Major Ayo turned the corner, steps calm, focused—until he saw a familiar figure leaning against the wall beside his office door.
Major Deji.
Arms folded. Back straight. Waiting.
Ayo let out a low chuckle as he approached.
"You must've finished tending to your battered Hand," he said. "Though it seems your duties to him haven't ended. What brings you to my door?"
Deji stood upright, slowly—like a stone shifting into place.
"For years," he began, voice low but heavy, "I've served this family. On the field. Off the field. Official contracts. Even those… unspoken ones. I've seen questionable calls. I've faced unfair judgment. But no matter what the issue was… I've always treated everyone and everything with respect."
He stepped away from the wall, now standing directly before Ayo.
"Always."
"But today," Deji continued, "I was in the middle of a moment with my Hand. And you—" he jabbed a finger toward Ayo's chest, "—you barged in. Interrupted it. Let your Hand attack mine under the false name of a spar, when I could see he had violent intent from the start."
He leaned in, eyes sharp.
"Do you take me for a fool?"
Ayo exhaled and stepped forward, just slightly. "You're asking the wrong things. You know your Hand is..."
He tilted his head from side to side, as if trying to find the perfect word.
"…faulty."
The word dropped like a stone.
Deji's jaw tensed. "What do you mean by that?"
Ayo gave a slow smile.
"Why not ask Master, what kind of Hand he's made? A Hand who—after five months—couldn't land a single strike. Not one. Yes, Tolu has more experience, but there was nothing—nothing—divine in Akenzua's movements. The crowd saw it too."
He took a half-step closer.
"Makes me wonder what kind of Hand our Master Abiodun has given this family."
Deji's voice dropped, cold and direct. "Mind your tone. That's our Master you speak of."
Ayo shrugged. "He's only a Master because of his Hands. And if this is what he's offering…" He narrowed his eyes. "Maybe he's not fit for the title."
A breath.
"Maybe Master Abiodun's loyalty isn't to this family at all."
Ayo's words had barely left his mouth before Deji stepped forward and grabbed him by the neck with one hand, palm firm, shoving him backwards.
"Watch your mouth," Deji growled, eyes locked.
Ayo's boots dragged along the tiled floor, but he caught himself, planting his feet.
He didn't stumble.
Didn't fall.
Instead, his hand snapped up, grabbed Deji's wrist, twisted—and in one clean motion, broke the hold and slammed Deji into the wall beside him with a bone-shaking thud.
"Careful," Ayo said, voice low and tight as he tried to pin Deji in place. "Don't let your emotions make a fool out of you."
Deji gritted his teeth, planted his heel, and surged forward. He twisted out of the hold, and this time he shoved, ramming Ayo into the staircase rail on the other side of the corridor.
The wood creaked.
Metal groaned.
The entire rail bent beneath the weight of Deji's shove.
His voice came low, steady—but burning with fire.
"You can disrespect me. Say what you want about my choices, my skills, even my judgment. I'll take that. I've gotten worse."
He leaned in.
"But what I will not tolerate—what I will never let pass—is disrespect to Master Abiodun. Not from you. Not from anyone."
He paused, chest rising slowly.
"You speak of tradition," he continued, eyes locked. "Tell me—since when is it tradition for a Major to spit on his Master like that?"
Ayo didn't respond right away.
He stood still, pressed against the warped rail.
Breathing.
Then, slowly, his fingers pressed against Deji's chest. Not in aggression—but with steady pressure.
The resistance grew, like a tide rising beneath Deji's stance.
When Ayo finally spoke, his voice was calm. Controlled.
"My actions may seem out of place. My words might sound misguided and disrespectful."
He pushed.
"But everything I do is for this family—and for the traditions that built it."
Deji held his ground. For a second.
Then Ayo rose.
Pushed through him.
One foot stepped forward. Then another.
Until Deji found himself being forced back.
"I always wondered," Ayo said, now standing tall, eyes sharp, "why Master Abiodun let that boy into this family."
He adjusted his collar, brushing off invisible dust.
"But now I understand."
His eyes met Deji's.
"It's because of you."
A breath passed. Thick with weight.
"Don't be a fool, Deji," Ayo continued, voice low. "You brought him in. So you must've seen it. Haven't you?"
Deji didn't answer—but his silence said enough.
How?
That was all he could think.
How could Ayo know? Akenzua had been under control all this time. He'd never slipped. Not once.
So how could Ayo possibly know? Was it Simi or Tor ?
