2025-07-29 00:04:22The city at night was a different beast. Lights flickered where they once glowed steady. Horns blared without rhythm. People moved faster, talked louder, and trusted less. Jared walked with his hands in his pockets and his eyes sharp.
The system’s mission hovered silently in his mind like a loaded threat.
[Mission 002: Acquire one firearm (pistol or shotgun) within 48 hours.]
Simple. But not easy.
He wasn’t military. He didn’t have criminal contacts—at least not yet. And legal permits? Out of reach. So that left one option: the black market.
In his last life, he’d learned where the cracks in the city ran deepest. There was a spot near the riverfront, where shipping containers were stacked like building blocks and nobody asked questions. He remembered the name of a man who dealt in silence: Koro.
It took two commercial buses and a fifteen-minute walk to get there. The road narrowed the deeper he went, buildings giving way to silence. By the time Jared stepped into the makeshift lot, the air smelled like oil and cold metal.
A skinny teenager with dreadlocks and a split lip stood near the entrance, arms folded. He looked Jared up and down with zero interest.
“You lost?”
“I’m looking for Koro.”
“No one by that name here.”
Jared reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the only thing he knew would open doors—₦10,000 in crumpled bills.
The boy didn’t smile, but he stepped aside.
“Straight ahead. Don’t touch anything.”
Inside the container, the light was dim and yellow. The walls were lined with knives, crowbars, machetes, and—on the far wall—a wooden crate of pistols, all wrapped in black cloth.
Koro was seated behind a rusted desk, counting cash. Bald. Stocky. Dead-eyed.
“You don’t look like my usual buyers,” Koro said without looking up.
“I’m not.”
“Then why are you here?”
Jared didn’t hesitate. “I need a gun.”
“Why?”
“Because something’s coming,” Jared said. “And I won’t survive it without one.”
Koro finally looked up. Something flickered in his eyes. Not belief, but the familiarity of hearing crazy people talk.
“₦120,000 for a pistol,” he said flatly. “Cash.”
“I only have sixty.”
“Then you can buy a knife.”
Jared’s jaw tightened. “What about a trade?”
“I don’t do trades.”
“Information?”
Koro chuckled. “You think I need information? In this city?”
“You will,” Jared said quietly. “In less than a month, nothing in this city will matter. Phones won’t work. Power will fail. People will eat each other alive. You’ll be wishing you had someone like me to warn you earlier.”
Silence stretched.
Koro leaned forward, elbows on the table.
“You on something?”
“No,” Jared said. “But I’ve seen what’s coming. And if you give me one pistol, I’ll pay you triple in two weeks. You won’t need to chase me. I’ll come back to you.”
Koro studied him for a long moment. Then, slowly, he got up, walked to the back shelf, and pulled something out of a drawer. He came back with a matte black pistol wrapped in a cloth and placed it on the table between them.
“₦70,000. Final offer. You get bullets next time.”
Jared hesitated only a second, then pulled out the last of what he had. The money he’d saved for emergencies. What Elena’s father would say if he knew… Jared didn’t care.
The deal was done.
[Mission complete.]
[+1,500 points earned.]
[Combat Tab unlocked.]
In his mind, a new panel opened.
[Combat Tab: Skill Slot 1 – Empty | Weapon Slot 1 – Loaded (Pistol)]
[Locked: Tactical Reflex, Endurance Boost, Precision Mode]
Koro wrapped the gun tight in cloth and handed it over.
“If you’re wrong,” he said, “you’ll be broke, stupid, and alone.”
Jared looked him dead in the eyes.
“If I’m wrong, none of that will matter.”
Back at the Bai residence, it was almost midnight. Jared stepped through the door as quietly as possible, but someone was already waiting in the living room.
Elena.
Still dressed, eyes tired, fingers wrapped around a half-empty cup of tea. Her gaze flicked to him, then to the cloth in his hand.
“You were gone again.”
He nodded. “Had something to take care of.”
“What is it this time?” she asked, voice low. “More dignity?”
He almost smiled. Almost. But the truth weighed too much.
“No. Just protection.”
“From what?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he walked past her, heading up the stairs.
Behind him, her voice followed, quieter now. “Jared…”
He stopped.
She didn’t say anything else.
He didn’t turn around.
“I won’t always be useless,” he said. “You’ll see.”
She didn’t respond.
But she didn’t deny it either.
