MORINJO
My head feels heavy, like I've just woken from a deep sleep. But when I open my eyes, I freeze. Below my feet stretches a narrow, shimmering pathway, glowing faintly in the infinite black of space. Stars twinkle around me, impossibly close.
I lift a hand to my chest. My heart thunders. Am I... breathing?
"Yes, you are," a calm voice answers from nowhere, startling me. I spin around, but there's no one here. Just the endless expanse.
"Who said that?"
"It's me, Path Finder," the voice replies, soft yet commanding. "You're in the Astral Realm now. Millions of places exist here, much like your physical world."
I take a shaky step forward, the narrow path solid underfoot, though I can't feel gravity holding me. "Space..." I murmur. "I never thought I'd actually be here."
"Few do," Path Finder says. "But today is no ordinary day."
The path ahead glows brighter, guiding me forward. A breathtaking vision materializes—a planet, spinning slowly in the distance, its surface alive with a riot of colors. Gold rivers wind through emerald valleys; crimson mountains rise against indigo skies.
"That's..." My voice catches. "That's stunning. Where am I going?"
"You're about to see someone's story," Path Finder replies. "After the fall of Malacoda, I attended the Sentry's meeting. Together, we decided to search for beings powerful enough to protect their worlds."
I glance down at the glowing path under my feet. It feels fragile, like it could vanish at any second. "What does that have to do with me?"
"You'll understand soon."
As the vibrant planet draws closer, I feel a pull—like it's alive and calling me. With a flash of light, the path disappears, and I land softly on a glittering surface. The ground shimmers beneath me, made of something between gold and crystal. Around me, creatures with radiant, golden skin move gracefully, their bodies glimmering as if they were crafted from sunlight.
"This is the planet Treasure," Path Finder explains. "Home to eight tribes, each unique in their colors, languages, and traditions. But one among them stands out."
My eyes wander to the towering buildings in the distance, their architecture surreal, like something out of a dream. Spires of blue and gold pierce the glowing sky, and strange machines hum softly, their purpose a mystery.
"Who?" I ask.
"Belteshazzar," Path Finder says, his tone reverent. "A remarkable soul—kind, powerful, and destined to stand beside you."
The scene changes suddenly, like a curtain pulled from a stage. I'm in a grand hall, its walls lined with intricate carvings that seem to tell stories of ancient battles. At the center, a regal figure—a man cloaked in deep red—sits on a throne, flanked by golden guards. Beside him stands a younger man, his posture confident but humble.
"That's King Issachar," Path Finder whispers. "And next to him is Belteshazzar."
I squint at the younger man. There's something magnetic about him—a quiet strength in the way he holds himself. "What's his story?" I ask.
The hall fades, and I'm suddenly standing on a desolate hill under a blood-red sky. The air feels heavy, thick with tension.
"Belteshazzar wasn't always the hero he is now," Path Finder begins. "He was an astronomer—an ordinary man with an extraordinary mind. But when the cosmic entity Goliath threatened his world, he made a choice."
The scene shifts again, and I see a massive, shadowy form towering over a younger Belteshazzar. The astronomer's face is pale, his fists clenched.
"He offered himself to Goliath," Path Finder continues, his voice heavy with emotion. "In exchange for sparing Treasure, he became Goliath's herald. Transformed into the Burning Light, he gained unimaginable power—but at a cost."
I watch as Belteshazzar's body glows, encased in a golden aura. His face hardens as he leads Goliath's destructive path across countless worlds.
"He regretted it," I murmur, feeling the weight of his story settle in my chest.
Path Finder nods. "He saw the devastation he caused. And when he could no longer bear it, he rebelled. His defiance cost him everything—his home, his people. But it also gave him a chance to start over."
The scene shifts once more, and I'm standing in the bustling streets of New York City. The air smells of rain and gasoline. Belteshazzar stands on a rooftop, his golden form dimmed, his gaze distant.
"This is his future," Path Finder says. "He'll come to Earth, searching for redemption. He'll fight alongside you and the Ventures, protecting a world that isn't his, longing for the one he lost."
I look up at Belteshazzar, seeing not just a warrior but a man burdened by his past. "Why show me this?" I ask softly.
Path Finder's voice grows gentler. "Because understanding your team means accepting who they are—and who they're becoming."
I open my eyes, seeing a ceiling fan rolling. I rise up to sit and check my alarm clock. The time says 7:30 a.m. I rub my eyes to see clear and say "Belteshazzar."
Next Day
8:00 a.m.
San Quentin Rehabilitation Center Prison
DOCTOR CHRISTIAN
The morning air carries a chill, but I push through it, sweat beading on my forehead as I drop into another round of push-ups. My muscles burn with each repetition, but it's a familiar fire—one that keeps me grounded. After sit-ups and a quick session with the dumbbells, I feel the ache settle in.
