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Chapter 6

Bibire suddenly woke in the middle of the night. His discernment was sharp — something was about to happen, and any delay could cost him his life. And if he died now, it would mean not only the end of his mission, but also countless damage left unchecked because he was no more.

He hurriedly changed into casual wear, not even thinking of what to take with him. Even using the front door was a risk. Instead, he opened the window and, with ease, tore away the burglary bar as though it were just resting against the wall.

As he turned, he felt a presence — several, in fact — closing in on his door. The aura they carried was vile and unmistakable. Among them, only two were human.

“Nephilims,” he muttered, before leaping out of the window.

He landed, but before he could take another leap, a massive force slammed into him midair, throwing him into the ground with devastating impact. The earth cracked beneath him, leaving a crater.

“Huffff…” Bibire gasped for air as he tried to rise.

“We knew you’d be a problem,” a deep voice rumbled behind him.

Bleeding from the side of his head, Bibire stood, glaring at the towering figure before him — a ten-foot Nephilim clad in heavy metal armor, its entire presence radiating menace.

“I see you’re doing the work of your father,” Bibire said, suppressing every trace of fear within himself.

The Nephilim sneered. “Funny. Even your pastors do the work of my father. You chosen ones are the real problem. Our time has come. And every obstacle must be erased — starting with you.”

It began to approach, each step sinking into the ground.

Bibire’s mind raced. I’d be a fool to take it head-on. Even if I could, this isn’t the time. Survival comes first. I can feel it — this fight isn’t necessary now.

Still, he dropped into a fighting stance, his left hand stretched forward, body low, ready to react.

The Nephilim scoffed, then charged, its armored steps thundering across the earth. Bibire sprinted toward it as well. Just as their fists were about to collide, he slid beneath its legs, spun, and with explosive speed, launched himself into the sky.

A sonic boom cracked through the night as Bibire vanished into the distance.

The Nephilim clenched its fists, bones cracking. “A sneaky one… you are.”


---

Across the country, unseen occurrences were steadily spreading. From suffocating policies to unnatural disasters, all seemed to strike with strategic intent.

Only weeks ago, a wildfire had devoured the nation’s largest farming state, crippling food production. Prices soared, hunger followed, health deteriorated. Strange new diseases and skin conditions appeared — things never before seen. Yet the people were fed false hope.

But now, even hope had been stripped away. What remained was forced survival.

The government had begun pushing new policies on money and trade. A technology requiring DNA to access payment systems was being introduced. No ID, no currency, no survival.

What choice did anyone have?

Regions with little to no options had already begun to clamor for its implementation — just so they could live off what little the government was willing to provide.


---

Chapter 5

Bibire closed his Bible slowly, his shoulders heavy, his face drawn with exhaustion. He looked worn—both in body and in spirit. Dropping to his knees, he began to mutter inaudible words. Though barely whispered, they carried the weight of the burden in his heart.

The war had taken so much from the Vessels. Each passing day seemed more distressing than the one before. Every gain in their strategy had come at a terrible cost, the momentum built only through sacrifices they could hardly afford. With the country’s elections fast approaching, the deaths among their ranks had surged alarmingly.

The Vessels were divided into two groups—the Missionary Vessels and the War Vessels. It was Araolodumare’s plan that His Missionary Vessels would take the front line, proclaiming His coming to the entire world. It was no easy calling. Their work brought tribulation, suffering, unexplainable pain, and death. Above all, it demanded a steadfast heart, for faint-heartedness was the easiest road to failure.

Somehow, the greatest joy they knew was to be martyred as a Vessel of Araolodumare—whether as a repentant soul who had seen the light or as one of His chosen from the beginning.

The War Vessels were different. Personally marked by Araolodumare, they were not only destined to wage the final battle against MEFA but also gifted with superhuman abilities—strength beyond mortal limits, senses sharpened to unnatural precision, and the power to wield forces that defied the natural order. Their mark was both a blessing and a curse: a sign of divine empowerment, yet a target that made them the prime enemies of MEFA. This final war was a stepping stone to Araolodumare’s greater goal.

That month alone, more than five hundred Vessels had been slaughtered in a single mass shooting.

“Bàbá wa tí ń bẹ ní ọ̀run,” Bibire whispered, slowly pushing himself to his feet.

×××

Okun, a high-ranking member of MEFA, had recently announced his intention to run for the presidency. The public welcomed the news. Known as a philanthropist, he had paid the school fees of countless children, sponsored start-ups, funded struggling entrepreneurs, and championed himself as a man of the people. His reputation gleamed—generous, successful, and benevolent.

Standing before the massive mirror in his bedroom, Okun stood barefoot in the center of a pentagram he had drawn. As he chanted ancient words, his soul slipped free from his body. In an instant, the room faded, replaced by a vast circle of towering hedge-stones.

“Welcome, Okun,” a soothing voice said.

He only nodded, his expression calm, listening in silence.

“We have set the powers in place to ensure your victory,” the voice continued. “Though our influence stretches far beyond the world of wealth and affluence, we cannot underestimate the Vessels of our greatest enemy. Over the years, we have raised the narrative that the Vessels cannot touch a ‘dirty’ career like politics or personal enrichment. Many have swallowed the lie and now serve us faithfully. Still, we must tread carefully. Every key position required to make you president has already been compromised by us. Once you are there, we shall give you the policies to enforce, the rules to impose.”

Okun remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the unseen speaker.

“Soon,” the voice promised, “you will reveal what you truly are.”

×××

Weeks later…

Bibire had fallen asleep on his knees, mid-prayer. In his slumber, he was drawn into a trance, standing before Araolodumare Himself. The encounter left him with a task—demanding, daunting, one that would test the very limits of his will and resolve.

When he awoke, he placed his right hand against his forehead. He could feel the marking there—the one given to him and all War Vessels. It was a seal of divine power, granting them abilities beyond human measure. And yet, it was also a death sentence. This mark could never be hidden; it was an open target for MEFA, branding him for destruction.

“I understand these things must happen,” Bibire said quietly. “And I am honored to be the forerunner.”

He glanced at his phone, frowning. “I can barely access my savings because of these hostile policies. But I trust in the One who sent me.”


---

Chapter 4: A Mind Above the Storm (Araolodumare’s POV)

He stood where no mortal had ever stood, above the clouds, beyond time. The wind that kissed his brow was not of this world. It carried no scent of dust or blood, only the weight of what was to come.

Araolodumare watched.

From this silent place, Lagos was a restless body beneath him—shimmering, sweating, sinning. Its heartbeat was chaos wrapped in concrete. Lights blinked like nervous eyes. Beneath them, men played gods, gods hid like men, and ancient bloodlines stirred again.

His gaze drifted.

He had seen the church in Surulere crumble. Not the building—the spirit. He had watched as the prophetess, worn and weary, dragged her soul across broken tiles to cry for help no one believed would come. She had felt it: the silence of the heavens. The cold shoulder of the throne.

