The air in Taye's apartment felt alive.... humming like quiet thunder, the shadows stretching thin as if watching him. The woman in white stood a few steps away, her glow faint but enough to paint the walls in gold.
Taye's voice was calm, but his hands trembled slightly.
"What did you just call me?"
Her golden eyes softened, studying him the way light studies glass.
"Not what you are," she said. "What you used to be."
Taye gave a short, dry laugh. "You sound like one of those prophets at Ojuelegba."
"Prophets speak of what they don't understand," she said quietly. "But you..." she stepped closer "....you've simply forgotten."
Forgotten? The word cut deep, pulling a strange ache in his chest. For a second, his mind flashed..... images of sand, flames, and a name whispered in another language. Then, gone.
He rubbed his forehead. "I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not..."
"Eran," she said.
Taye froze. The room seemed to tilt. "What did you just call me?"
"Eran," she repeated softly. "The one who held the light."
The mark on his wrist pulsed violently, glowing through his skin. Heat shot up his arm. He hissed, clutching it.
"Stop this," he said, stepping back. "What kind of trick...."
"You called me once," she said. "When the Veil broke. When the world forgot what was real."
He stared at her, his detective brain trying to make sense of her words. "The Veil?"
"The boundary between life and what comes after. You helped build it...and then, you broke it."
Taye's heart pounded. "You're insane."
"Am I?" she asked, her voice now soft like a mother's lullaby. "Or are you the one pretending not to remember?"
Before he could speak, the room shifted. The walls of his apartment faded into gray mist, replaced by stone pillars and fire torches. He smelled incense and heard distant chanting, a hundred voices murmuring his name.
Then, it was gone.
Taye blinked hard. The walls were back, but the air still shimmered faintly. He pressed his palms into his eyes, whispering to himself, "You're tired, Taye. You just need rest."
When he looked up again, she was gone. The room was empty, but her warmth lingered.
A knock came from the door. Sharp, urgent.
He opened it to find Inspector Onah, his shirt half-tucked and his face pale.
"Taye, we've got a situation."
"What kind?"
"The first victim's body.... it's missing."
Taye's eyes narrowed. "Missing how?"
"Vanished. Someone broke into the morgue. Security footage went dark for thirty minutes, and when power came back, the body was gone. They left… this."
Onah handed him a photo. It showed a symbol drawn in silver ash... the same one from the last crime scene, only now the crescents faced inward, forming what looked like an open eye.
"You think it's connected?" Onah asked.
Taye didn't answer immediately. He stared at the photo. The edges of the circle seemed to hum. His wrist mark responded faintly under his sleeve.
"Yeah," he said finally, his voice low. "It's connected."
Hours later, night fell heavy over Lagos. Rain slicked the city in silver. Taye sat at his desk, surrounded by old case files, printed photos, and an open laptop glowing with online archives.
He searched for symbols, ancient cults, anything that resembled the mark. Then he found it,a faded document titled: The Veilkeepers, Guardians of the Forgotten Fire.
He scrolled slowly.
"The Veilkeepers served Asha, the goddess who protected the border between the living and the lost. Their leader, Eran of the Light, defied the oath and fell in love with her. The betrayal shattered the Veil and cursed them both to walk the earth again and again, forgetting who they were until the circle of ash was made whole."
Eran of the Light.
Taye's hand trembled as he reread the name.
Could that… could that be what she meant?
He stood, pacing. "No. That's a myth. That's just...."
A flash of light caught his eye. He turned to the window. For a second, he saw her reflection there...not behind him, in the glass.
"You're starting to remember," her voice echoed faintly.
He spun around, but she was gone. Only his own reflection stared back and the faint word written in fog on the window...
Remember.
He touched the letters, whispering, "I'm trying."
By dawn, his wall was covered with maps, photos, and red strings connecting everything, the four crime scenes forming a perfect circle. The same symbol.
His phone buzzed. Inspector Onah.
"Daramola, you need to see this," Onah said the moment he answered. "We ran the blood test from the first victim."
"And?"
"There's no human DNA."
Taye frowned. "You mean the samples were contaminated?"
"No," Onah said. "The lab checked twice. It's not human and not animal either. It's… ancient."
Taye's throat tightened. "I'm coming."
He grabbed his coat and keys, pausing by the mirror. His reflection looked different, eyes tired, face pale, the faint glow of the wrist mark shining beneath the fabric.
Then he saw her again...standing behind him in the reflection, her gaze soft but sad.
"When the circle closes," she whispered, "you'll remember everything. But by then, it might be too late."
Her image dissolved like mist.
As Taye left the apartment, thunder cracked open the sky. Rain poured, washing the city in cold light.
He didn't notice the thin trail of gray ash forming in his footsteps ...each step marking his path with the same cursed sign.
And far away, in the heart of the storm, a pair of golden eyes opened.
A woman's voice drifted through the wind, carried like a secret between worlds.
"Eran… the light is waking."