Morning arrived earlier than Jay needed.
His eyes opened at six out of habit, even though there was nowhere he needed to be.
For a few seconds he lay still, staring at the ceiling above his bed. The thin crack above the window stretched across the plaster like a crooked river. He could have sworn it hadn't been that long before.
Or maybe he had simply never bothered to look closely.
That had been before yesterday.
Before losing his job.
Before discovering that twelve hundred naira was the full extent of his financial future.
Jay exhaled slowly and rolled out of bed.
The apartment felt different in the morning when you had nothing to rush toward. The quiet wasn't peaceful. It was heavy.
He shuffled into the kitchen and filled a kettle halfway with tap water. While it heated, he leaned against the counter and scrolled through his cracked phone screen.
Three new messages.
Two from his mother.
One from his cousin asking if he had "sorted out the job thing yet."
Jay locked the phone again.
The kettle clicked.
He poured hot water into a cheap plastic bowl and dropped in a block of instant noodles. Steam rose in thin curls that fogged the cracked window above the sink.
Five minutes later he ate them standing up.
Not because he liked standing.
Because sitting felt like admitting the day had nowhere to go.
9:30 AM
Jay was still wearing yesterday's shirt when the knock came.
Three sharp hits against the door.
Not polite.
Not hesitant.
Just knock. knock. knock.
Jay frowned.
"Coming."
He opened the door.
A delivery man stood in the hallway wearing a bright yellow vest. The man held a scanner in one hand and a small package tucked under his arm.
The box was about the size of a shoebox, wrapped in thick brown paper.
The delivery man didn't look up.
"Jay Okafor?"
"Yeah."
The scanner beeped.
"Sign here."
Jay took the stylus and scribbled his name across the screen.
The delivery man immediately passed him the box.
"Thanks."
Jay opened his mouth to ask a question—
But the man was already walking down the corridor.
By the time Jay stepped into the hallway, the delivery man had reached the elevator.
The doors slid open.
He stepped inside.
The elevator closed.
Gone.
Jay stood there for a moment holding the box.
The hallway returned to its usual silence.
At the far end of the corridor, a window looked out over the street. Jay walked toward it just in time to see a plain white van pulling away from the building.
No company logo.
No markings.
Just a vehicle disappearing into traffic.
Jay looked down at the package.
"Okay…"
He went back inside.
The box landed on the kitchen counter with a dull thud.
It was heavier than it looked.
Jay turned it slowly in his hands.
His name was written across the paper in careful handwriting.
Jay Okafor
Apartment 4B
Meridian Heights
Everything was correct.
But something about the package felt… wrong.
There was no return address.
No postage.
No courier label.
Just neat brown paper folded tightly around the box.
Jay tapped the counter with his fingers.
"Probably a mistake," he muttered.
Still.
He didn't open it.
Instead, he filled the kettle again and made tea.
The act gave his hands something to do.
The kitchen filled with steam while he leaned against the counter, watching the package like it might move if he looked away.
The tea finished brewing.
Jay took a sip.
Too hot.
He waited.
Then drank again.
Half the cup disappeared before he realized he had been staring at the box the entire time.
Finally he set the mug down.
"Alright."
He reached forward.
The brown paper peeled away easily, unfolding like someone had wrapped it carefully with the expectation that it would be opened soon.
Underneath was a case.
Matte black.
Not plastic.
Not metal.
Something smoother than both.
Jay placed his palm against it.
The surface felt faintly warm.
That was strange.
It had only just arrived.
There was a small white label on the lid.
Jay leaned closer.
The text was printed in sharp black letters.
UNIT SEVEN — PROPERTY OF THE ORDER
DO NOT OPEN IF UNASSIGNED
Jay straightened slowly.
"Unassigned?"
He glanced toward the apartment door.
Then back at the case.
His name had been on the package.
His exact address.
Someone had delivered it directly to him.
But the label clearly suggested it belonged to someone else.
Jay folded his arms.
"Not my problem," he said out loud.
He walked away from the counter.
He circled the kitchen.
Finished his tea.
Washed the cup.
Dried it carefully.
Placed it back into the cabinet.
Then he turned around.
The black case sat exactly where he had left it.
Waiting.
Jay walked back toward it.
The warmth seemed stronger now.
Not hot.
But noticeable.
Like a laptop that had been running for a while.
He frowned.
"Okay, that's weird."
He leaned closer.
The warmth didn't feel passive.
It felt… active.
As if something inside was quietly running.
There was a small clasp on the front of the case.
Simple metal.
One press would release the lid.
Jay stared at it.
"You're not opening that," he told himself.
Silence answered.
He sighed.
"Just checking what it is."
His thumb pressed the clasp.
Click.
The lid shifted slightly.
A thin line of light spilled through the gap.
Jay froze.
The light pulsed faintly.
Not white.
Not blue.
Something in between.
A soft glow that brightened and dimmed in a slow rhythm.
Jay swallowed.
"Well… that's not normal."
He lifted the lid.
Inside the case sat a device.
It was roughly the size of a smartphone.
Thin.
Rectangular.
Completely black.
But the screen wasn't glass.
It looked more like the surface of still water—dark and reflective, yet somehow deeper than it should have been.
There were no buttons.
No charging port.
No logo.
Nothing to indicate who made it.
The faint glow pulsed beneath the surface.
Jay reached out.
His finger hovered over the device.
"This is how people end up on the news," he said quietly.
He touched it.
The reaction was immediate.
The screen lit up.
Symbols burst across the surface—sharp white characters that moved too quickly to read.
Jay jerked his hand back.
The symbols froze.
Then rearranged themselves.
A single line of text appeared.
USER DETECTED
Jay blinked.
"Excuse me?"
More text appeared.
ASSIGNMENT REQUIRED
Below it, a single circular icon slowly formed in the center of the screen.
It looked like a button.
Jay stared at it.
"Yeah… no."
The device emitted a soft tone.
New text appeared.
MISSION READY
Jay leaned closer.
"You've got the wrong guy."
The screen flickered again.
PRIMARY USER CONFIRMED
Jay pointed at himself.
"No. Incorrect. Definitely incorrect."
The device pulsed brighter.
The circle expanded slightly.
A single instruction appeared beneath it.
PRESS TO BEGIN
Jay stared at the button.
The apartment felt strangely quiet.
Outside, traffic hummed faintly through the window.
Inside, the device waited.
He rubbed his face.
"This is how horror movies start."
The circle pulsed again.
Jay sighed.
"I'm unemployed, broke, and now arguing with a mystery phone."
He looked at the button.
Then at the door.
Then back at the device.
"Well…"
His finger moved slowly toward the screen.
"Worst case scenario," he muttered.
"I explode."
His finger touched the circle.
The device flashed.
And the screen displayed three words.
MISSION STARTED
Jay blinked.
"...What?"