He remembered the moment the crowd in Yaba screamed when the statue of Ogun wept blood and cracked down the middle. No one spoke of it openly, but in dark corners of the internet, whispers called it a crack in the divine order.

And he remembered the Vessel—the boy in Oshodi. Afraid, confused, marked. Araolodumare had not touched him directly, but the seal was familiar. The Creator still planted seeds when the soil was right. That boy would soon become something more.

He closed his eyes and saw further.

The Nephilim. They walked freely now, dressed in democracy and diplomacy. Children of fallen gods, born in secret unions. They had taken positions of influence, sitting in high councils, funding research, drafting laws to chain the spiritual. Project One, now called MEFA, was their sigil of rebellion—a strategy to subdue the rise of Vessels before it began.

What the world called “progress” was a noose tightening.

But Araolodumare was not afraid. He had walked through fire before fire knew its name. He had shattered thrones older than the oceans. Still, he waited—not for strength, but for obedience. The time had to be right.

Because he knew something they didn’t:

The gods were weakening. Not just in form—but in essence. Their worship was dwindling. Their names faded from the lips of men, replaced with hashtags and currencies. And though they tried to preserve their legacy through bloodlines, through Nephilim, through MEFA—they had already lost the favor of heaven.

Araolodumare opened his eyes.

Below, Lagos still pulsed like a wounded beast. But soon, it would roar.

Soon, the world would remember that there is One above all. Not a god made in man’s image. Not a power confined to rituals.

But I Am.

And He was coming. Through Vessels. Through fire. Through truth wrapped in flesh.

Araolodumare stepped off the edge of the unseen cliff, descending like smoke, silent and sure.

His war had not begun with blood.

But it would end with thunder.

CHAPTER 3 — Serpents in Divine Clothing

The hall hung suspended in cosmic silence, veiled in darkness, save for streams of starlight that filtered through cracks in the universe. Here, time did not flow — it waited. The gods, or what was left of them, sat around a black obsidian table, shoulders heavy with the burden of eternity.

Sango broke the silence first, his voice rough, like thunder threatening behind clouds.

“So… what do we do?”

Oya’s reply came quickly, the fear in her tone unusual, even for her.

“Nothing,” she whispered. “We do nothing.”

She glanced about the circle, her eyes darting like a hunted animal’s.

“For all we know,” she continued, “he could walk in here and unmake us.”

No one questioned who she meant.

There were no echoes in this place, no walls — just vastness. The kind of vastness that remembered creation and betrayal.

“We know our history,” Ogun said, his arms folded, voice low like forged iron. “Even though we were cast out, we made these humans too advanced. We poured into them warcraft, metallurgy, structure, ambition… not for their sake, but for ours. To be gods over them.”

Osun shifted uneasily. “We used what Olodumare gave us — his breath, his light — to steal their worship. We dressed ourselves in glory and answered prayers never meant for us.”

There was shame in her voice. But not regret.

“We’re not the only ones,” Sango added. “Greek, Norse, Egyptian… even the demons have cults now. We were never alone in this game.”

“Then maybe we should think like them,” Ogun murmured. “Every pantheon is under attack. That means he’s not just coming for us — he’s coming for all.”

A sudden flicker — a presence — and Esu emerged from the shadows like a whisper gaining voice. He didn’t sit. He never did.

“If you think he’s coming for all,” Esu said, smiling, “then you’ve forgotten his real target.”

He tossed a small orb into the air. It shimmered with ancient light before disappearing into nothing.

“He’s after the Morning Star. Irawo Òwúró. Our leader. The first rebel. The one who led us down.”

The name lingered in the air like poison.

“Let him have the star,” Sango growled. “What about us?”

Esu’s smile widened. “He doesn’t need to kill us. He only needs to undo our work. Little by little. Vessels. Prophets. Underground revival. Preachers who won’t shut up. He’s setting fire to everything we’ve built.”

“And if that’s his plan,” he continued, “then we make our move first. A counter. One final push to stain humanity permanently.”

“And how do we do that?” Osun asked, wary.

“We give them something divine,” Esu said, eyes gleaming. “Just not holy. We spread our seed — literally. Seduce them. Mix our blood. Create hybrids. Offspring of divinity and corruption. Children of our rebellion.”

He stepped back, arms open.

“Let the Vessels speak of love and light… but the world listens to power.”

There was silence.

Then, one by one, they nodded.

They called it Project One — not just a military effort, but a spiritual infestation. A rise of bloodlines meant to outlast sermons.


---

Present Day — Lagos, Nigeria

The street glared with headlights and neon signs. The city was always alive, always burning.

On a small screen inside a roadside bar, the news played in low volume, lost beneath the noise of generators.

> “TWO DETAINED FOR REFUSING TO RENOUNCE THEIR FAITH…”

“The suspects, known as Vessels, are believed to be part of an underground movement linked to a growing wave of unexplained miracles. Authorities are calling it a threat to public order…”



A patron shook his head, took a swig of beer, and muttered, “They no dey tire?”

The screen cut to a government broadcast.

> “PROJECT ONE: Initiated under national security clause. Strategic development of enhanced humans for the greater future of the Republic…”



No explanations. No definitions. Just a name and a promise.


---

Inside a quiet apartment on the island, an older man turned off his TV and stood up slowly. He was tall, with a faded scar beneath his eye and calloused hands that had held too many grieving strangers.

He parted the curtains, letting the golden light of sundown spill across the floor.

Behind him, others waited — younger, restless, scarred by faith.

“It is time,” the old man said. “We were never chosen because we were righteous. We were chosen because we were broken.”

The room grew still.

“The old foot soldiers have finished their part. They prayed when it was hard. They fasted when it was dangerous. They carried the Word when it was mocked. But now the age of Vessels begins. And we will not run.”


---

Elsewhere — Beneath the City

Steel corridors. Lights flickering above surgical tables. A cold hum in the walls. This was no hospital.

It was a forge.

In the central chamber stood a man in a jet-black suit, sharp jawline, golden irises that pulsed like stars on fire. Around him, dozens stood — men and women — all marked by the blood of something no longer human.

Children of gods.

He addressed them like a father, or perhaps a priest.

“We are the children of divinity and man. Born of rebellion. Bred for dominion.”

The screen behind him blinked to life:
PROJECT ONE — PHASE TWO: GLOBAL ASCENSION

He raised a hand.

“They call themselves Vessels. They hide in slums, quote scripture, and pray to a silent sky. But the world has no time for meekness. The world wants gods that answer quickly.”

A low murmur of agreement followed.

“We will rise not in temples, but in institutions. In politics. In corporations. We will write their laws and own their weapons. We will create a heaven of our own — and make them beg to enter.”

A woman stepped forward — her arms covered in glowing symbols, her eyes hollow with conviction.

“Shall we begin?”

“Yes,” he said. “Awaken them all. The seeds of our fathers are everywhere — in schools, in armies, even in pulpits. The blood cannot be hidden anymore. Every Nephilim must rise. Every last one.”
Later That Night — Lagos Mainland

The sky groaned with thunder.

