The nexus shook like a drunk man on okada, walls sweating molten stone, air thick with the stink of burnt iron and thunder's after-smell.
03:00 AM, October, 2085. Tobi's chest burned like ogogoro poured straight on hot coal.
"Zara no fit die here".
The guardian's core split wide KPAI! like overripe pawpaw under cutlass.
Plasma screamed out, lightning veins crawling over his skin like angry masquerades.
His new domain roared awake: iron clanged, courage thundered, plasma spat fire,
one breath one strike.
Threads snapped out iron-hard, courage-fast, plasma-wild and punched clean through the core.
BOOM.
The guardian folded in on itself, imploding into a storm of ash and sparks that rained like black confetti.
Silence dropped heavy,
Tobi staggered, knees kissing cracked stone.
The Crest in his chest pulsed slow, heavy, like a blacksmith's hammer cooling.
Yusuf's beast limped over, fur singed, blood dripping plop-plop on the ground. Nneka's gauntlets sparked dead, her fingers trembling as she stared at the ruin.
Then Zara's hand went cold in his.
"No… no be today," Tobi rasped, voice raw like sandpaper on wood.
He carried her up, light oo light, her breath barely moved the air, the curse had stolen her sight, her strength, now her emi.
"If I lose her, wetin remain?"
A low thrum answered the Zuciya Kishi core, still beating in the cracked nexus heart, Dark Hungry.
It pulsed once.
Shadows bled from it like ink in water.
Guardian echoes flickered back half-formed, screaming, plasma arms reaching.
Tobi's eyes narrowed. Cold. Deadly.
"You wan round two?"
He stood, Zara cradled in one arm, threads coiling from the other like angry cobras.
Iron locked his grip.
Courage lit his eyes.
Plasma crackled at his fingertips.
For Zara. For Ife. For every soul envy touch.
He stepped forward.
The war of souls just dey start.