"Something is wrong with that boy," Ayo said. "And he needs to be treated—or executed. If necessary."
The corridor felt colder.
Deji's skin prickled.
He stood frozen.
"If you value Master's position in this family," Ayo went on, his voice sharpening, "and your own—then you'll do the right thing."
He leaned in. Whispered:
"Akenzua is not Jimoh."
The words landed like a punch to Deji's chest.
He stared. Blank. Still.
Thoughts racing, yet drowned in silence.
Ayo stepped back. Turned slightly toward the stairway—then stopped.
"If you won't act," he said without turning around, "I will. You and Master can protect him for now. But the truth will come to light."
He glanced over his shoulder, one last time.
"And Major—"
His voice dropped to a chill.
"Don't ever put your hands on me again."
Then he walked away.
Leaving Deji alone in the corridor.
No voices, No sound.
Just the groan of the twisted rail behind him.
And a silence he didn't know how to answer.
***
Rumors of my spar with Tolu had spread quickly through the House of Adesina. Word of it twisted and stretched, as it always did. Some Hands started calling me a false Hand, whispering that I had the smallest divine essence ever seen in the family. Others believed I had none at all, and questioned why Master Abiodun would waste divine essence to make a weak hand.
A few even said it was a sign the family was losing its touch. If the Masters had begun making weaker Hands just to fill ranks, maybe the Adesinas weren't as strong as they once were.
Wherever I went—the training field, the Divine Craft shop, even the dining hall—the murmurs followed. I was used to silence, but this was a different kind. This was the silence of people watching and pretending not to.
But Major Deji noticed and was not the kind to let it slide.
Any Hand he caught spreading the rumors—especially those calling me a false Hand—was sent straight to the grove. Their punishment was clear: cut daiwood from the descendant trees and prepare stock for the next Dai Festival.
However, I had long since moved on from the spar. The nickname didn't bother me. False Hand? I found it amusing. If anything, it was better than what I truly was. Let them believe I was a weak hand, a mistake. That version was easier to accept than the real one.
What bothered me wasn't what they said—but what they might find out later.
Whenever I saw Deji punish someone for the mockery, I always tried to speak up.
"Major, please let it be," I'd say, voice flat but polite.
Deji rarely listened.
So I would simply follow the punished Hands to the grove and help them cut daiwood. I said nothing. I just worked beside them, matching their pace. Most didn't know what to say. Some avoided eye contact. A few stared at me like I was a ghost.
It was all easy to ignore, the grove was interesting. Peaceful, even.
I learned that the shrine held the original Dai Trees. The trees in the grove were their descendants, planted and grown purposefully for harvest. These descendant trees were the ones used to extract raw daiwood.
One dai—disc-shaped and small as the palm—could be carved into eight slips. The dai would be carved and weighed by dai crafters, and then distributed as currency across the western kingdom.
It was fascinating.
How something as old and spiritual as a tree could become the same dai that bought bread, sealed contracts, and fueled wars. How something so quiet could decide so much.
***
Major Deji, though quick to punish the Hands who called Akenzua a false Hand, couldn't shake off what Major Ayo had said the other day. The words lingered like a bad taste. It bothered him deeply—how Ayo had figured it out was a mystery. And now, the whole situation was starting to slip through his fingers. Letting the Hands spread that "false Hand" nickname would only unravel things faster.
He wouldn't allow that.
He needed to get ahead of it. Take control. Figure out exactly how Ayo knew what he knew.
Simi and Tor had denied ever sharing that information. They hadn't even spoken to Ayo since Akenzua joined the family. He believed them—and that was enough to strike their names off his list.
That left questions. What else did Ayo know? Had he told anyone? And—most importantly—was there any way to alter what he knew?
These thoughts weighed on him as he stood watching a few Hands cut daiwood in the grove. Some of them belonged to other Masters, so their own Majors would occasionally pull them out of punishment to send them on a contract—something Deji had no authority to stop.
It didn't take long before the House was nearly empty. Contracts were coming in fast across the region, but strangely enough, none were landing on Deji's table. Not even the small ones. Even his Upper Hand, Bajo, had received a contract.
It was unusual—probably the only reason he even had the time to be dealing with Hands at the grove. The silence was stretching too long.
Even Tor and Simi had started asking if there were any updates. They were bored out of their minds. Tor had even begun walking around the house in circles like a trapped beast. Simi who longed to increase contract tally and become an Upper was also troubled by the drought of contracts.
