Chapter 22: Static Silence
For months, Philip tried to reach Frank.
At first, it was just to check in—casual calls, short messages.
Then it turned into concern.
Then it became desperation.
Frank's number had stopped going through. Every attempt to reach him was met with silence. The line didn't even ring anymore. It was like the number had been pulled out of existence.
No "message failed."
No "not available."
Just… static.
Philip tried every trick he knew. Spoofing numbers. Encrypted emails. Even had a hacker friend look into Frank's digital footprint.
Nothing.
No bank activity.
No posts.
No pings.
Frank had gone dark.
And that's when the dreams started getting worse.
Every night, Philip would wake up in a cold sweat—visions of Frank surrounded by faceless people in dark robes, symbols glowing on the walls of underground chambers. He saw glimpses of machines powered by screaming stones, of planets with dying skies. He didn't know what was real anymore.
And through it all… Frank was silent.
The weight gnawed at him.
He wanted to go to Abuja. Track him down. Confront Athena if he had to. But every time he thought about it, fear held him back—not fear of danger. Not of enemies.
But fear that Frank had moved on. That maybe Frank had chosen them.
And worse… that Frank didn't want to be found.
The last time they'd spoken, they'd made a pact—"Whatever happens, we stick together. No lies. No secrets."
But now?
Now, Philip wasn't sure if they were even on the same team anymore.
So he stayed in Lagos. Working. Training. Growing.
he called Frank's number again—out of habit, out of hope.
Still nothing.
Then he started calling people—everyone.
Frank's mom.
His younger sister.
His cousin in Port Harcourt.
Even the uncle he didn't really talk to.
Every single one of them said the same thing.
"We haven't seen him. He hasn't called."
They sounded worried too—but more confused than alarmed. Like they were still expecting him to stroll back through the door any day now. Like this wasn't the first time he'd vanished.
Philip didn't stop there. He reached out to old university friends, party friends, guys from their NYSC days, even ex-girlfriends he knew Frank barely tolerated.
The answers were always the same.
No one had heard from Frank in months.
One of the old friends, Ayo, even said:
"Guy, you sure he's not just ducking you? Maybe something happened between you two?"
Philip laughed it off on the call—but that line stuck with him long after the conversation ended.
He went back through their last messages. Read the chats again and again. Looked at the photos from the pyramid night. Saw the tension in Frank's face in the final few frames. The way Athena was always just a little too close.
Had Frank really chosen her over him?
Was that it?
No… it didn't feel like betrayal. It felt like recruitment. Like something bigger than either of them had pulled Frank into a storm—and Philip had been left outside, watching it swirl.
Philip tossed the phone aside and stood by the window of his penthouse, staring at the Lagos skyline. The city buzzed with life below, but he felt a million miles away from it.
His fire element flared lightly at his fingertips. Reflexive. Anxious.