Iron Hero soared through the sky, spinning like a screw as he flew.
"Seventeen years and I still can't get used to it... Can you guess why, Adeola?" he asked, his voice carried by the wind.
"No, Sire," Adeola responded in a smooth, unwavering tone.
Iron Hero deactivated his boosters, letting gravity take hold and allowing himself to drop through the sky. A feeling of release washed over him, and for a moment, he reveled in the sensation of freefall. As he flipped to face downward, he watched the ground rushing up to meet him. The streetlights below flickered on in sequence, illuminating the darkening city streets, while the windows of nearby skyscrapers began to glow one after another, the signs of evening settling in.He let himself fall closer to the ground, stirring a mix of wonder and fear among the pedestrians below. Some pointed, while others shielded their eyes, unsure of what to expect.
"To answer my question from earlier... I'd say we weren't built for flight," he mused, more to himself than to Adeola.
Just as he was about to get dangerously close to the ground, Iron Hero reactivated his boosters at full force, launching himself back into the sky like a rocket. The pedestrians gasped and one even squatted down, bracing for impact, only to be left staring in disbelief as Iron Hero soared upwards. A light laugh escaped him as he watched the man below.
"You really seem to be enjoying your flight today, much like you're in a good mood," Adeola observed.
"Um, maybe... I saved Blessing once again. Did you hear her clip?" Iron Hero tried to whisper, "I've been kidnapped... Like she knew I'd come running like some male lead charact—"
He was interrupted by a message notification.
"Adeola, display," he commanded.The message read, 'You are a male lead.'
"Huh..." he muttered, a slight smirk forming on his lips.Another message arrived.
"Message from Blessing, boss," Adeola announced, opening the message.
"Oh, it's an audio log," Iron Hero noted.
"John, remember I had something to tell you before the whole kidnapping thing. I have a major suspect on who our assassin is... I also know that you can gain access to a hidden video recording on all your devices, so please do well to bring the clip from the camera in Van Vogel Suites room 27B, second floor from the top. It might prove substantial in clearing my point. Bye," Blessing's voice filled the air.As Iron Hero flew towards his office, which also served as his home, he spoke up,
"So she knows I have those... I guess—"
"..." Adeola remained silent.
"Well, let's go pay her family a visit this time. It's been long since they've heard from me," he decided, a determined look in his eyes.
"I'm sure you know better than to seek her annoyance." Adeola replies.
"Yeah yeah I know" John says with a smirk on his face.
"Where can get original De Vaan cookies?" John asked as he flew.
In the quiet room upstairs, Blessing sat on her bed, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. The walls were adorned with a mix of posters and framed photographs, memories and aspirations, all fading into the shadows as evening set in. Downstairs, the gentle hum of the television and her parents' muffled conversation added to the stillness of the house. The comforting yet distant noise reminded Blessing that she was alone in her pain.She attempted to stand, but her legs betrayed her, trembling with a weakness that sent a sharp jolt of pain up her spine. She clenched her teeth and gripped the bedpost, her knuckles turning white. Her knees buckled, and she sank back onto the bed, wincing. A frustrated cry escaped her lips, echoing the futility of her struggle. She shook her head, her braids swaying gently as she fought against the tears threatening to spill over.Blessing shifted her weight and managed to change her sitting position. Her determination unwavering, she leaned over the side of the bed, each movement a test of her endurance. With careful precision, she reached down and slid open a concealed drawer. Inside, the faint blue glow of her electronic leg support device greeted her. She took a deep breath and removed her trousers, her movements deliberate and methodical, as if she was performing a sacred ritual. She donned the leg supports, the robotic limbs clicking into place with a series of metallic clinks and whirrs.
"Ha…" she exhaled, relief washing over her.With the device supporting her, she rose to her feet, her legs steadying beneath her. The transformation was remarkable; she walked across the room with a newfound grace, each step measured but confident. She made her way to her study area, a small corner of the room where her desk and computer stood, and sat down to await John's arrival.Meanwhile, downstairs, the doorbell rang, a cheerful jingle that cut through the television's drone. Blessing's parents exchanged a glance before her father rose to answer the door. Standing on the doorstep, a box of cookies in hand, was John.
"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Onajite," John greeted with a warm smile.
"Good evening, John," Mrs. Onajite replied, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the cookies.