A small building exploded — no fire, no smoke. Just silence. The kind of silence that kills.

Inside, where once there had been singing, only rubble remained. Blood on the wall. Bibles turned to ash.

A man walked through the destruction, slow, calm, untouched.

Half-man. Half-god.

Nephilim.

On his chest, a sigil burned bright:
MEFA

He knelt beside the body of a fallen Vessel. The man was still breathing, barely.

“You prayed,” the Nephilim said softly. “But your God did not come.”

He stood, raising his hand.

“And ours never left.”

Darkness surged.

The Vessel gasped.

Then — nothing.

The war had begun.

Chapter 2: The Lord of Masquerades

Egungun, the Lord of Masquerades, stood tall in the center of his domain, dressed in the heavy regalia of his ancient office. His body was draped in layers of colorful cloth, beads that glinted with ancient power, and masks that shimmered with the faces of his many identities. Around him, the Banta drums began to beat, loud and relentless. They echoed through the void, a deep, resonant pulse that seemed to vibrate the very air.

With each beat, Egungun’s movements grew more frantic. He twisted, bent, and swayed in time with the rhythm, his body flowing like liquid, alive with the energy of the drums. Occasionally, he would leap into the air, his feet striking the earth with such force that mini quakes trembled beneath him, leaving craters where he landed. His dance was a ritual—one that tapped into the power of his worshippers on Earth, who celebrated in his name and made sacrifices in his honor.

The power flowed through him, and as his body grew hot with the glory of his followers, his eyes began to glow a fiery red. A faint, transparent red aura began to shimmer around him, a visible sign of the divine energy he was receiving from the humans who believed in him.

But as the last echo of the drums faded, so did his dance. The energy that once surged through him dissipated, and he came to a slow stop. The domain fell silent, save for the soft drip of water that filled the space around him. Egungun stood there for a moment, basking in his false glory, and then his laughter erupted, deep and echoing.

"You are chasing a lost cause, Eledumare," he said, his voice booming through the space. He paused, eyes narrowing as he looked around at the void. "Look at them." He waved a hand through the air, gesturing as if to the very fabric of reality itself. "I am Egungun. I come in various spectrums and realities to countless groups of people, tribes, and ethnicities. I am the god of festivity, the embodiment of celebration and joy."

With a flick of his wrist, Egungun’s form morphed. His massive, regal body shrank and twisted into the form of a dwarf-sized masquerade, and he began to hop about, leaping through the air in exaggerated, acrobatic jumps, his movements as chaotic as the rhythm of the drums had once been.

"I am the essence of festivals," he said, his voice now taking on a mocking tone as he flipped effortlessly from one form to another. In a blink, he became a human figure, draped in a brightly colored ofi, heavy beads clinking around his neck. "I am the one who brings joy to the hearts of men! How many of us will you kill, Araolodumare? How many gods will you trample beneath your feet?"

He sneered, his gaze defiant as he spoke to the empty air. "I will never die. How many of my personalities will you fight against? I exist in the hearts of your creations. They make me real, they give me this glory. How will you kill an idea, Araolodumare? How will you erase me when they willingly bring me into being, when they sacrifice for me and dance in my name?"

Egungun laughed again, his grin widening like a maniacal grin that echoed through the void. "You are above us, yes," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. "But your hands are tied. You cannot touch what lives in the hearts of your creations."

For a moment, there was silence. The sound of water trickling through Egungun's domain became the only noise, a soft trickle that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. And then, the voice of Araolodumare echoed, as if from nowhere and everywhere at once.

"I have a place for you all," Araolodumare’s voice resonated through the space like thunder, though his form was nowhere to be seen. "It’s true that you may be erased from existence, but I am always a step ahead of you. You’re not as clever as you think."

Egungun’s heart skipped a beat. His body tensed as the voice echoed in his mind. His gaze whipped around, but there was no one to be seen. "No... no..." he murmured under his breath. The blood drained from his face.

And then, as if the universe itself had collapsed around him, a punch landed on his face with the force of a thousand storms. It sent Egungun crashing to the ground, his body bouncing off the earth with terrifying power. For a moment, he lay there, stunned, his mind struggling to comprehend the sudden attack. He scrambled to his feet, his mask askew and his regalia in tatters.

"After I am done with you, as a message to the fallen idols," Araolodumare said, his voice now right behind him, "I will descend to Earth and raise my armies. My work here is short, but I must set an example. You will be the stepping stone to my greater goal."

Egungun wiped the blood from his lips and straightened his mask, his hands trembling. "You will bring an end to this world. We will partake in the great war. Why are you so concerned with our dealings, Araolodumare?"

Araolodumare’s form materialized behind him again, a presence looming large in the void. "Because I love my creations," he said, his voice calm but filled with a terrible, quiet authority. "What father doesn’t?"

Suddenly, without warning, Araolodumare’s voice rang out, harsh and commanding.

"Kneel."

Egungun’s body froze, and without a second thought, he dove forward, positioning himself face-first into the dirt, his pride shattered. He tried to hold onto the last shred of defiance, even as the weight of Araolodumare’s words crushed him. "I have my pride to protect, Araolodumare, and—"

Araolodumare’s voice cut him off, cold and cutting. "You principalities and powers were all created for my amusement. You do as you are commanded."

"I don’t agree with that," Egungun growled, raising his hand to summon a cane from the ether. Two canes, formed of blackened wood and crackling energy, appeared in his hands. He swung them with furious intent. "Come forth, canes of torment!"

Before Egungun could even blink, Araolodumare was there—behind him once more. His back pressed against Egungun’s. The god of masquerades froze in confusion, unable to move.

"Your courage is of no importance to me," Araolodumare said softly, almost pityingly.

Egungun coughed up blood, his vision blurring as confusion set in. "What... what have you done to me?" he gasped, feeling his insides twist with the force of Araolodumare’s presence.

"You split me in half..." Egungun’s voice trailed off in disbelief as his body began to unravel like fraying thread. His upper body slid off, a clean, surgical cut down the center, while his lower half gushed blood. The blood splattered across the ground, turning the entire domain a deep crimson.

As his life force drained away, Egungun’s face twisted in fear. "I need vessels," Araolodumare muttered, watching the god unravel. "But how long will it take this to transverse the realms? Half a thousand years, I suppose."

With those words, the Lord of Masquerades was no more. His blood stained the ground, and his once-glorious domain turned to ash.

NIGHTMARE OF THE GODS

A Limelight Animation Works Original
Weekly Novel Series | Animation in Progress
🕒 New episodes every Saturday at 5PM


---

SYNOPSIS

Before humanity’s first breath, before the first drumbeat of civilization — they fell.

Not from the sky like fire.
Not with chains or thunder.
But with masks… and crowns.

They came not as invaders, but as gods.
God of thunder. God of war. God of beauty. God of harvest. God of death.
And the like.

