The city was quieter now. The chaos had settled into the cracks of the streets, like leftover tension from a dream you weren't supposed to wake up from. Jack walked home, the soles of his shoes brushing against the familiar dirt roads of Accra, but his mind was a million miles away—past the skyline, past the stars, deep into the strange echo of the old man's words.
Jack (inner monologue):
"Why now? Why me? Who even was my dad?"
The sky burned with twilight. His thoughts did too. Then—
A ripple in reality.
The air twisted like wrung cloth, and from the alley beside him, a form began to manifest—shadows folding into each other like origami made of nightmares.
It stood. Grotesque. Unnatural. Limbs too long. Eyes like pits of regret. Its body shimmered in shifting hues of black and bleeding red, like a corrupted oil spill given form. And then—
It lunged.
Jack gasped, instincts kicking in like ancestral memory. He ran like thunder in his veins, like the ancient sprinters of his lineage—like a true Ghanaian whose jollof was about to burn.
Jack (inner monologue, panicked):
"Nope. Nope. NOPE. What was that?!"
He weaved through a small crowd like a breeze in a marketplace, pushing past a fruit vendor, tripping over a pothole that had been there since before he was born, and finally—finally—home.
He slammed the gate shut, chest heaving, lungs grabbing at oxygen like it owed him money. And just when his panic hit its peak—
SLAM.
The door burst open.
Cindy (alarmed):
"What's going on?! Why are you panting—Jack?!"
Jack looked up, eyes wide, sweat slicked across his brow. This wasn't playground fear. This wasn't Lawrence being a jerk again. This was different. Primal.
Jack:
"Mom... I—I saw something. A monster. It chased me… I—what the hell is happening?!"
And then, just like she used to when he scraped his knee as a kid, she wrapped her arms around him. A mother's hug—stronger than magic.
Cindy (softly):
"It's okay. You're safe. Nothing will happen to you..."
But when she pulled back… her eyes said otherwise.
Something in her gaze... cracked open.
Cindy (quietly):
"Jack... there's something I need to tell you."
Jack (suddenly alert):
"What is it?"
She looked away, the weight of years pooling in her throat before she finally let the dam break.
Cindy:
"It's about your father. It's time you knew...
His name was Adu Oberempong. He wasn't just a hunter. He was the hunter. One of honor, one of instinct. But then... he was chosen by a higher power. Everything changed after that."
Jack (connecting the dots):
"Right. That's exactly what the old man told me..."
Cindy (nodding):
"That man must have known. Adu was chosen by a being called Centron... from beyond the stars. Beyond everything we know. Your father became the bridge between two worlds—Earth and a realm known as Airious."
Jack (small smile):
"So he became... Valitor?"
Cindy:
"Yes. The Champion of Nature. But with great purpose comes great burden. I didn't want you to carry it... not yet."
Jack:
"But why me? I didn't ask for this, Mom…"
Cindy (softly):
"And I'm not asking you to accept it now. Just... know the truth. Sleep on it."
Jack nodded, though his mind refused to. He walked slowly to his room, the creak of the door sounding louder tonight.
He sat on his bed. The moonlight made shadows dance across the walls like ghosts with secrets. Jack peered out the window…
No monster.
But he felt it. Watching. Waiting.
He laid down, arms behind his head, the ceiling becoming a canvas for his thoughts.
Jack (inner monologue):
"My father… a hunter… a chosen champion... And now there's something chasing me. I need answers. I'll go back to the shop. The old man knows more. He has to."
But even as his body tired, his eyes stayed wide. Dreams couldn't find him tonight—only questions.
The sun rose like it had something to prove.
And yet… the world didn't change. The streets were still buzzing, the tro-tros still honked like geese in traffic therapy, and school? Just as painfully ordinary.
Jack (inner monologue):
"No ghouls. No claws. No creepy old men spouting cosmic prophecies... just algebra and awkward puberty again. Great."
He stepped through the school gates like a soldier returning from the front lines—only to find the battlefield hadn't changed. But he had.
And then, like clockwork...
There he was.
Lawrence.
Same old menace. The hallway lion, hungry for another day of bullying.
Jack (inner monologue):
"Oh, come on, man. I almost forgot this guy existed... What happened to yesterday's ghoul-trauma being my worst problem?"
Lawrence moved in—stalking like a predator that had already tasted victory too many times to fear defeat.
Lawrence (grinning):
"So... the boy returns. What? Waiting for your savior again?"
But today... Jack didn't flinch. He stood straight, like his spine remembered it had dignity.
Jack (calm, sharp):
"Nope. Not today, Lawrence. Not today."
The hall froze. Even the walls held their breath.
Lawrence's smirk twitched, caught off guard. That wasn't the prey response he was expecting.
Lawrence:
"Oh? Got wings now, huh?"
He lunged.
But Jack moved like instinct—not like he trained for this, but like his blood did.
He dodged.
He pushed back.
Hard.
The crowd gasped.
Phones lowered.
Time slowed.
Jack's eyes—narrowed. A new fire lit behind them. A quiet storm.
Jack (low, cold):
"No, Lawrence. You've done enough."
"I may not be stronger than you…"
"But I could destroy your ego with a thought."
"You're lucky I don't."
Crowd:
"Yoooooo…"
Like the entire hallway turned into a low-key anime panel.
Lawrence blinked. Tilted his head. Chuckled once.
Then—his face hardened like stone.
Lawrence:
"Watch your tongue, boy. You have no idea who you're talking to."
And just when tension threatened to snap the air in two—Henry stepped in, arms crossed, that mischievous grin of his practically glowing.
Henry:
"What's wrong, Lawry? Can't handle a little defiance?"
He snorted, proud, like a sidekick watching the main character level up mid-arc.
Lawrence glanced at him. Then at Jack. His mind clicked.
He pieced it all together.
Lawrence (quietly):
"I see where this is going… Fine."
He turned, but not before locking eyes with Jack—one last silent warning.
Lawrence:
"You won't be like this forever."
And with that, he disappeared into the crowd, swallowed by murmurs and muttered disbelief.
Jack exhaled. Smiled. Not cocky—relieved.
Jack:
"I did it, huh? All I needed... was a little confidence."
Henry (nodding):
"Told you. Being brave isn't about not being afraid. It's about doing it anyway."
They bumped fists—small moment, huge meaning.
But as Jack turned to head to class… something faint echoed in his chest. A whisper. A pulse.
Like a dormant force shifting slightly in its sleep.
Jack (inner monologue):
"Okay... Maybe this isn't just about monsters and prophecies anymore. Maybe… I'm actually becoming something."