Kelvin and his dad sat close to a group of young men in a dimly lit room, the air thick with tension. The only light came from a flickering bulb overhead, casting eerie shadows on the peeling wallpaper. Kelvin's dad owed the boss a fortune, and both of them had been personally assigned the deadliest part of the mission. The team leader was there to remind them of their task. His dad tapped him on the shoulder, the weight of the situation clear in his weary eyes.
"Sorry for getting you into this, son," he said, his voice heavy with regret.
Kelvin knew his father meant every word, but he felt compelled to relieve him of some of the guilt.
"Don't say that, father," Kelvin replied, his voice steady but soft. "Who did you do it for? Us. I have as much of a hand in this as you. Besides, nothing in this world comes free of charge."
His father shrugged, a faint smile of resignation playing on his lips. "Maybe, but I don't think you would understand. Thanks, son."
Kelvin nodded, and they both turned their focus to the meeting ahead.
Their mission was a museum heist. They were tasked with stealing several art exhibits from the museum. While the other team members were in charge of creating a distraction, Kelvin and his dad were assigned the task of actually moving the art. One might think it was a simple job, taking advantage of the opening created by their allies. But it felt like swallowing food with a lump in their throats—especially with Iron Hero in the picture.The masked vigilante had been causing trouble for the underground for nearly two years. Kelvin and his dad knew what they were up against but had to carry out their task quietly to avoid the wrath of their debtor, their boss. As they sat there, they cursed both their boss and Iron Hero for making their lives so difficult.
The museum was bustling with activity. Families moved from exhibit to exhibit, their conversations a blend of awe and curiosity. Groups of students huddled around various displays, scribbling notes and taking pictures. At the center of the museum stood a massive statue of a robotic figure in a heroic pose. At its feet stood a family of four. The older child, probably four or five years old, gasped.
"Cool!"
The mother leaned against the father, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "What do you think?"
"Well, I don't know," he replied, scratching his head. "I still don't understand what a statue of a 'hero' with at most two years of experience is doing in the same place as much more important works of art and elements of our history. What's his name again? Iron something—"
"Honey, you can't say that. Look, you don't even know him or her, and you already hate the hero. They're probably using it to mark the first time—"
She was interrupted by a loud thump. People in the museum began looking around in alarm. Their youngest child tugged at his parents' attention.
"Mom, Dad, what is that?"
He asked, pointing to a rough, black line that seemed to be growing—a crack. They then noticed more cracks appearing in different locations. The building was about to collapse.The museum erupted into chaos as people scrambled to get to safety. Meanwhile, Kelvin and his dad sat in a nearby building, watching the pandemonium unfold as the museum began to collapse.
The whirring sounds of ambulances and fire department vehicles blared in the area, red and blue lights reflecting off the surrounding buildings. The collapse had sparked a fire, adding to the devastation. Emergency teams worked tirelessly to salvage property while helpful citizens assisted the medical personnel. Amidst the chaos, a figure emerged from the rubble, resembling the statue from earlier but more sleek and with added modifications—Iron Hero, likely an upgraded version of the suit. He carried a family of four: the husband and wife strapped to his shoulders, and the two young children cradled in his arms. Medical personnel hurried to relieve him of the injured people.Iron Hero walked to a corner, his suit emitting smooth, electronic whirs. He sat down, exhaustion evident in his posture. It was getting late, and he had been helping to save victims since morning. His rest was interrupted by the voice of Adeola, his AI assistant.
"You seem pretty tired."
Iron Hero sighed, confirming the AI's observation. "Yeah, tell me about it."
"Very sorry, but while you were freeing the people trapped in the rubble, I did some scans and noticed light explosives that likely triggered the collapse."
"So, this wasn't a natural disaster?"
"Suggestively, boss."
Iron Hero got up, his mind racing.
"What would someone want to create a distraction for at a museum? Any ideas?"
"There could be only two plausible conclusions, sire," Adeola continued as Iron Hero walked towards the security personnel. "One, an assassination attempt, and the other, theft."
"We didn't get any information about any dignitaries visiting the museum, not even incognito,"Iron Hero said, scrolling through an Augmented Reality (AR) screen to confirm.
"So, I suggest it's the latter... Wait."
Iron Hero began looking around, searching for something. He quickly headed to the nearby security personnel.
"Excuse me, where are the salvaged exhibits from the museum?"
"They're over there," the officer replied, gesturing to a van. Kelvin and his dad were seen locking the van, preparing to leave the site.
"They said they were from the museum, sent to retrieve the items," the officer continued.
"Oh, come on," Iron Hero muttered. He immediately boosted himself into the air and landed in front of the vehicle.
