu Nla needed to circumvent the threats of economic sanctions imposed by the Anglo-American Alliance and increase its technology exports to the BRICS.


    The mood was celebratory. The Head of State had guaranteed sovereignty in the face of threats of military intervention by the Economic Community of West African States. Ilu Nla began its entry into the African Union, becoming the 56th country.


    Despite requests at the press conference, the politician decided to return to his official residence. An alert had been triggered while he was still abroad. He needed to find out why.


    In the limousine, Lomungo, his special advisor, was sitting in front of him. In a sycophantic tone, the man spoke:


    ¡°You were splendid, Mr. President Ojwang. The nation''s enemies didn''t count on your diplomatic skills and geopolitical knowledge. You predict scenarios as if you were Orunmil¨¢ himself.¡±


    ¡°Don''t be so superstitious, all this is the result of study and analysis.¡±


    You''d be very surprised if you knew the truth, Lomungo.


    Ojwang lit up a cigar. In his youth, he thought the habit was a waste of time, but as president, he took up smoking. It relieved the stress of dealing with power, and it also conveyed an image of a refined and powerful person.


    ¡°They still see the world as if they were in the 20th century, it''s a shame.¡±


    What worried Ojwang were not the external enemies, but the internal ones. The Circle of Sages, the Masters of Suspicion and Akachi. The Ilu Nla Liberation Movement was less dangerous than annoying.


    The Chief Executive leaned his face against the glass of the door. He looked at the crowd outside with signs and posters in his favor. Despite the show of affection coming from the citizens, he felt only distance from them. There was no way that Ojwang belonged in that society.


    The president followed his entourage to the official residence. He asked Lomungo to call an extraordinary meeting with the Phalange in his office in half an hour. After taking a shower and putting on a new suit. Ojwang went to his office. Five minutes later, General Luena and General Jitujeusi entered.


    General Luena was carrying a stainless steel containment box. He had a huge smile of satisfaction on his face. The other general crossed his arms behind his back and maintained a stony posture.


    Ojwang frowned. He had been clear in ordering all three generals to come.


    ¡°Where''s General Gahiji, he''s never been one to be late.¡±


    ¡°He won''t be able to come, Mr. President.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°He was shot down by enemy forces.¡±


    Even Jitujeusi was startled by the coldness with which the military officer delivered this news.


    Ojwang took two steps backwards until he leaned against the table. He took a towel from his suit pocket and wiped away the sweat that was stubbornly running down his face.


    ¡°Don''t play games with me, general! Gahiji is a member of the Phalanx. He''s one of my most powerful soldiers.¡±


    ¡°His power didn''t stop your recklessness, sir.¡±


    ¡°Explain yourself, it seems you acted without consulting me.¡±


    Luena recounted everything that had happened, omitting only her participation in the catastrophic events. Despite the misfortune of losing a general of the Phalanx, she showed that the balance was still positive. They had recovered three spiritual keys. She opened the containment box and revealed the glow of the mystical artifacts.


    ¡°Here it is, the Spiritual Key of Evolution, the Spiritual Key of Force and the Spiritual Key of Generation. In addition, the death of the master of suspicion Mashal has been confirmed...¡±


    General Luena remained silent. Ojwang approached with glassy eyes, eyes full of ambition and desire. He took the box from her hands and smoothed the keys with his fingertips. He wasn''t a medium, but he could feel the power coming from them. Then his eyes narrowed, and he took on an ophidian look.


    ¡°As the general in charge of the Ilu Nla Armed Forces Intelligence Service, didn''t you foresee Gahiji''s actions, General Luena? There are times when you offend my intelligence.¡±


    Luena swallowed his saliva dry. He bowed his head and put an arm tightly around his chest.


    ¡°My leader Ojwang, I devote my life to your ideals. General Gahiji acted in absentia and corrupted some of my subordinates with false promises. He offered advantages in exchange for support. Those soldiers have already been silenced.¡±


    Jitujeusi laughed a little. Luena looked at him with great hostility:


    ¡°What a beautiful fairy tale. And you, as the leader of the Cyber Troop''s espionage sector, only saw Gahiji''s actions after the battle had begun. You used your Phalangites to spy on his actions, and took the opportunity to steal the spirit keys. Even so, you never reported anything to President Ojwang.¡±


    ¡°Shut up! Don''t you dare doubt me. I sent my soldiers to watch the operation unfold and take the keys from their holders. The situation was contained in time, and our leader was on an official mission abroad, so he couldn''t be alarmed.¡±


    ¡°You decided all this on your own, just like Gahiji. You fool! I don''t know if this stupid idea came from you or from that idiot, but the casualties were too great to compensate for winning three spiritual keys.¡±


    Luena felt the prosthetic joint in her arm throb with great pain. The effects of Nyatui''s blow were still being felt throughout her body.


    ¡°Don''t be so presumptuous, you weren''t here. Don''t judge how you should have acted.¡±


    ¡°I wasn''t here because I was protecting our leader!¡±


    ¡°ENOUGH!¡±


    They both turned to Ojwang. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the military duo. The generals left. The politician went to his desk. He covered his face with his hands. He was furious. He hated it when his subordinates acted on their own.


    After mourning the loss of General Gahiji and hundreds of well-trained soldiers, he opened the box. He smoothed out the spiritual keys he had won one by one. He gave a huge smile.


    ¡°Three more to go.¡±

 Song 143: Those who fly too close to the sun

    Under a leafy mango tree, an old man, surrounded by children, was telling a legend. The myth was one of those present in humanity''s collective unconscious. The versions changed according to the region and the experience of the teller, but the thrust of the story remained the same.


    It was a hot summer''s morning. The students and the teacher decided to leave the formality of the classroom and take shelter under the tree. Patiently, the teacher continued to lecture.


    ¡°The vulture decided to ignore the irony and fears of his neighbors, and flew to the abode of the sun. The closer he got, the more his wings weakened, and the sunlight punished his eyes¡­¡±


    The narration with its exaggerated touches of drama drew the deepest feelings of apprehension from the children in the audience. However, one of the children remained serious. In fact, he was incredulous at the way the story was going.


