"
The sun never rises on the second day.
Instead, the skies grow dark — unnaturally so. Thick clouds roll in like a bad omen. The battlefield stills. Birds flee. Even the wind refuses to move.
In the ruins of fallen Ayo, far from the warfront, Bankode kneels before a blood-soaked altar. He chants in the forgotten tongue of the deep spirits, pouring the blood of captured warriors into a hollow carved into the earth. The ground trembles. A dark mist rises.
On the battlefield, the mist slithers across the land like a living thing. It slips into the lungs of both rebel and empire soldiers — but only a chosen few collapse.
Yemi. Adeola. Bayo. Moremi. Femi. Damilola. Akinmule.
One by one, they freeze mid-strike. Their swords falter. Their eyes roll back. They fall — but not in death.
They are dragged into a nightmare realm crafted by Bankode's ritual. There, time is not time. Pain is not illusion. And escape... is not promised.
---
Inside the Shadows: Each Warrior's Nightmare
🔹 Adeola walks alone through a burning version of the Ayo palace. Ash fills the sky. The gates are shattered. Fire licks the walls. From the throne, King Abiola's spirit rises, eyes hollow.
> "You carry my blood, but not my courage. You let our name burn."
Adeola falls to his knees as smoke chokes his breath. He sees the rebel legion dying — again. He sees Moremi bleeding. He cannot move.
---
🔹 Yemi stands at the foot of a grave. Over and over again, he watches his father Chief Alade struck down — the blade sinking into his chest. And each time, his father looks at him and says:
> "You were never ready."
The words echo like thunder, drowning out Yemi's cries. He drops his sword. His hands shake. The ground beneath him becomes a pit.
---
🔹 Bayo returns to Ibadi — or what's left of it. His mother, his siblings, his people — they kneel before him, pleading.
> "Save us."
But before he can reach them, they vanish into dust. Over and over again.
He screams, but there's no voice. Just silence.
---
🔹 Moremi finds herself in her childhood home, reduced to blood and ruin. Wale's body lies before her. Her younger brother. Her protector. His blood on her hands.
Across the room, Adebayo stands smirking. She charges. But her blade will not move.
> "You are not strong enough," he whispers.
Tears blur her vision. Her rage cannot break the curse.
---
🔹 Damilola sees her sister again — bound, weeping — in the hands of Durojaiye. Her former captor.
She screams, claws at the air, but her feet won't move. She watches it happen. Again. And again.
> "You were too weak to stop it."
She falls to the ground, broken.
---
🔹 Akinmule walks a field of bones. The warriors he killed in service to the Ojora Empire rise from the dirt — hollow-eyed, bleeding, whispering:
> "Butcher… butcher…"
His sword turns to ash in his hand. Their voices grow louder.
He kneels — for the first time not in battle, but in shame.
---
🔹 Femi stands alone. He sees Damilola and Ayomide wounded, dying — calling for him.
> "Where were you?"
He runs, but the ground keeps pulling him back. He reaches out — too late.
> "You are always afraid."
His courage, once his pride, now becomes a curse.
---
Meanwhile… In the Real World
On the battlefield, chaos reigns. Rebel fighters form a protective ring around the seven fallen warriors. Arrows rain. Swords clash. But the camp holds.
Morenike, sensing what is truly happening, kneels and enters a trance of her own.
Her spirit walks into the shadows.
There, she finds a realm between dreams and death, the air thick with fear. She walks between nightmares — touching each of them, trying to break the chains. But then, she feels it.
A dark version of Bankode, formed from shadow and mockery, stands waiting.
> "You think you can save them? You are the daughter of failure. Your power is borrowed… and your time is short."
Morenike steadies herself.
> "They are more than warriors. They are the flame. And I will not let you drown them i
n shadows."
She raises her staff. Light begins to bloom. The nightmare realm begins to shake.
But the fight is far from over.