Chapter 2: The Rise of the Apocalypse Era

Fifty years ago:

The world begin change—na so so burial, so so wahala, people just dey vanish from street. Empty house everywhere, hunger dey show for face.

Human numbers drop like rain for dry season.

Numbers reduce so tay, you fit count people for your street with your ten fingers.

Twenty-four years ago:

Demons invade our world.

The day demons first land, e be like thunder strike market. E shock everybody. Churches full overnight, mosque no get space, shrine dey burn incense. But prayer no stop anything that day.

Human beings chop massacre wey pass any before, na just over ten million survive.

If you see massacre, your leg go weak. Na that time dem count us reach ten million. Families scatter, nobody know who remain alive.

But small small, some people begin awaken power—abilities. That na how we manage defend only one city.

Small small, hope begin rise. People with power gather for one city, dem build fence, begin arrange life from scratch.

That’s how we enter the Apocalypse Era.

Everybody sabi that name—Apocalypse Era. The old world don waka. If you get food, you be king. If you sabi fight, na you be hope.

Abilities get five levels: B-level, A-level, S-level, SS-level, and SSS-level. If you see SSS-level for outside, better greet am well.

Me, I be SSS-level.

My own na SSS. E no easy. The day power show, I almost burn my papa farm. Since then, na me dey lead fight.

To protect people, I form Ability Union, write strict rules.

I gather those wey get sense and power, form Ability Union. E no matter age or tribe—na only who fit survive. I write rules, everybody must follow. If you break am, you go chop punishment.

After that, I volunteer guard border.

No be say I get two heads, but na me first carry sword, dey stand for border, dey wait anything wey wan cross. If na demon, e go hear am.

Alone, with my sword, I protect peace for the edge of our last hope.

The sword sef no be ordinary. Baba Lawal forge am, pour oil, do midnight prayer. E heavy, but e obey my hand.

As time pass,

Demons still dey come, but the pain—losing people, fear of night—small small, e dey fade. People start small business, children dey play ball for empty land. Hope small dey grow.

The pain slowly fade.

Na so. E no go ever finish, but laughter fit still leak from mouth sometimes.

Humans start to live in peace again.

Even if na shaky peace, e still be peace. Life hard, but people don learn to smile—even if na sharp smile wey fit disappear once horn blow.