COVENANT BASE 5 DAYS LATER
The base was still healing.
Scaffolding lined the corridors where walls had been rebuilt. The smell of fresh paint mixed with the lingering echo of the bell. But the lights were on. The floors were clean. The dead had been buried.
David found Joy sitting alone in the main room, staring at the ceiling.
"You've been doing that for days now," he said.
"Counting the tiles."
"How many are there?"
"Lost count."
"Hmmph."
David sat beside her. The couch creaked.
"You're not responsible for what happened."
"I was compromised," Joy said. "My eyes went glassy. The sorcerers used me to track them. If I had been stronger—"
"If you had been stronger, the sorcerers would have found another way."
"That doesn't make me feel better."
David leaned back.
"What would Ohi do?"
Joy was quiet for a moment.
"He'd make a joke. Something inappropriate. Then he'd say something wise, and I'd hate him for being right."
"Sounds about right."
"He's not here."
"No. But we are."
"Do you miss him David?"
"Yeah his chats though." David laughed.
The door opened. Jonathan and Praise walked in, their uniforms clean, their faces tired but steady.
"Jaron's called a meeting," Jonathan said. "Everyone."
"Everyone everyone?" David asked.
"Everyone everyone."
---
IN THE MAIN ROOM
Everyone gathered in the main room.
The faces were familiar, but the energy was not. The room felt smaller than it used to. Or maybe the people inside it had just been hollowed out.
VANGUARDS STATUS
David New arm. Green headband. No weapon.
Jonathan Gauntlets dormant. Basically a new body. Arms crossed.
Praise Solar Crossbow manifested, golden light dim.
Tessy Bare feet. Silver boots flickering.
Ivie Monarch's Gauntlet on her right arm. Face blank.
Benjamin Red shutter around his neck. Polaroids in his pocket.
Osagie Red glove humming. Katana on his hip.
Amaka Green orbs orbiting her shoulders.
Marcel Bible in his hand. Still pale, but standing.
Joy Driver's suit. Eyes clear.
Jaron walked in. His shield was not manifested, but his presence still filled the room.
"We're going to the orphanage."
Silence.
"The one Ohi Esosa runs."
"Why?" Tessy asked.
"Because we need to remember what we're fighting for. And because I need to talk to her about her brother."
No one argued.
---
IN JOSEPH'S ROOM
Jaron stood in the doorway.
Joseph sat in his chair, the same chair he had been in for years. The bone tree that had been Ruth still stood in the corner—white, branching, silent.
"There's a way to release Eloghosa," Jaron said.
Joseph looked up.
"But you will die if that happens."
Joseph didn't flinch.
"I want to meet my daughter. Talk to her."
"You will soon."
Jaron didn't tell him that Rachel was a host. That Err lived inside her. That the Covenant had issued an exorcism order.
Some truths were too heavy for a dying man.
He left.
---
THE ORPHANAGE
The building was warm.
Not temperature—atmosphere. The walls were painted with murals of trees and birds and children holding hands. The floors were scuffed from running feet. The air smelled of jollof rice and crayons and something that might have been hope.
Esosa met them at the door.
She was shorter than Eloghosa, but the resemblance was unmistakable—same sharp features, same warm brown skin, same smile that could mean anything.
"Mister Jaron." She hugged him. "Good morning, how are you?"
"I've been better."
She looked at the others. At David's new arm. At Jonathan's cracked gauntlets. At Praise's empty eyes.
"You've all been better."
Behind her, an older woman appeared—grey hair, soft face, hands still wet from washing dishes. Their mother.
"Mama," Esosa said, "this is Mister Jaron. The one I told you about."
Their mother looked at Jaron. At the scars on his face. At the shield that wasn't there.
"You're the one who keeps sending my son into danger."
"Mama—" Esosa started.
"I'm not angry," their mother said. "I'm tired. Come in. I've cooked."
She turned and walked back toward the kitchen.
The Vanguards followed.
---
The Children were everywhere.
Running, laughing, drawing, fighting over toys. A little girl with braids tugged on Jonathan's sleeve.
"Are you a superhero?"
Jonathan looked down at her.
"No."
"Then why are you dressed like one?"
He didn't have an answer.
A boy ran up to David and pointed at his empty back.
"Do you have a sword?"
"No."
"Then what do you fight with?"
David looked at his hands.
"These."
The boy looked unimpressed.
Tessy sat on the floor, and immediately three children climbed onto her lap. She didn't push them away. She just sat there, letting them braid her hair.
Benjamin was showing a group of children his camera. They were fascinated by the polaroids—the ones of buildings, of weapons, of Vanguards mid-swing. He didn't show them the ones of dead men.
Osagie stood apart, watching. A boy approached him.
"Are you Eloghosa's brother?"
"Yes."
"He used to visit us. He'd bring doves."
Osagie's jaw tightened.
"I know."
"Are you going to bring doves too?"
Osagie looked at his red glove.
"I don't have doves. But I can disappear."
He snapped. He was across the room. The boy laughed.
"Do it again!"
Osagie snapped again. And again. The children chased his afterimages, laughing, never quite catching him.
---
Esosa found osagie later, standing alone in the garden.
The sun was setting. The children were inside. The sounds of laughter and running feet had faded to a low hum.
"You're avoiding me."
Osagie didn't turn.
"I'm not avoiding you."
"You've been here three hours. You haven't said a word to me."
"I've been talking to the children."
Esosa walked up beside him.