These were no deities.
They were exiles — remnants of a rebellion older than man’s bones.
But the people, in their wonder, offered worship.
And in return, the gods demanded blood.

Yet the true Creator did not stay silent.

He did not send angels.
He did not send prophets.
He came Himself — in a form both divine and dust.

He came as Araolodumare — “The Body of God.”

He is of God.
He is God.
And yet, He walks as an emissary — clothed in flesh, bearing the full will of the One who formed the stars.

But His arrival does not bring celebration.
The people know who He is.
They’ve heard His name.
They’ve felt the call.

But they reject it.
Not out of ignorance — but out of defiance.
Because His truth exposes their rebellion.
And His way demands a death to their own.

So they cling to the gods they prefer.
The gods that permit anything.
The gods who look the other way.

Sensing their time is short, the false gods do not retreat — they evolve.
They fuse their essence with humankind, and from that corruption come the (Abami): Strange ones, in this case referred to as Nephilim:

Some are cloaked in culture — influencers, kings, celebrities, tech messiahs.

But others... are born of raw, supernatural power.


These are the conquerors.
Titanic beings who roam the Earth like storms:
Seizing cities.
Leveling villages.
Declaring themselves rulers of zones, territories, entire regions.
Some with thunder.
Some with fire.
Some with manipulation so deep, the people cheer their own oppression.

The world is falling into their grip — one district, one heart, one lie at a time.

But Araolodumare does not walk in silence.

He confronts these gods.
He shatters their temples.
And from the ruins, He calls disciples —
Ordinary men and women who awaken to truth and rise as warriors of His essence.

These disciples battle not only in spirit, but in body.
They face Nephilim in the dirt.
In the streets.
In the fields and alleyways.
Steel against bone. Fire against fire.

Every blow is spiritual and physical.
Every clash, a test of truth against corruption.

But beneath even this war — behind gods and Nephilim — hides an older enemy:
An unseen manipulator.
A deceiver who orchestrated the rebellion long before humans ever breathed.
The one who whispered false divinity into the ears of the fallen.
The one still whispering now.

Yet, Araolodumareluwa still walks.

With fire.
With judgment.
With the heartbeat of the Almighty pulsing in every step.

This is not just myth.
This is not just fantasy.
This is a war for the soul of the world — told through action, blood, and revelation.


---

🔥 Expect:

Brutal hand-to-hand action scenes

Intense spiritual and political conflict

A blend of Yoruba mythology with modern-day warfare

Themes of truth, morality, power, and rebellion

The dark rise of celebrity gods, corrupted rulers, and superpowered Nephilim who now rule the Earth


📝 New chapters drop every Saturday at 5PM
📍 Exclusively on Nairaland under the username (Devilpen) & Webnovel (to be updated)
Nairaland link: https://www.nairaland.com/8475138/nightmare-gods

NIGHTMARE OF THE GODS

Written by Olusegun Ayomide Shedrach


---

A thick, unnatural darkness loomed above the land, its presence deeper than night itself. Ash drifted from the sky like snow, soft and silent, but heavy with judgment. The forest, once a sanctuary of nature’s peace, now breathed decay. Its very air choked like a curse—dense enough to suffocate entire armies of men.

But it wasn’t men choking.

It was a god.

Akoogun, the hunter deity, once mighty among the pantheon, now lay sprawled and broken on the scorched ground. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a struggle against the divine blade buried deep in his chest. The sword had pierced through flesh, bone, and spirit—pinning him to the earth like a fallen insect.

Golden blood trickled from his wounds, staining the dirt with a soft glow that dimmed by the second. His face was pale, battered beyond recognition, and his wheezing carried the sound of a god nearing the edge of death.

The forest around him burned—not wildly, but with a steady, ominous blaze. The fire cast an amber glow through the trees, but still, the dark refused to be displaced. Even flame obeyed the command of the presence that stood above Akoogun.

Araolodumare.

He towered over the fallen god, his expression unreadable—somewhere between righteous fury and cosmic exhaustion. The air around him rippled with celestial authority, and when he finally spoke, his voice seemed to echo not just in the forest, but in the bones of existence itself.

“Tell me, fallen angel,” Araolodumare said, his gaze locked onto Akoogun’s fading one. “How do you plan to atone for your sins?”

Then, with chilling disdain, he leaned forward and spat in Akoogun’s face.

Akoogun coughed, blood trickling from his lips, his voice barely audible.
“So... what now?” he asked. “What comes after me?”

Araolodumare didn’t hesitate. “Osumare is next.”

There was a conviction in his tone that chilled even the flames.

“I am a vessel,” he continued, “carved from the body of Olodumare. And I am tired—tired of your blasphemies... your centuries of stealing glory meant for the Almighty.”

His voice hardened with each word, like hammer against anvil.

“You’ve led mankind astray. Slowly at first, then quickly—until the world you claimed to protect stands on the brink of annihilation. Their faith grows cold. Their belief in me... in Him... fades with every passing generation.”

Araolodumare pressed his foot against the hilt of the sword, driving it deeper into Akoogun’s chest. The hunter god winced, divine light flickering in his eyes.

“When a third of you rebelled, I did not expect atonement...”

Akoogun gasped. “You gave them free will,” he hissed, his voice trembling. “They are to blame... not us.”

That was his final mistake.

Without hesitation, Araolodumare brought his heel down, smashing Akoogun’s skull into the ground with divine force. Bone shattered. The light in Akoogun’s eyes went out.

A long silence followed. Then, Araolodumare exhaled, calm once more.

“Do not interrupt me when I speak,” he said softly. “My words are absolute.”

He lifted his head to the burning sky, where no stars shone.

“This body was meant to honor God,” he said, “to rule over the earth and live in eternity. But look at it now—bloated with pride, anger, lust... inhabited by weakness. This flesh is unholy. Ineffective. But it is the only tool I have.”

His voice dropped to a whisper, as though speaking to someone far beyond the veil.

“I can feel your presence. And you should know—I will come for you. When I do, I’ll make myself known. I will put you beneath me.”

He turned his back to Akoogun’s ruined corpse and looked toward the distant world beyond the flames.

“But first... I need vessels,” he murmured. “Souls who can redirect the steps of the Obas—men who can lead the kings of the earth back into the light.”

The ash continued to fall.
The forest burned.
And Araolodumare walked away, into the smoke.


---

New Episodes every weekends. It enables us to have a longer episodes per week.
Also, this series is also in development for an animation. I've shared some portions of the storyboard below.
Thank you for your continual support and once again, let's have a wonderful journey together
.

You can find our animated shorts on my IG @ limelight_animation

198800Mam:
Update please it's over 3years at @devilpen hope you are good

wow. Three years goes by so fast, I logged into today to see what series I and my team can turn into an animated series, and I saw your comment
I am doing great, hope you're fine also.

Sneak peak into the first issue.

