The rain had not stopped. It came in waves now—thick sheets crashing against rooftops, flooding the streets, and soaking the tarmac at the Southern Port. The sound was louder than any voice, louder than the heartbeat of fear rumbling through Sanda's chest.
He walked slowly from Warehouse 17, the image of young Leo in that government file haunting his every step.
How many secrets had he missed?
How many things had been hidden from him while he hid himself from the world?
Red Vein was more than a buried project—it was a living ghost crawling through wires, satellites, minds. If it had already begun spreading, the companies run by his disciples were in danger. Not just financially. Mentally. Spiritually.
He needed to warn them.
He needed to regroup.
But he couldn't do it as Sanda. Nor could he emerge as Laga.
It was time for someone else.
---
2:13 a.m. – Dark Valley HQ, Lagos
Inside a quiet boardroom filled with screens, Leo sat alone.
His eyes were red. He had been studying a suspicious data spike in their internal systems for three days now. At first, he thought it was just a minor security breach—an attempted hack by a rival firm. But the pattern didn't make sense.
It was recursive.
It wasn't trying to break the system.
It was trying to merge with it.
Lines of code disguised as optimization scripts, permissions being requested at odd hours, AI systems running subroutines that no one programmed…
Then there were the dreams.
In the last week, Leo had woken up every night at exactly 3:15 a.m. with the same vision—an underground lab, white lights, screaming children, and a voice saying only three words:
"Red Vein Lives."
He hadn't told the others. Not Jade, not Ayoola, not even Aamir. They were busy in their own corners of the empire, and he didn't want to sound like he was hallucinating.
But now, it was too loud to ignore.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
He almost ignored it, but something told him to pick up.
He answered.
Silence.
Then a voice, low and calm: "It's not a virus. It's a fingerprint. And it's yours."
Leo froze. "Who is this?"
"You were Subject R.V.-017."
Leo's heart skipped.
He stood, knocking over his chair. "Who are you?"
"Check your grandfather's will. The red envelope."
Then the line went dead.
He stood motionless for a moment, drenched in confusion and fear.
Then he ran.
---
6:42 a.m. – Kano, Northern District
Ayoola stood in front of the mirror, tying the knot of his tie. The windows were fogged, the sky outside still dark with early morning clouds. His assistant was already downstairs, waiting to drive him to the airport for the tech summit.
But his mind wasn't on business.
He had received a USB flash drive two days ago from an unknown courier. Inside, it contained only one video.
Grainy footage of a laboratory.
Children in metal beds.
Surgeons moving like shadows.
Then…a scream. And a voice.
"Subject R.V.-013 — mental failure confirmed. Delete the memory."
The screen went black.
Then a final flash:
A face.
His face.
Ayoola had never seen it before.
But it was him.
Younger. Shaved head. Bruised arms. Lying unconscious on a cold steel table.
He hadn't slept since.
Today, he would attend the summit.
But after that…he was going to find out who he really was.
---
8:00 a.m. – Sudan
In a private underground facility owned by Jade's corporation, engineers were on edge.
Systems were failing one after another. Not crashing—transforming.
Drones refused to obey orders.
AI assistants began replying with different accents and phrasing.
A secure blockchain project Jade had invested $40 million in suddenly rewrote its base code overnight.
And the security cameras?
They played loops of children walking down white hallways. Faces blurred. Feet bare.
Jade was livid.
She kicked her office door open and demanded to see her lead cyber-analyst.
He stuttered: "Ma'am… we found a root protocol embedded in the architecture… signed off over nine years ago… by someone named… Laga."
Her eyes went cold.
---
10:11 a.m. – Abuja
In the heart of the city, inside a building owned by one of Aamir's shell companies, a quiet meeting was taking place.
Aamir sat at the end of a long table with two foreign agents in suits.
They were from Interpol.
Not officially.
One of them leaned forward. "Mr. Aamir. We believe your private military division is compromised."
Aamir's face didn't move. "That's impossible. I screen my officers myself."
The second agent slid a photo across the table.
Aamir looked down.
It was of his face.
Beside it—a label.
R.V.-005. Mental Architect. Weaponized Logic.
Aamir said nothing for a long time.
Then stood, quietly.
"I'll handle it," he said.
---
Same morning – An Unknown Location
Sanda knelt on the floor of a cave, the only light a flickering oil lamp.
He had shed his disguise. No hoodie. No sandals. Only plain black robes and a silver chain around his neck.
In front of him were seven glass tablets, each glowing faintly with blue light.
He spoke in a whisper:
"Leo. Jade. Ayoola. Aamir. Timo. Sarah. Felix."
He touched the center of the floor. A hologram bloomed.
Seven circles. All red.
Then one blinked.
Leo.
He had begun to awaken.
The time had come.
The Fifth Seal was cracking.
Red Vein had always been more than science. It was a code. A psychological mold implanted into children during their earliest memories, buried, then triggered at adulthood through trauma or specific events.
And now, they were all beginning to remember.
Sanda sighed.
"I trained them to lead. But I never prepared them for this."
He looked to the wall behind him, where a single sentence was carved:
"Only fire can cure what was born in the dark."
He stood.
It was time to call them back.
---
Later that day – Dubai
A high tower with mirrored glass windows rose into the sky, casting shadows over the city. Inside, in a top-floor penthouse, a woman with golden hair and blue eyes sat watching ten screens at once.
Her name was Naomi Voss—the original founder of Red Vein.
She smiled to herself as the alerts came in.
"Subject 017 has discovered the truth."
"Subject 005 destabilizing."
"Subject 013 showing symptoms."
"They are awakening," she said softly. "Just as I predicted."
Behind her, a man in a robotic exosuit approached.
"Do we initiate Phase II?"
Naomi stood.
"No," she said. "Let them remember everything. Let the pain shape them. It will make them more useful in the end."
She turned to a painting on the wall—a portrait of a young African man in black robes.
She stared at it for a moment.
Then whispered:
"Hello again, Laga."
---
Back in Lagos – That Night
Leo sat alone in his grandfather's study, the room filled with the scent of old wood and ink.
He had found the red envelope.
Inside, a letter.
One line.
"If you're reading this, you are the last piece of a forgotten puzzle. Trust the man in the shadows. He is your beginning."
Leo folded the paper.
Then his phone vibrated.
One message.
From a number named "Unknown General."
It read:
"Come to the coast. Bring no one. Chapter 26 awaits."
He stood.
He was ready.