The moon hung low and wide over Nouvo Lakay, casting silver light across its growing paths. From the sky, the tribe looked like a pulse of life stitched into the earth—glowing fires, quiet conversations, watchful patrols, and the low hum of progress.
Much had changed.
The temple, once just a vision whispered to Milo in a dream, now stood as a living testament to divine instruction and human will. Baron Samedi's mark burned bright in Milo's chest, gifting him knowledge that reshaped not only stone but the very way the people thought about shelter, space, and legacy.
The marketplace, Sael's domain under the guidance of Erzulie Freda, had become more than just a center of trade. It was now a network of alliances. Tribes who once knew only silence or suspicion now shared goods, news, and customs. And behind every trade was Sael—fair, firm, and unfazed.
Thalia, newly chosen by Ogou, had taken command of the tribe's growing defense force. Patrols sharpened. Young warriors trained under her eye, learning not just how to strike—but when. Her presence steadied the people. Her bond with Zion deepened quietly, but unmistakably.
Far from home, Zion and Thalia had wandered through lands sacred and strange. From the gator-spirited water tribe, to the spider-worshippers of the web, to the tribe where Thalia's destiny revealed itself, their journey had shaped them as much as the people they met.
And yet, not all was calm.
Among the visitors at the market, whispers rose—of a tribe that watched but did not trade. Of outsiders asking too many questions. Of gifts offered with smiles too sharp to trust.
But within Nouvo Lakay, a power structure had begun to crystallize—a spiritual and strategic pyramid, with Zion at the unseen peak. Beneath him, the three priestesses—Ayomi of Papa Legba, Ayola of Baron Samedi, and Sael of Erzulie Freda—held their stations like celestial stars guiding the people. Around them, the six trusted companions and builders helped shape the tribe's body and breath.
What was once a group of survivors had become a beacon of strength—not a kingdom, but a sanctuary. Not an empire, but a tribal heart beating louder with every sunrise.
But something loomed. A shift. A tension in the air. A ripple from beyond the known tribes.
And Zion could feel it.
The next steps would test more than strength.
They would test faith, unity, and vision.