    Hanging from one of the tree branches, a fat boy was waiting for the right moment to pour the bucket of water over the old man. He was bored with the long narrative. He wanted to hear the magic word ''children, you are dismissed. He was the most mischievous of the pupils and didn''t like the classroom at all. Which got him into trouble.


    ¡°For this reason, the vulture lost all sight. To his misfortune, he never saw the face of the sun. His feathers burned to ashes and he fell from the sky. Well done! Children, you''re dismissed. Ah! Glad you could join us, Hakim.¡±


    The teacher elbowed the tree. Its trunk shook, and the young man hanging from the branch began to unbalance.


    ¡°What? No, argh!¡±


    The boy collapsed to the ground. The bucket of water fell on his head, soaking him. The boys laughed at him as he tried to remove the bucket stuck on his head.


    The students left the teacher, except for one. The boy remained sitting in front of the teacher.


    ¡°Master Feruzi¡­¡±


    ¡°I see you''re not very happy with the end of the story.¡±


    ¡°I think I misunderstood, Yerodin.¡±


    The boy in front of the Sage of Knowledge was slight, with short, curly hair and eyes as sharp as a sword. Unlike the others, he didn''t rush into anything, but observed everything.


    ¡°I didn''t quite understand.¡±


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    ¡°What didn''t you understand?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ you often say that only knowledge can set us free. But in this story, the vulture didn''t see the true face of the sun. It''s not fair, he tried very hard.¡±


    ¡°Yes, knowledge really is liberating, but obsession imprisons us.¡±


    ¡°But shouldn''t knowledge always bring the truth? You mean we can be punished for trying to know beyond our own limits? So what''s the point of knowing if that knowledge can turn against us?¡±


    ¡°Obsession with something can put us at risk. The vulture wasn''t looking for the true face of the sun out of curiosity, or to solve a real problem. It was a vain search. I''m sorry I wasn''t so clear, I didn''t want to discourage you. Wow, you ask very deep questions for someone your age!¡±


    After several attempts, Hakim managed to pull the bucket off his head. Gasping deeply, he mocked his master:


    ¡°Never mind that silly old man, Yerodin. He''s just trying to discourage you. He''s trying to stop you from becoming the new Sage of Knowledge and¡­¡±


    The unfounded accusations continued. Yerodin let out a deep sigh. The veins began to throb at Feruzi''s temple.


    ¡°Look, kid, don''t push your luck. You should do like your friend Yerodin.¡±


    Hakim crossed his arms around his waist and retorted:


    ¡°Yerodin doesn''t need to study because he''s already a genius, and I don''t need to study because I have a lot of intuition.¡±


    Feruzi let out a sigh. He ran his hand down his face and tripled over:


    ¡°Yerodin, don''t follow your friend''s bad example. You can go, you''re dismissed.¡±


    Yerodin took Hakim by the arm. The fat boy gave tongue to the teacher and stretched the lower lid of his left eye with his index finger.


    The pair of boys walked through the courtyard until they left the school. Yerodin looked serious. Hakim tried to strike up a conversation with him, but the other boy responded monosyllabically. The fat boy knew that when his friend looked like this, it was because something was really bothering him.


    ¡°What? You didn''t say you were impressed by the crow story.¡±


    ¡°Crow, it was a vulture.¡±


    ¡°Whatever, they''re birds.¡±


    ¡°Actually, they''re birds.¡±


    ¡°Damn! Why does everything have to be so serious for you?¡±


    Yerodin stopped abruptly. Hakim slapped his forehead. A long and complex conversation was about to begin. He felt unprepared for such dialogues.


    ¡°Argh! All right, what is it? Talk.¡±


    ¡°That story didn''t bother you a bit?¡±


    ¡°Because of the¡­ blind vulture?¡±


    ¡°No! I don''t know, this thing about knowledge having a limit, or you being punished for trying to know too much.¡±


    ¡°That''s just like those stories they tell to scare children. If I were you, I wouldn''t think too much about that old man''s nonsense.¡±


    ¡°He''s not just an old man, Hakim. He''s the Sage of Knowledge, he possesses a Spiritual Key, a manifestation of Fante Obataiye''s Divine Power. Don''t talk about him so disrespectfully.¡±


    Hakim squinted his eyes. It was as if he had been caught red-handed committing a crime. He put his hands up, closed his eyes and said:


    ¡°I''m sorry, I know how you feel about these rules, ''Mr. Right''.¡±


    ¡°Don''t call me ''Mr. Right''.¡±


    ¡°Fine! ''Mr. Right''.¡±


    ¡°Argh! Hakim.¡±


    ¡°Try to catch me, if you can.¡±


    Hakim began to run awkwardly through the streets of Ilu Nla. Yerodin, out of pity, let his out-of-shape friend get a few meters ahead.


    Despite the casualness of the moment, Feruzi''s words hadn''t left the boy''s mind. The boy didn''t believe that knowledge should have a wall where you run into it and turn back. If knowledge was truly liberating, it should have no limits.


    Life already imposed too many limits on human beings. It was constantly changing, full of dangers and challenges, and human life was finite. Yerodin decided that he would not die like the vulture, blind before the sun.

 Song 144: The weight of responsibility

    He inscribed the zimbras on the walls and floor of the room. It had taken up a lot of his time. The possibility of creating an Of¨® was the gateway to gaining the Spiritual Key of Knowledge. In his clan, the pursuit of innovation was encouraged and highly esteemed.


    The young man heard from the clan leaders that the most important factor in choosing their sage was not strength or any display of power, but intelligence. Without knowing why, the teenager felt he had to dedicate himself to this position. It was more than a personal test of his abilities, it was a chance to take the clan in a new direction.


    What motivated him was a quest for change, one in which knowledge was not limited by tradition. That was his vision of the world.


    When he had finished, he wiped his hands on the walls, fell backwards onto the floor and lay down. He straightened his nose, then put both arms behind his head. He stared at the ceiling as if it could give him an answer.


    ¡°Ah! By Fante Obatiye, what am I doing?¡±


    Someone knocked on the door. He turned his face towards the door and asked the person to come in.


    The newcomer entered. He was a thin, formal-looking man. He looked like Yerodin, but there was no longer any sparkle in his eyes, his skin was dry and his hair was beginning to grow bald. The man looked around the room and whistled.


