After Lumumba's emotional breakdown, Amara and Jon helped him to his feet. The looks on their faces were filled with concern and confusion, but most of all, with a question that remained unspoken: What had happened to him? They walked back to the camp in silence, each step heavy with the weight of Lumumba's unspoken pain. He didn't say a word, lost in thought, trapped between two worlds. The emotional toll weighed on him as much as the physical one.
The crackling of campfires, the distant hum of soldiers talking, everything felt far away. Amara and Jon gave him space, sensing his fragility. But Amara, always perceptive, stayed close, her eyes watching him carefully, trying to understand.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Amara broke the silence. The two of them were sitting alone under the stars, away from the rest of the camp. The night was quiet, the only sounds the occasional rustle of wind in the trees. She leaned toward him slightly, her eyes filled with gentle curiosity.
"Lumumba, what happened to you?"
Lumumba stared at the ground for a moment, struggling with how much to reveal. He trusted Amara, but he couldn't explain everything—not now. Not when he barely understood it himself. Still, she deserved part of the truth.
"I went back home," he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Back to where I came from. You know I don't belong in this world... but this time, it felt more real. I saw faces, people I thought I'd never see again. My family... my old life."
Amara remained silent, listening intently. Her heart tightened at the mention of his family. She knew the pain of loss, and while she couldn't fully understand what Lumumba had gone through, she could feel his sadness through his words.
"And you had to leave them again, didn't you?" she said gently, her voice filled with compassion.
Lumumba clenched his fists. "Yeah. But this time... it was worse. I didn't choose to leave. I was ripped away, like something here is keeping me trapped."
Amara nodded slowly, understanding beginning to dawn on her. "That explains your state... but what was it over there that hurt you so much?"
Lumumba hesitated, trying to hide the storm of emotions still raging inside him. "I learned things... about my family, about the people who tormented me. And now, I'm stuck here... unable to protect them."
He looked away, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall again. The silence between them grew heavier, the air thick with everything he couldn't say.
Seeing the tension build, Amara instinctively tried to comfort him, to bring back the sarcastic, sharp-witted Ubuntu she knew so well. But before she could speak, Lumumba lifted his head, a half-smile tugging at his lips, sad but still playful.
"I'm feeling pretty down, you know," he said softly, his tone a mix of seriousness and mischief. "Maybe showing me one of your boobs would help cheer me up."
Amara blinked, stunned by his words for a moment. Then, a smile spread across her face as she let out a soft laugh. She shook her head, unsure whether to be exasperated or relieved to see a glimpse of his usual self.
"You're impossible, Lumumba." She gave him a light shove on the shoulder. "Maybe someday. But not like this." She crossed her arms, giving him a mock stern look.
Lumumba laughed, the sound rough but genuine. It was brief, but it lightened the heavy mood that had settled between them.
The next morning, after a quiet breakfast with Amara and Jon, Lumumba began piecing together the scattered fragments of his thoughts. He couldn't shake the feeling that the fissures were the key to everything—the bridges between the worlds, the strange link between him and his tormentors, and even his ability to return home.
He turned to Amara and Jon, sharing his theories. "Michael's family... they're not just bullies. They became one of the wealthiest families in my world in a ridiculously short time."
Jon looked at him, curiosity piqued. "Michael... that guy who used to torment you, right?"
Lumumba nodded. "Yeah. But it's not just him. His family... they've got secrets. I think their rise to power is connected to the fissures."
Amara frowned. "You think they're involved in the fissures somehow?"
Lumumba shrugged. "I don't know for sure yet. But when I was back home, Michael said things—things he shouldn't have known. If they've figured out how to control or manipulate the fissures, they might be more dangerous than I ever realized."
Amara's expression darkened as she considered this. If Michael's family had access to such power, they could be a far greater threat than they had anticipated.
The fissures were becoming more frequent, more dangerous. Lumumba knew they were the key to unlocking everything—the connection between his world and this one, and possibly a way back for good. He needed answers.
As he dug deeper, he began to unravel the mystery of the fissures, finding ancient texts in Amara's royal library that hinted at a deliberate creation of these portals. They weren't just random anomalies; they were controlled by powerful forces, entities that sought to bridge or destroy the barriers between worlds.
There were also prophecies about an individual capable of traveling between worlds, someone with the ability to save or destroy both realms.
Lumumba read the ancient lines, a grimace on his face. "Of course, there's always a prophecy. Bit cliché, don't you think?"
Amara gave him a faint smile. "Maybe it's you."
"Or maybe it's just another way to get us running in circles. But if these fissures keep opening, both worlds could collapse."
Jon, visibly worried, asked, "So, what do we do now?"
Lumumba, more determined than ever, stood up and looked toward the horizon, where another fissure was threatening to tear open.
"We close them. One by one, until we figure out who's pulling the strings. And if Michael's family is involved... I'll make sure to deal with them myself."
Amara and Jon exchanged a glance. The plan was risky, but they knew Lumumba wouldn't stop until he got the answers—and the justice—he was after.