The hum of the auto-sorters filled the air as I stacked the last of the inventory logs. I wiped my hands on my work vest and exhaled. For once, I was actually closing early.
My boss, a broad-shouldered man with graying hair and sharp eyes, strolled over. He always had the look of someone unimpressed with the world.
"Williams, you're actually finishing on time today? Miracles do happen."
I smirked, unzipping my vest. "Even I get to have a life, sir."
"Hmph. Just don't come in late tomorrow complaining about headaches and regrets," he muttered, crossing his arms.
"Wouldn't dream of it," I shot back, stuffing my work ID into my pocket.
He studied me for a moment, then gave a curt nod. "Go on, then. And stay out of trouble."
"No promises," I muttered under my breath, stepping out into the neon-lit streets.
The night air was thick with the scent of street food and rain-soaked pavement. I took a moment to stretch, rolling my shoulders as the city noise washed over me. Pulling out my comm device, I hesitated before messaging Mom.Better to check in now before she started worrying.
Me: Closing early. Heading out for a bit.
Her response came almost instantly.
Mom: Somewhere important, I hope?
I smiled to myself. Me: Just a gathering. Nothing wild.
Mom: You? Wild? That would be the day.
Me: Hey, I can be unpredictable.
Mom: Mmm-hmm. Just be careful, Liam. Things are… different these days.
My fingers hovered over the screen. I knew what she meant. I could feel it too—an unease in the air, like the city itself was holding its breath.
Me: I always am.
She didn't reply, but I knew she'd be waiting up. She always did.
Tucking the device away, I started walking, the glowing skyline of Neo-Nija stretching ahead of me. The party was waiting.
. . . . . . . .
I leaned against the smooth curve of the pod station, watching the city's electric veins pulse beneath the transparent platform. Neo-Nija never slept—holo-ads flickered overhead, transport pods glided past in sleek silence, and the ever-present hum of the city filled the air.
I spotted Steven first—tall, broad, and always wearing that knowing smirk. Ife wasn't far behind, his glasses reflecting the neon glow as he adjusted his wristband.
"Look who actually showed up on time," Ife teased as he approached.
"Miracles do happen," I shot back.
Steven chuckled, stepping into the pod bay. "Let's move before the system reroutes our ride. I don't want to be stuck with some sweaty night shift workers."
We entered the sleek, capsule-like transport, and the door sealed with a soft hiss. A smooth, artificial voice chimed, "Destination: Arewa Heights confirmed."
As the pod lifted off, Ife stretched his legs, leaning back. "So… party of the year or just another overpriced gathering of rich kids pretending to be deep?"
"It's an experience," I said, tapping at the window as the city lights blurred past.
"That's code for 'I have no idea, but let's see where the night goes,'" Ife muttered.
Steven, scrolling through his comm device, barely looked up. "Liam's ghost friend will be there, so he's obviously invested."
I scoffed. "First of all, she's not my friend. Second—"
"She called you 'ghost,' bro. That's basically a nickname now," Steven grinned.
"You lot are ridiculous." I crossed my arms, shaking my head as Ife and Steven laughed.
The pod passed through a floating checkpoint, and suddenly, an ad flickered onto the holo-screen inside. A sharp, buzzing voice filled the cabin.
"Wanted: 'Ogaga'—leader of unidentified insurgent faction. Highly dangerous. Last seen in Central Neo-Nija. Bounty: 500,000 Zen credits."
I frowned. "Never seen that name before."
Ife tilted his head. "Looks like some rogue criminal. Never heard of him either."
Steven, however, had gone still. He leaned forward, staring at the ad with an intensity that made me and Ife exchange glances.
"Steven?" I asked.
He exhaled slowly. "He's real. And he's not just some bounty target."
I narrowed my eyes. "Meaning?"
Steven hesitated before looking between us. "He's the leader of the Fireburn Resistance."
Ife scoffed. "That old myth? The rebels fighting against the Zenith Council? It's just urban legend nonsense."
"It's not," Steven said flatly.
I studied him. "You're saying the resistance is real?"
Steven nodded, his voice low. "Very real. And if Ogaga's face is up there… something big is about to happen."
The pod hummed as we neared Arewa Heights, but the atmosphere inside had shifted. Ife and I exchanged uneasy glances, while Steven sat back, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
For the first time that night, I wasn't sure if this party would be just another social event—or the beginning of something far bigger.
. . . . . . . .
The moment we stepped into the party at Arewa Heights, the energy hit me like a charged current. Neon lights flickered in sync with the heavy bass booming through the air, and the crowd moved like one giant, chaotic wave. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional excited scream filled the space. It was electrifying, and alive.
Ife had already disappeared into the crowd, probably hunting for overpriced cocktails. Steven leaned against the railing of the upper lounge, watching everything with that unreadable expression of his. Me? I was just soaking it in. Nights like this felt like a different world—no stress, no expectations, just pure, unfiltered fun.
