ONE YEAR AGO — UNIBEN MAIN ROAD
The sun was merciless.
David, CJ, and Israel walked across the blazing hot pavement, their phones in one hand, chargers dangling from the other. Sweat poured down their faces. The air was thick with heat and the distant smell of plantain chips from a nearby vendor.
"My phone just died," CJ announced, staring at his black screen.
They all grunted. Collective suffering.
"Jane said she'd be at the gazebo," David said, squinting toward Danjuma Hostel. "With a power bank."
"I would kiss her if I thought she'd let me," CJ said.
"She wouldn't."
"I know."
They walked faster.
The gazebo came into view—a small canopy outside Danjuma, shaded and merciful. Jane sat beneath it, legs crossed, a power bank in one hand and a tray of Cokes in the other. Her hair was pulled back. The white tips caught the sun.
CJ broke into a run.
"JANE! YOU BEAUTIFUL ANGEL!"
She laughed—that warm, unfiltered laugh—and tossed him a Coke.
The others arrived seconds later, plugging in their phones, grabbing cold bottles, collapsing into the shade. They drank. They laughed. They complained about the heat and the exam and the lecturer who had set a question on something they'd never studied.
David sat beside Jane. His shoulder touched hers.
"Thanks," he said.
"Someone had to save you idiots."
"Idiots is a strong word but yeah."
She leaned her head against his arm. Just for a moment.
The scene went bright.
White.
Gone.
PRESENT — COVENANT'S BASE — THE FIRST ROOM
David woke up.
The ceiling was white. Familiar. The same room he'd slept in after Axum, after Rebar, after Scotto. Clean sheets. Soft light. The smell of antiseptic and something herbal—tea, maybe.
He moved his arm.
His arm.
He looked down. The burns were gone. The charred flesh, the exposed muscle, the bone—gone. Replaced by smooth, unmarked skin. He flexed his fingers. They worked.
His body was whole.
His chest tightened.
CJ wasn't.
The thought hit him like a physical blow. He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and sat there, staring at the floor.
Today was CJ's birthday.
CJ would never see another one.
He's not coming back.
David pressed his palms against his eyes. No tears came. Just pressure. Just the weight of something that hadn't finished breaking.
Jane. Israel.
He stood.
He found them in the main room.
The large open space with the wooden floors and the weapons racks and the pink doves perched on the rafters. A television screen was mounted on the wall—new, or maybe he'd never noticed it before.
Jane and Israel sat on a bench, side by side, watching the news. Their injuries were healed—no burns, no bandages, no scars. They looked... normal. Like nothing had happened.
Jaron stood by the window, arms crossed. Beside him was a woman David didn't recognize. She looked his age—maybe older—with calm eyes and the kind of posture that said she'd seen things. She wasn't in uniform. Just casual clothes. But she moved like a Vanguard.
Ezra leaned against the far wall, massive and silent. His dark eyes flicked to David, then away.
"…the catastrophic fire that claimed multiple buildings on the UNIBEN campus," the news anchor was saying. "Authorities have confirmed that the suspected arsonist was found dead at the scene, inside the law faculty. His body was reportedly too mangled to be shown on television. The university has released a statement expressing condolences to the families of the victims, including a 300-level Mechatronics engineering student, Christian Jidena, who was identified as one of the casualties…"
David stopped walking.
Christian Jidena.
CJ's full name. He never used it. He was just CJ. Bro. Man. Genius. Now he was a name on the news.
Jane's eyes were fixed on the screen. Israel's too.
David swallowed.
"Hey, guys."
They turned.
Jaron uncrossed his arms, nodded at the woman, and they moved toward the door. Ezra pushed off the wall and followed.
The room emptied.
Just David, Jane, and Israel.
They looked at each other. No one spoke.
The silence was awful.
Israel stepped forward first. He walked past David—close enough to brush his shoulder—and placed a hand on David's back. Not a pat. A press. Just for a second.
Then he left.
The door closed.
David and Jane were alone.
She didn't look at him.
She stared at the floor, her hands in her lap, her posture stiff. The blue scarf was around her neck—the one he'd given her. He noticed.
"Thank you," she said. Her voice was quiet. Controlled. "For saving my life."
"Jane—"
"The guy who did this." She cut him off. "I knew him. A long time ago. Back when I visited my aunt's church. He was... weird. Quiet. He gave me a phone once. I said no." She shook her head.
"Jane, I can explain—"
"Your employers," she continued, still not looking at him, "healed me. Brought me back to normal. Even though medical expertise at its best couldn't have done this."
"Jane."
"I'm not stupid, David."
She finally looked at him.
Her eyes were red. Not from crying—she had done that already. From holding it in.
"This is the time," she said. "Explain."
David sat across from her.
He told her everything.
The Phobias. The Sight he'd had since he was a child. The Covenant. Axum in the courtyard. Rebar in the hotel. Scotto in Ekpoma. The fires. Ruese. Page 52. The chair leg through the heart.
He demonstrated. Opened Page 1—invisible to her—and called the sword. She couldn't see the sword. But she saw the wall behind him split, a clean diagonal cut appearing from nothing.
Her eyes widened. She didn't scream. Didn't run.
She just... watched.
"Your friends," she said. "The ones who healed me. They can do this too?"
"Yes."
"And CJ?"
David's throat tightened.
"He was already gone before I got there. I couldn't—"
"I know." Her voice was flat. "I know you couldn't save him."
She stood.
"Tell your employers I'm grateful."
She walked toward the door.
"Jane—"
She stopped. Didn't turn around.
"How do I leave? This place. I don't want to speak with you. I don't want to be in contact with you anymore."
The words hung in the air.
David didn't answer.
She left. Crying. Softly. The door closed behind her.
He stood there.
No expression.
Just... empty.
He walked forward. Paused.
THREE YEARS AGO —FLASHBACK —
First year. Post-UTME. He was sick—fever, chills, couldn't focus. His screen blurred. His hand shook over the mouse. The timer was running down.
Beside him, a girl with white-tipped hair leaned over.
"You look terrible."
"I feel terrible."
"What Science are you in?"
"Physical science."
She looked at his screen. Looked at hers. Made a decision.
"I'm in life science. But how hard can physical be?"
She reached over and started clicking.
He wanted to stop her. He didn't.
She answered questions. Guessed. Calculated. Typed. When the timer stopped, she sat back.
"Seventy over hundred," she said. "That should be enough."
"What did you get?"
She smiled. "Ninety-two. Pharmacy."
He laughed—weakly, but genuinely.
"I'm David."
"I'm Jane."
They'd been talking ever since.
He asked her out in 200 level.
She said yes.
Now she was gone.
Israel stepped out of nowhere. His hand on David's back again. Same spot. Same pressure.
"Come on."
They walked to the car. Marcel was driving. The ash was in a small wooden box on the back seat—CJ's remains, collected from the old pharmacy faculty, placed there by someone who cared.
No one spoke.
The drive was quiet. The sun was setting.
They were heading to CJ's parents.
David stared out the window.
Today was his birthday.
He's not coming back.
The car kept moving.