    ¡°What are you doing, summoning a demon?¡±


    Yerodin laughed. His father knew how to be humorous when he wanted to. The man entered with a brown envelope between his fingers. He went to the other side of the room, pulled out the chair that was leaning against the shuttered window and said:


    ¡°You should get out of the house more. Hakim has been looking for you, I don''t know what excuses I can give him anymore. He''s a very stubborn young man.¡±


    ¡°Dad, have you ever wanted to do something more, like do something really big?¡±


    The man let out a sigh and stared at the window. He got up from his chair and opened the shutters. The afternoon sunlight entered the room and illuminated the zimbras in the bedroom. The characters made up of black lines and dots began to glow.


    ¡°I''m not as clever as you.¡±


    The words came out in a confused timbre of discouragement, resentment and affirmation.


    ¡°No, Dad, I''m serious.¡±


    ¡°I''ve never been so serious. There''s a reason I held a bureaucratic position in the Knowledge Clan, I wasn''t a good medium. But you''re not me, you can go much further. Just don''t let that ''so far'' take you to an unknown place. You might forget how to get back.¡±


    ¡°Sorry, I don''t think I understand¡­¡±


    ¡°Forget it, I''m philosophizing too much today. Take this and read it carefully.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The envelope was placed on the teenager''s chest. His father left the room and closed the door.


    Yerodin got up and sat on the edge of the bed. The envelope contained no external information. The young man raised an eyebrow and opened the envelope, not knowing what to expect. His eyes widened. It was a recruitment form from the Ilu Nla Intelligence Service, an area under the responsibility of the Knowledge Clan.


    According to the summons, he had to present himself at a specific time and place, in formal clothes, alone, without carrying weapons and carrying the identification card that came with the document. Everything was to be kept confidential.


    ¡°For Fante Obataiye!¡±


    Her first reaction was to run towards her father and scream. She reached the door, but stopped herself. The document began to crumble in his hand. All that remained was a gray magnetic card.


    ¡°How secure! I''m glad I memorized the instructions.¡±


    The boy went back to bed with his legs shaking. At the age of twelve, he had acquired a great deal of respect in the clan, although his positions caused some discomfort in the leadership. They needed to use his skills and limit or control his sense of innovation. They thought it would turn against them at some point.


    Yerodin let out a brief smile. He felt a tickle in his stomach and then rolled over in disbelief. This could well be the greatest opportunity of his life. He even let out a tear of delight.


    The medium knew very well the reason for the call, the advantages and the consequences of accepting the secret service. But there was a chance that he could achieve his greatest goal. He missed Feruzi and Hakim at that moment.


    ¡°Well, you don''t miss an opportunity, you take it.¡±


    ?


    For the first time in his life, Yerodin left home, didn''t say where he was going or when he would be back. This worried his parents. The boy thought he had failed in his mission to reach the address of the Intelligence Service without arousing suspicion. He decided to arrive half an hour early to make sure he was on time.


    On the street, he straightened his clothes and walked without hurrying. He kept his usual calm. She avoided the usual streets and the places where her classmates played.


    If Hakim showed up, it would be a big problem¡­ he would interrogate him for a long time.


    Gradually, the young medium''s intuition began to alert him to a possible chase. The boy sensed a man following him down two streets. Yerodin stopped to look in a restaurant window to see what the man looked like through his reflection in the glass. The man turned away when he realized the boy had stopped. The medium gave a small smile.


    ¡°You''re not discreet at all, my friend.¡±


    Yerodin entered the restaurant. To the staff''s surprise, the young man walked through the hall, past the kitchen. The waiters and cooks began to complain about his intrusion. The chaos was already underway. Yerodin ran to the back doors. He jumped over a wall and ran down an adjacent street.


    He took a mirror from his pocket, and as he ran down an alley, he tried to check the roofs of the houses for pursuers. He wasn''t surprised to realize that there were others on his trail. Yerodin started running in the opposite direction from the address.


    They must have intercepted the message, or someone may have leaked information from the agency. They want me to take them there, there must be something special there, they want to confirm the address so they can break in. I''m not taking you there.


    Yerodin headed for the city center. The streets and traffic were busy at the moment. It would be easy to lose so many pursuers. The young man took off his shirt and put it on inside out, then tore the sleeves off his shirt. With the sleeve, he improvised a bandana. He really did look like someone else.


    The young man noticed that his pursuers were bewildered by the city''s shopping area. The excess of colors, smells and sounds covered their tracks.


    The teenager arrived at the exact place and time, after losing his pursuers. It was a sparsely populated neighborhood, with empty streets and abandoned houses. The address was a door in an alley full of garbage.


    ¡°Did it have to be in such an ugly place?¡±


    He knocked on the door, twice quickly, then just once. The door opened and he was captured. Everything went dark, and when he could see again, there was a huge monitoring room. Several agents were viewing the screens and typing up reports. In the images, Yerodin was the protagonist.


    An older man came up to him and untied him from the chair. It was the same man who had chased him in the morning.


    ¡°You were testing me?¡±


    ¡°And you passed with flying colors, young man.¡±


    ¡°My God! You''d think you were going to kill me.¡±


    ¡°No, on the contrary, we want you, and alive. Welcome, my friend, you''re silver of the house now.¡±


    The agents began to applaud. Yerodin felt a bit silly. Reassured, he thanked them. He straightened his wrists and felt his blood flow slow down. It was like a warning that his life would never be the same.

 Song 145: The destiny of men

    It was a family dinner. After a long time, everyone was together once again. Yerodin was eating to his heart''s content. His mother had put out generous portions of food. Even though he was already full, he continued to eat; he didn''t want to be discourteous to his mother. Although he was expecting a bad digestion the next morning.


    His three older brothers had brought their wives. His sister was pregnant with her third child and hoped that this time it would be a boy. She promised that if it was Fante Obataiye''s will to give her a male child, she would name him after her grandfather. There was a small commotion at the table.


    All Yerodin said at the table was about work. It was the only topic he mastered well, and he dealt with it in the most prosaic way. To all intents and purposes, everyone believed that he worked in one of the information technology sectors of some government department, and it didn''t cross anyone''s mind that he was a secret agent.


