BACK TO GOLGOTHA
Chapter Six: The Net Tightens
By the time the semester reached its midpoint, Stephen understood a hard truth: darkness rarely attacks all at once. It tightens slowly—like a net drawn inch by inch—until escape seems impossible.
The campus still looked the same. Students laughed. Lecturers complained. Life moved on. But beneath the surface, something had shifted. Stephen could feel it in his spirit, a constant pressure, as though the air itself had grown heavier.
KOA was no longer testing him.
They were planning.
A Change in the Atmosphere
Prayer had become Stephen's refuge. He woke before dawn now, long before the sounds of campus life stirred, kneeling beside his bed with his Bible open. Sometimes words came easily. Other times, all he could offer was silence and tears.
Favour noticed the change.
"You're carrying something," she said one evening after fellowship. "Not fear—weight."
Stephen nodded. "It feels like something is forming. Like a storm gathering strength."
She didn't argue. "That's because it is. When darkness realizes it can't stop you easily, it reorganizes. KOA won't rush anymore. They'll surround."
Her words settled heavily in his chest.
The Reach of KOA
That same night, far from the university, Baba Dagunduro stood in a hidden grove deep in the forest of Ondo. Fires burned low, their flames blue and unnatural. Around him stood figures—men and women bound by oaths, their faces unreadable.
KOA had grown.
"You said the boy would fall," one voice hissed from the shadows.
"He will," Baba Dagunduro replied calmly. "But not by force. We will choke his paths. His friends. His body. His future."
A name was spoken—an old friend, now powerful, a man seated in government halls.
"The alliance stands," Baba Dagunduro continued. "Power in the physical realm. Authority in the spiritual. Nigeria will feel us."
In the unseen realm, something vast shifted—like roots spreading underground.
Pressure Without a Face
Stephen began to notice resistance everywhere.
Doors closed unexpectedly. Opportunities slipped through his fingers. Minor illnesses lingered longer than normal. Sleep became shallow, filled with restless dreams.
Yet no single thing was severe enough to explain the exhaustion he felt.
That was KOA's design.
They pressed without revealing themselves.
One afternoon, Stephen collapsed on a bench outside the lecture hall, breath shallow, heart racing. For a moment, the world blurred.
"Stephen!" Favour rushed to his side.
"I'm fine," he lied.
But they both knew he wasn't.
The Warning Dream
That night, Stephen dreamed again.
He stood in a wide plain, cracked and dry. In the distance rose a structure—vast, dark, and alive. Symbols burned along its walls. Voices echoed from within.
KOA.
As he watched, lines of people walked into the structure willingly. Some wore smiles. Others looked afraid. None came out.
Behind him, a voice spoke—gentle, firm, unshakable.
"This is what happens when compromise is allowed to grow."
Stephen turned, but the light behind the voice was too bright to look at directly.
"Stand," the voice said. "Or be absorbed."
He woke with a sharp gasp, sweat soaking his clothes.
Favour's Stand
The next day, Favour did something unexpected.
She called a small group together.
No music. No noise. Just prayer.
"This is no longer about Stephen alone," she said. "KOA is moving wider. If we don't stand together, they'll pick us off quietly."
They prayed for hours—against fear, against deception, against unseen manipulation. Stephen felt strength return, slow but real, like breath filling lungs that had been starved.
For the first time in days, the pressure eased.
But only slightly.
The Charm Reacts
That night, the charm around Stephen's neck—silent for weeks—grew cold.
Not warm. Not heavy.
Cold.
A whisper brushed his mind, careful and calculated.
You are tired. You don't have to fight anymore.
Stephen sat up, heart pounding.
"No," he whispered. "I belong to Christ."
The cold intensified, then snapped away violently, as if something had been burned.
Stephen fell to his knees, shaking.
KOA had crossed another line.
The First Loss
Two days later, news spread across campus.
A student—active in fellowship—had withdrawn suddenly. No explanation. No goodbye.
Stephen felt it in his spirit immediately.
KOA had claimed ground.
"They're expanding," he said quietly to Favour.
"Yes," she replied. "And now it's personal."
A Resolve Is Formed
Stephen understood something then with terrifying clarity:
This war would not remain hidden forever.
If he stayed silent, KOA would grow.
If he stood firm, the attacks would intensify.
There was no middle ground.
That night, Stephen prayed differently.
"Lord," he said, voice steady despite the fear, "I will not hide. I will not compromise. Even if I stand alone, I choose You."
In the spirit realm, light surged outward from him—not explosive, not dramatic, but firm and immovable.
Like a cross planted into the earth.
KOA Responds
Baba Dagunduro felt it.
He stopped mid-ritual, eyes narrowing.
"The boy has chosen war," he said slowly.
A low, cruel smile formed.
"Then war he shall have."
End of Chapter Six
Stephen didn't know what the next days would bring.
But he knew one thing with certainty:
The net had tightened.
The war had widened.
And there was no turning back.
"When the enemy shall come in like a flood, the Spirit of the LORD shall lift up a standard against him." — Isaiah 59:19