The ninth day began with a fragile hope.
But hope, in Ebirien, had become something dangerous.
For a brief moment, the town felt different.
Lighter.
Not safe.
But… possible.
People spoke more carefully now.
Not out of fear alone
but with intention.
Small truths were shared.
Quiet confessions made.
Broken relationships… began to shift.
And with each honest word
nothing broke.
The ground remained still.
The air stayed calm.
The force… weakened.
Inside Tare, the presence had grown faint.
Not gone.
But fading.
They are learning, it whispered weakly.
Tare stood in the center of the town, watching.
Listening.
"Yes," he said quietly.
For the first time, he allowed himself to feel something close to relief.
Maybe this could end.
Maybe the town could survive.
But peace does not come easily to places built on buried pain.
Because not everyone wanted to change.
At the far end of Ebirien, away from the square, a small group gathered.
Hidden.
Quiet.
Not to confess.
Not to heal.
But to resist.
Among them stood Kola.
His expression was hard.
Unmoved.
"They're all pretending," he said.
A few nodded.
"You really believe this?" one boy asked. "Talking like that?"
Kola scoffed.
"It's weakness," he said.
"Admitting things… crying… apologizing…"
He shook his head.
"That's not strength."
"But things have stopped breaking," another said carefully.
Kola's eyes narrowed.
"For now."
Silence followed.
Then he stepped forward slightly.
"You think this is over?" he asked.
No one answered.
Because deep down…
they weren't sure.
Kola's voice dropped lower.
"People don't change," he said.
"They hide. They pretend. They say what sounds right."
His fists clenched.
"And him…" he added, referring to Tare,
"He's controlling all of this."
That idea settled quickly.
Because it was easier to believe
than accepting responsibility.
"So what do we do?" one of them asked.
Kola didn't hesitate.
"We end it."
Back in the town square, things seemed calm.
A man apologized to his brother.
A woman admitted her mistake.
Two friends spoke honestly after years of silence.
And each time
nothing broke.
Tare felt it clearly.
The force inside him shrinking.
Weakening.
Dying.
But then
something changed.
A sharp shift.
Like a sudden storm cutting through a clear sky.
Tare's body stiffened.
His eyes widened.
"No…" he whispered.
They choose anger, the voice said faintly.
Far away, near the edge of town
Kola stood with the others.
"This ends today," he said.
They walked together.
Not quietly.
Not carefully.
But with intention.
Back at the square, people began to notice.
The change in the air.
The tension returning.
Tare turned slowly.
And saw them coming.
Kola at the front.
Eyes locked.
"This isn't over," Kola said as he approached.
The crowd shifted uneasily.
Fear returned.
Tare stepped forward.
"It can be," he said.
Kola laughed.
"No," he replied.
"It can't."
The ground trembled slightly.
"You think talking fixes everything?" Kola continued.
"You think saying 'I'm sorry' makes things disappear?"
Tare shook his head.
"No," he said.
"But it stops this."
Kola stepped closer.
"You're lying," he said.
The anger in his voice was real.
Raw.
Unfiltered.
And this time
he didn't hold it back.
"I hate you," Kola said.
The words landed heavily.
The ground cracked beneath his feet.
The force surged.
Inside Tare, the presence flared violently.
YES.
Tare staggered slightly.
"No
Kola continued.
"You think you're better than us now?"
"You think you're the solution?"
Each word fueled it.
Each word strengthened it.
"You're the problem!" Kola shouted.
The air tightened.
The ground shook harder.
The crowd began to panic.
"It's starting again!"
Tare felt it fully now.
The force returning.
Stronger.
Angrier.
Because this anger…
was not hidden.
It was chosen.
This is what feeds me most, the voice roared.
Tare clenched his fists.
His body shook.
His mind flooded.
This was the test.
Not silence.
Not accidental anger.
But deliberate hate.
"What do I do…" Tare whispered.
No answer came.
Because now
it was entirely his choice.
Kola stepped even closer.
"Do something," he said.
"Or prove me right."
The ground cracked wider.
The force waited.
Everyone watched.
Tare's breathing slowed.
He looked at Kola.
Not with fear.
Not with anger.
But with something else.
Understanding.
"You're still angry," Tare said quietly.
Kola scoffed.
"Of course I am!"
Tare nodded.
"But not just at me."
Kola's expression faltered slightly.
Tare stepped closer.
"You're angry at everything," he said.
"At people."
"At yourself."
"Shut up!" Kola snapped.
But the ground trembled less.
Because something had shifted.
"You don't want this to end," Tare continued.
Silence.
"Because if it ends…" Tare said softly,
"you'll have to face what's left."
Kola froze.
For the first time…
he didn't speak.
The anger in the air paused.
Confused.
Because it had expected a fight.
But instead
it found truth.
Tare took one more step forward.
"I'm not your enemy," he said.
Kola's fists trembled.
"You're just the easiest place to put your anger."
Silence.
Heavy.
Then
something unexpected happened.
The crack beneath Kola's feet stopped growing.
The air loosened.
The force… hesitated.
Inside Tare, the voice weakened again.
This… disrupts me…
Tare nodded slightly.
Because now he understood something new.
It wasn't just truth that weakened it.
It was truth directed at anger itself.
Kola stepped back slightly.
Not defeated.
Not convinced.
But shaken.
The others behind him looked uncertain.
For the first time
their anger wasn't growing.
It was… breaking apart.
Kola turned away suddenly.
"Let's go," he muttered.
And just like that
they left.
The crowd remained still.
Watching.
Waiting.
Tare exhaled slowly.
The ground became completely still again.
The storm had passed.
For now.
Inside him, the presence was barely there.
You weaken me…
Tare closed his eyes briefly.
"Not me," he whispered.
"Truth."
But as he looked around the town
he knew something important.
This wasn't over.
Because some people…
would always choose anger.
And the moment they did
everything could begin again.