    However, this didn''t deprive him of family responsibilities. Although his face was always friendly, his eyes were sharp, as if he was always on target. This aroused mixed feelings in his interlocutors. Unconsciously, they tried to resolve the issue by giving the most diverse suggestions, without any caution.


    ¡°Son, you''re rather skinny. You should get a wife soon and stop working so much overtime.¡±


    His mother fired at point-blank range. There was unrestrained laughter across the table. The women couldn''t contain themselves. The matriarch of the family really didn''t mince her words.


    Yerodin smiled. The discomfort of being charged was great, so he maintained his posture of protocol. He had become a master at it.


    ¡°Thanks, mom. I''ll think about it.¡±


    ¡°Your father and I are thinking of arranging a marriage for you. We''re going to choose a nice girl.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mother, that''s very suitable.¡±


    Despite Yerodin''s abnegation, and the festive mood that hung over the dinner, the older brother signaled to the medium when dinner was over. They both went to the front of the house and walked down the sidewalk.


    They chatted. It was a warm evening, which made them loosen the collars of their formal clothes and hang their jackets over their shoulders. They stopped under a lamppost. The older brother offered him a cigarette, but Yerodin declined with a wave of his hand.


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    ¡°It''s very good for you, smoking is bad for you.¡±


    Yerodin raised one of his eyebrows in an inquisitive tone, which made his brother choke on a cough.


    ¡°If it''s so bad, why do you smoke?¡±


    ¡°Hahahaha, cof-cof, I don''t know, you''ve always been more rational than me.¡±


    The man leaned against the lamppost, swallowed his cigarette and exhaled a wave of pale smoke that made Yerodin''s eyes water. The young medium stood against the wind to dodge the smoke.


    At that moment, between gulps and coughs, he realized how much his older brother had aged. His temples had the first white hairs. His hair was already showing signs of baldness. Yerodin shivered a little, this was more or less how he would look as he got older.


    ¡°The clan leaders have made you the new Sage of Knowledge.¡±


    ¡°You know it''s not that easy, brother. I''ll need to create a new Of¨® to apply for the position. It''s not in my plans at the moment.¡±


    ¡°I don''t know anything about politics, but I never believed things would be like this.¡±


    ¡°I don''t understand.¡±


    The man threw the cigarette away and blew the rest of the smoke out of his flared nostrils.


    ¡°You remember when Feruzi told you about the history of all men.¡±


    ¡°Yes, ''Men are born, grow up, love, fight, grow old and die'', wasn''t that it?¡±


    ¡°Exactly, but I''ve always found that very cruel.¡±


    ¡°I agree, it''s a very ageist view.¡±


    ¡°It''s not just that it''s an etapist view, my brother, it''s that many people can''t follow this script to the letter. Many die before they''re born, isn''t that ironic? It''s as if each individual''s personal experience is worthless.¡±


    ¡°What do you know, my older brother is a philosopher.¡±


    ¡°Stop, go!¡±


    The man tapped his younger brother on the shoulder, saying in a mixture of pride and concern:


    ¡°Dad and Mom demand a lot from you. Not just them, the clan, the country, I don''t know, the whole world, hahaha. But maybe you''re right, there''s no such thing as the right direction.¡±


    ¡°You''re scaring me, you know that? What did you do to my older brother? He was kidnapped and they replaced him with a replicant!¡±


    ¡°Hahahaha, good one! Listen, I''m saying this for your own good. Don''t do anything to please others. Do it for yourself, otherwise you''ll get old and frustrated like Dad.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°Now, let''s go back. They''ll think we''ve been abducted halfway.¡±


    The man hugged Yerodin around the shoulders and the two of them walked back to the house. The night had lost its last vestiges of warmth, and a cool breeze began to blow from the north.


    The lamps competed with the stars. The latter lost in distance, but won in majesty. Yerodin thought that being a star shouldn''t be as difficult as being a medium. During the day, they hid behind the light of the sun, and at night they shared the night sky with the moon.


    They shone brightly without trying to illuminate something or someone specific. They didn''t compete. They were born and died in silence. Even after turning into gaseous planets or barren rocky spheres, their glow wandered to the ends of the universe. It was like the memory that people left behind after they passed away.


    For this reason, Ilu Nla gave so much priority to memory, mnemonic formulas, repetition, rites, myths, etc. The glow of the ancestors would continue to illuminate society. It was like timeless poetry.


    A last look at the sky, like a farewell. Before entering the house, Yerodin heaved a tired sigh. He turned the doorknob and entered. All his problems remained outside the house.

 Song 146: The selection of the Sage of Knowledge

    The external threats, added to the country''s internal enemies, had taken up a lot of his time. He hadn''t seen his family for weeks, and they were constantly demanding visits. That was the least of his worries.


    Yerodin was summoned to the general directorate of the Ilu Nla Intelligence Service. Such summonses were no ordinary meetings. The high command only looked him in the eye when the situation put the nation at risk. The agent arrived in the chilly room and was greeted by a stern, middle-aged medium with a bureaucratic countenance.


    ¡°Yerodin, introducing yourself, sir.¡±


    ¡°Save the formalities for later, have a seat.¡±


    Yerodin pulled up a chair, a little disconcerted. He didn''t know how to react to men like the Director General of the Intelligence Service. It was like talking to an iceberg.


    The man pulled out a drawer and took out a tablet with holoprojection. He activated the holographic mode and a three-dimensional image of two men appeared floating above the table.


    ¡°Do you know who they are?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir. The one on the left is Adisa, son of Azekel, the Sage of Faith. He abandoned mediumship and became a scientist. The one on the right is Ojwang, a mega-businessman in the cyber technology and war industry. He has his own private army and is increasing his influence in the underworld and in the Cabinet of Ministers.¡±


    ¡°He is committed to becoming the new Minister of Science and Technology. He''s signing billion-dollar deals for cyber-military arsenal purchases.¡±


    Yerodin didn''t need to think long to understand the reason for his special call.