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Chapter 67- The Thing About Freedom
POV: JaredJared does not tell Emma where he is going.Not because he wants to hide it from her, but because he knows she would come if he asked. And this is something he needs to face without her steadying the ground beneath his feet.The imprint waits where she found it.It does not look dangerous. That is its trick.The place feels quieter than the rest of the world, like sound itself is holding its breath. The air has a faint pressure to it, the kind you feel before rain, before something gives way. The ground here does not quite commit to being solid. It remembers something else.Jared steps closer.The imprint stirs.It recognizes him immediately.Not with words. With knowing.The world tilts, gently, and then the visions begin.Not explosions. Not triumph. No glory.Relief.He sees Emma sitting beside the river, whole in a way that makes his chest ache. Her breath steady. Her gaze clear. No pauses. No flickers. No fear hiding behind her eyes. She laughs without checking herself
Chapter 66- What He Would Erase
POV: EmmaThe question slips out of her before she can stop it.They are not arguing. That is the worst part. There is no raised voice to blame it on. No sharp edge to pretend caused the damage.They are sitting near the river where the water moves slow and patient, like it has nowhere else it needs to be. Jared is skipping stones, not very well. Each one either sinks immediately or hits the surface wrong and dies with a sad sound.Emma watches his hands. Strong. Scarred now. Real.She tells herself not to ask.She asks anyway.“If you could change one thing,” she says quietly, staring at the water instead of him, “would it be me?”The world does not react.The river keeps moving. A bird calls somewhere far off. The question does not echo or shatter anything. It just exists.Jared’s hand stills.He does not throw the stone.He does not answer.That pause stretches, thin and unbearable.Emma feels it inside her chest like pressure building behind glass.She should not have asked. She k
Chapter 65- The Weight of Knowing
POV: JaredJared notices it in the pauses.Emma still walks beside him. Still listens. Still answers when he speaks. But the spaces between her words have grown careful, like she is choosing where not to step.She laughs less. When she does, it comes late, like an echo that almost didn’t bother returning.That night, the fire burns low. Not dying. Just contained. Jared feeds it small sticks, one at a time, watching the way the flames respond immediately now. No correction. No delay. Cause and effect, clean and honest.Emma sits across from him, knees pulled in, arms looped loosely around them. She is staring into the fire but not really seeing it.He does not say her name at first.He waits.The waiting stretches. Too long.“Okay,” he says finally, keeping his voice light on purpose. “You’ve been doing that thing.”She blinks. “What thing?”“The quiet one,” he replies. “The one where you think if you don’t move too much, the world won’t notice you’re there.”Her mouth curves slightly.
Chapter 64- The Imprint
POV: EmmaEmma notices it because the birds stop mid-sound.Not silence. Worse than silence. The echo of a sound that forgets how to finish.She is standing near the riverbank, rinsing dirt from her hands, when the water ripples wrong. Not outward. Inward. Like the surface hesitates, then resumes pretending nothing happened.Her breath catches.She does not call for Jared.Instinct tells her this is not for both of them.She steps closer. The ground feels normal under her boots until it does not. One step is solid, the next sinks a fraction too deep, then snaps back like it regrets allowing her weight. Her head pulses faintly, not pain, just pressure behind the eyes.The world here stutters.She kneels slowly and presses her palm to the earth.It is warm.Not sunlight warm. Active warm.Her glasses are gone. Her tools are gone. But her mind still knows how to listen. She closes her eyes and lets the feeling rise instead of fighting it.Something answers.Not a voice. Not code. A prese
Chapter 63- Something That Lasts a Night
POV: JaredBy the time the light starts to tilt, Jared realizes they have been walking in loose circles.Not lost. Just not going anywhere on purpose.The world here does not rush them. Shadows stretch slowly. The air cools without warning. When the sun lowers, it does not feel like a threat, but it does feel like a question.He stops near a cluster of trees and looks around.“This is as good as anywhere,” he says.Emma nods. She looks tired in a way that has nothing to do with weakness. More like she is learning how to exist inside a body again. She lowers herself onto a rock and watches him.“So,” she says lightly. “What’s the plan?”Jared stares at the trees.He has led evacuations. Built fortresses underground. Optimized supply chains while cities burned. But right now, all he sees is wood and uneven ground and the fact that night is coming whether he is ready or not.“We build something,” he says.She raises an eyebrow. “Something permanent?”He lets out a short breath. “Somethin
Chapter 62- Emma Forgets
POV: EmmaIt happens in the middle of a sentence.Emma is talking about the river. About how the water sounds different here, like it knows where it is going. She is explaining it badly, she knows she is, using her hands too much, trying to describe something that feels more than it sounds.Then she is sitting down.The ground is cool against her palms. Her breath is wrong, too fast, like she has been running. Her heart stutters once, then starts again, hard and uneven.She blinks.Jared is crouched in front of her.Not rushing. Not shouting her name. Just there, steady, eyes sharp, like he has already measured the situation and decided not to be afraid.That scares her more than panic would have.“How long?” she asks.Jared tilts his head slightly. “A few seconds.”Her mouth feels dry. “I was standing.”“You were,” he says.“And talking.”“You were doing that too.”She presses her fingers into the dirt, grounding herself in the pressure. The world feels intact. Too intact. That makes
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