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ENTRY 9
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2025-08-05 05:33:19
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CITADEL ENTRY 9
Eko Citadel, Concert Hall, NightTunde stood in the center of a stage that wasn’t a stage but a floating platform of light, suspended above a sea of glowing faces.The concert hall was shaped like a blooming flower, glass petals arching high above the audience. Holographic birds wheeled across the ceiling. A choir of projected voices harmonized softly, waiting for him to begin.His robe shimmered white and gold under the lights. A crown of soft holographic rays circled his head.“Are you ready?” a voice said in his earpiece.Tunde swallowed. “No.”“Good,” came the reply. “Only the ready ones sound dead.”The lights dimmed. The crowd hushed.And he began to sing.---Citadel Border, Scan ZoneThe hauler slowed.Abigail tensed, peering through the vent. Checkpoint.Guards in black Citadel armor circled the hauler. One held a glowing scanner that swept the sides of the vehicle.Samuel’s breathing quickened.“Stay still,” she hissed.A beam of blue light washed over the compartment. She h
CITADEL ENTRY 8
Eko Citadel, Celestia StudiosThe studio……, oh the studio, it was a chatedral; not to God, to perfection.Light bled through glass walls etched with shifting patterns, like the room itself was alive. The air hummed with faint harmonics from sound-dampening fields. A choir of holograms floated around him, reacting to his breath, filling in harmonies he didn’t have to ask for.Tunde stood in the booth barefoot, the floor beneath him glowing faintly with each step. A single note in his throat could make the room respond, the panels tuning themselves to his range, the orchestra adjusting to his rhythm.The track began: a slow swell of strings, a drum that sounded like a heartbeat under rubble, a haunting synth line that reminded him of wind through a broken window.He closed his eyes.And sang.It came out raw at first, gravel on silk, then steadied into something deeper, smooth, mournful, alive. The Citadel tech could scrub every imperfection, polish every line, but it couldn’t fake the
CITADEL ENTRY 7
EKO CITADELThe cuffs came off with a sharp click, leaving red rings on Tunde’s wrists. He rubbed them absently as the heavy doors slid open, flooding the corridor with warm, golden light.“Welcome to the Citadel, Tunde,” Makan said, his voice calm, almost fatherly.If the interrogation room had been a cage, this place was an illusion of freedom. The floor beneath his feet glowed faintly with embedded light strips, the walls curved and alive with soft-moving displays of distant forests, oceans, and skies that didn’t exist anymore. The air smelled of jasmine and something sweeter, synthetic but clean.Tunde didn’t answer. His ribs still ached from the Fangs, and now his mind buzzed with the weight of being here, inside the dream, walking on its polished bones.Makan glanced back at him. “I had you brought to me for a reason. You’ve been playing a dangerous game. But you’re useful. And I value usefulness.”He gestured for Tunde to follow.They walked through a wide atrium lined with lev
CITADEL ENTRY 6
EKO. CITADEL – INTERROGATION ROOM – NIGHTCold light. Cold table. Cold stares.Tunde sat still, arms resting on a smooth, white-metal surface. His wrists were red from the cuffs that had only just been removed. The room was spotless. No vents, no windows. Only the buzz of invisible tech and the soft hum of surveillance.Across from him stood Officer Adetayo — tall, composed, unblinking. A steel pen in her hand clicked rhythmically."You knew what the scanner field was. You looked directly at the camera. Why?" Adetayo said.Tunde didn’t answer. Not at first.She walked around the table, voice even, without emotion."Was it a message? A dare? Or are you just stupid?" EARLIER THAT DAYThe transport hissed open.Tunde stepped into the Citadel proper, and for a heartbeat, he forgot how to breathe.It wasn’t just the light. It was everything.Skylights poured soft, golden sun over glass towers that spiraled like frozen waterfalls. Levitating trams glided silently overhead, leaving trails o
CITADEL ENTRY 5
Ten Years Ago – Sector 12, Grey ZoneIt was raining again. Not the kind of rain that nourished, but the kind that felt like regret, thin, acidic, and cold.Tunde sat huddled under a frayed blanket, watching his mother crouch in front of the stove, coaxing a flickering flame from a rusted burner. Her fingers moved carefully, deliberately, like every matchstick had a prayer attached to it.He was eight. Hungry. But not just for food.“Mama?” he asked. “Is it soup day… or just steam?”She glanced back at him, her eyes ringed with fatigue but still holding that gentle fire. “Soup,” she said softly. “A new recipe. Ash and honey.”He gave her a look, somewhere between amusement and confusion.“It’s an old Ruins special,” she said, dropping a sliver of moldy root into boiling water. “A pinch of ash to remind us of where we are. A hint of honey to remind us not to stay here forever.”“But we don’t have honey.”She smiled. “Exactly.”Later, they sat shoulder to shoulder beneath the leaking roo
CITADEL ENTRY 4
ENTRY 4 The night was thick with smoke and heat. From their vantage point on a sagging rooftop near Sector 9, Abigail crouched low, eyes fixed on the distant glow of the Adrium vault entrance. Her hands gripped a battered pair of binocs, one lens slightly cracked. Next to her, Samuel was lying flat on his stomach, fingers drumming nervously against the corrugated metal. “You’re sure he’s in?” he whispered. She nodded without looking. “Slipped past the checkpoint like he belonged there. He’s either brave… or stupid.” Samuel sighed. “Can’t be both?” A pause. Then a dry smile tugged at her lips. “Tunde? He’s definitely both.” They watched in silence as the vault lights flickered once, a barely visible red pulse across the ridge. Silent perimeter trip. Right on schedule. Samuel tensed. “That’s it. It started.” Abigail lowered the binocs and scanned the skies. Nothing yet. No hum. No searchlights. But it was only a matter of time. “You think they’ll really follow the signal all
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