"Liam! We're running low!" Ife's voice cut through the noise, and I turned to see him waving his empty glass at me from across the room.
I sighed, shaking my head. "One day, you'll learn how to get your own drinks."
He just grinned, so I made my way through the throng of dancers, dodging a couple tangled in some kind of futuristic salsa. The bar was lined with sleek, glass dispensers, each pouring glowing liquids into levitating cups. I reached for one
"Ghost."
The voice was soft, teasing, and ridiculously familiar. I turned, already knowing who it was.
She stood there, the same girl from before—the one I caught at the entrance, the one who called me ghost. Tonight, under the shifting lights, she looked even more unreal. Dark curls framed her face, and her eyes gleamed with a mischievous spark.
"Still calling me that?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It fits," she said with a playful shrug. "You appeared out of nowhere, caught me like some kind of phantom, then vanished into the crowd. What else am I supposed to call you?"
"Liam works fine," I said, taking a sip of whatever neon blue drink I'd picked up. "And you? Or should I just call you the girl who almost fell?"
She laughed, the sound blending into the pulse of the music. "Ay."
"Ay?"
"Short for Ayomide. But you can stick with Ay."
I nodded, letting the name settle. "Nice to officially meet you, Ay."
We talked. And talked. About the party, about random, ridiculous things like whether or not the Zenith Council secretly controlled the weather. Her mind was sharp, her words quick, and before I knew it, time blurred.
Then—just like before—she was gone.
One second she was there, smirking at one of my sarcastic remarks, and the next, she had disappeared into the crowd. No goodbye, no warning. Like a ghost.
"Liam, drinks?" Ife called from somewhere behind me.
I blinked, exhaling sharply before grabbing a couple of glasses and turning back toward my friends. As I moved, someone bumped into me—hard.
"Hey, watch it—" I started, but the guy was already gone.
I barely caught a glimpse of him before he melted into the crowd. He moved fast, purposeful. He wore a blacky hoody. Something about him felt… off. Like he wasn't just another guest here to enjoy the party.
A strange unease settled in my chest, but I shook it off. It was just a party, right?
We were done for the night. The electric pulse of the party still lingered in the air as we stepped out of Arewa Heights. The streets were quieter now, the chaos of the night settling into a lazy hum of after-hours conversations and distant music.
Ife, on the other hand, was not settling.
"Bro, I swear, I can still hear the bass in my bones," he mumbled, leaning heavily on me. His breath reeked of whatever neon cocktail he'd drowned himself in. "Do you think—do you think if I close my eyes, I'll wake up still in the party?"
"You'll wake up in a ditch if you don't walk properly," Steven muttered, shaking his head.
I rolled my eyes and adjusted Ife's weight. "Come on, lightweight, let's get you home before you start reciting poetry."
We hadn't made it two blocks before the world around us cracked open.
BOOM.
The explosion came from the next street, shaking the air with a force that sent a pulse through my chest. A bright orange glow lit up the night, followed by the unmistakable roar of a fire bursting to life.
The shockwave sent dust and loose debris flying past us. Ife sobered up real quick, blinking in confusion.
"Okay… that wasn't just me hearing things, right?" he asked.
Alarms blared. Within seconds, security drones zipped overhead, their blue lights slicing through the thickening smoke. Zenith enforcers—clad in sleek, obsidian armor—rushed onto the scene, their heavy boots hitting the ground in perfect rhythm.
"Nobody moves!" One of them barked, voice amplified through their helmet.
I exchanged a look with Steven.
"Do we… stay put?" Ife asked weakly.
"Nope," Steven said, already moving.
We slipped into the shadows, ducking behind an idle transit pod. The explosion site was still too far to see clearly, but through the swirling smoke, I spotted movement. Figures darted through the ruins of whatever had just been blown up. Some moved with the frantic energy of civilians trying to escape. Others—more precise, more deliberate—had a mission.
Then, from the smoke, a black hoody emerged.
The figure sprinted past us. They moved like they knew the streets, weaving between wreckage and avoiding the enforcers' lines of sight with practiced ease.
"That's—" I started, my brain catching up.
It was the same guy from the party. The one who bumped into me.
Before I could react, another shadow burst from the smoke—this one much meaner. The bounty hunter moved like a machine, long coat flaring, lunged forward. The boots barely touched the ground before launched into another powerful stride, zeroing in on it's target.
"Move!" Steven yanked me back just as the hunter passed us, eyes locked on the prey.
In the distance, the enforcers were starting to close in, their drones scanning the area. We had a choice—stay out of it or see how deep this rabbit hole went.
I looked at Steven. He was already watching the scene intently, his mind working. Ife, for once, was silent, his usual jokes replaced with wary curiosity.
I took a breath.
"We followed."