The silence in the abandoned printing press was thick enough to slice. It wasn't just the absence of noise—it was a pause in destiny, a stilled breath before the collapse of everything that had come before.
Adesuwa crouched behind the conveyor belt, her chest rising and falling with slow, controlled breaths. Her eyes flicked to the red dot blinking faintly on her wrist tracker. She had exactly fourteen minutes before the data dump from Project Sunrise went live—and every Circle informant would be hunting her down like an animal.
Behind her, the soft shuffle of footsteps broke the stillness. She didn't need to turn. The gait was uneven. The left foot is heavier than the right. She knew that walk.
"I should shoot you where you stand," she said.
Yusuf stepped into view, hands raised. "You could try. But you'd miss. You always did."
She smirked without warmth. "Times change."
"So do people."
He looked older than she remembered—less like the street-smart hacker who once helped her crash into the governor's security mainframe, more like someone who had witnessed the death of too many ideals. His eyes held the weight of betrayal, his posture heavy with regret.
"You leaked the entry coordinates," she accused. "You're the reason they knew we were coming."
He nodded slowly, like a man walking to his own grave. "And I'm here to make it right."
Adesuwa laughed dryly. "With what? A confession and your wounded conscience?"
"No," Yusuf said. "With this."
He tossed a flash drive toward her. She caught it mid-air, eyes narrowing.
"That better not be another decoy."
"It's not," he replied. "It's the full map. Every safehouse, every operative. I stole it from the Circle's vault."
"And you expect me to believe you flipped because… what? You grew a soul?"
Yusuf stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Because Zuri's dead."
The name hit her like a slap. She froze, memories flashing—Zuri's laugh, her stubborn spirit, her loyalty.
"They found out she was feeding you intel. They made it look like an overdose. But I saw the footage."
Adesuwa clenched her fists. "Then this isn't redemption, Yusuf. It's revenge."
"Maybe they're the same thing now."
Before she could reply, her earpiece crackled. Tunde's voice came through, ragged and urgent.
"Suwa, you need to go. Now. They've traced the ping to your location."
"Copy that," she said, rising.
She turned back to Yusuf. "This doesn't mean I trust you."
"I don't need trust. Just aim for the right side when the bullets fly."
They moved fast through the dim corridors of the old press. Machines loomed like rusted skeletons in the dark. Adesuwa's mind raced. The map in her hands was a death sentence and salvation rolled into one. If she got it out, the Circle would crumble. But first, she had to stay alive long enough to upload it.
Outside, the streets of Yaba were unusually quiet. The kind of quiet that wrapped around you like a noose. Yusuf jumped into the driver's seat of an old Mercedes and hotwired it in under thirty seconds. Adesuwa slid into the passenger side.
They drove in tense silence until Yusuf said, "Where to?"
"There's a transmitter at Freedom Radio. It's abandoned now, but if I patch the signal, I can override their old broadcast system."
Yusuf whistled low. "You always did think big."
"They think Lagos is theirs to rewrite. I want every screen and every speaker to scream the truth."
He glanced at her. "We won't make it there quietly."
Adesuwa looked out the window. "Then we won't be quiet."
The ambush hit at the Third Mainland Bridge.
Motorcycles flanked them from both sides, riders in black helmets, rifles drawn. One smashed a window with the butt of his gun.
Yusuf swerved hard. "We've got company!"
Adesuwa pulled out her sidearm and fired three shots, dropping two riders. The car jolted as bullets ripped through the side panel.
"We can't outrun them," Yusuf shouted. "Hold on!"
He spun the wheel violently, sending the car into a drift. It screeched and slammed sideways into a truck. The impact dazed her, but she clutched the drive like her life depended on it.
They crawled from the wreck, bloodied but alive. Around them, sirens wailed, either real or imagined; she couldn't tell.
They ran.
Through alleys, across rooftops, past burning dumpsters and shattered glass. The city was a battlefield of memory and noise.
When they reached Freedom Radio, the tower loomed against the night sky like a relic of resistance.
They slipped inside. Dust coated every surface. The studio smelled of static and forgotten dreams. Yusuf powered the control panel while Adesuwa slotted in the drive.
The screen blinked to life. "Connection initialized."
A progress bar began to load.
"Sixty seconds," Yusuf said.
Then came the voice.
"I always knew you'd bring it here."
Adesuwa turned sharply. A woman stood in the doorway - elegant, lethal, eyes like ice.
"Erelu," Adesuwa whispered.
Erelu stepped in, gun raised. "You've made quite the mess."
Adesuwa raised her hands, stalling. "Do you want the drive?"
"I want you to understand that no matter how far you run, the Circle is eternal. Cut one head, and we grow five more."
"But you bleed," Adesuwa said. "And now, everyone will see it."
She nodded toward the monitor—92%.
Erelu cocked her gun. "I can end this now."
Yusuf stepped forward. "Then shoot me. But she dies, the truth lives."
Erelu paused. "You're brave, hacker. But bravery doesn't stop bullets."
Adesuwa made her move.
She flung a metal mic stand across the room, hitting the light panel. Sparks flew. Erelu flinched. In that split second, Adesuwa dove, tackling her to the floor.
They wrestled. The gun went off.
Yusuf screamed. Adesuwa rolled away, grabbing the weapon.
On the screen—Upload Complete.
The studio speakers crackled, and a voice echoed through Lagos.
"Project Sunrise is real. The Circle is real. And this is the truth they tried to bury."
Images flooded the screens—classified documents, surveillance footage, black sites, names.
Adesuwa slumped beside Yusuf, who was bleeding from the shoulder.
"It's out," she said.
Yusuf chuckled through pain. "Then we've won."
Erelu groaned, pinned beneath a cabinet. "You think this ends us?"
"No," Adesuwa replied. "It ends you."
She rose, helping Yusuf to his feet.
Sirens grew louder outside.
Adesuwa looked at the sunrise breaking through the clouds.
"The Hour of No Return," she whispered. "We're already past it."