    ¡°Do you want me to spy on the relationship between Ojwang and Adisa?¡±


    ¡°Yes, we''ve already created a bridge. Adisa is conducting research into zimba-based algorithms. We need to know the war potential of this research. You will come in as an expert consultant on zimba.¡±


    Yerodin got up from his chair, extended his hand to the agent on the other side of the table and said:


    ¡°Consider it done, sir.¡±


    ¡°I expect no less from patriotic men like you. You''re dismissed.¡±


    Words of order, a half-smile, a veiled compliment, warm handshakes or pats on the back... the medium felt that the real agents could be less dramatic in their posture.


    He walked down the corridors. He was worried that his consultancy would expose his Of¨®. This was an important step towards becoming a Sage of Knowledge. He had good influence in the clan, and had been a pupil of the sage Feruzi, but he didn''t want to rely on favors when it came to his choice.


    He felt a pang of pride. But he didn''t feel bad about it. On the contrary, he thought it was a reward for his good service. He would be leaving the Intelligence Service and would have the Spiritual Key to Knowledge in his hands. He went to the bathroom. He turned on the tap and washed his face. The mirror was cracked from top to bottom.


    He smoothed the crack with his fingertips. The mirror cracked even more, and the shards fell to the floor. The remaining part reflected only part of Yerodin''s face.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Am I getting too close to the sun or is it just me?


    ?


    Yerodin had been working with Adisa for a year. Contrary to what he suspected, the scientist was a man of surgical and refined intelligence, the first to arrive at the lab and the last to leave. As well as research into military engineering, algorithms and new materials, he also invested a lot of time in biomedicine.


    From what the medium had learned so far, Adisa was a widower with a son born with a rare disease. The treatments were expensive and experimental. This forced him to work hard, deliver faster results and even invest his own financial resources in research in partnership with the current Minister of Science and Technology, Ojwang.


    It was the day of the selection test for the Sage of Knowledge. The announcement of Feruzi''s resignation had taken him by surprise. The old medium seemed to be in his prime, and had not shown in previous years that he wished to leave his post.


    The hearings were held in the clan''s meeting center. The candidates would present themselves individually before three evaluators: the Sage of Knowledge, and two other elders.


    Yerodin entered after being announced by a ceremonial assessor. The young medium felt nervous in front of the evaluators. Feruzi offered a gentle smile from under his turquoise robe.


    ¡°Young Yerodin, you are qualified for the Sage of Knowledge test. You have been made aware of your responsibilities, and sworn by witnesses to your position and to protect the Spiritual Key of Knowledge at the cost of your own life. Kindly show us your skills.¡±


    The man swallowed his saliva with an uncomfortable ''glup''. Clumsily, he asked a group of ceremonial advisors to bring him a concrete pillar a meter high, thirty centimeters wide and thirty centimeters long.


    He opened an agenda, a half-worn notebook with a red cover. With his PACR Mediumistic Profile, he applied the spread of his energy to the notebook. He showed the notebook to the evaluators. There were many words written on the pages. He stretched out the index and ring fingers of his left hand and touched the word ''Explode''.


    ¡°I haven''t given my Of¨® a name yet, I''m terrible at these things. With it, I spread my Ax¨¦ on a surface where there are words with actions previously impregnated with Ax¨¦. When I transfer them to the other surface and speak the word, the action contained in it is performed automatically...¡±


    The young man claimed that the Of¨® was being perfected. The smaller the word used in Of¨®, the greater its effect on reality, and the faster its execution.


    After explaining, he carried out the procedure. The word ''Explode'' was drawn to his fingertips and stuck to him like a sticker surrounded by energy. Then he spread it on the concrete pillar. The word became a thread of energy and seeped into the structure of the pillar.


    ¡°Explode.¡±


    Yerodin said, calmly. The pillar disintegrated in a rapid implosion. Fragments of concrete flew everywhere, which startled everyone, ceremonial advisors and elderly mediums alike. Only one man smiled at the young man''s recklessness.


    ¡°Sorry, I should have calculated the explosion better.¡±


    ¡°Hahahahaha.¡±


    One of the elders had a coughing fit because of the dust. The other elder shook his robe to throw the debris away.


    ¡°I can''t believe you''re laughing at this mess.¡±


    ¡°We''re from the Knowledge Clan, not the Bad Mood Clan.¡±


    ¡°Fine! You''re dismissed. Let''s deliberate, the result will be given in thirty minutes. All the candidates will be in this hall.¡±


    ¡°Yes... I apologize a second time.¡±


    Yerodin left the clan meeting hall and was trapped in the corridor between anxiety and the other candidates. Thirty minutes passed like an eternity. The candidates'' comments made him very nervous. Some complained about the test, others boasted that they had won.


    Yerodin stood firm and isolated himself in a corner. He kept quiet to calm his mind. But after the assessors called the candidates, his anxiety was visible again.


    The men and women entered the hall. They knelt on the floor and greeted the ancestors by resting their foreheads on the floor. They remained on their knees.


    Feruzi would give the result, but not without first praising the potential and abilities of each one.


    ¡°I thank Fanta Obatayie and the Entities who preside over our clan for having so many capable young mediums. Our clan has contributed to Of¨®''s innovation for centuries, making it an achievement and a learning experience for the whole of Ilu Nla. So I won''t say that the choice was easy, but we decided according to the highest degree of merit. The next Sage of Knowledge is Yerodin.¡±


    The medium took a while to understand. He had to be pinched and pushed up the steps that separated the young from the old. Stunned, Yerodin knelt before Feruzi, but the latter lifted him by the shoulders and knelt in front of his pupil. He slipped his hand inside his tunic and removed the Spiritual Key from a cord around his albino neck.


    ¡°Today, it is we who must pay homage to our new Sage of Knowledge.¡±


    Feruzi placed the spiritual artifact in Yerodin''s hands. The young man, who was unfamiliar with the formalities of these ceremonies, choked on his words, which amused his master. Yerodin looked around, everyone was paying homage to him.


    He grasped the Spiritual Key of Knowledge and felt the full force of ancestry run through his body. All his fears vanished. He was no longer a medium, he was a sage, and that was something that could not be ignored.

 Song 147: For the nation

    Feruzi''s eyes welled up with tears. He held them back with a barrier of determination.


    Akachi bowed his head, not knowing what to say. The story had ended before the fateful moments that preceded Yerodin''s death. There was no need to say any more about it.


