Chapter 07

Chapter 07

Convergence

The dream returned—but this time, it was not a memory.

Tunde Adebayo stood at the center of a vast stone chamber. The walls were etched with constellations that did not belong to Earth. Above him rose a pyramid, inverted, floating in darkness. Light poured from its tip, striking three objects suspended in the air:

A cube glowing blue.
A cube burning red.
A ludo board stained black.

A child’s voice echoed—not young, not old.

“When three pieces awaken in one city, convergence begins.”

Tunde woke with a gasp.

The cube on his bedside table was already humming.

By noon, Lagos was unraveling.

Traffic lights across the mainland began switching in impossible sequences. Bank servers crashed simultaneously. A private helicopter was forced into an emergency landing near Victoria Island after its navigation system showed three destination routes at once.

“This is escalation,” Inspector Kunle Ogunleye said, staring at reports flooding in.

“No,” Tunde replied, rubbing his temple. “This is synchronization.”

Kunle looked at him. “English.”

“They’re reacting to each other,” Tunde said. “The artifacts are aligning. The closer their users get—emotionally or physically—the stronger the distortions become.”

Kunle stiffened. “You’re saying they’re moving toward each other.”

Tunde nodded. “And Lagos is the board.”

Sadiq Bello stood on the Third Mainland Bridge, cube in hand, wind tearing at his clothes.

He felt powerful. Frustrated. Alive.

“Why won’t you obey me completely?” he shouted at the cube.

The cube responded—not with light, but with images.

Pyramids.
A boy king screaming as the toys were ripped away.
A city burning under alien skies.

Sadiq staggered back, clutching his head.

“What is this? Does this mean… They took you from him,” he whispered. “Didn’t they?”

The cube pulsed red.

“Then let’s make them sorry.”

Dr. Morayo Kalejaiye packed her artifacts with military precision. Her tone on the secure call was calm, almost bored.

“The convergence window is opening,” she said. “Authorize direct acquisition.”

A pause.

“Civilian losses?” the voice asked.

Morayo glanced at the ludo board.

“Acceptable,” she replied.

Tunde felt it the moment she made the decision.

A sharp, stabbing pain lanced through his chest.

He dropped to one knee.

Kunle rushed to him. “What is it?”

“She’s playing again,” Tunde gasped. “And this time, she’s not aiming at criminals.”

The map of Lagos on the wall changed.

Pins slid across the board on their own, clustering around one location:

National Theatre, Iganmu.

Tunde stared at it, horrified.

“That’s where they’ll converge,” he said.

Kunle’s jaw tightened. “Thousands of people pass through there daily.”

Tunde looked up, eyes bloodshot behind his glasses.

“Then that’s why she chose it.”

As night fell, three forces moved toward the same point.

A boy chasing chaos.
A woman enforcing order.
And a man trying desperately to keep the city alive.

High above the clouds, the ancient observer adjusted its focus.

Convergence was inevitable.

The only question left was who would survive it.