IRON SANCTUARY:

Iron Sanctuary

Iron Sanctaury

Finally the pilot page for Iron Sanctuary will be available for read and as a big fan of Nairaland that I am.
I will be dropping the comics here for read.
Iron SANCTUARY is a comic that I will be releasing each Comic Issues / Episodes every 2 weeks and sometimes it will take a little longer than 2 weeks.
But either way, I'm taking everyone on a crazy ride with this comic.

It comes in in a few hours from now.
Remember to hit that follow button.

.

Hey!!!!!!!! Helloooo.
I'm kind of back?
I have time now for myself. A little bit rough.
Big news
Iron Sanctuary is getting a comic that will updated every 12 days.
The story in the comic dives into a darker part of the Sanctuary.
I hope you support by engaging.

Hey!!!!!!!! Helloooo.
I'm kind of back?
I have time now for myself. A little bit rough.
Big news
Iron Sanctuary is getting a comic that will updated every 12 days.
The story in the comic dives into a darker part of the Sanctuary.
I hope you support by engaging.

Hey!!!!!!!! Helloooo.
I'm kind of back?
I have time now for myself. A little bit rough.
Big news
Iron Sanctuary is getting a comic that will updated every 12 days.
The story in the comic dives into a darker part of the Sanctuary.
I hope you support by engaging.

Episode 10
Trillion slammed his body hard against the policeman which sent him crashing hard to the ground, creating a massive impact that generated a sonic boom which brought nearby houses crashing to the ground.
"He hits like a murderer" the Policeman said and stood up.
He looked at Trillion and had a smile on the corner of his lips and flew towards him and sent a punch at him. Effortlessly, Trillion grabbed the incoming fist and banged his head against his opponent, not letting go of his hand. Trillion smirked and placed his free hand on the stomach of the Policeman and generated a massive shock wave that forcefully shot the policeman off into the distance.
The policeman crashed into an apartment and let out a loud painful scream, clinching tight to to his stomach. It was evident he had broken ribs from the impact.
Trillion landed standing above him and got ready to hit him with all he got, and suddenly the policeman forced his way off and disappeared into the distance.
"You definitely had no option"
***
***
Tommy handed Trillion a cup of warm tea and watched him closely as he drank, while her father was leaving on the wall patiently waiting for him to finish up.
"What's next?" He asked as soon as Trillion lowered the cup.
"I honestly dont know" Trillion replied "I dont know his motive, but all I know is he doesnt want me on earth, looks like I might be threat to something he is doing, and I really need answers" Trillion said and sighed.
"I'm certain it's very complicated" Tommy's father said and continued "Cant you find out from other gods, they should be aware as to what he is up to and what he had been doing"
"I have no way of communicating with them, either I like it or not, I'm practically on my own" Tommy said
"OR NOT" a voice sounded in his head.
Tommy froze for few seconds and looked at the faces of the people in the room.
"I think someone is willing to help, I will be back" he said and flew out of the window in the room.

Episode 9
Strong Man Detective
Trllion got himself a bottle of water from the refrigerator and walked towards the kitchen shelf to rest his elbow on while he drank from the bottle. He tried recollecting what had happened earlier in the day, for some reasons he couldn't remember what happened all he could remember was seeing himself in police custody.
"That strange man" he muttered and gulped water from the bottle and sighed.
"He knows my status as an ex god" he thought and stood upright.
Trillion returned to the sitting room and switched on the television, and scoffed at the news headline that appeared.
"At any rate, that police man is bad news and there are strange things about him, if that busy body journalist didnt go beyound her boundaries, if she didnt poke into what doesnt concerns her. Just maybe, she'll would still be alive " Trillion said and stared at his hands.
"She is alive, barely"
The voice sent chills down Trillion's spine, in an instance his eyes flashed red and suddenly he crashed out into the open through the rooftop of his apartment, while he sent barrage of punches at his unknown opponent.
"Is that how you welcome a visitor,especially a family?"
"Policeman" Trillion muttered.
The both of them could be seen in midair, and soon enough they had gotten the attention of people living in the Estate.
"Family, what family?" Trillion asked.
The Policeman looked puzzled and placed his right hand on his face, giving himself a face slap.
"What have you been doing on the other end of the world?"
Trillion was beginning to get impatient
"Didnt you go through the education system, weren't you thought Gods that emerged within the same 3 decades are regarded as families and share a bond?" The policeman asked.
"And where the hell have you been not to realize, the whole system in that realm was abolished and since humans saw them as high figures they began to have pride and owning lands and kingdoms to themselves, everyone in my decade was murdered except for me" Trillion shouted.
"That happened?"
"Man, where the hell have you been for over a thousand year? Even the outcast who are stripped of their entire god title knows these basic details" Trillion said and but his lower lips.
"It doesnt matter" the policeman said "You have to end your god entitlement here and I'll be stripping you off your powers"
"Joker, I just met you not up to an hour and you're spitting trash, you dont even know basic details about the other realm and this is what you have to say?" Trillion said and flared up his eyes.
"Ohhh, that is some flashy God thingy" the policeman said and in an instant he was right in front of Trillion.
"You are no match for me" he said with a devious tone and grabbed Trillion by the face.

Hiiiiiiiii....
I've been away for a very long while. Let me run you run through what has been up since the past few months.
I have been diligently making my art skills and animation skills better, just to give everyone a much more enjoyable entertainment.

Also have been running crazy number of commissions that has literally kept me locked and not having enough time to develop my stories and comic.

But the bright side is, there is always time for what you love.

Yeah, there have been lots of ups and downs and sometimes I just want to watch everything fade away and just move into darkness where nothing matters.

But, errrr, here I am.

I am actually happy with the progress so far and to finally tell you that, this story is being finally adapted into a comic.

Why you should be hyped too.
1. You get to see those action scene in HD (if I say so)
2. You get to see more dynamics to the characters and have a better view at their characteristics.
3. They are added dialogues and more obvious character development.

I'll constantly update this as the comic proceeds and finally get to announce the release date.

Yup, that's all for now.

