Chapter Nineteen: The Price of Standing
The night Stephen lost his peace, the wind refused to sleep.
It moved restlessly through the trees around the campus, whispering through broken branches and rattling zinc roofs like unseen fingers tapping warnings. Stephen sat on the edge of his bed, Bible open but unread, eyes fixed on a single verse he had stared at for nearly an hour without understanding a word.
The silence from heaven had not lifted.
But something worse had taken its place.
A heaviness.
It pressed against his chest like a stone, making every breath feel deliberate. This was no longer just spiritual quietness. This was anticipation—like the air before a storm breaks.
Stephen closed the Bible slowly.
"Something is coming," he whispered.
In the spirit realm, something already had.
KOA's New Strategy
Baba Dagunduro stood within the inner circle of KOA's spiritual headquarters, a vast dark plain suspended between realms, lit only by red embers that floated like dying stars. Around him stood elders, priests, and initiated agents—men and women whose physical bodies slept across Nigeria while their spirits gathered here.
"The boy has passed the test of silence," Baba Dagunduro said calmly.
A low murmur spread through the assembly.
"He did not curse God," one elder spat. "He did not return to us."
Baba Dagunduro raised his staff, and the murmuring ceased.
"Then we escalate," he continued. "Faith that survives silence must be attacked through sacrifice."
The word sacrifice echoed.
Ayanmo, the ancient spirit bound to Baba Dagunduro's lineage, coiled uneasily in the shadows.
"What must be taken?" it hissed.
Baba Dagunduro's eyes hardened.
"Something he loves. Something that anchors him to hope."
Favour's Burden
Favour woke up gasping.
Her room was dark, but her heart raced violently, as though she had run miles. Sweat soaked her clothes. She sat up and clutched her chest, her spirit trembling.
She had seen fire.
Not the holy kind.
She had seen chains.
And she had seen Stephen standing between two altars—one stained with blood, the other soaked with tears.
"Jesus," she whispered, sliding off the bed to her knees. "This one is bigger than before."
She reached for her phone and dialed Stephen.
No answer.
She tried again.
Still nothing.
Fear wrapped around her heart.
The Attack Begins
Stephen was on his way back from a late prayer walk when the pain struck.
It was sudden.
Sharp.
Like a blade driven into his lower back.
He staggered, gripping a nearby wall as his legs weakened beneath him. His vision blurred, and his breath came out in broken gasps.
"No," he muttered. "Not again."
The sickness planted by Risi had never fully left. It had retreated, weakened by prayer, but never completely destroyed. Now, it surged like a beast released from chains.
Stephen collapsed to his knees.
In the spirit realm, KOA rejoiced.
Between Life and Faith
Hours later, Stephen lay on a narrow hospital bed, fluorescent lights buzzing above him. Doctors moved in and out, their voices low and uncertain. Favour stood by his side, gripping his hand tightly, tears streaming silently down her face.
"They say it's aggressive," she whispered. "But I know this is not ordinary."
Stephen forced a weak smile. "This is not the end."
But even as he spoke, doubt knocked loudly at his mind.
What if this is the price?
What if obedience leads to loss?
The questions hurt more than the pain.
Baba Dagunduro's Visit
That night, while Stephen drifted in and out of sleep, the room grew cold.
The machines slowed.
The air thickened.
Stephen opened his eyes—and froze.
His father stood at the foot of the bed.
Not physically.
Spiritually.
"You see," Baba Dagunduro said softly, "this is what defiance brings."
Stephen tried to speak but could not.
"You could have ruled beside me," his father continued. "Instead, you kneel to a God who allows you to rot."
Stephen gathered what little strength he had.
"My God died… and rose," he whispered. "Can yours say the same?"
Baba Dagunduro's face twisted with fury.
"This stubbornness will bury you," he snarled before vanishing.
The Watchmen Rise
Favour did not sleep.
She called the watchmen.
One by one, they gathered—not in a building, but in agreement. Across rooms, across cities, across campuses, they prayed.
Not emotional prayers.
War prayers.
They fasted.
They wept.
They declared Scripture into the silence.
And something responded.
Golgotha Revisited
Stephen dreamed again.
He stood at Golgotha.
But this time, he was not alone.
He saw Christ on the cross—bloodied, silent, yet victorious.
Then he heard a voice:
"Can you drink the cup I drank?"
Stephen fell to his knees.
"Yes," he whispered. "Even if it costs me everything."
The sky split open.
Light poured through.
KOA's Shock
In the spirit realm, alarms sounded.
The sickness recoiled.
Altars cracked.
"He has surrendered completely," an elder screamed.
Baba Dagunduro clenched his fists.
"Then this war has changed," he said darkly. "If he survives this, he will become dangerous."
A Flicker of Hope
Stephen woke up at dawn.
The pain had not vanished—but it had weakened.
For the first time in days, he felt peace.
Favour smiled through tears.
"You're still here," she said.
Stephen nodded slowly.
"Yes," he replied. "And now… I understand."
This war was not about comfort.
It was about testimony.
And Stephen Dagunduro was no longer just surviving.
He was being forged.
Bible Verse for Chapter Nineteen
"Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him: but I will maintain mine own ways before him."
— Job 13:15