Lagos will Burn Before She Bows
## **CHAPTER SIX**##
The city was trembling.
Not visibly — not yet. But beneath the glittering chaos of Lagos Island, where music spilled from danfo radios and the lagoon yawned in rhythm with the tide, something primal had awakened.
Something ancient.
From the roof of the old Cocoa House, Anike stood with her hand on the hilt of the **Blade of Origins**, her other hand entwined with Obiora's. The skyline blinked with light and possibility, but it no longer felt like the same city.
It had become a battleground waiting to breathe fire.
"I can feel him," she said, eyes fixed on the Third Mainland Bridge. "He's already here."
"Orunzo never waits," Obiora murmured. "He bends time to kneel before him."
Anike took a breath, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that had once commanded armies. "He wants Lagos. Not just for power. But for memory."
Obiora frowned. "Memory?"
"This city," she said, turning to him, "isn't just a place. It's a seal. Beneath it lies the Tomb of Remembrance — the resting place of every soul we've ever lived. If Orunzo opens it, he won't just reclaim power… he'll rewrite all of history."
"And erase us."
She nodded. "And every version of us that's ever dared to choose love."
---
They descended into the bustle of **Balogun Market**, where the hum of commerce masked the first signs of shift.
Women hawked lace and ankara with sharp tongues and faster hands. Boys wove through traffic selling gala and La Casera. Musicians pounded shekeres and talking drums near every junction.
But beneath it all… the ground pulsed.
A mother froze, her toddler pointing upward toward a crack in the sky no one else saw. A stray dog barked three times, then whimpered and disappeared into shadow.
Anike saw it all.
She placed her palm against the side of a rusted danfo bus. Symbols glowed faintly. Nsibidi markings — once sacred, now hidden beneath paint and iron.
"He's pulling energy from the bloodline," she said.
Obiora's brow furrowed. "The bloodline of what?"
"Of everyone who's ever loved here."
---
At the heart of Tafawa Balewa Square, the statues of lions began to shift.
Not move — shift.
Stone cracked. Eyes blinked.
And one by one, the lion statues roared — not with sound, but with essence. Magic unfurled through the air like smoke.
A woman with silver braids walked barefoot into the square.
She wore white and gold. Her eyes were all-white.
"Anike of the Stars," she said.
Anike bowed slightly. "Grand Matron."
Obiora blinked. "She's real?"
"She's the one who remembered when I forgot," Anike whispered.
The Grand Matron smiled. "Time folds for those who hold truth. Orunzo rises not because he is strong… but because the world forgot it had stronger guardians."
She handed Anike a small, star-shaped orb.
"The last key," the Matron said. "To the Tomb of Remembrance. You must reach it first."
"And if I don't?"
The woman's eyes turned skyward.
"Then Lagos will burn before she bows."
---
Night fell too quickly.
Clouds rolled in, heavy and ink-black, obscuring the moon.
The bridge was emptying — unnaturally so. Cars that once flooded it in noisy chaos were now still. No honks. No curses. Just silence.
Then the fog came.
It slithered down the bridge like a living thing — thick, dark, laced with whispers.
Orunzo's entrance was never loud.
It was always quiet — and then the world shattered.
---
Obiora gripped her hand as they crossed toward the **underbridge**, near Ebute Metta — where old fishermen swore the sea once parted for a goddess bride.
They descended into a forgotten passage — the original colonial tunnels beneath Lagos, carved by both enslavers and rebels, sealed decades ago by a British priest who claimed they were cursed.
They weren't cursed.
They were **guarded.**
The moment Anike stepped into the shadows, the air thickened.
Torches lit themselves.
And the walls began to sing.
Not with voice — but memory.
---
"You never told me," Obiora said, as the tune wrapped around them. "That I died before. That you watched it happen."
She slowed. "I didn't want it to define us."
"But it does."
"I know."
He turned to face her.
"I'm not angry. I just… I need to understand. Why do we keep finding each other in every life if it always ends in loss?"
She stepped closer, reaching for his face.
"Because the universe is relentless in reminding us that love is worth it. Even if it hurts. Even if it breaks us. It's the only thing that survives the fall of empires."
Obiora leaned in.
And in the flicker of torchlight, they kissed — not out of desperation, but declaration.
Their magic pulsed together, spiraling upward, weaving into the very walls.
The tunnel opened.
---
At the end of the tunnel lay **The Obsidian Gate**.
Carved from volcanic stone, sealed with seven locks.
Each lock bore a symbol: Love. Sacrifice. Truth. Power. Memory. Legacy. Death.
Anike stepped forward and whispered the names of every version of herself that had ever loved Obiora.
The locks clicked, one by one.
Until only one remained.
**Death.**
She looked at him.
"You don't have to—" he began.
But she was already bleeding — a single drop from her thumb onto the final lock.
The gate opened.
And beyond it lay a staircase — descending into light so ancient it hummed like lullabies from another universe.
---
They entered the **Tomb of Remembrance**.
It was vast. Celestial. Floating islands of stone and memory, each one pulsing with the stories of a soul that had loved and lived.
And there — in the center — was the **Core Memory Flame**.
If Orunzo touched it, he could rewrite their entire history. Make himself the eternal ruler. Remove love from every story.
"Too late," a voice said behind them.
Orunzo emerged from shadow — tall, in obsidian armor, eyes glowing red-gold. Around him floated the Spectres of the Forgotten — souls he had stolen from the afterlife, now bound to his will.
"Don't," Anike said, stepping between him and the flame.
Orunzo smiled. "Still stubborn. Still beautiful. Still mine."
"No," she said. "Never."
---
A battle erupted.
Obiora clashed with Spectres, his blade slicing through memories and shadow alike.
Anike and Orunzo danced the oldest war — love and betrayal, hope and greed. They fought not just with weapons, but with will.
"You can't win," Orunzo sneered. "You're too human now. Too soft."
Anike let her aura burst wide.
"I'm *soft* because I *remember*. I'm *strong* because I *love*."
She struck him — not with her blade, but with her **truth**.
And it shattered him.
The Spectres cried out and vanished. Orunzo staggered, kneeling.
"You… would've been a goddess."
"I chose to be more," she said. "I chose to be *home*."
---
She turned to Obiora.
Together, they sealed the Core Flame.
The past was safe.
Their future… unwritten.
But waiting.
---
As they ascended from the Tomb, dawn was breaking over Lagos.
Markets stirred. Traffic resumed. The sky shimmered — not with storm, but with memory.
The city had remembered her truth.
Anike smiled.
"We're not done," she said.
Obiora grinned. "Not even close."
And somewhere, high above, the stars whispered:
> *Let them come. This time, we are ready.*
---