"Stop!"
Kelvin's dad cursed silently upon seeing Iron Hero and hit the gas, accelerating to full speed. Iron Hero levitated just in time to avoid being hit. He aimed to chase them while flying, but his boosters powered down, causing him to drop to the ground in surprise.
"What..."
He checked his wrist and noticed that his suit had reverted to backup power supply.
"Oh, come on."
He began using his boosters to generate enhanced jumps, chasing the van with powerful leaps.
Blessing stood in front of the restroom sink, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glare on the worn-out tiles. She gazed into the mirror, her reflection revealing a mix of determination and anxiety. Turning on the tap, she splashed her face with cold water, hoping to wash away the nerves. She turned off the tap, gripping the edges of the sink as she whispered to herself.
"You've got this."
She exited the restroom and walked through the hallway, the distant sounds of chatter and footsteps echoing off the walls lined with faded posters and lockers. The smell of sweat and disinfectant lingered in the air. Stopping in front of a door, she took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest, and opened it. Inside, her teammates were warming up and stretching on the polished wooden floor, their faces a mix of focus and anticipation. Mrs. Samuel, their coach, noticed her entrance and smiled warmly.
"Finally, you've arrived. We were just about to get started."
Blessing closed the door behind her, the sound of it clicking shut amplifying her resolve. She took off her hoodie, revealing a singlet like the others were wearing. The cool air of the room prickled her skin. Before Mrs. Samuel could begin, Blessing stepped forward, her voice steady but filled with a quiet determination.
"Ma'am, I think I'm ready to pull off the Sammy-special."
A collective gasp filled the room as everyone turned to stare at her in shock, then shifted their gaze to Mrs. Samuel. Their coach was not just an instructor but a legend, a prodigy who had won multiple awards and earned her first world-class title at thirteen. Blessing's bold declaration seemed almost sacrilegious. Yet, Mrs. Samuel's face showed no offense, only a raised eyebrow and a spark of curiosity.
"Okay, Blessing, the floor is yours. Wow me."
Blessing nodded, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on her. She took a short run and dove forward, her body moving with practiced precision. She spun clockwise mid-air, landing on her hands with her legs perfectly horizontal. The room held its breath. She sprang up again, spinning counterclockwise, and landed on her hands once more. Her teammates watched in awe, their expressions a mix of disbelief and admiration as she nailed each milestone of the move.She sprung up for the final flip, her heart racing with the thrill of near-success. But this time, she didn't gain enough height and landed abruptly, the flow breaking. Disappointment rippled through the room as her teammates shook their heads and resumed their stretches. Mrs. Samuel, however, clapped and walked over to help her up.
"Good effort, Blessing," she said, her tone encouraging despite the misstep.
Blessing continued the practice with a frown, her mind replaying the failed attempt. After practice, she sat on a bench in the hallway, the cold metal pressing against her skin, watching as her teammates left. A few waved goodbye, but she only managed a nod, her thoughts elsewhere. Mrs. Samuel approached and sat beside her, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words. Blessing turned away, her face flushed with frustration and embarrassment.
"You did good," Mrs. Samuel said gently.
"But I could've—"
"Take your credit, Blessing. You did good. Of all the students I've trained, you're one of the best. Don't beat yourself up. Stand tall."
Mrs. Samuel's voice was firm yet kind, her words carrying the weight of experience. She stood up and began to walk away.
"You're not much older than I am, but you're retired. Why?" Blessing blurted out, her curiosity overriding her pride.Mrs. Samuel stopped and turned to look at her, a shadow crossing her face.
"That's a long story, girl, one that can't be told now."
With that, Mrs. Samuel walked away, leaving Blessing sitting on the bench, her mind swirling with thoughts, her eyes staring into the distance.
After a short while, Blessing got into her vehicle and headed home. The traffic was terrible, so she expected to arrive late. At first, the cars inched forward, but soon they came to a complete halt. Drivers exited their vehicles, expressing their frustration. The cacophony of shouting and quarrels grew so loud that she turned on her radio to drown it out.
"The city museum collapsed this morning and..."
"Hmmm." Blessing switched off the radio and turned on some music, increasing the volume until it muffled the angry voices outside.
"Much better." She hummed along to the songs playing, trying to soothe her frazzled nerves. Eventually, the traffic cleared, and she drove on open roads. Deciding to eat out instead of going straight home, she pulled into a diner parking lot, eager for a brief respite.As she stopped her car and prepared to step out, a van zoomed past her, the screech of its tires deafening. A gunshot rang out from the front passenger seat of the van. Blessing froze, her heart pounding in her chest. A heavy weight landed on her car roof with a loud thud, jolting her back to reality.
