The ground had not stopped trembling since they arrived.
Not violently.
But persistently.
Like something beneath them was… listening.
"This is a dangerous process," Ojadili said, his voice carrying the weight of command. "If you fear risking your life to destroy this relic, you may withdraw now."
Udonkanka laughed.
"Bro… it's only me and you. Why are you forming?"
The laughter slipped into Ojadili's chest despite his effort to remain stern.
"Well," he said, straightening, "let's say it's for the record."
Silence returned.
The Oja lay between them.
The air felt thick — charged — like the sky before a war.
They had traveled far from the village. Barren land. No huts. No farms. No witnesses.
Only wind. Dust. And fate.
Ojadili's gaze hardened.
"No matter what happens to me… this Oja will not leave here undestroyed. Even if Ekwensu attacks. Do we have a deal?"
Udonkanka sensed the unease beneath the words.
"Deal."
He licked dust from his lips.
Ojadili did the same.
A covenant.
They stood opposite each other, the large ritual circle between them.
---
Ojadili placed the Oja at the center of the markings drawn earlier by the Diviner.
For a moment—
Nothing happened.
And somehow—
That was worse than resistance.
He began the first ritual.
He called.
The relic did not respond.
They tried the second rituals.
Names spoken in reverse.
Symbols drawn in dust.
Invocations whispered to gods who did not answer.
Nothing changed.
The silence that followed was not empty.
It was watching.
The Oja did not resist.
It simply… refused.
Until there were no rituals left within their knowledge.
Both men sank to the ground, exhausted.
For a fleeting moment—
Ojadili felt it.
A thought.
Not his.
Clear.
Simple.
Dangerous.
*Why destroy what you have not yet understood?*
His fingers tightened instinctively.
The thought vanished.
But the question remained.
The Wind continues .
Dragging dust across the circle.
Ojadili stared at the relic,
More Dangerously.
Thoughts colliding in his mind — until memory struck.
Amamiheuwa's letter.
His eyes widened.
"We can still destroy it."
Udonkanka turned sharply.
Ojadili knelt.
One hand lifted in humility. The other trembled with resolve.
He bowed toward the unseen Maker.
"We did not come out of fear. We came because this relic has become a threat to mankind. Destroy its function. Preserve its soul, if it has one. Give it a new form."
Ojadili stared at the Oja.
Not as a weapon.
Not as a prize.
But as something that had already begun to rewrite the world around it.
If this failed—
It would not simply remain.
It would spread.
Corrupt.
Decide.
And the next person to hold it…
Might not hesitate.
All hope depends on what Amamiheuwa told him .
With the knife, he sliced his palm.
Blood spilled onto the Oja.
The relic reacted.
A crack formed.
Udonkanka's fear became visible.
"Your blood. Hurry," Ojadili urged, tossing him the knife.
The knife struck Udonkanka's hand and fell.
He moved sluggishly toward it.
The crack widened.
A deafening vibration filled the air.
Ojadili felt it immediately.
They had not weakened the Oja.
They had alerted it.
The crack did not sound like breaking.
It sounded like… permission.
As if something inside the Oja had been waiting—
Not to resist destruction—
But to respond to it.
The sky darkened — tinged purple.
Then—
A tiny hole opened in the earth.
From it burst a twisting column of violet energy, spiraling like a newborn tornado.
The air did not ripple.
It collapsed.
Space itself seemed to bend away from the eruption, as though reality refused to remain intact in its presence.
This was not power meant for the world of men.
This was something that belonged—
Elsewhere.
It surged toward Udonkanka.
Ojadili exploded upward in thunder, lightning pulling him into the air. He snatched Udonkanka mid-motion and hurled him clear.
The beam struck a massive tree.
It shredded instantly — not splintering, not breaking — but unmaking.
Another surge erupted.
This second surge did not rise blindly.
It curved.
Adjusted.
Tracked.
Ojadili felt it—
It was not attacking the ground.
It was choosing a target.
Him.
Ojadili struck it with thunder.
The collision detonated a shockwave that slammed both men to the ground.
He understood instantly.
Do not attack the surge.
Attack the source.
Lightning roared from the sky.
The hole exploded shut.
Silence.
They breathed.
Relief flickered across Ojadili's face.
He was using the power of Amadioha for good.
"Let's finish this," he said, reaching for the knife.
The fractures multiplied.
Not randomly.
Deliberately.
Like something below had decided—
One opening was not enough.
And the earth did not stop breaking.
The Oja pulsed once.
Then again.
Not violently.
Decisively.
Ojadili felt it clearly now—
This was not a reaction to destruction.
It was a response to judgment.
And it had made one.
It was not going to be destroyed quietly.
---
"Place your blood!" Ojadili shouted. "I will stop the surges!"
Lightning pulled him skyward again as he hurled thunderbolts into the rupturing earth.
Udonkanka froze.
What if the thunder struck him instead?
His fingers hovered above the blade.
Not from fear of pain—
But from something worse.
Doubt.
For the first time since they began—
He wasn't sure who is still in control and the possibility of how it ends becomes blurry.
Yet , he left it to fate intertwined.
The sky answered with explosions of sound.
Thunder rolled beyond the living world.
Beyond the seen realm.
Beyond the hearing of men.
And still the ground kept breaking.
Ojadili felt it clearly now.
This was no longer a ritual.
No longer an attempt.
They had crossed something unseen—
And whatever lay beneath the earth…
Had finally noticed them.
The fractures multiplied.
Not randomly.
Deliberately.
Like something below had decided—
The earth did not just stop breaking.
It was no longer reacting—
It was opening.