Akenzua, on the other hand, didn't mind the quiet. He was already used to being left behind on contracts, and when he was taken along, it was rare. Having the whole squad in the House for more than a few days felt strange but not unwelcome.
During this time, his relationship with Simi began to grow—faster than either of them expected. Their conversations lingered longer. They started seeking each other out for no reason. Laughter came easier.
It made Tor restless.
He'd never admit it, but it drove him insane.
The way they talked.
The way Simi looked at Akenzua—laughing at things that weren't even that funny. It wasn't jealousy.
Of course not. He didn't care. Why would he?
She could laugh with whoever she wanted. It didn't mean anything. Besides, Akenzua had Major Segun to worry about.
But even with that in mind, he still found himself cutting in. Asking unnecessary questions. Pulling Simi away for "help" with things he didn't actually need help with. Training at odd hours just to keep Akenzua occupied.
He needed a contract. Badly. Something to take his mind off it, off them. Something to break the slow spiral he was falling into.
Lucky for him, his prayers were answered.
Major Deji was summoned by Master Abiodun.
The walk to the office felt unusually long that day. He could tell from the quiet tension in the hallways and the expression on the messenger's face that this wasn't a routine meeting. When he stepped into the room, Master Abiodun was already seated. A folded parchment lay beside him, and a stone map was spread across the desk—marked with deep, weathered lines converging at a center point.
It looked like he had been studying it for hours.
"The Central Confluence," the Master said, without looking up.
Deji frowned. "What about it?"
Abiodun finally raised his eyes. "It's turning into a battlefield. You must have noticed the increase in contracts lately."
Deji nodded.
"That's because the Eastern Madarikans and the Udoka Family have redirected their focus entirely to the Central Confluence."
He leaned back in his chair.
"They're usually the first to respond to mid-level threats and contract calls across their bordering regions—but now that they're locked in at the center, the contracts they would've taken are spilling into the Hands of other families and Madarikans from different kingdoms."
Deji's eyes narrowed as he began to piece it together.
"And that shift," Abiodun continued, "has created an imbalance. Increased demand in unfamiliar regions. Units stretched thin. Territories left unguarded or delayed in response. It's not just the Confluence that's under strain anymore. The ripple is destabilizing everything."
Deji went silent for a moment. That made sense. But even with all the rising demand, he had still received no new contracts
He asked, "But it's just a trade route, isn't it? The Eastern Madarikans and the Udokas have always secured the central confluence. Why so much attention to it now?"
Master Abiodun leaned forward slightly. "It's more than just a trade route. It's the lifeline between the four kingdoms. Every major good passes through it—food, iron, oil, silks, crafts, wood—you name it. If it collapses, the entire world economy follows."
He paused. "Yes, for decades it's been guarded well. But something's changed."
The tone in his voice grew heavier.
"Coordinated Fallen attacks. Not random. Intentional, specific, and consistent. Traders are dying. The Eastern Madarikans and even the Udoka family have lost two units. And with those losses come panic, political unrest… and economic strain."
Deji's jaw tightened.
"It forced the kingdoms into an emergency council," Abiodun said. "One that included all four kings, every Divine Father and Mother, and the Madarikan captains of each Kingdom."
He leaned back. "The result? A rare joint extermination contract. It will combine Majors and Hands from all four Divine Families—and Madarikan units from each kingdom."
Deji stayed quiet, absorbing it.
"The roles will differ," Abiodun continued. "We—Divines—will sweep and purge the region. The Madarikans will support us where needed. Reinforce weak points. Handle deep recon. Keep us from getting flanked."
He tapped the map again. "This isn't just an extermination. We're investigating what caused the shift. And depending on the outcome, there are plans to construct a Trade Fortress. A permanent one. Something to make sure this never happens again."
Deji narrowed his eyes. "And you want me there?"
Abiodun gave a short nod. "I was the Master chosen to deploy Hands for this contract."
He let the weight of that settle before continuing.
"That's why you haven't been receiving any new contracts. I needed to make sure you'd be available."
A brief pause.
"You'll be accompanied by Major Adeshola. She's returning from her current mission and will be fully briefed once she arrives. The two of you will form a joint unit."
Deji looked down at the map.
"And Akenzua?"
Abiodun didn't answer right away.
"Take him. If this gets out of hand, you'll need something as powerful as the thing in him. He can be your wild card."
He paused again.
"But only when necessary. Understood?"
Deji nodded. "Understood."