The scent of breakfast wafts through the hall as I make my way to the kitchen. Inside, the clang of pots and pans is constant, a rhythm as steady as the prison routine. Inmates shuffle through the line, each waiting their turn without complaint. When my turn comes, I nod at the chef, who slides a plate of eggs and toast onto my tray.
I sit with the guards as I eat, their watchful eyes a constant reminder of where I am. They're not unkind, but they don't talk much, and I don't push for conversation. Silence, I've learned, is often the loudest thing in this place.
After breakfast, I retreat to my room, the quiet a welcome reprieve. I stretch out on the thin mattress, letting the weight of the day melt away as I close my eyes. Sleep comes quickly—until a sudden, jarring noise shatters it.
I sit up, my brow furrowed. The sound isn't just loud; it's chaotic, like the world outside is coming undone. My bare feet hit the cold floor as I stride to the window.
At first, I only see the prisoners, clustered together in the yard. Their heads tilt back, their faces a mixture of awe and terror. Some murmur, others shout, but all eyes are fixed on the sky.
"What the hell..." I mutter, following their gaze.
A golden streak cuts through the heavens, blazing like a second sun. It moves with impossible speed, weaving erratically as though testing the air. Then, with a sharp turn, it descends. The ground trembles as machines around the yard spark and groan, engines sputtering in protest. The air crackles with static, a palpable energy that sends shivers down my spine.
One of the prisoners—a tough woman known for her stoicism—lets out a scream as the creature slows its descent, hovering just above the ground. Its body gleams like molten gold, radiant yet otherworldly.
The air around us grows thick, buzzing with power. Engines in the distance whine and overheat, one even exploding with a sharp bang. A wave of heat washes over the yard as prisoners scatter, some tripping over themselves in their haste to get away.
I stay rooted, my pulse quickening as the creature's form becomes clearer. Its movements are graceful but deliberate, as though every step, every shift, holds a purpose beyond my understanding.
"Welcome to Earth, alien," I murmur, unable to suppress the grin tugging at my lips. My mind races, already piecing together the questions I'll ask, the steps I'll take to unravel this mystery.
Behind me, the guards bark orders, struggling to maintain control. But I'm not listening. All I can think is this: the world is about to change forever, and I plan to be at the center of it.
MORINJO
**4:00 p.m. – Montana City**
Jessica and I load the last of the groceries onto the cashier's counter. The hum of the supermarket buzzes around us, but her voice cut through the noise like a melody.
"I still can't believe Bumblebee's sacrifice," Jessica said, her eyes bright with the thrill of our conversation. "It was so unexpected."
"Yeah," I replied, my voice distant. "But he came back stronger. Kind of like what we'll have to do—no matter what's coming."
Her brow furrows slightly. "What do you mean by that?"
I shake my head, forcing a smile. "Nothing. Let's get moving."
As we step outside, the air carries a bite of cold, sharp enough to wake most people up. For me, it only deepens the gnawing in my gut. Jessica slid into the passenger seat of my Camaro, oblivious to the tension that had begun coiling inside me.
She starts talking again as I start the engine. "You've got to admit, though, the effects in that final battle? Incredible. I was gripping the armrest like my life depended on it."
"Yeah," I murmured, my eyes on the road as the city blurred by.
"You're quiet," she said, tilting her head to look at me. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," I replied too quickly.
Her silence filles the space between us, pressing heavy on my shoulders. She didn't believe me.
---
By the time we reach Ultimate Tower, her mood have shifted. I park the car, and we climb out, our footsteps echoing in the quiet.
Inside, Leonard's voice greets us before we even see hiim. "Finally! Took you two long enough." He is bent over a glowing monitor in the science room, surrounded by scattered notes and flickering blue holograms.
"What's so important?" I asked, stepping closer.
Instead of answering, he grabs the remote and turns up the volume on the TV.
"...Military officials have confirmed their deep concerns regarding the potential threat posed by these cosmic disturbances," the newscaster said, her tone grim. "The military's response has been swift and decisive, with specialized teams deployed to key locations worldwide to monitor and analyze the anomalies. Advanced equipment and cutting-edge technology are being employed in an effort to unravel the mysteries surrounding the alien and its impact on Earth.
While details remain scarce, Experts speculate that the alien's presence may be altering the fabric of space-time itself, causing disruptions that could have far-reaching consequences. Citizens are urged to remain vigilant and report any unusual phenomena to authorities immediately.
As the world awaits further developments, one thing is certain: the US military remains steadfast in its commitment to safeguarding the planet against extraterrestrial threats. Stay tuned for more updates on this unfolding story."
Jessica crosses her arms. "Cosmic disturbances? That sounds... ominous."
