Semua Bab CITADEL: Bab 1 - Bab 10

Evening. Near Quarry 3A.The sky had gone deep purple, like bruised fruit. The sun had almost disappeared behind the clouds, but the heat lingered. Abigail sat on a slab of broken concrete, arms folded tightly. Her leg tapped the ground, restless. She kept looking at the path leading back from the trade quarter.Samuel stood nearby, pacing. Third time around the same circle. “You don’t think he just went to get water or something? Or maybe he branched off to check that boy who sells radio parts.” “He’s been gone for over four hours, Sam.”“Okay… maybe he found a better buyer. You know how he gets when he thinks he’s being clever.”“Stop talking like this is normal. You saw his face after that drone left. He already made up his mind. Tunde didn’t disappear. He made a move.”Samuel paused. He sighed, dragging his palm across his sweaty forehead. “He’s probably trying to do something crazy again. That boy, he carries too much dream in his head.”Abigail stood now, brushing dirt from her

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

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

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

The final note still hung in the air when the lights shifted, flooding the stage in gold. The applause came like a wave, polite at first, then rising into something almost reverent. Tunde bowed, but his eyes were already searching the shadows beyond the glow.As the platform lowered into the backstage bay, drones swooped in to capture close-up shots of his face. He smiled for them, the smile Makan had taught him, then turned toward the dressing corridor.And stopped.Abigail stood there. Dust still clung to her boots, her jacket zipped to the throat. Samuel was just behind her, scanning every shadow like he expected an ambush.For a heartbeat, no one spoke.Then Tunde exhaled, his voice low. “What are you doing here?”“You think we’d just leave you here?” Abigail said, stepping forward. “This isn’t you, Tunde. You’re singing their songs, wearing their chains. You’ve let Makan into your head.”“I’m fine,” he said, but it came out too sharp, too fast. “You don’t know what you’re talking