    ¡°I''m sorry, Mr. Feruzi.¡±


    Hakim turned to Akachi, and his Ax¨¦ began to pulse hostilely. Even the non-mediums were affected. Ekundayo had to grab his friend''s shoulder.


    ¡°Are you sorry? Don''t be! Nobody felt anything when he disappeared.¡±


    ¡°Don''t say that, Hakim.¡±


    ¡°Come on, leave me alone!¡±


    Plaft! The Sage of the Law slapped the other sage''s hand. Mediums knew the depths of death, the hard part was facing them. Not everyone versed in the cult of ancestry dealt well with loss. Friends and family succumbed for the most diverse reasons, and those who remained didn''t take it well.


    It was in these moments of denial of the natural cycle that mediumship was perverted. The more attached to life the medium became, the more distant he became from Fante Obataiye.


    Hakim''s heart was full of hurt, and it tore him apart like no other.


    ¡°Yerodin was used as a scapegoat by the Masters of Suspicion, too cowardly to face the real enemy.¡±


    Ekundayo, more aware of the cogs that moved Yerodin''s fate, shook his head with conviction and said:


    ¡°Don''t say that. Don''t blame them, we also condemned Yerodin for treason. That''s why you''re so upset.¡±


    ¡°Take it back!¡±


    ¡°No, I won''t take it back.¡±


    The atmosphere of tension hanging over Hakim only increased. He was in a state of denial. Until the coup d''¨¦tat erupted over the country, everyone believed that Yerodin was really a spy who was handing over the nation''s secrets to internal and external enemies.


    In reality, he was a double spy: he acted on behalf of the mediums against Minister Ojwang, and pretended to spy on the mediums on his behalf. When he discovered the information leaked by the Sage of Knowledge, the super-minister went ahead with his plans and ruined Yerodin''s life, as well as hitting his clan hard.


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    The campaign to massively destroy the image of the most popular sage of the decade paid off for the politician. He created a strong anti-medium sentiment in the population. Public opinion turned heroes into villains very quickly.


    ¡°You want me to accept all this, but I can''t, Ekundayo.¡±


    ¡°Yerodin was a sage, Hakim. He wasn''t a fool or anything like that. He made his choices, it would be unfair not to understand them. Looking for blame for this won''t solve anything.¡±


    ¡°Ilu Nla always seemed very unfair to her children¡­¡±


    Azekel understood well what he was saying. His son had been kidnapped, and his grandson had also been away from him for many years.


    ¡°Yes, ungrateful in many ways, and cruel many times.¡±


    Adisa looked at her father anxiously and said:


    ¡°Dad¡­¡±


    ¡°It''s not true. Ilu Nla made a lot of mistakes, or rather, we made a lot of mistakes with you younger people. We acted like the eagle that lets its eggs be guarded by a snake.¡±


    ¡°Blaming yourself right now won''t solve things or remedy the situation.¡±


    Hearing this, Hakim turned away from Adisa.


    ¡°You talk as if you didn''t have a finger in it.¡±


    Azekel''s son took the cup in his hands. He drank the bitter coffee. He was one of the keys to Ojwang''s rise in Ilu Nla.


    He was one of their most dedicated scientists. If it hadn''t been for Adisa, none of Ilu Nla''s war technologies would have killed his compatriots. Akachi''s father was well aware of the importance of his role in the plot.


    ¡°I know, Hakim. You and anyone else can blame me. I made mistakes, I accept your judgment.¡±


    ¡°Don''t expect condescension from me, you egotist.¡±


    Akachi raised his voice and emitted a pulse of Ax¨¦ that rivaled Hakim''s.


    ¡°Don''t talk to my father like that!¡±


    ¡°Shut up, you brat, this is grown-up talk.¡±


    Hakim turned to Akachi. The teenager didn''t back down and took two steps forward, determined to react in the same way as the sage.


    Feruzi and Azekel stood between the two mediums. They seemed unwilling to let anything serious happen.


    Fadala smiled. He pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket. He searched his pocket for matches or a lighter. To his surprise, Spin Bomb pulled out his portable torch and lit the hitman''s cigarette.


    ¡°Now you know why Ojwang took you over.¡±


    The Sage of the Law pointed an accusing finger at the gunman and gritted his teeth:


    ¡°What did you say, undertaker?¡±


    ¡°Sowing discord between elements so willing to divide is very easy.¡±


    Ekundayo immediately understood his interlocutor''s words.


    ¡°Divide and rule.¡±


    ¡°That''s right.¡±


    ¡°Fadala, Ilu Nla is an ancient kingdom in Africa, but it has never enjoyed real ethnic or political unity. The agreements have been maintained up until now purely out of utilitarianism. We needed this false unity to maintain sovereignty in the face of neighboring kingdoms and European colonizers.¡±


    That didn''t satisfy Akachi, at least not what he wanted to know. How had his father, such an intelligent man, been seduced by Ojwang''s words to the point of using his knowledge to make weapons?


    His family, by action and omission, had participated in the downfall of Ilu Nla. This burden weighed heavily on his shoulders. He felt he had to do something to change the situation. But he needed to know:


    ¡°Father, how could you go along with all this?¡±


    Adisa took a deep breath and put her hand on Akachi''s shoulder. The sadness in her eyes said more than a thousand words.


    ¡°I did all this out of love for you, Furaha. A selfish love that only a desperate father and an embittered widower can cultivate.¡±


    Akachi''s eyes remained steady. Adisa knew that mere sentimental catchphrases wouldn''t be enough. It would take more than that to convince her son.


    Ojwang and Adisa''s fates had crossed in a trivial way, at least that''s what the latter had believed until he learned her true intentions. Anguished, and under the watchful eyes of the mediums, Adisa told his son about his relationship with Ilu Nla''s tormentor.

 Song 148: The nature of Axé

    ¡°Ax¨¦ is an electromagnetic energy, present both in human beings and in their environment. Observing the mediumistic arts and the cult of ancestry, he concludes that Ax¨¦ is endowed with a unique nature¡­¡±


    The young scientist, still a master''s student in particle physics, was giving a seminar to various scientists at the international conference on the Ax¨¦. He wore a passionate smile, almost an attestation of self-confidence. It was one of the few moments when his introversion was not felt.