"Sorry, whoever owns this car," came a voice from above.Before she could process what was happening, her car began moving on its own, chasing the van. She pounded on the roof, desperate to get the intruder's attention. Iron Hero's masked face peered down at her through the windshield.
"Oops, sorry. Didn't know someone was in here."
"Uh huh... So would you get the hell off my car?" Blessing snapped, her fear morphing into anger.
"Very sorry, ma'am, but I can't," Iron Hero replied, his focus remaining on the van.
"What do you mean you can't?"
"Should I stop the car and let a bunch of criminals carrying millions of naira worth of art get away?" Iron Hero shot back.
Blessing, still furious, demanded, "Well, at least let me get out."
Adeola, Iron Hero's AI assistant, chimed in, "While the car has an Adrotech core, its security system is different, preventing me from accessing the doors, especially at this speed."
Iron Hero grimaced. "What about the criminals' car?"
"Sorry, boss, their car has no Adrotech parts."
"Ha—" Iron Hero's response was cut off by Blessing thumping the roof again.
"Very sorry, ma'am. While your car has an Adrotech core, its security system is my rival's design," he yelled back, frustration evident in his voice. "Do you think I'd do this if I had another choice?"
Blessing's eyes widened. "Wait, what do you mean rivals?"
Iron Hero fell silent, focusing on dodging bullets and tailing the van. The road ahead was clear, allowing for high-speed pursuit. The van swerved onto a bridge still under construction, and Blessing's car followed.Adeola spoke up again,
"We've just entered a bridge still under construction, boss. Should we continue?"
Iron Hero's jaw tightened. "We don't have a choice. Let's hope these criminals aren't foolish enough to commit suicide to avoid being caught."
Blessing's face paled. "What?!"
The unfinished bridge loomed ahead, gaps and scaffolding casting ominous shadows under the setting sun. Her heart raced as her car sped onto the precarious structure, the stakes higher than ever.
Kelvin's dad left his window and settled into his seat, methodically adjusting his rifle with a practiced hand. The weight of the impending confrontation was clear in his movements. He glanced at his son and gently tapped him on the shoulder.
"You know as well as I do that we can't afford to get caught, right?"
"Yes, Dad," Kelvin replied, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "I know what I have to do."
His father's face softened, and a tear traced a line down his cheek. He buried his face in his hand, his voice tinged with regret and awe.
"I don't deserve to have you as a son, Kelvin. Where do you find this courage?"
Kelvin winced, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "
I'm not going to lie and say I'm not scared, but what's the point? If we're going down, we might as well go down in a blaze of glory. What do you say?"
A smile tugged at his father's lips as he readied his rifle.
"Let's invite a few friends to the darkness."
The van slowed, allowing Iron Hero to close in. As they pulled alongside Blessing's vehicle, Kelvin's dad took aim and fired directly at her window, a calculated move to induce panic. Blessing flinched, scrambling to engage the manual brakes in a frantic bid to regain control. But before she could react fully, Kelvin's dad shot out her tires, sending her car into a violent flip.
"NO!"
Iron Hero shouted, his voice breaking through the chaos. As the vehicles careened through the night, he directed his AI assistant.
"Adeola, channel all our power to the boosters. We need everything we've got."
"Yes, boss."
Iron Hero engaged the boost typically used for enhanced jumps, but this time in reverse. He intended to slam into the bonnet of Blessing's car with enough force to stop it. However, his plan backfired. The high-speed impact brought the car to a halt, but the momentum caused it to flip over Iron Hero. The car collided with the ground and a deafening explosion erupted, sending shockwaves through the night.The blast's force hurled Blessing's vehicle into the air again, exacerbating the damage from the initial crash.Iron Hero watched in horror as the flames illuminated the wreckage. "Oh God," he muttered, his voice filled with disbelief. His suit was drained of power, leaving him grappling with the weight of what had just transpired. His focus was solely on the woman he had inadvertently dragged to her possible death.He staggered to Blessing's mangled vehicle, his heart pounding with urgency. Despite the suit's depleted power, he pried open the car door and carefully lifted her out. Her body was limp, but he felt a faint pulse—a glimmer of hope amidst the destruction.
"What have I done?" he murmured, panic and guilt mingling in his voice.
Determined to salvage what he could, he hoisted her into his arms and began running. With every step, he focused on the urgent need to save who he could, aware that the criminals were beyond rescue.Iron Hero raced through the debris-strewn streets, carrying Blessing with a fierce resolve. Despite his suit's limitations, he pushed forward, intent on ensuring that at least one life might still be spared from the night's chaos.