Malik exhales..
Done.
Malik
"…yeah, I'm bored."
He turns.
Walks out.
The doors open—
—and he almost bumps into someone.
Water shifts in a glass.
Girl
"Hey—watch it."
Malik pauses.
Looks at her.
Malik
"…you're standing in front of a war room."
Girl
"And you're walking like you own it."
Girl
"So you're the one they dragged in."
Malik
hmmm (low)
She turns.
Starts walking.
Girl
"Come on."
Malik follows.
No questions.
They walk through the halls.
Less tension.
More life.
Girl
"They do that every time, you know."
Malik glances at her.
Girl
"The whole serious faces, world-ending speech… it's always like that."
Malik
"…is that so"
She huffs lightly.
Girl
"It is."
They step out onto a balcony.
The city stretches out below.
Alive.
Far off—
that dark line again.
She leans on the railing.
Sips her water.
Girl
"That's the problem."
Malik's gaze follows hers.
Girl
"Comes back every time."
A pause.
Girl
"And every time… they bring someone."
Malik stays quiet.
Listening.
Girl
"They fight it."
Another pause.
Girl
"Most don't last long."
Malik's eyes shift slightly.
That one lands.
Malik
"…and the ones who do?"
She shrugs lightly.
Girl
"They get a choice."
Malik
"and that's?"
Girl
"Stay… or go back."
A small pause.
Girl
"Not everyone makes it that far."
Silence.
Soft.
Wind passes.
Malik looks out again.
Toward that distant line.
Malik
"…so that's where it comes from."
She doesn't answer.
Instead—
she studies him.
Girl
"You're taking this… strangely well."
Malik exhales.
Light.
Malik
"Panicking won't fix it."
She almost smiles.
Girl
"…fair."
A pause.
Malik
"…you got a name?"
Girl
"Aurelia."
Malik
"Malik."
A small glance.
Aurelia
"I know."
Silence again.
Easy.
Then—
Malik's eyes narrow slightly.
Still staring at the horizon.
Malik
"Good."
Aurelia turns.
Aurelia
"Good?"
THE NEXT MORNING
Morning came quietly.
Too quietly.
Malik opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.
For a moment, he did not move.
Malik
"…so this is still real."
He sat up slowly, rubbing his face.
No noise.
No traffic.
No shouting from outside.
Malik exhaled..
Malik
"Alright then."
He got out of bed and stretched.
Neck first.
Then shoulders.
He paused.
Something felt… different.
Not wrong.
Just unfamiliar.
Malik frowned slightly and rolled his arms again.
Malik
"…what is this?"
He dropped to the floor.
Push-ups.
Ten.
Easy.
Fifteen.
Still easy.
He slowed down.
Eyes narrowing.
Twenty.
No strain.
He stopped.
Looked at his hands.
Malik
"…that is new."
He tried again.
Faster this time..
Thirty.
Forty.
He sat back.
Not even breathing hard.
Malik stared at the ground for a second.
Malik
"…I see."
A small pause.
Then a faint smile.
Malik
"So this is how it works."
He stood up, stretching again.
Malik
"This is not normal."
A knock came at the door.
Soft.
Malik turned.
Voice (outside)
"My lord…?"
He blinked.
Malik
"....Ehaa
A pause.
Voice
"You, sir."
Malik rubbed his face slowly.
Malik
"…of course."
He walked toward the door.
Malik
"Come in."
The door opened.
Maids entered first.
Then servants behind them—
pushing food carts.
Covered dishes.
Warm steam rising.
They arranged everything quickly.
Then bowed.
Maids
"Good morning, my lord."
Malik sat up slowly.
Looked at all of them in surprised.
Malik
"…why are you people this many ?"
Silence.
He waved his hand.
Malik
"Leave it there."
They obeyed.
Malik pointed.
Malik
"You—stay. And you."
The two stepped forward.
Malik
"names?"
First maid
"Maria, my lord."
Second maid
"Larilina, my lord."
Malik nodded
Malik
"Good. The rest u can go."
They left.
The room settled.
Malik stood.
Walked to the table
Then paused
Malik
"…come and eat."
Maria and Larilina froze
Maria
"My lord… we cannot.
Malik looked at them.
Then shrugged.
Malik
"Your choice."
He sat.
Opened a dish.
Took a bite.
Pause.
Then another from a different dish.
Then he stopped.
Malik
"…this tastes like something my younger brother would cook."
Silence.
Not angry.
Just… disappointed.
He dropped the spoon.
A pause
Malik
"Who cooked it?"
Maria
"The palace chef, my lord."
Malik stood immediately.
Malik
"Good. Take me there."
Kitchen
Movement slowed as he entered.
Malik looked around.
Malik
"who's the boss?"
A man stepped forward.
Head Chef
"my lord."
Malik studied him briefly.
Malik
"How did you cook this?"
The man straightened.
Head Chef
"With seasoning, spices, broth—"
Malik raised a hand
Malik pointed.
Malik
"This one?"
Head Chef
"For spice."
Malik pointed again.
Malik
"And this?"
Head Chef
"For aroma."
Again
Malik
"That one?"
Head Chef
"For flavor balance."
Malik nodded slowly.
Then said
Malik
"…so basically—salt, maggi, pepper… and spicity."
A small pause.
Some cooks exchanged looks.
Malik turned away.
Walking.
Then—
He saw it.
Rice.
He stopped.
Looked at it.
Then nodded slightly.
Malik
"…alright."
He turned back.
roles up his slive
Malik
"Bring me a bowl."
They did.
He measured rice into it.
Wash it.
Again.
Three more times
Then He put it aside
The fire was lit.
Water placed.
It began to heat.
Malik stood beside it.
Calm.
Then pointed again.
Malik
"This one—what does it do?"
Cook
"Spice, my lord.
Malik added a bit.
Malik
"That one?"
Cook
"For aroma."
He added.
Malik
"And this?"
Cook
"For taste depth."
He added again.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Layer by layer.
Then—
Head Chef stepped forward.
Head Chef
"My lord… you are not meant to be in the kitchen—"
Malik looked at him.
Malik
"Do you want to eat?"
The man paused.
Malik continued—
Malik
"Then come."
Malik
"Bring more rice."
Silence.
Then movement.
The Head Chef stepped in.
Not fully comfortable.
But present.
Malik handed him the bowl.
Malik
"Measure it--- the one all of u are going to eat."
A pause
Then--
He did.
Malik
"Wash it properly."
Others began to join.
One by one.
Not ordered.
Just… drawn in.
Malik directed.
Malik
"Not too much."
Malik
"Wait—let it boil first."
Malik
"Now add it."
The rice went in.
The pot simmered.
Time passed.
The smell—
Started building.
Different.
Heavier.
Full.
Then—
Malik opened the pot slightly.
Checked.
Nodded.
Later—
It was done.
He served.
First himself.
Then them.
They tasted.
Paused.
Then—
Reactions.
Real ones.
Head Chef looked at him.
Head Chef
"…my lord… what is this called?"
Malik took another bite.
Then said—
Malik
"Jollof rice."
A small pause.
Malik
"…from where I come from."
Silence.
But this time—
It stayed differently.
Not forced.
Not stiff.
Just… respect.
Malik stood.
Malik
"Alright."
He wiped his hand.
Malik
"Where is the training ground?"
Maria stepped forward.
Maria
"I will guide you, my lord."
Malik nodded.
And walked out.
The kitchen watched him leave.
This time—
No one saw him the same way again.
--