Chapter 3
What Master Do You Serve?
"What you look for is not here" Esu said as soon as Fikayo entered into his realm.
Feeling overwhelmed, Fikayo began to breath heavily, every cell in his body was against his visit to hell. He knew what was happening but he was there already and if he didnt get a satisfactory response, he was leaving.
"I know how you feel, that power is a complete opposite of what is here" Esu said and smiled.
Seated on an almost infinite throne that reach up to the red fury clouds of hell. The throne was completely made of human bones that seemed to be alive and in anguish.
"Esu" Fikayo said.
"Isnt it funny, how you all have seen Esu who is the god of mischief as the ring leader of hell, funny isnt it, especially Yorubas"
"I'm not here for talks" Fikayo said and grit his teeth.
"Calm down, learning a bit of history wont hurt will it?" The demon said and smiled "You see, yorubas needed something to qualify evil then choose Esu, only if they knew Esu was not anything close to a demon, but rather a god worthy of worship"
Fikayo began to run out of patience and his body was beginning to move involuntarily out of hell.
"You see, Lucifer is very different from Esu, but do you know why there is the misconception that Esu is Lucifer?"
"Where are my children!" Fikayo screamed
"Blah blah blah, you serve Eledumare the main anchor of Orun, who commands Obatala the source of your power and you think of all places, your children will be in hell? What kind of faith do you have?" The demon asked. "Even I still has Lucifer as my commander, but because he is forever chained in Jedecca until the end of the world, I am in charge, for now, until we have a proper meeting, you can call me Demon Head" Demon Head said and stood up.
"Now leave my realm"
***
***
Fikayo opened the door to the living room of his house and was surprised to see his wife, moving around, she looked so healthy no one would have believed she had a rough time and was in coma, she looked so healthy and had gained weight, and her beauty had returned and she looked even better.
"Babe" Fikayo said surprised and ran to hug her.
"I dont know how it happened, but I think I had a dream" she said still hugging her husband. She took a deep breath and continued "A man dressed in casual attire, very tall and huge, walked into my room and offered me a cup of water, said his name was Babalu-Aye, he had his finger in the cup and offered me to drink and when I opened my eyes I could walk and I was completely fine"
Fikayo couldn't hold back his tears. He let them all out like a child who spilled his milk.
"It isnt real right?" His wife asked and broke the hug, staring at Fikayo with a mesmerizing look.
"It was" Fikayo said and took few steps back "I dont know how to explain but" he said and took a deep breath.
Fikayo slowly began to elevate into the air, and slowly lightning began to emerge out of his eyes, then moved to his hands, his skin turned bright blue, and the lightning bolt could be seen running through his vein and channeling through his entire body.
While all these happened, Mirace began to shiver, her body could no longer keep up with the thrill and fear that ran through her body.
***
***
"What master did you serve? What did you do to become this?" Miracle asked her husband, while they were both in the kitchen making dinner.
Fikayo took his time to explain everything to her and how he had attempted to get their children back and figured they were in a better place and they had to move on.
"Hmmm, so what now?"
"I dont know"
"But I do know" Miracle said seductively and got closer to her husband who didnt hesitate in placing his hands around her waist and pulled her closer.
"The powers are for you to protect people, you know like every other heroes in this country, they cant be at everywhere at the same time, which means this city is yours to protect and from what you told me, you are meant to be a leader, you know, lead the whole solo heroes in this city" Miracle said
"That is too much of a burden" Fikayo replied
"For the legacy of our children, that aside, he who has and doesnt do is a coward, you always say that" Miracle said and learned in for a kiss.
"Hmmm" Fikayo muttered and broke the kiss "I dont know where to start from"
"First, we get you a job, I still have few strings that could land you a job that still gives you time to do the hero thingy" Miracle said and placed her right palm on Fikayo's face "I love you"
"Love you more"

Chapter 2
Selfish Desires
Miracle managed to put on a weak smile, while on the bed as soon as she saw her husband walk into the room. She tried as much as she can to be vocal, somehow she found it impossible.
"I love you too" Fikayo said calmly and sat down next to her.
He reached for her left hand and fondled it tenderly. He took a deep sigh and uncontrollable tears dropped down his eyes. His emotion was torn between being sad and being happy. It was good news his wife was having a steady recovery, and they could fall back and depend on his wife savings until everything gets back to normal. Then there was the other side of his emotion which was grieving his children and every other things he had lost.
There was a long silence, Fikayo trying to figure out the next step to take, where their lives go from here and how he was going to get their life back on track. He looked at his beloved wife and he was moved.
"It only gets better" he said and gently wiped off the tears on her face.
***
***
Fikayo walked into one of the rooms in the house and shut the door behind him. He took a deep sigh, forced spit down his throat and rubbed his palms together.
"How does this power work?" He asked himself.
Fikayo sat on the floor, and took a meditation pose, hoping it works out, although he didnt know what to expect, all he was doing was all based on instinct.
He closed his eyes and tried shutting every thought out of his head, and soon he could feel changes on his environment.
"I see the gods has found someone else to place this burden disguise as power on" a masculine voice said.
He opened his eyes and saw a younger man leaning by the window.
"You called me" the man said and stood right.
"You must be.."
"The last holder of that power in you"
"Remi" Fikayo said and stood up "I have a lot to ask, but first, does this power bring people back from the dead?" Fikayo asked.
"And what do you intend? All you should be thinking about is how to get rid of that power"
"Tch. It is an embodiment of pain" Remi replied
"But according to history, this power liberated your village from Esu and other invaders, your village became the starting point of ancient and modern civilization " Fikayo responded.
"Experience will make you understand. Who do you intend of bringing back from the dead?"
"My children" Fikayo replied
Remi sighed. He could tell Fikayo's mind was fixed on doing what he wanted. This power came with a very strong will and determination, until you achieve what you wanted you wouldn't be at rest.
"This power comes with a price. Resurrection is not what I've done, although possible. It comes with a price" Remi answered.
"I'm ready to pay anything"
"Then, your enemy expects you, pay him a visit in hell, you have the power to open portals to worlds, I'm out, I wont be seeing you in a very long time" Remi said and vanished.

Legend of the Human God: Legacy Transfer

Written by: Ayomide Shedrach (Devilpen)

Introduction.
Scene: Complete darkness
"Unfortunately, he died without an heir to inherit his power, the promise of the gods eventually came to an end, not because they went back on their promise, but because Remi died without an heir to inherit his power.
How does someone immortal dies?
Do anyone of you realizes the trauma that comes with immortality? Sure, you can achieve all you want, you can become whatever, get whatever and think you have a fulfilling life. But underneath, it's a life filled with traumas and pains.
Your loved ones dying right before you, outliving every of your generations, witnessing wars, deaths. It's a lot more pains than can be explained.
He didnt want this for any of his offspring, so he took the toughest decision. Even with his unending powers, he knew the world would never fall short of protectors. As to how he died, it's a story covered in mystery. WE WILL GET THERE.
The transfer of power started from EMI, to Ireti and to Remi (who had a deep sleep, and woke up to civilization).
Somethings just cant be undone, thus the search for a new power wielder began.