"Come in, come in!"John entered the house, his gaze drifting over the familiar surroundings. The living room, with its worn but comfortable furniture, family portraits, and the scent of freshly brewed tea, hadn't changed much since his last visit.
'Still the same cozy place,' he thought to himself.
"Blessing, Mr. John is here!" Mr. Onajite called out, his voice carrying up the stairs.Blessing's eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't expected John to come through the front door, let alone announce himself.
'I thought he knew better than to let them know he was coming,' she thought, a slight frown creasing her forehead. 'Looks like I'll have to remind him of our rules.'She rose from her chair, her movements now fluid and steady, and headed downstairs. As she descended, she could hear snippets of conversation drifting up the stairs.
'It's probably just small talk,' she reasoned. But then a thought struck her.
'Wait… are they discussing something with John? A male visitor…'
"No, no, no," she muttered under her breath, quickening her pace.As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw her parents and John seated around the dining table. They were enjoying the cookies, their conversation lively and animated.
"… but I assure you, she's a lovely girl. Don't let her tantrums fool you," her mother was saying, a playful smile on her lips.
Blessing felt a flush of embarrassment rise in her cheeks. She approached the dining table, her expression a mix of annoyance and amusement.
"I'm sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I believe John has more pressing matters to discuss," Blessing said, her tone firm but polite. She glanced at John and nodded towards the stairs, a silent request for him to follow her. John stood up, his movements a bit awkward as he hurried after her, the sound of his footsteps echoing up the stairs.
"What have I told you about visiting my parents?" Blessing asked as soon as they were out of earshot.
"Not to," John admitted, looking sheepish.
"Exactly. So why did you do it?"
"Well… I brought the clip from the hotel room, like you asked," John replied, quickly changing the subject.
Blessing raised an eyebrow. "Nice diversion. You're lucky it's relevant to our discussion."John managed a small smile, a hint of relief in his eyes.
"I haven't watched the video yet. But Adeola's been acting strangely since we got it. It's like she's hiding something. Blessing, what really happened that night?"
Blessing opened the door to her room and gestured for John to enter. They moved to her study area and sat down, the atmosphere becoming serious.
"That night… it's a bit hazy," Blessing began, hesitating as John gestured for her to continue.
"Come on, tell me what's going on," John urged.Blessing took a deep breath, removing her watch and handing it to John.
"As I was saying, I thought he wanted to talk me into endorsing him publicly. But he drugged me and took me to that hotel. I was lucky the assassin showed up when they did, or else…"
John's attention was fixed on the screen as he played the video clip. His expression turned from curiosity to shock as the events unfolded.
"What the hell are they doing?" he exclaimed, his voice rising in anger. He stood up abruptly, heading for the door.
"I'm going to confront Mr. Dere right now."
Blessing grabbed his arm, her grip firm. "Calm down. We have a lot more to uncover today, and rushing off won't help."
"Did you see what they were trying to do?" John asked, his voice still tense.
"I know," Blessing replied, her tone steady.
"It looks like they were planning to take compromising pictures. But it didn't happen. We need to focus on the assassin case first."
Adeola, John's AI, chimed in. "I've analyzed the footage and reconstructed the movements. In the second clip, the other captive, Dumi, displayed similar fighting techniques to the assassin."John nodded, his mind racing.
"So, you think we've found our assassin?"
"Possibly," Blessing agreed. "But we need more evidence. We should visit her and see how she reacts."
John considered her suggestion and nodded.
"Alright, we'll do it your way. Let's pay her a visit and see what she has to say."
Dumi strolled down Damilare Avenue, the quiet evening punctuated by the distant hum of traffic and the occasional chirp of crickets. The middle-class buildings lining the street glowed softly in the fading light. Reaching her home, she stepped inside, the familiar creak of the door offering a small comfort.
"Gramps isn't home yet," she mused, entering the cozy warmth of the hallway.
"I'd better start dinner before he gets back."She moved into the kitchen, where the soft glow of pendant lights illuminated the rustic charm of wooden cabinets and checkered floors. She arranged her ingredients with practiced efficiency—opening sachets, chopping vegetables, and lining up her spices.As she cooked, her mind wandered back to her recent encounters with Blessing and the kidnappers. Her hands worked on autopilot, stirring the pot while her thoughts raced.