Leonard don't even glance her way. "It's more than ominous. It's bad. Really bad."
My stomach churns as the word alien repeated in my head like an echo. Belteshazzar.
Jessica catches the shift in my expression. "What is it?"
"Nothing," I muttered, stepping back toward the door.
"Nothing?" she shoots back, following me. "You don't get to pull that after dropping a name like that under your breath. Belteshazzar? Who is that? What do you know?"
I keep walking, ignoring her voice, the weight of Path Finder's warning crushing me.
---
Later, in my room, I sit on the bed, staring at the wall as Jessica appears in the doorway.
"I'm not letting this go, Morinjo," she said, arms crosses. "Talk to me."
"It's complicated."
"Everything about our lives is complicated. Try me."
I sigh, rubbing my temples. "Path Finder doesn't think we're enough to protect Earth. He said we need more. He chose Belteshazzar, a creature loyal to Goliath, to join us."
Her eyes widens. "Wait. You're saying that *thing* is supposed to help us?"
"That's what Path Finder claims. But I don't trust him."
She steps closer, her voice softening. "You're worried he'll betray us, aren't you?"
"Not just that," I said, my voice dropping. "I'm worried we might not be able to stop him if he does."
Her hand rests on my shoulder, grounding me. "Then we don't do it alone. We face it together, like always."
For the first time all evening, I meet her gaze. "I hope you're right."
She smiles faintly. "I usually am."
Saturday, 7:30 p.m.
Living Faith Church Worldwide, Opposite O'Marks School, Km 11 Lasu-Isheri Road, Lagos, Nigeria.
SAMUEL
I step into the groom's room, where laughter and warm banter ripple through the air like an old melody. The room buzzes with life—Desmond's groomsmen adjust their ties, tease one another, and debate last-minute details. In the midst of it all stands Desmond, his suit half-buttoned, his face alight with joy.
"Look who finally made it!" Desmond grins as I walk in, his voice carrying over the noise.
"You think I'd miss this?" I reply, clasping his hand in a firm shake.
Desmond's eyes crinkle with mischief. "Well, you were late to your own birthday last year, so I wouldn't put it past you."
The room erupts in laughter, and I roll my eyes in mock indignation.
"Alright, fair, but this isn't about me. How're you feeling?" I ask, leaning in slightly.
Desmond's smile softens. "Excited. Nervous. You know how it is." He glances down at his cufflinks, fidgeting with them. "But mostly, I'm just grateful."
"To Susan?" I tease.
"To all of it," he says, his tone sincere. "To you. To the crazy things we've been through. You've always had my back."
"That's what friends do," I reply firmly. "And you'd do the same for me."
The door creaks open, and Chioma steps in, her emerald-green dress catching the light as she moves. She smiles at me, and for a moment, the room fades away.
"Sorry to interrupt, but they're almost ready for you outside," she says, her gaze flicking between Desmond and me.
"Perfect timing," Desmond says, his grin returning. "But you two lovebirds better not upstage me today."
Chioma laughs softly. "Not a chance." She leans closer to me, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I think I'm more nervous than Susan."
"You hide it well," I say, squeezing her hand briefly.
---
**The Ceremony Begins.**
The soft murmur of the crowd hushes as Susan steps into view. Her wedding dress shimmers in the golden light spilling through the windows, lace and beads catching every ray like tiny stars. Gasps ripple through the room, and even Desmond seems momentarily struck speechless.
"She's stunning," I whisper to Chioma, who nods, her eyes glistening.
Susan glides down the aisle on her father's arm, her smile radiant, her steps measured. At the altar, Desmond's nervousness melts away as he takes her hand.
"Beloved in Christ," the pastor begins, his voice steady and rich, "we have gathered here today in the sight of God and these witnesses to join together Desmond Godwin and Susan Storm in holy matrimony. This is a joyous occasion, a celebration of love and commitment, and we are privileged to be a part of it..."
The ceremony continues smoothly—until it doesn't.
---
The Disruption.
A sharp, high-pitched hum pierces the air, making the microphone squeal. The lights flicker. Murmurs spread through the crowd.
"What's happening?" Chioma whispers, clutching my arm.
"Stay calm," I reply, scanning the room as unease ripples through the guests.
The sound intensifies, followed by a deafening crash outside. Gasps and cries break out as people turn toward the commotion.
"Wait here," I say to Chioma, rising from my seat.
Several of us rush outside, only to be met with a sight that defies explanation. Three mangled cars lie crumpled against the shattered fence. Sparks shower from torn electrical wires, and debris litters the ground.
"What on Earth...?" someone murmurs.
The sky above darkens unnaturally, and then it happens—a sleek, glowing figure descends from the heavens, its form shimmering like molten silver. It hovers, silent and imposing, its very presence commanding awe and fear.
