10- THE GATHERING STORM
Chapter 10: The Gathering Storm
Kamal has learned his lesson. But something about his warning sticks with me.
"Your fortresses won't protect you forever."
He wasn't just talking about himself.
There's a bigger game at play, and I need to figure out who else is watching.
At the same time, I can't forget the real world. It's been weeks since I last saw my family, and if I don't make an appearance soon, my mom will start asking questions.
And the last thing I need is my mother investigating my whereabouts.
For now, I step back from the shadows and play the role of the dutiful son.
But deep inside, I know something is coming.
Something big.
---
Homecoming
I arrive at my mother's house just before noon, the scent of jollof rice and fried plantains thick in the air. The neighborhood hasn't changed—kids playing football in the street, vendors shouting over one another, and the usual old men arguing about politics under the mango tree.
It feels... normal.
A stark contrast to the life I've been building.
I knock twice before stepping inside.
"Look who finally remembered his mother!" My mom's voice rings out from the kitchen.
I chuckle, stepping forward to hug her. "I've been busy, Ma."
"Busy doing what? You don't call, you don't visit. Are you trying to become an oyinbo man?"
I shake my head, smiling. "I'm here now."
She eyes me suspiciously but lets it go. "You're too thin. Sit, eat."
I don't argue. I've faced armed men, fought gravity itself, and survived assassination attempts, but there's no escaping a Nigerian mother's orders.
As I eat, my younger brother Daniel walks in. He's taller than before, his body filling out from football training.
"You actually came home?" he teases, sitting beside me.
"Shut up," I reply, flicking a piece of meat at him. He dodges, laughing.
"Where have you been, anyway?" he asks, still grinning.
I pause, choosing my words carefully. "Handling business."
"Ah. Big man things," he says, mimicking a deep voice.
I laugh, shaking my head. Across the room, my younger sister, Simi, watches us with a knowing smirk. "You think you're mysterious, but you're not," she says.
"Really?"
"Really," she insists. "You disappear, come back all serious like you've seen things. So spill. Who is she?"
Daniel bursts out laughing. "Yes, tell us, who is this mystery babe keeping you away from home?"
I roll my eyes. "You guys watch too many Nollywood films."
Elizabeth and Jeremiah arrive later, my older siblings adding to the lively energy in the house. For a few hours, I let myself enjoy the moment. The laughter. The warmth.
But even here, in the comfort of home, something nags at me.
A presence.
An unseen force watching from the shadows.
The storm is coming.
And I need to be ready.
---
Later that evening, as I drive back to my Lagos fortress, the news blares from the radio.
"Scientists report increasing anomalies across the globe—unexplained weather patterns, animals behaving erratically, and a series of earthquakes in regions that rarely experience seismic activity..."
I turn the volume down.
Coincidences don't exist.
Ava chimes in.
> "Data analysis suggests a pattern. The anomalies are increasing."
I grip the steering wheel tighter. "Meaning?"
> "Meaning, whatever is happening... it's accelerating."
I exhale slowly.
First, my sudden return to the past.
Now, reality itself seems to be unraveling.
I need more information.
And I know exactly who to ask.
---
I've spent the last few weeks building power, making money, and expanding my influence. But compared to them—the men who shape nations, control billions, and stand at the peak of the world—I'm still an outsider.
Reaching them isn't easy.
But I'm stubborn.
I try for days, calling, emailing, using every connection I have.
No responses.
No interest.
Just silence.
Until finally, after what feels like an eternity, I get a single reply.
An assistant's voice on the phone:
"Mr. Dangote has agreed to a five-minute meeting. Tomorrow. 8 PM. Don't be late."
I exhale.
Five minutes.
That's all I need.
---
Before my meeting with Dangote, another message arrives.
But this one isn't from Africa's richest man.
It's from someone I never expected to hear from.
A private email.
From: anonymous
Subject: We need to talk.
I stare at the screen.
I open the message.
Anonymous: I know what you've seen. The world is changing. Faster than it should. We're tracking the same thing. You need to be careful. Meet me in two days. Bring an open mind.
I read the email twice, then a third time.
I was still harbouring a little doubt about this before but now, things are getting serious
The apocalypse isn't just a theory.
It's real.
And it's already started.
---
That night, I arrive at Dangote's private office.
Security is tight—armed guards, biometric scanners, the works. But I expected that.
When I step inside, the man himself sits behind a massive mahogany desk. He doesn't waste time.
"You move fast," he says, studying me. "Too fast."
I say nothing.
He leans forward. "Tell me. What exactly do you want?"
Power. Wealth. Control.
But those words feel too small now.
I meet his gaze. "I want to win."
A slow smile spreads across his face. "Good."
He stands, walking to the window. "The world is shifting. You can feel it, can't you?"
I nod.
"The smartest men in the world are worried. Strange things are happening. And if there's one thing I've learned, it's that when the powerful start preparing... it means something bad is coming."
I exhale. "How bad?"
Dangote turns, his expression unreadable.
"Extinction-level bad."
The words settle between us like a heavy fog.
I clench my fists.
I came here to gather power, to control my own fate.
But now?
Now, I have to prepare for something far worse.
Because if the apocalypse is truly on the horizon...
Then money, influence, and even my abilities might not be enough to survive.
And I am not planning to die.
Not again.
---