    His research project dealt with the technological uses of Ax¨¦. It was embryonic research, but it had already attracted a lot of attention. His dissertation would give scientific form to ancestral practices. Ax¨¦, when used by mediums, would pass through three domains until it was transformed into an Of¨®, in other words, a phenomenon that transforms reality.


    The first was the Domain of Potential, the energy system of living beings. At this stage, Ax¨¦, like blood, flows through the body via specific channels, regulated by the seven internal portals, also called ''Thrones of''. They correspond to the seven chackras of Asian religions.


    ¡°This is when the mechanisms called ''Magnetic Properties'' and ''Electrical Properties'' are activated to channel this latent energy.¡±


    The Domain of the Realized is the production of an event through the manipulation of Ax¨¦. These events can be simple, such as producing temporary atomic bonds, or the Of¨®, complex phenomena that cause major concrete changes.


    ¡°The third and final Domain of the Empirical is the observable and quantifiable effect of the event from the previous stage. This is where we see the miracle or the damage¡­¡±


    The audience started laughing. The speaker looked across the first few rows and met the gaze of a beautiful woman in a cheerful Kiswahili print dress. She was impressed by his good humor.


    The man continued his explanation, and pointed out the various uses of Ax¨¦ in technology. Electromagnetic energy is propagated by radiation and waves. It is clean, renewable energy with no propagation limits.


    At the end of the presentation, there was a round of questions and answers. A former Nobel Prize winner in Physics from Eastern Europe raised his hand and asked:


    ¡°Mr Adisa, I am impressed by your advances in characterizing Ax¨¦, but it seems to me that your research denies basic principles of modern physics. Remember that many electromagnetic waves are ionizing and dangerous to the human body. Even if they are transversal and three-dimensional, they end up running into the frequency. On small scales, it might be possible, but for the whole of humanity, I think it''s impossible.¡±


    ¡°I don''t deny or ignore anything, Dr. Jakub Kacper. The ''Laws of Conversion'' are there for that. What I propose is more daring: every human being to be their own power plant.¡±


    The crowd began to stir. The organizers of the talk asked for calm, Adisa would answer all the questions. The questions followed with greater difficulty, but Azekel''s son answered them all satisfactorily.


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    At the end of the lecture, his wife Furaha came up to him, and did not fail to attract glances as she stood up. She was an imposing black woman, standing at 1,80 meters. Her curly hair flowed down her shoulders to the middle of her back. Her plump mouth vied for attention with her light brown, cheerful eyes.


    She congratulated him with a big hug. Although she didn''t understand anything about the subject, she was keen to support her husband.


    ¡°What did you think, did I do well?¡±


    ¡°Yes, you were wonderful!¡±


    As she said this, she smiled and goose bumps appeared on her cheeks. The two of them headed for the entrance, but a gruff voice interrupted them.


    ¡°Forgive me, but I''d like to have a few words with you.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Ojwang? What a distinguished presence.¡±


    Adisa extended her hand to the man in front of her. Ojwang was just as the tabloids described him: dressed in tycoon''s armor and the countenance of an adventurous entrepreneur.


    ¡°Don''t say ''illustrious'', it only flatters us. Is that your wife? She''s lovely, if you''ll pardon the impudence.¡±


    Furaha grimaced when the mega-businessman held out his hand. He shook Ojwang''s hand as quickly as if he were grabbing a reptile''s paw. He didn''t like him at all.


    ¡°Mr. Ojwang, my husband and I are in a hurry. If you don''t mind¡­¡±


    Adisa looked at her in bewilderment. Furaha squeezed his arm tightly, a clear sign that this encounter had made her uncomfortable.


    ¡°I won''t keep you for long. I''m interested in having you on our team. The Ojwang Corporation will be investing in new materials and clean energy in Africa. You can make great contributions. Imagine what we could do with your knowledge and our funding?¡±


    ¡°I promise to think about it, now I need to finish my master''s degree.¡±


    ¡°My company has signed a contract with your university to fund research grants. The field of physics is receiving one of the biggest investments.¡±


    Furaha listened to all this with great apprehension. She sensed that this businessman was not as well-intentioned as he tried to appear. His gentlemanly manners concealed a feeling of superiority, a harsh irony and a vulgar aggressiveness.


    Inquisitive, Furaha crossed her arms and asked Ojwang:


    ¡°Isn''t your company in the arms industry? Why all this investment in technology and energy all of a sudden?¡±


    Ojwang raised his arms as if he had been caught telling a big lie and said:


    ¡°Okay, you caught me. My company needs to diversify its portfolio to survive the competition. New materials and energies are just the beginning. I won''t take up any more of your time. Contact us when you''re ready, we have a decent job offer for you.¡±


    Ojwang left a business card with all the company''s details engraved on it. To their surprise, there was also Ojwang''s personal phone number.


    The couple left the building and took a cab to their home.


    Adisa noticed that Furaha was in a slightly bad mood. Adisa sat on the edge of the bed, loosened his tie and let out a sigh. His wife was changing. He could see her image reflected in the mirror in front of him.


    ¡°What did you think of Ojwang?¡±


    ¡°I didn''t like him, my sixth sense tells me he''s not a good person.¡±


    ¡°Don''t exaggerate, you''ve only just met him.¡±


    ¡°First impressions last.¡±


    Adisa slid her hands over her face. She didn''t want this to turn into a fight. Working with Ojwang could be a golden opportunity in her career.


    ¡°Don''t you think¡­¡±


    ¡°Adisa, enough about work, don''t you think it''s time we had a child?¡±


    Adisa turned her eyes back, and there she was, lying on the bed, in all her naked beauty. The scientist fingered the buttons of his suit quickly. Furaha knelt on the bed and used her long-nailed fingers to help her eager husband.

 Song 149: The widower and the orphan

    The end of her master''s degree distanced Furaha from Adisa. Although her husband tried to be very present in their married life, his research, lectures and interviews took up a lot of her time. She tried not to put too much pressure on him, as he was already under a lot of pressure from his professional demands.