"What is that?" Chioma asks, her voice trembling.
"It's not from Earth," I reply, my pulse quickening.
The figure's gaze sweeps over us, then shoots upward, zipping through the skyline like a comet.
---
The hunt is on. With a quick dash, I sprint, muscles tense with anticipation. Suddenly, amidst the cacophony of the bustling city, a distinctive hum filles the air — a sound all too familiar to me. I glance backwards, but up, and there it is, my armor, a high-tech marvel, glinting in the sunlight as it sails towards me with the precision of a hawk homing in on its prey.
The armor, a striking ensemble of deep blue and bold red accented with golden hues, appears as if summoned by the urgency of the chase. I extend my arms and within a heartbeat, the suit begins its rapid transformation. Components latch onto my body, mechanical limbs intertwining with biological ones. Plates align with a symphony of clicks and hisses, encasing me in a protective shell of advanced technology.
Visor snapping into place over my eyes, the world before me becomes a rich tapestry of data and tracking vectors. With my enhanced senses, I can almost feel the alien's erratic pulse through the cityscape. Now fully armored, I'm no longer just a man; I am a nexus of flesh and steel, a harbinger of the chase, primed to reclaim the skies and apprehend my otherworldly quarry.
I leap into action, the boosters on my heels propelling me skyward. The city blurs beneath me as I track the alien's erratic path. My visor overlays tracking data, highlighting its glowing trail.
"Target locked," the AI announces.
I fire a burst of projectiles, each one whizzing toward the figure. It dodges effortlessly, weaving between buildings like liquid light.
"Damn it," I mutter, increasing speed.
In a daring move, the alien swoops in, seizing me with an otherworldly grip. Together, we soar into the upper atmosphere before a heart-stopping drop back to Earth.
"Brace for impact!" the AI warns as I hurtle toward the ground.
The last thing I see before everything goes black is Chioma's face, her expression frozen in a mix of terror and disbelief.
Gbagada General Hospital
The sterile scent of antiseptic hits me as I blink into the glare of the hospital lights. My body feels like it's been through a grinder—sharp aches, dull throbs, and a bandage wrapped tight around my forehead. The room is a pristine white, walls gleaming like freshly polished glass.
"Welcome back, Samuel," a voice says gently. I turn to see Mr. Edward, my doctor, standing at my bedside. His face is calm, reassuring, but his eyes hold a question.
"How do you feel?" he asks, leaning closer.
I shift, testing my limbs. Everything hurts, but I manage to speak. "Like I fought the world and lost," I mutter. A fractured memory flares—chasing the alien, the crash, the blinding light. "I almost had him," I add quietly.
The words feel hollow, like an echo in a vast, empty space. "How did I end up here?"
Before Mr. Edward can respond, the door creaks open. My mom is the first to enter, her face a mixture of worry and relief. Chioma follows, her gaze locking onto mine, her lips parting in a sigh. Behind them are Desmond, Susan, and Jennifer, their expressions tense but softening as they see me awake.
"Thank God," my mom breathes, rushing to my side. She touches my hand, her warmth grounding me in the moment.
"I told you, I'm built tough," I say, forcing a weak smile.
Chioma steps closer, her voice trembling. "How do you feel now?"
"Alive," I reply, glancing at Desmond. "I'm sorry for ruining your wedding, bro."
Desmond waves me off, his tone firm but kind. "You didn't ruin anything. We're just glad you're here. Only a few people..." He pauses, his jaw tightening. "Only a few didn't make it."
The weight of his words settles over the room like a shroud. My mom crosses herself, murmuring a prayer.
Jennifer breaks the silence with her usual bluntness. "So... alien? Really? Like, E.T. in real life?"
"It wasn't just any alien," I say, my voice low. "It shone like the sun—golden light everywhere. It wasn't from this world. I'm sure of that."
My mom shakes her head. "Aliens? Samuel, are you sure it wasn't your head injury? You know how movies can influence the mind."
"I know what I saw," I insist, sitting up slightly despite the pain. "It wasn't a dream. It was real."
"Real enough to crash a helicopter and ruin a wedding," Desmond mutters.
Jennifer snorts. "I'd still like to meet it, though. Imagine the selfies."
Desmond glares at her. "Seriously? After what happened?"
"Wetin?" Chioma cuts in, smiling. "She can't dream small?"
Susan, who's been quiet until now, steps forward. "Samuel, did it... did it say anything? What it wanted?"
I shake my head. "No. I didn't get the chance. My plan was to capture it, figure out why it came here, but—" I gesture to the room. "You know the rest."
Chioma touches my arm, her voice steady. "You survived. That's what matters."
"Survived for what?" I ask quietly, more to myself than anyone else. "To wait for it to come back?"
The room falls silent, the unspoken question lingering: What happens next?
To be continued...