The gold had not moved.It sat where Aderonke had left it the night before—on the low wooden stool beside her bed, quiet, heavy, patient.Waiting.Morning light slipped through the cracks in the wall, touching the pouch just enough to make it glow.Aderonke stared at it.“You’re still here,” she murmured.Of course it was.Gold did not leave.People did.A knock came at her door.Sharp. Controlled. Unfamiliar.Her body tensed.“Who is it?” she asked.“From Chief Afolabi.”The answer came without hesitation.Her stomach tightened.“I’m not receiving visitors.”“You don’t have to,” the voice replied. “But he insisted this be delivered.”A pause.Then something slid beneath the door.Aderonke waited a moment before moving.Slowly, she bent down and picked up the folded cloth.Inside was not gold.Not this time.It was a bracelet—thin, elegant, unmistakably expensive.And a note.She unfolded it.> “Security is not a cage. It is a foundation.You deserve more than uncertainty.”No signatu

Night fell without ceremony, but the land felt different.The wind moved slower. The trees seemed to listen. Even the earth beneath Egba held a quiet tension, as if something unseen was preparing to take root.Deep beyond the outskirts of the city, hidden between jagged rocks and thick forest, a clearing opened like a secret carved out of the world. It was not a place people stumbled upon. It was chosen.Torches burned in a wide circle, their flames steady despite the breeze. Shadows stretched long across the ground, forming shifting patterns that looked almost alive.Men stood within that circle.A hundred of them.Farmers. Hunters. Former guards. Men who had known injustice firsthand. Men who had lost something—family, dignity, peace. They stood in silence, their expressions hardened not by fear, but by purpose.None of them spoke.Because they were waiting.Omogun stood just beyond the light.The mask rested in his hand.His eyes moved across the men gathered before him, studying t