Chapter 1:
My Burden
Man 1: "Let him be, he is not in a good mood"
Man 2: "I could at least try to cheer him up, he has struggled so much"
Man 1: "Leave him, at this point it will out break him, his burden is more than him, his story from grace to grass. Imagine graduating from an Ivy League School, got a good job with crazy figures, then two weeks into that, you lost your parents, still mourning and planning the burial, your twin daughter fell sick and died same day, your wife went into a shock and has been in coma for three years, you got fired, you the discovered all the properties owned by your parents were used as collateral and the little that was left was claimed by government"
Man 2: "If suffering needed a home, he is the right person to stay with"
Man 1: "Truth be told, I dont want him staying here with us, one of these days his bad luck will come for us"
Man 2: "Hmmm, for someone who is going through a whole lot, he still looks good, no one would ever know he is suffering"
Fikayo, a well built man in his late 20's slowly raised his head up and stared at his room mates who were obviously talking about him and took a deep sigh. He ran his right fingers through his red tinted hair and stood up, grabbed his sweater and hung it around his shoulder as he walked out of the room.
Walking down the busy road, with his eyes looking lifeless, and very unaware of his surrounding, his attention was slowly drawn to the little girl that held tight to the hem of his shirt with her right hand and her left hand stretch out
"Brother give me money, I dey hungry" the girl said staring at Fikayo.
Not thinking much about it, Fikayo dipped his hand into his pocket and brought out the last five hundred naira note with him and handed it over to the very skinny girl, who immediately had a bright smile on her face. She grabbed the money and dashed off, shouting at the top of her voice
"Thank you brother" she shouted as she disappeared into the distance.
"Today is my last day on earth anyways" Fiakyo said and had a smile on his face.
Fikayo sighed and resumed his aimless walking and all of a sudden, he felt light headed and fell to the ground.

"You're awake" a shooting feminine voice said
Still trying to adjust his eyes to the light that filled the room, Fikayo spoke
"Did I die? That would have been a good option " he muttered
"Yes, you died and reborn a new man, reborn a demi god" the lady said
For a split second, Fikayo felt a massive energy flow though his body, somehow he felt renewed.
"Stand up, there is a lot of catching up to do, and your wife is to be discharged today"
Fikayo heard the last words and suddenly sat up on the bed, it was then the whole scene was clear to him.
Sitting on the well furnished cushion was a lady who he could tell was about 9 feet tall, well structured legs, her jaw lines were so perfect, it was the best he had ever come across. She smiled brightly at him, the bracelet on her hands felt like they had life in them, he could tell. Her braids fitted so well, it would take an expert to make them with an infinite level of patient.
"Hello Fikayo" she said, this time her voice had a very different tone to it, it was much more intimidating
"What is happening?"
"I'll save you the stress of expaining" she said and snapped her right middle finger and her thumb, which instantly sent Fikayo into a quick trance.
Fikayo collapsed on the bed, breating heavily.
"What you just saw now, is a lifetime of history, lost history"
"Who are you?" Fikayo asked, still trying to catch his breath
"Osoronga, mother of all mothers" she said and stood up "Well that is all, you'll figure out the rest yourself "
"What happened to Remi?" Fikayo asked
"Well, it is not for you to know" she said and had a soft chuckle.
***
***
Fikayo opened his eyes and saw himself in the midst of a large crowd, buckets of water were littered around, it was then he realized he had passed out.
"He don wake, make una give am milk and malt" a man from the crowd shouted.
"Was that all a dream" he thought within himself, while two men helped him to his feet.
He felt that same jolt of energy run through him and he could tell everything was real.

jane00700:
Hi devilpen, I [b]literally enjoyed [/b]every bit of your story. You are just awesome. Please �� do work on the typography errors. And please where can I get more of your stories

Thanks a lot jane00700. I am actually happy you find this interesting. But unfortunately, I stopped writing, so these are pretty much everything I've ever written. I'm making these stories like EMI and the EMI series into an animation and a comic. So it's taking a whole lot of time and dedication, which isnt giving enough time for writing.

Chapter 8
Now the World Knows me.
The whole state was had on its edge. The live broadcast Funmi the overzealous journalist had put across the whole country got mix reactions among the citizens. While some thought her to be mad, other believed in her and couldn't wait for the truth to be revealed.
"Dont you have a ping on her location?" Detective Lucious shouted at the top of his voice while in the Police Tech Department.
"Sir, you are aware of the situation, we dont have the resources for that, we are just hoping what we are doing goes through" a man replied
"And for the fact that the location keeps changing at intervals, we cant pin point" another replied.
Detective Lucious got angry at the replies and stormed out of the room grumbling.
"Everything on this part of the country is poor, light is poor, living is tough, crime rate is high, nothing works" he said and went through the main door of the station.
Trillion returned back to his body and fell hard to the ground, already drained and exhausted. He managed to pull himself up and walked out of the room, moved to the kitchen and helped himself to a glass of water.
As soon as he got relieved he noticed he could not sense Tommy's presence, he cared less, she was old enough to handle herself and before him, she had been loving g quite the harsh life.
A notification came on his phone, he retrieved it and read the news headline on it.
Trillion sighed and shut his eyes tight, he wasn’t bothered if the world knew about his identity, but it could bring out different result, depending on how he handled the situation. But one thing was certain, more powerful people like him would begin to surface and he was sure, the lurking evil would only have a medium to come out of its hiding.
Detective Lucios brought out his phone as soon as he was in his car outside the police building and dialed a number. He waited patiently and as soon the person on the other end answered, he spoke.
“You have information, tell me what you know” he said.
“Who would have thought bad guy Lucios would call an underground crime lord for help, well, you have helped me once, I will return the favour” the person on the other end said.
Lucios listened carefully and hanged up the call.
He took a deep breath and ignited the engine of his car and immediately zoomed off.
Funmi pulled a chair towards her hostage and sat down right in front of her, looking stressed and worked out, all in her head and driven by her overzealousness. She pointed her pistol at Tommy and sighed before speaking.
“Well you see, it will be a honor to lay down my life so everyone knows that demons roam around us” she said and had a short smile on her face.
“Hmmm” Tommy replied and rolled her eyes. “So you just wish to make your parents cry”
“Hmm, parents. Well you see, you can’t lose what you don’t have” she said
A menacing aura took over the warehouse and instantly the environment turned cold. Immediately noticing this, Funmi stood up and turned towards the camera behind her.
“He is here” she said and cocked her gun.
Detective Lucious, got to the warehouse and as soon as he halted his car, he jumped out.
“Where do I start looking from?” he muttered to himself, noticing there were various ware houses in the vicinity.
***
***
“Let her go” Trillion’s voice echoed through the ware house, sending chills down Funmi’s spine.
Even at that, Funmi still stood her ground, she knew at this point there was no going back.
“Just one condition, show your face to the world or you will watch her die” she said and placed the barrel of the pistol, against Tommy’s head. “No matter how fast you are, I still have more than 60 percent chance to pull this trigger”
Everyone watching the broadcast all held tight to their breadth, every single person, unsure about the outcome, or what was going to happen in the next minute.
Trillion suddenly appeared behind Funmi grabbed her by the hand and without thinking about anything, he crushed her hand and the gun all together.
“You will live, but that hand will be useless” he said and watched as Funmi screamed out in pain.
The whole world seeing this, nobody could figure out how Trillion did it that he was next to her, with the blink of an eye. No one could explain it.
Trillion sighed and looked at one of the cameras in the ware house and spoke.
“Helllllooooooooo citizens of doom, I know after this, there are people with super powers who will want to show off and stuffs, the truth is I am less concerned, do your thing, you have the police to protect you, but let me sound this as a warning” he said and took a pause, then looked at Tommy who was still strapped to the chair. “Ohh, you strapped to the chair”
“Cunt, did you just notice?” Tommy barked at him
“Those are strong words, it hurts my soul” he muttered and like wax snapped the chains and broke them into pieces.
“Where was I, arrrgghh Yes, if anybody, comes after me or her, if any news house comes after me or if I find anyone trailing me, I will send you to hell, make una just let me be, now the world knows me” he said and grabbed Tommy and slowly began to levitate and suddenly swooshed off.
The door to the ware house suddenly crashed down.
“Hands down, everyone” Detective Lucious shouted, aimed his gun and took careful steps.