"You look like him, you know. When he was your age."
"That's how siblings work."
"I know." She touched his arm. "That's not a bad thing."
"He's sealed you know ."
"I know."
"I couldn't do anything. I just stood there. He told me to stay. To help the others. And I listened."
"He was protecting you."
"I don't need protecting."
Esosa was quiet for a moment.
"You're his brother. He's been protecting you since you were born. It's not a habit you break overnight."
Osagie looked at his red glove.
"I need to be stronger."
"You will be."
"How do you know?"
"It's a leap of faith."
"Not this rubbish again."
She smiled.
"Because you're still here. And you're still trying. That's more than most."
She pulled him into a hug.
"Eat something. Mama cooked your favourite."
Osagie didn't argue.
---
IN THE KITCHEN
Their mother was at the stove, stirring a large pot. The smell filled the room—tomatoes, onions, pepper, the rich scent of stew that had been simmering for hours.
She looked up when Osagie walked in.
"You're too thin."
"I'm fine, Mama."
"You're not fine. Sit down jor."
He sat.
She spooned stew into a bowl, added a mound of rice, and set it in front of him.
"Eat."
"Mama—"
"Eat."
He ate.
She watched him, her arms crossed, her face unreadable.
"Your brother," she said. "He never ate enough. Always running off somewhere. Always fighting something."
"I know."
"He'll come back."
Osagie stopped eating.
"How do you know?"
She touched his shoulder.
"Because he's my son. And my sons don't give up."
She walked back to the stove.
Osagie ate the rest of his meal in silence.
---
Esosa found Jaron in the garden, after the others had gone inside.
He was sitting on a bench, looking at nothing.
"You're thinking about Ezra."
"Yes."
She sat beside him.
"He was fourteen when he started following my generation. He used to come here. Before it was an orphanage." She looked at Jaron. "He never smiled. Not once. But he always came."
"He never smiled anywhere."
"The children don't know his name. They just remember a big man who never spoke and always brought fruit."
Jaron closed his eyes.
"Pineapple."
"What?"
"He brought pineapple for Praise. It was the only thing he ever thought about. What fruit people liked."
Esosa was quiet for a moment.
"You knew him better than most."
"Not well enough I guess."
She stood.
"You should eat. Before it gets cold."
"I'm not hungry."
"Eat anyway."
He sighed, pushed off the bench, and followed her inside.
—
AN HOUR LATER
The Whot game started after dinner.
The children had been put to bed—not easily, but eventually. The Vanguards gathered around a table in the common room. The cards were worn, the edges soft from years of use.
Esosa dealt.
"Same rules as always. No cheating, Eloghosa."
She caught herself.
"Sorry."
"He's not here," David said. "But Osagie is."
God that's cringe. David thought.
Osagie raised his hands.
"I don't cheat. I teleport. Different thing."
Oh this guy is way more cringe. David thought again.
"You're not allowed to teleport during Whot," Tessy said.
"You're not allowed to run at super speed."
"That's my Gift. It's not cheating."
"It's cheating."
Oh my God this guy is dragging it. David laughed. Everyone looked at him.
They played.
Jonathan lost first. He usually lost first. He sat back, arms crossed, watching the others argue about who had played out of turn.
Amaka won the first round. Then Benjamin. Then Tessy.
David won the last round. He didn't celebrate. He just laid down his cards and looked at the ceiling.
"One more," Jonathan said.
"You said that three rounds ago."
"One more."
Praise laughed. It was small, tired, but real.
---
After the game, the Vanguards scattered—some to help with dishes, some to sit outside, some to sleep in the rooms Esosa had prepared.
David found Jonathan in the hallway, staring at his phone.
"You've been looking at that for ten minutes."
"I'm thinking."
"That's dangerous."
Jonathan didn't laugh.
"Zara. The girl from the boutique."
"I remember."
"She texted me. A few times. I didn't reply."
"Why not?"
"Because I didn't know what to say."
David took the phone from his hand.
"David—"
"What's her number?"
"You can't just—"
David found the contact. Pressed call. Handed the phone back.
Jonathan stared at it.
"It's ringing."
"Answer it."
Jonathan raised the phone to his ear.
"Hello? Zara?"
David walked away, smiling.
---
OUTSIDE OF THE ORPHANAGE
Tessy sat on the steps, looking at the stars.
Osagie stood beside her, his red glove dim.
"Do you think he's okay?" he asked.
"Eloghosa? I don't know."
"Do you think he knows we're still fighting?"
"Yes."
"How?"
Tessy looked at the sky.
"Because he's Eloghosa. And Eloghosa always knows."
Osagie was quiet.
"I'm not him," he said.
"No. You're not." Tessy stood. "You're his brother. That's different."
She walked inside.
Osagie stayed on the porch, looking at the stars, his red glove humming faintly in the dark.
---
THE NEXT MORNING
They left at dawn.
The children were still sleeping. Their mother stood at the door, her arms crossed, her face tired.
"Come back," she said. "All of you."
"We will," Jaron said.
She looked at Osagie.
"Bring your brother back."
Osagie nodded.
"I will."
Esosa stood beside their mother, not speaking, just watching.
The Vanguards walked to the cars.
David looked back at the orphanage—at the warm lights, the painted murals, the place where Eloghosa had been more than the Strongest.
He had been a son. A brother. A man who brought doves to children who had nothing.
"We're going to get him back," David said.
God I just embarrassed myself. David thought.
No one answered.
But no one disagreed.
---