"Why do I still feel so unsettled? What justifies my actions?" she wondered, her brow furrowing as she adjusted the flame under the pot.Her thoughts continued to spiral.
"Wait, I got kidnapped... Are they still searching for me after all these years? Or do they know I'm the assassin..."
Shaking her head, she refocused on her task. "Questions, questions, questions. They'll always come. Just concentrate on your task—one step at a time and you rid the world off another occultic monster. You have a billionaire who relies on his tech for protection... An easy target."
With a decisive nod, she turned on her mini speaker, cranked the volume, and set the bass to thump. She danced around the kitchen, her movements fluid and carefree, the music blending with the sounds of cooking.The doorbell rang, jolting her from her rhythm. Glancing at the clock, she cursed under her breath.
"Oh no, Gramps is going to kill me." She hurriedly paused the music and went to answer the door.She opened it to find Miss Blessing standing there, her presence serene yet commanding. Dumi's eyes widened in surprise, and she instinctively began closing the door.
"What's wrong with you? Didn't you remember to verify who's at the door first?" she chastised herself internally.
Outside, John spoke to Blessing through his earpiece. "I told you I should have just burst in."
"Sorry, sir, but if you burst in now, it would make things even more suspicious. We need to be cautious. Please wait," Blessing replied calmly.
"Alright, alright—" John began, but his words were cut off as Dumi opened the door again.
"Good evening, Ma'am. I apologize for the inconvenience. Gramps isn't here, and I assume you came to see—"
Blessing interrupted. "Actually, I came to see you."
"Huh? Me? Do I know you? Gramps is the one you need to speak with. You know I'm not exactly a fan," Dumi retorted.
While Dumi and Blessing conversed at the door, John—Iron Hero—made his way through the kitchen. With a practiced motion, he navigated through the house and emerged in the sitting room. The space was elegantly furnished, with comfortable sofas and a large coffee table in the center. Dumi was startled when she saw Iron Hero enter the sitting room, his imposing figure cutting a stark contrast against the room's coziness.
"Hello there," he said, his voice calm but commanding. "It looks like you've got something delicious in the works. I hope we get to sample it, though that depends on how this meeting goes."
Blessing took advantage of Dumi's distraction, slipping inside and closing the door behind her. She took a seat on one of the sofas and gestured for Dumi to join her. The sitting room, usually a place of relaxation, now felt like the stage for an intense confrontation. Dumi sat down reluctantly, the warmth of the room now overshadowed by the tension in the air. Silence fell until Blessing broke it, her tone serious and unyielding.
"I'm going to be direct with you. We have reason to believe that you're an assassin."
"What? I don't follow. Assassin... What should I even say?" Dumi feigned confusion, her fingers nervously tapping the arm of the sofa.
Iron Hero interjected, "Show her."
Blessing retrieved a tablet from her bag and placed it on the coffee table.
"I think these clips might ring a bell."
The tablet displayed two side-by-side videos: one from the night at Van Vogel's and the other from the recent van escape. Both clips showed a small figure moving with precise, lethal efficiency against larger opponents.
"And..." Dumi prompted, trying to maintain her composure.
Blessing continued, "Do you know what's common between these events? I was present at both."
'So she was there that night,'Dumi thought, a shiver of realization running through her. She attempted to stay calm. "And what does that prove?"
Blessing replied, "I witnessed both attacks. I didn't recognize the first figure but did recognized the second."
Iron Hero added, "Our analysis shows that the attack patterns are almost identical—eighty-seven percent similarity. And that's a lot."
"So this whole thing is based on my combat skills and their resemblance to an assassin's? What—" Dumi began.
Iron Hero placed a finger over her lips. "Shush, not done yet. Here's a tip: if you want to survive long in in the underworld, avoid using Adrotech products."
"What are you—" Dumi started, but John cut her off again."Shush. Adrotech products all have trackers—yes, even their contact lenses."
John moved around her with deliberate steps, his presence commanding attention. Dumi's anxiety was palpable.
"How do I get out of this?" she thought frantically.
John continued, "We traced the contact lenses found at both scenes—the Van Vogel night and the recent van kidnapping. They led us to other murders, and we discovered something else..."
He leaned closer, his gaze intense. "The same contact lenses you purchased were found in ninety percent of recent political assassinations over the last sixteen months."
