The car sped through the quiet streets of Riverton, a city known for its skyscrapers and busy markets. Outside the window, the city lights flickered like distant stars.
Laga's mind was calm, but inside, something stirred—a familiar feeling he hadn't allowed himself to feel for years.
When they arrived, a small group waited outside a modest villa. The air was thick with tension and worry.
Inside, Chief Damba lay on a soft bed, pale and barely breathing. Machines beeped faintly, but nothing seemed to help.
The room was full of people in expensive clothes, doctors shaking their heads, and family members whispering prayers.
Laga stepped forward, his presence quiet but commanding. The doctors glanced at him skeptically.
"This man," one whispered, "claims he can help when we all have failed."
Laga didn't answer. He reached out gently and placed his hands on Chief Damba's chest.
A silence fell.
Minutes passed.
Suddenly, the chief coughed, his eyes fluttering open.
A gasp rose from the crowd.
The chief's breathing steadied.
Laga pulled back his hands and looked at the family.
"He is stable now. But he needs rest."
The eldest daughter stepped forward, tears in her eyes.
"Who are you?" she asked softly.
Laga smiled faintly.
"Someone who owes a debt."
The chief whispered hoarsely, "Laga… you saved me."
Outside the room, the eldest daughter turned to her mother.
"We must ask him something... important."
Laga was led to the living room, where an ornate ring was placed in his hand.
"As thanks," the eldest daughter said, "will you marry my granddaughter?"
Laga's eyes flickered.
"I will."
But the granddaughter didn't know the man she was about to marry—the man they all thought was broken, weak, and forgotten.
And Laga… he was about to step into a world that would change everything.