The yacht sliced through the lagoon's dark waters, the city a smear of lights on the horizon as Elara poured another gin-and-tonic, the ice clinking like a subtle warning.
Kemi sat straighter, Naomi a silent observer beside her, the _Iwọ̀n_'s presence lingering like a shadow beneath the waves. "So, 'the others'," Kemi said, curiosity piqued.
"Who are they?" Elara smiled, a practiced gesture, as she handed Kemi a glass.
"The Consortium.
Investors, thinkers, power players from across the globe. They see Lagos as... the future.
A test." "For what?" Naomi asked, her voice neutral.
"For how far we can push boundaries," Elara said, gaze drifting to the water.
"EkoBot was just the start.
They want to weave the city's pulse-the _Iwọ̀n_'s energy, the people's creativity-into something bigger.
A smart city, sustainable, efficient."
Kemi raised an eyebrow. "
At what cost?" The yacht slowed, approaching a private island, lights flickering on in palm-tree-lined courtyards like fireflies waking.
Elara stood. "Let's discuss it over dinner.
The Consortium doesn't like delays."
They disembarked onto a dock, the air thick with salt and frangipani as guards in crisp suits fell into step, leading them to a villa that seemed carved from the island itself.
Inside, a long table gleamed under chandeliers, five figures waiting, each a study in control.
_Dr. Malik, a tech guru with a SpaceX pin._ _Senator Wu, sharp-eyed, a politician's smile._ _Amara Rao, an eco-architect with wildflowers in her hair._ _Abraham Obi, a banker whose cufflinks were tiny * ₦_ symbols.* _And a hooded figure, silent, face obscured._ Elara took the head seat.
"Kemi Adebayo.
The one who broke the calabash."
The Consortium members exchanged looks, a spark of curiosity.
Amara Rao leaned forward. "Impressive.
You tapped into something raw." Kemi didn't sit.
"You want the _Iwọ̀n_. Why?" Dr. Malik spoke, his tone clinical. "The _Iwọ̀n_ is a conduit. Energy, data, influence.
With it, Lagos becomes a node in a new internet-clean, fast, controlled.
No more outages, no more slums." Abraham Obi added, "A small price for progress.
We'll uplift the city.
Jobs, infrastructure... you'll be at the forefront, Kemi."
The hooded figure shifted, voice low and distorted.
"But you must agree.
The _Iwọ̀n_ stays contained.
No more... disruptions."
Naomi stepped closer, her voice firm.
"You mean no more people's voice."
Senator Wu leaned back. "Lagos is chaos.
We offer order."
Kemi glanced at the table, the weight of their gaze, the lagoon's pulse thrumming outside.
"You want to own it.
I want Lagos to own itself."
Elara poured wine, a smooth gesture.
"Then prove it.
Tomorrow, the Consortium will present our plan to the city.
You, Kemi, will join us.
Show the people why this is worth it.
Or..." "Or?" Kemi challenged.
The hooded figure leaned forward, voice a whisper.
"Or Makoko wakes up to something it won't recover from."
The table fell silent.
Kemi felt the _Iwọ̀n_ stir, like water lapping at a dam.
Naomi's hand brushed hers under the table-a warning? "I'll do it," Kemi said, meeting Elara's gaze.
"But the people decide."
Dinner followed, a tense dance of smiles and data projections-renewable grids, AI governance, smart homes for all.
Kemi listened, a plan forming, as the hooded figure watched her, unblinking.
Afterward, Elara walked them to the dock, the night thick with possibility.
"Tomorrow's the stage, Kemi. Don't lose."
As the yacht sped back to Makoko, Naomi leaned close. "They're playing with fire.
The _Iwọ̀n_ isn't a tool." Kemi stared at the city's blaze.
"We need to make sure it's our fire."
The piers loomed, Juwon's drums still beating, the crowd thinned but expectant.
Tariq waited, eyes anxious.
"What happened?" he asked.
Kemi smiled, a spark igniting.
"Tomorrow, we take the stage.
Get the word out-Lagos doesn't just listen.
Lagos decides."
The night swallowed their laughter, the _Iwọ̀n_'s presence swelling beneath the waves, as if curious.