    Her belly was growing and, at the same time, she felt her wife''s health declining. Her desire to have a child prevented her from declaring her uncomfortable state. Every time Adisa asked about her state of health, or how the pregnancy was going, she always hid her pain, sudden weakness and high blood pressure spikes.


    At nine months pregnant, she felt like her sac was going to rupture at any moment. Adisa arrived home after a long journey to the University of Cape Town in South Africa. She had attended a conference on clean and renewable energy.


    Furaha was lying on the sofa. She had huge dark circles under her eyes and pale skin. She was nothing like the woman he had married. He felt his wife was more irritable than usual. She had looked sickly a few weeks ago. He wasn''t the most sensitive man when it came to these matters, but he decided to ask one more time.


    ¡°Isn''t it time you went to the doctor again?¡±


    ¡°You''ll be given the same medication, you''ll need more rest, less stress, blablabla.¡±


    Adisa smiled. She was playing tough. The scientist approached his wife, knelt on the floor and put his face against her belly. With his fingertips, he stroked his wife''s shiny belly.


    ¡°Hello, is anyone home?¡±


    ¡°Akachi''s been kicking all morning.¡±


    ¡°Akachi? We haven''t decided on the baby''s name yet.¡±


    ¡°I''ve decided!¡±


    ¡°Ah! You decided something important all by yourself?¡±


    ¡°It was Grandpa Azekel''s suggestion, it means ''The Hand of God'', I like it.¡±


    Adisa''s face closed as his wife let out a loud laugh that made his stomach flutter.


    ¡°You and my father conspired to choose the baby''s name. I''ve never felt so betrayed.¡±


    ¡°Hihihihi, stop it! Don''t make me laugh like that, silly.¡±


    ¡°I thought that for a big boy, your belly would get bigger.¡±


    ¡°Of course, if it was a girl my belly would be twice as big. Boys take up less space.¡±


    ¡°That''s completely illogical, I doubt there''s any scientific evidence for it.¡±


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    As he said this, Adisa began to kiss his wife''s face and neck. The sparse beard tickled her neck. She had another fit of laughter.


    ¡°Stop it! Don''t make me laugh like that, it makes me want to pee, hihihihihi.¡±


    ?


    The evaluation panel for her master''s thesis included five professors. Two of them were from the Royal University of Ilu Nla, and another two were visiting professors, one from the International University of Science and Technology in Botswana, and the other from the University of Nairobi.


    Adisa passed with full marks and made a good impression on the academics. It was supposed to be a night of celebration, but as the minutes were being signed, someone ran into the room where the dissertation defense was taking place. The messenger''s countenance worried Adisa.


    ¡°Mr. Adisa¡­¡±


    His silence was already a sign of something bad; it was as if, in the absence of words, the bad news could shout.


    ¡°What is it, tell me?¡±


    ¡°It''s your wife, sir. The regional hospital called. Mrs. Furaha was taken to the regional hospital by your father Azekel.¡±


    Adisa gasped. The bag had ruptured when he wasn''t at home. He had asked his father to visit his wife constantly, a correct decision.


    ¡°She''s fine, isn''t she?¡±


    ¡°You''d better go, she''s asked me to go there herself.¡±


    The celebratory mood gave way to enormous tension. Adisa left the room without saying goodbye. She felt a great tightness in her chest. It was guilt, she believed she should be there when she needed her. Now she was there, alone, giving birth to her son in a risky pregnancy.


    That was the kind of thing that her degrees and accumulated knowledge couldn''t help. It was real life happening right before her eyes. It couldn''t be controlled in a test tube.


    It didn''t take him long to get to the hospital. The funereal atmosphere of the delivery room, his father''s melancholy expression, but none of that was worse than seeing Furaha on a hospital bed with lifeless eyes. The blood-soaked bed sheets were a cruel composition.


    Adisa went mute. His ears were ringing as if a bomb had exploded in his head. Her hands were shaking and her face was sweating. Silent tears streamed down her face. It had a name: impotence.


    She approached with resignation and gave her reddened lips one last kiss. The pain of childbirth had made her bite her lips until they bled. She had suffered, but now she no longer did. She no longer felt anything, life no longer existed there.


    The doctors asked him to leave. They needed to prepare the body. He left and went to the newborn room. Outside, through a glass panel, a nurse pointed to a boy crying loudly in the incubator. Adisa thanked and said goodbye to the kind nurse.


    ¡°I''m sorry.¡±


    Adisa turned to the side and saw her father. The old man was more sensitive than him, he had cried more, purged his inner pain more.


    ¡°Don''t be, it wasn''t your fault.¡±


    ¡°He''s as whiny as you are, my son.¡±


    ¡°I wasn''t a crier.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you were, as a baby.¡±


    Adisa swallowed her saliva and choked back a sob. She didn''t want to show weakness in front of the little boy who had just been born.


    ¡°That''s not fair. I feel like I let it happen. If only I''d stayed by her side. I always asked how her health was, she said everything was fine. I didn''t want to worry.¡±


    ¡°Don''t think like that. She sacrificed herself so that your child could be born. A noble thing to do for your family.¡±


    ¡°You talk as if it was the only way to resolve things.¡±


    ¡°It wasn''t, but the other way was even more painful for her. Don''t blame her.¡±


    ¡°What should I do now that she''s gone?¡±


    ¡°You should carry on, for her sake, and for his.¡±


    ¡°You make it sound easy.¡±


    ¡°It''s not, it wasn''t for me after I lost your wife, it won''t be for you.¡±


    Azekel turned away from Adisa. The man continued to stare at the little boy in the incubator. It was inevitable to feel that the boy was to blame.


    ¡°Why did she choose you?¡±


    He rubbed his eyes. He turned his back and let himself slide down the glass until he was crouched on the floor. He wanted to tell himself a lie, one that would make her sacrifice seem like a mistake, one in which he could get rid of his own guilt¡­ Furaha was no longer there, and there was nothing he could do about it.


    She had left the world and entered the layers of spirituality. To Fante Obatiye she walked, like all obedient children after death. Adisa had never hated the cycle of life so much. We were born to die, defenseless against the laws of this world.


    People lived on only as memories, until one day they were forgotten. He wouldn''t forget her, he promised.