3:13 a.m.
The lights went out across Abuja.
Not just lights. Everything. Phones, generators, car engines, radio signals—dead. The entire city fell into a silence so deep it felt… wrong.
Anthony sat upright on the living room couch, heart pounding. The stillness outside wasn't peaceful. It was heavy. Watching.
He glanced at Emmanuella, curled on the floor with a blanket, eyes open wide.
"Tony…" she whispered. "Can you feel that?"
He nodded slowly. The air felt thick. Every breath was harder than the last. Like something invisible had settled over the city, pressing down.
Their parents were awake too. Their father stood at the doorway with a kitchen knife. Their mom held her phone, though it had long since gone black.
No one said anything. Because everyone felt it.
Then the screams started.
Far off at first—then closer. People yelling, windows shattering, something like… wings flapping?
Anthony rushed to the balcony and pulled the curtain back just enough to see outside.
A man was floating mid-air across the street.
No, not floating—twitching. Like a puppet held by strings of lightning. His body spasmed as sparks ran up and down his limbs. Then, he dropped.
A woman sprinted past his house barefoot, eyes glowing white. Behind her, something roared in the dark.
"What the hell is happening?" Anthony breathed.
Confidence called. Somehow, her voice still came through.
"I think… I think we're changing," she whispered. "Some people are dying. Others are awakening. My cousin just... disappeared. I saw him vanish into light. Right in front of me."
Anthony didn't respond. He looked down at his hand.
A crackle of faint light ran across his fingers, then vanished.
"What are we becoming?" he murmured.
No answer came.
Outside, the sky still glowed with that impossible vanta-blue, like a scar above the Earth.
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