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Chapter Twenty-Three: The Coalition Forms
The sky above Lagos was a bruised purple, thick with smoke and Mana residue from recent clashes. Fires flickered across the city's outskirts, reflecting in the creased waters of the lagoon. Zombie packs roamed unchecked in some districts, drawn by the faint hum of residual Mana, while rogue human militias tried, and failed, to claim territory amidst the chaos.
From a fortified command center in the city's highest tower, Dele observed the scene. His fingers hovered above the holographic map that displayed the delta, the lagoon, and the expanding urban districts. Every zombie cluster, every human militia, every Mana node pulsed beneath his gaze, and he felt their patterns like threads in an immense, living lattice.
"Kairo," he said, voice calm but edged with authority, "how long before the northern corridor units secure the lagoon districts?"
Kairo, standing at the console, his eyes darting between multiple feeds, replied: "Another six hours for complete stabilization. Zombie packs are persistent, human resistance is fragmented, but there's movement in the west. Intelligence suggests rogue nations are coordinating beyond our borders — they are forming a coalition to challenge the union directly."
Dele's eyes narrowed. "Then we must anticipate their every move. Let them gather. Let them think they are in control. By the time they act, the currents will already bend their intentions against them."
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Across the lagoon, the first signs of the coalition appeared. Distant helicopters traced arcs over the water, dropping human units armed with experimental Mana-disrupting devices. Zombies surged from abandoned buildings, their guttural cries echoing over the river. The city streets became a chaotic funnel of violence — humans fighting humans, humans fighting zombies, and Mana currents weaving through it all like invisible threads of control.
Kairo's division moved swiftly, reinforced by Mana-amplified energy shields. He barked commands in rapid Igbo and Hausa, "Chukwu! Hold the line! Wá n'azụ!" ("By God! Hold the line! Fall back if necessary!") Soldiers responded, firing controlled Mana blasts that sent zombies flying into barricades. The human militia, panicked and uncoordinated, fell back into chokepoints where Kairo's units struck decisively.
Dele extended his awareness across the battlefield, manipulating Mana flows subtly. Zombie packs were redirected, funneled into enemy paths, and used to amplify the disarray among rogue humans. "Observe the lesson," he whispered, eyes narrowing. "Chaos can be controlled. Only knowledge guides survival."
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Political threads began to tangle as Dele received word of coalition diplomacy. Rogue nations — both outside Africa and small, dissident states within — were coordinating via encrypted Mana channels. They discussed strategies, traded intelligence, and attempted to destabilize the union through sabotage and bribery.
Dele's lips curved into a faint smile. "Let them conspire. They teach themselves the weight of underestimation."
He deployed Kairo to execute a series of rapid, high-precision raids across critical nodes:
Mana amplification hubs in the city were reinforced and hidden to prevent sabotage.
Zombie containment corridors were extended, allowing undead packs to act as unpredictable pressure against enemy human forces.
Communication lines were monitored, giving Dele real-time insight into coalition strategies.
The result was chaos for the coalition — their moves anticipated, their humans delayed, their zombies unknowingly funneled into controlled paths that amplified their own losses.
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By mid-afternoon, the city's streets were a mix of fire, water, and Mana arcs. Zombies clawed through barricades, snapping at militia, their glowing eyes reflecting the Mana-infused energy around them. Kairo moved between squads, Mana whip in hand, striking zombies and humans alike who dared disrupt the controlled chaos.
"Ọ ga-adị mma," he muttered in Igbo, calming a panicked squad. ("It will be fine.") The soldiers responded with renewed focus, using the pressure of constant attacks to hone their efficiency.
Dele's POV revealed the battlefield as a multi-layered chessboard. Every human militia was a pawn, every zombie a catalyst. Currents bent subtly, creating invisible channels for reinforcements, redirecting enemy units into traps, and amplifying the union's control.
The coalition, confident in their numbers and Mana-disrupting technology, underestimated the precision and foresight of a strategist who had mastered the very currents they sought to manipulate.
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Night fell, and the city became a river of glowing Mana and crimson blood. Fires illuminated distant mangroves, zombie packs prowled in the shadows, and Kairo's squads maintained a relentless pressure, striking both human and undead threats with exacting efficiency.
Dele remained in the command tower, projecting Mana currents across the battlefield, reinforcing weak points, and orchestrating attacks like a conductor guiding an orchestra of chaos. He allowed coalition leaders to believe they had freedom, only to funnel their actions into predictable outcomes.
"Every attempt to disrupt us is a lesson," he murmured. "Every zombie, every panicked human, every fire — it teaches the value of control and the inevitability of mastery."
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Over the next two days, the coalition's attempts intensified. Human squads moved in coordinated attacks, reinforced by small zombie packs they had captured and weaponized. Bridges exploded, streets became traps, and Mana currents surged in chaotic flashes across urban zones.
Kairo coordinated defensive maneuvers, guiding units through ambushes, reinforcing Mana grids, and neutralizing hybrid threats before they could breach core positions. Soldiers, initially hesitant, learned to fight under continuous pressure, their training honed by constant undead threats.
Local phrases peppered the battlefield commands — Yoruba, Hausa, Igbo — adding rhythm and urgency to maneuvers:
"Ẹ jẹ́ kí wọn rí ìbágbé!" ("Let them see defeat!") — Kairo shouted over the din.
"Ku dákẹ́!" ("Fall silent!") — to squads holding chokepoints against zombie packs.
"Kwụsị!" ("Stop!") — warning soldiers of sudden Mana surges or collapsing structures.
The cultural authenticity grounded the soldiers' experience and reinforced a sense of place and identity amidst chaos.
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By the third night, the coalition's offensive faltered. Zombies, once considered uncontrollable, had become instruments of tactical pressure. Rogue human units were fragmented and demoralized. Dele's Mana lattice extended across the city, predicting and redirecting every threat, ensuring minimal losses for the union while maximizing enemy disarray.
Kairo reported: "City secured. Coalition units scattered. Zombie packs contained within controlled corridors. No critical nodes lost."
Dele allowed himself a rare, quiet smile. "Good. Let them know the cost of underestimation. Africa bends, not through brute force alone, but through knowledge, foresight, and mastery. Every threat, human or undead, is a teacher. We are the masters."
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In the aftermath, Dele convened his inner council. The union's expansion continued:
Mana infrastructure strengthened across urban and rural zones.
Zombie pressure integrated into defensive and offensive strategies.
Coalition intelligence analyzed and countered, preparing for future confrontations.
The lesson was clear: survival depended on adaptation, obedience, and mastery of the currents. Africa had survived the first international challenge, and the union's dominance was cemented through both strategy and the relentless presence of undead threats.
Kairo, watching the city settle into tense quiet, muttered softly, "Ọ bụ eziokwu, ha na-amụta." ("It's true, they are learning.")
Dele's gaze stretched over the horizon, Mana currents pulsing faintly beneath the earth. "They will learn," he whispered. "And the world beyond these borders will remember the power that rises from the continent."
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