The market was always alive with energy, a chaotic blend of voices haggling, the scent of spices lingering in the air, and the occasional cry of a street vendor trying to make a sale. It was here, in the midst of all this noise and movement, that Efe and Osahon truly learned what it meant to survive.
Flashback: Strength in Unity
Efe and Osahon had been running for what felt like hours, ducking through narrow alleys, vaulting over makeshift barricades, and losing their pursuers in the maze of Benin City's busiest streets. Their crime? A loaf of bread from a vendor who had shortchanged them first.
"We can't keep doing this," Efe panted, resting his hands on his knees as they finally stopped behind an abandoned shack.
Osahon, barely winded, grinned at him. "Then we need to get better at not getting caught."
Efe shot him a glare before breaking into a grin himself. "Or maybe you could stop making me run while you enjoy the chase."
Osahon chuckled. "If we didn't run, we wouldn't get faster. And if we didn't fight, we wouldn't get stronger." He tore the bread in half and handed a piece to Efe. "And if we didn't steal, we wouldn't eat."
Efe took the bread, chewing slowly as he thought about Osahon's words. He had a way of making even their struggles feel like preparation for something greater, something beyond the streets they called home.
For years, they had fought together, learned together, survived together. But Osahon had always been different. There were times he moved too quickly, reacted too sharply, fought too well for someone who had never trained formally. Efe noticed it but never questioned it—not until one night when the truth became undeniable.
It had been a quiet evening, the air thick with the promise of rain. They had taken refuge near an old warehouse, passing time with idle talk when a group of armed men approached them. They were older, stronger, and by all means, should have overpowered them easily.
But Osahon had moved like lightning. Before Efe could react, his friend had taken down the first attacker with a single strike, his movements fluid and precise. The others hesitated, startled by the display. When one of them swung a blade at Osahon, it barely grazed his skin—his body almost seemed to shimmer, as if something unseen was protecting him.
Efe had fought too, but it was different. He felt like a child swinging blindly, while Osahon moved with purpose. When the last attacker hit the ground, groaning in pain, Efe finally turned to Osahon.
"What was that?" he asked, his breath uneven.
Osahon's usual grin faltered. He looked at his hands, flexing them. "I... don't know."
But Efe knew he was lying. He just didn't push for answers—not yet.
Back to the Present
The sound of shouting and the hum of Rift energy snapped Efe back to reality. He and Osahon stood at the edge of the battlefield near Oba Market, watching as soldiers and Rift Wardens formed a defensive line around the glowing portal.
Unlike before, when they had fought side by side against creatures spilling from the Rift, this time, a line had been drawn—literally. A shimmering barrier separated them from the entrance, and the guards stationed in front of it didn't look like they planned to let anyone through without clearance.
"We need to get in there," Efe muttered.
Osahon's jaw tightened. "We won't be allowed."
Before Efe could ask why, a commanding voice interrupted them. "Unauthorized personnel are not permitted beyond this point."
They turned to see a tall woman in a Warden uniform, her gaze sharp and assessing. She had the insignia of a high-ranking officer and the kind of presence that made it clear she wasn't to be argued with.
"This isn't just any Rift," she continued. "It's unstable, and entry is restricted to designated teams only."
Efe clenched his fists. "We've fought before. We can handle ourselves."
"You fought because there was no containment," she said flatly. "Now, there is." She nodded toward a group approaching the Rift—three individuals, each radiating power.
The first was a man with deep-set eyes and an intricate tattoo running up his arm. The air around him crackled with energy, as if he carried a storm within him. The second was a woman dressed in sleek combat gear, twin blades strapped to her back, her every movement controlled and precise.
The third figure, however, made Efe's stomach churn. He was an older man, wearing ceremonial robes that bore the markings of one of Nigeria's elite guilds. Unlike other nations, Nigeria didn't have independent guilds operating outside government control. If this man was here, it meant the Rift's importance had reached the highest levels of power.
Osahon exhaled slowly. "They're Rift Hunters."
Efe's brows furrowed. "Guild mercenaries?"
Osahon shook his head. "No. Worse. They work directly for the government, controlling access to high-value Rifts. If they're here, it means whatever is inside that Rift is valuable."
Efe watched as the three stepped forward, the barrier parting briefly to let them through. As they disappeared into the swirling vortex, the reality of their situation sank in.
They were being left behind.
Not because they lacked strength. Not because they weren't willing to fight. But because the system in place had already decided who was worthy of stepping through that Rift—and who wasn't.
Efe glanced at Osahon, reading the frustration in his eyes. He wasn't the only one who felt it.
"This isn't over," Efe muttered. "We'll find another way."
Osahon's lips curled into a smirk, but there was no humor in it. "We always do."
As they turned away from the Rift, a plan already forming in Efe's mind, the system chimed once more:
NEW OBJECTIVE: SHADOWS BEYOND THE RIFT
Status: Restricted Access
Additional Task: Uncover the True Purpose of the Rift Hunters
Efe clenched his fists. If they wouldn't be allowed inside, they'd have to figure out why. And more importantly, who was truly in control of the gates between worlds.
To be continue.....