Dumi's heart raced, her face paling as the weight of the revelation sank in. Without a moment's hesitation, she drew a knife from her shin and lunged toward Blessing. Iron Hero's reflexes were swift as he grabbed her arm, halting her advance.
"Ah ah ah..." Iron Hero shook his head disapprovingly. Dumi, undeterred, quickly drew another knife with her left hand.'I might not be able to take him down, but I have to take my chances,' she thought desperately.She slashed at Iron Hero, who bent backward to avoid the blade, releasing her arm in the process.
"Adeola, why did you force me to dodge just now?" John asked, clearly surprised by the sudden move.
"The knife she wields would slice through your armor on contact," Adeola explained.
"What—" John began, but Dumi was already moving, seizing the distraction to dart toward the kitchen. Iron Hero recovered quickly, firing his grappling hook. The hook shot out, but Dumi was too fast. She veered to the side, and the hook embedded itself in the wall behind her. With a swift motion, she sliced through the cable, rendering it useless.Iron Hero switched tactics. His fists crackled with electricity as he charged forward. Dumi rolled aside, narrowly avoiding a punch that left a smoldering crater in the floor. Scrambling to her feet, she parried Iron Hero's next blow with a blade that blurred with motion.Despite the suit's bulk, Iron Hero was a skilled fighter, each move calculated and powerful. But Dumi's agility kept her just out of reach. She danced around him, her blade slicing through armor as though it were paper.
"Where did you get your blade?" Iron Hero asked.
"On the black market," Dumi replied.
"Huh," Iron Hero grunted, his suit sparking and groaning under the assault.
"Heh, I haven't had this much of a challenge in a long time," Iron Hero said, a hint of admiration in his voice. He swung a tasing fist at Dumi, but she was already moving, her blade flashing as she struck again. Each of Iron Hero's punches sent shockwaves through the air as he picked up the pace, trying to match her speed. Despite his efforts, Dumi's agility remained unmatched. She ducked under his swings, her blade cutting through armor with ease. Iron Hero's suit began to fail, the servos slowing and the lights dimming. Still, he was relentless. He waited for the perfect moment and fired his grappling hook again. This time, it wrapped around Dumi's waist, pulling her back forcefully. Dumi gasped as she was yanked off her feet and thrown to the ground, her blade skittering across the floor.
"I'd suggest you knock her down fast lest she wrecks your suit." Adeola adviced.
"Got it," John said, moving in closer.
Dumi tried to rise from the floor despite the pain. She scanned the room, her eyes locking onto Blessing, who was standing not far away. With renewed determination, Dumi lunged toward Blessing. Iron Hero fired his grappling hook again, but Dumi slid underneath it. She drew another knife from her shin, ready for another attack. Blessing attempted to leap over the nearby couch in a desperate bid to escape, but Dumi was quicker. She grabbed Blessing by the ankle and yanked her down. With a swift motion, Dumi held the knife close to Blessing's neck, causing Iron Hero to pause.
"Any moves, she gets it," Dumi warned.
"I know you can't kill me," Blessing said calmly. "You don't kill for fun... Your murders are more fueled by hate."
Dumi's heart pounded. 'I can't get caught... Can't get caught,' she thought frantically. In a sudden decision, she stabbed Blessing in the side instead. John froze in shock, his gaze fixed on the scene.
"Boss, Boss, Sire," Adeola called urgently.John remained frozen, his mind racing back to events from fifteen years ago, he could remember clearly A younger version of Blessing looking limp with blood all over.
"John, Rotimi," The sound of Adeola calling him snapped him back to the present.
John fell to the floor but quickly moved to Blessing, who was now slumped on the ground.
"Go get'er... She's escaping."
"No..." John said, his voice filled with urgency.With a grim determination, John scooped up Blessing and, using his damaged suit's remaining power, flew her toward the nearest hospital. The suit, strained and sparking, struggled to maintain altitude, but John's focus was singular: getting Blessing to safety. He cast a final glance at the direction Dumi had fled before speeding away, leaving the chaos behind.
Later that night, Mr. Edema arrived at the house to find the scene in disarray.
"What is this?" he exclaimed, surveying the damage.
He pulled out his phone and dialed the police emergency number. Within minutes, the house was flooded with police vehicles, their flashing lights cutting through the darkness as officers began to investigate the scene.