Just checked and noticed Chapter 8 was a thing already, well let's consider this as an alternate episode. And let's get back on track from the previous episode.

Chapter 8
Now the World Knows me.
The whole was had on its edge. The live broadcast Funmi the overzealous journalist had put across the whole country got mix reactions among the citizens. While some thought her to be mad, other beloved in her and couldn't wait for the truth to be revealed.
"Dont you have a ping on her location?" Detective Lucious shouted at the top of his voice while in the Police Tech Department.
"Sir, you are aware of the situation, we dont have the resources for that, we are just hoping what we are doing goes through" a man replied
"And for the fact that the location keeps changing at intervals, we cant pin point" another replied.
Detective Lucious got angry at the replied and stormed out of the room grumbling.
"Everything on this part of the country is poor, light is poor, living is tough, crime rate is high, nothing works" he said and went through the main door of the station.
Trillion returned back to his body and fell hard to the ground, already drained and exhausted. He managed to pull himself up and walked out of the room, moved to the kitchen and helped himself to a glass of water.
As soon as he got relieved he noticed he could not sense Tommy's presence, he cared less, she was old enough to handle herself and before him, she had been loving g quite the harsh life.
A notification came on his phone, he retrieved it and read the news headline on it. He smiled as he walked out of the house, on getting outside, he had a grin on his face and almost with the speed of light, he shot into the sky, leaving cracks on the ground where he had took off from.
***
***
Funmi placed around, excited and at the same time frightened, she knows she was not leaving here unscathed, but it was worth it, she had to prove that demons roamed the face of earth among them. She had to get her journalism dignity back and make people respect her.
The rooftop of the building where Tommy was held captive suddenly crashed open, and next was Trillion standing among the debris he had made while crashing in from the rooftop.
"I told youuuuuuuu all" Funmi shouted at the top of her voice and faced on of the cameras "demons walk among us and I just uncovered that"
Everyone who watched the broadcast was sent into mild shock on seeing how Trillion had crashed in easily and landed.
"Let her go, you have what you want, the world knows extra ordinary people walk among them" Trillion said trying to calm his anger.
"Nah, not so easy, I have questions to ask"
"You are against the law, kidnapping and holding hostages, you know you're going to prison for this" Trillion said
"Like I care" Funmi said.
Trillion tried controlling his anger, he was trying not to burst out, any little action could trigger him and make him make a huge mess. While he was still trying to keep himself calm, a bullet suddenly smashed his head.
Trillion suddenly fell to the ground, which generated a loud reaction for the audience who watched the live broadcast.
"I never told you to shoot!" Funmi shouted out loud.
"It doesnt matter, at least there is one demon less roaming this earth" the person that pulled the trigger said.
"Only if you knew" Tommy said and closed her eyes.
"I was trying to be reasonable" Trillion said as he picked himself up.
"How are you...."
"I'll massacre you all" Trillion said and it was obvious he wasnt himself anymore.
***
***
HERO OR DEMON
Trillion was held in handcuffs as he was lead out front the prison cell he was in and was ushered to the reception
"Funny how you think handcuffs are efficient to keep him secure" a chubby man with full chins and his neck were almost vanishing completely into his main body said and chuckled.
"Who are you? To be clear, you cant force me to know or work for you" Trillion said "I am a god and I have my pride"
"You mean ex god?" The man said and groaned as he stood up, due to his heavy frame.
Without saying more words, Trllion vaished.

Chapter 7
Now the world is about to know me.
Three Weeks Later.
Funmi a lady who had just graduated from Journalism institution and was working as freelance for multip news outlet found herself in her usual spot at the restaurant she regularly visit to clear her head and treat herself to lukewarm tea and some doughs. She pulled out her laptop from her bag and placed on the table. She let out a loud heave as she saw the document that was displayed
"No one is willing to believe my story" She said and tap the track pad of the laptop.
"How is the the only one and his supposed girlfriend that came out alive, unscratched, no miracle happens like this "
" Funmi, would love one more of your favourite?" The attendant asked her.
" Yes, sure" She replied
The attendan unwillingly took a glance at Funmi's laptop and sighed before speaking
"I don't know if this is related but, three weeks ago. I witnessed something strange, it was too fast so I am not sure"
funmi's face brightened and instantly she got interested
" fill me in"
" from the sky, I saw things that looked like shooting stars, hundreds of them, I'm not sure why no media outlet is talking about it"
" Probably no one saw it"
"Like I said, I'm not sure what I saw" The attendant said and walked off to attend to someone else.
"There is only one way to find out" She said to herself.
***
***
Trillion lit the last candle of Seven hundred, he summoned out his axe used the sharp edge to slit his left palm and used the dripping blood to make a circle around him. Soon the blood drips formed a full link and turned white.
The air in the room got thinner and would shake vigorously at intervals
"Sango I summon you" Tri l lion said angrily
The blood turned white let out thunder bolts that struck Trillion hard, but it wasn't enough to move him
"I see, you won't answer my summon, and you locked me out of the god's realm" Trillion said and bit his lips "I'll just force my way through to you"
Trillion eyes turned green and his dragon like soul drifted out of his body.
Tommy got herself ready to go get groceries and some personal necessities. She had thought about Trillion be done with what he was doing, but the thought otherwise and moved out.
As soon as She got to the bus stop, the cab she ordered arrived.
"She is alone" a strange person seated in a van on the other side of the road said on his phone.
" Yes, noted" he replied the person on the other end, and ignited his van.
***
***
Trillion fought his way through the large numbers of ancestral guard that oversaw the illegal route to the god's realm.
"You are not enough to stop me" Trillion shouted as he made a huge energy blast out of his saul, sending the guards off. But the more he fought the stronger the guards got, constantly adjusting to the power of his hits and evolving
"It's of no use, I'm too weak" Trillion said after realising what is happening and without second thought he retreated
***
***
Tommy slowly opened her eyes as soon as the black cloth on her head was pulled
off.
" Where am I?" Tommy asked boldly.
"You will help my career and uncover the truth about your boyfriend, I have been sacked because they think I'm delusional" A feminine figure said. "Turn up the live feed, it's time to let the world know we have demons among us"
" You're going to far b***Ch" Tommy screamed " You don't value your life?"
" No price is greater than this" The lady replied and revealed her face.