The walk back to Ajeji Village dragged on, way longer than Adegboyega remembered. No one said a word. The forest pressed in, even heavier than before. Every step made him feel like he carried something new on his back. Not fear, exactly. Not that old ache. Something else. Something he didn't have a name for.
He glanced down at his hands, half expecting to see some mark or scar. They looked normal. But the memory of that clearing was real, the force that had pushed the shadow away had come from him.
"You're quiet," Baba Ikuomola said, finally breaking the silence.
Ade exhaled. "I'm thinking."
"That's good," Baba said. "Just don't let your thoughts trap you."
Ade looked over. "Back there… What did I do?"
Baba kept walking, staff tapping softly in the dirt. He took a while before speaking. "You touched something deeper than yourself."
Ade frowned. "That doesn't explain much."
Baba cracked a faint smile. "Not the sort of thing I can explain fast."
They stepped out of the trees onto the path to the village. The change hit instantly, air lighter, the weight lifting a bit, but not gone. Not really.
Ade felt it, somewhere under everything. That pulse.
"It's still there," he said, quiet.
"It won't disappear so quickly," Baba replied.
Ade stopped, staring out over the fields.
"I felt it inside me," he said. "When it got close, something in me reacted. I just moved, I didn't choose."
Baba turned. "That's because it recognized you."
Ade's jaw tightened. "Recognized me as what?"
Baba watched him, eyes steady. "As something it didn't expect."
When they got back, all pretending was over. Clusters of people huddled together, their voices low. Some faces looked relieved seeing Ade and Baba return. Others darted away, more scared than before.
The man who'd collapsed stayed where he was, stretched out in his home, family members hovering nearby.
Ade went in. The room was dim, a tiny lamp flickering. The man breathed, slow and shallow. His eyes stayed closed.
"He hasn't woken up," a woman murmured.
Ade stepped closer. "Did he say anything else?"
She nodded, barely. "Just one thing."
He leaned in, listening.
She whispered, "He said… it is calling."
Ade straightened up. That phrase again. It is calling.
Outside, Baba waited for him.
"This isn't random," Ade blurted. "It's choosing people."
"Yeah," Baba said.
"Why?"
"To get stronger," Baba said. "To spread itself."
"Then why didn't it take me?"
Baba's eyes went dark. "Because you're different."
Ade crossed his arms. "You keep saying that. You never say why."
Baba let out a long breath. "Because I don't know for sure. Not yet."
Later, Baba called Ade behind his house. The sun had just dipped behind the trees.
"If you're going to face what's coming, you need control," Baba said.
"I'm ready," Ade told him, maybe too quickly.
Baba watched him, measuring. "Thinking you're ready and being ready aren't the same."
Ade didn't argue.
"Sit down," Baba said.
Ade dropped to the ground.
"Close your eyes. Feel the earth, not just under you. Feel it."
Ade tried. At first all he noticed was the dirt and grass. Then slowly, the old pulse returned. Faint but unmistakable.
"I feel it," Ade breathed.
"Don't resist it," Baba said quietly. "But don't surrender to it either."
Holding onto the feeling was hard. When he paid it too much attention, it surged up, trying to sweep him away. Ignore it, and it pushed back stronger.
"Find the place in-between," Baba coached.
Ade filled his lungs, tried to let the feeling settle. The pulse hummed there, but he wasn't drowning in it now.
When he opened his eyes, the world felt… sharper. Like he'd peeled back some kind of veil.
"I still feel it," he said.
Baba nodded. "That means you're awake to it now. That's the first step."
Ade got up, looked at his hands again.
"How do I use it?"
Baba's gaze hardened. "By facing it again."
Ade's head shot up. "You want me to go back there?"
"Yes."
"Alone?"
"Not yet." Baba's voice was firm, but not unkind. "But soon."
Ade swallowed. "That thing nearly overpowered me. What if it does next time?"
Baba stepped closer. "Then get stronger. You have to, Ade."
When night fell, the unease came with it, sliding through the village like fog.
Ade laid out on his mat, eyes open to the ceiling, mind spinning back through everything. The shadow. That chilling voice. The power he'd called up.
Then the pulse came stronger this time.
He sat up fast.
"No…" He barely heard himself speak.
This time, it wasn't distant. Whatever it was, it was closer. Too close.
He pushed himself outside. The village was quiet, everyone huddled indoors, but nothing felt restful.
And then came the whisper.
Soft, but clear.
"Ade…"
He tensed, fighting the urge to freeze. Still that same voice, but louder, more certain.
He turned toward the woods.
"I'm not coming," he said out loud, voice low.
The whisper soaked through the air. "You already have…"
Ade clenched his fists, heart pounding.
"No."
A shiver ran through the ground beneath him.
He stared into the dark, breathing slow. The truth came to him, fierce and cold.
The shadow wasn't waiting anymore.
It was reaching.
And soon, it wouldn't have to call him at all.