Chapter 200: A Nation Reborn

(Skylar's POV)

The next morning, I stepped off the private military jet onto Nigerian soil once again—but this time, I wasn't just an envoy. I was the new ruler.

A convoy of armored vehicles waited at the tarmac. U.S. and Blackwood Private Military soldiers lined the runway, their rifles held firm, their expressions unreadable. The entire nation was under strict military control.

Chris had sent his message loud and clear—Nigeria was no longer independent. It belonged to him.

And I was the face of that change.

—

Aso Rock Presidential Villa – The Official Ceremony

The grand hall of Aso Rock was filled with military generals, former government officials, and foreign ambassadors. Some were here to pledge loyalty, others simply to witness history.

Cameras were rolling. The world was watching.

I stepped onto the stage, the official decree in my hands. Behind me, the Nigerian flag had been removed.

In its place hung a massive banner— The Blackwood Company logo.

A black shield, sleek and bold, with a silver crown embedded at the center.

Not the American eagle. Not the stars and stripes.

Chris had not just conquered Nigeria—he had claimed it for himself.

I took a steady breath, unfolding the decree. This was the moment everything changed.

"As of today, the Federal Republic of Nigeria ceases to exist."

Murmurs spread through the room. Some gasped, others remained deathly silent.

I pressed on.

"From this moment forward, Nigeria will be governed as a Protectorate under the authority of the Blackwood Corporation."

I could feel the tension thickening, but no one dared to interrupt.

"All former national symbols—flag, logo, and governmental emblems—are hereby abolished. In their place, the insignia of Blackwood will stand as the mark of governance, power, and progress."

I turned to the military band, giving a single nod.

The drums rolled. The trumpets rose.

And then—the first notes of the new anthem filled the hall.

It wasn't the old "Arise, O Compatriots."

It was something new. Something composed under Chris's orders.

A march of dominance. Of power.

A song that declared, without apology, that Nigeria was no longer free.

As the final note echoed through the hall, I looked over at the generals, the politicians, the people who once ruled this country.

Some lowered their heads in defeat.

Others clenched their fists in rage.

But no one spoke.

Because Chris had already given the order.

Defy this new rule, and you will not live to see tomorrow.