BACK TO GOLGOTHA
Chapter Forty-Six: The Price of the Veil
The first light of dawn struggled to rise over Ikare.
It was a weak sunrise, pale and uncertain, as though the sun itself had witnessed the violence of the night and now approached cautiously. Thin strands of fog crawled through the empty streets, wrapping around buildings and trees like silent witnesses.
Inside the abandoned compound, Stephen Dagunduro slowly opened his eyes.
Pain greeted him immediately.
Not the ordinary pain of fatigue, but a deep burning in his chest and veins, as if his body had been used as a channel for something far greater than it was designed to hold.
Which, in truth, it had.
The Blood Ritual had worked. The Veil had awakened more fully. The Ancients beneath the land had recoiled.
But victory had not come without a price.
Stephen sat upright slowly, his muscles trembling from exhaustion. The ritual circle remained faintly visible on the floor, dark stains marking where their blood had fallen.
Favour was asleep against the wall nearby, her Bible still resting in her lap. Her face looked pale but peaceful, the calm of someone who had fought hard and trusted God with the outcome.
Stephen watched her quietly.
Without her, he might not have survived the ritual.
The Veil stirred faintly within him again, no longer wild and explosive like the night before, but quieter now—watchful.
Like a guardian that had finally recognized its host.
Stephen inhaled slowly.
But something felt wrong.
The darkness had retreated.
Yet it had not disappeared.
A New Silence
Stephen stepped outside the compound.
The town was waking slowly. A few distant voices could be heard. Someone swept a roadside. A motorcycle engine sputtered to life far away.
Normal sounds.
But beneath them, Stephen sensed an unsettling stillness.
The spiritual pressure that had suffocated Ikare for days was gone.
Too suddenly.
Stephen frowned.
"Why would Baba Dagunduro pull back now?" he murmured.
Behind him, the door creaked.
Favour stepped out, rubbing her eyes slightly.
"You feel it too," she said.
Stephen nodded.
"The darkness has withdrawn."
Favour looked around the quiet street.
"That should be good news."
Stephen shook his head slowly.
"No," he said. "This feels like… preparation."
The Gathering
Miles away, deep within the valley chamber, Baba Dagunduro stood before a massive stone altar carved directly into the rock floor.
But the chamber looked different now.
Larger.
Deeper.
Because the ground itself had cracked open.
The serpent that Stephen had wounded the previous night now coiled around the edges of the altar, its massive body resting in the shadows. Its red eyes glowed dimly with restrained fury.
Around the chamber stood dozens of initiates—far more than before.
Men and women from towns across the region.
Some politicians.
Some spiritual leaders.
Some ordinary citizens.
All bound now to the same darkness.
Oyekunle stepped forward carefully.
"Master," he said quietly, "Stephen survived the ritual. The Veil has awakened further."
Baba Dagunduro smiled slowly.
"Good."
The initiates shifted uneasily.
Good?
Oyekunle hesitated.
"But master… the Ancients retreated when the Veil surged. Should we not strike immediately before he grows stronger?"
Baba Dagunduro turned, his ancient eyes glowing faintly.
"You still think like a soldier," he said.
Then he gestured toward the serpent.
"That creature was never meant to kill Stephen."
The initiates froze.
"It was meant to measure him."
The serpent's massive head lifted slightly.
"And now," Baba Dagunduro continued softly, "we know the truth."
He placed his hand on the altar.
"The boy carries not just the Veil."
"He carries the Gate."
Back in Ikare
Stephen walked slowly along the road with Favour beside him.
Children had begun to reappear outside houses. Shop doors creaked open. Life cautiously returned to the town.
Yet Stephen could still feel something beneath the ground.
Not moving.
Waiting.
Favour noticed his tension.
"You're still troubled."
Stephen nodded.
"The serpent said something before it retreated."
Favour looked at him.
"What?"
Stephen's voice lowered.
"It said the Ancients recognized my blood."
Favour stopped walking.
"That means your father…"
Stephen's jaw tightened.
"My father didn't just study the Veil."
"He was connected to it."
They stood silently for a moment.
Then a sudden scream echoed down the street.
Stephen and Favour turned instantly.
The scream came from the church.
They ran.
The First Victim
Inside the church, chaos had erupted.
Several people had gathered for early morning prayer.
Now they were backed against the walls in terror.
At the center of the room stood a young man.
His body shook violently.
Dark veins crawled across his neck and arms.
His eyes were completely black.
Stephen slowed as he entered.
"This isn't possession," he whispered.
Favour's face tightened.
"Then what is it?"
The young man lifted his head slowly.
And smiled.
But the smile was not his.
It was something older.
Something colder.
Then he spoke.
But three voices came out at once.
"Stephen Dagunduro."
The church trembled slightly.
Stephen stepped forward cautiously.
"Who are you?"
The voices laughed softly.
"We are what wakes when blood calls."
Stephen felt the Veil react immediately.
The young man's body jerked violently as if something inside him struggled against the light.
Then the voices spoke again.
"You have delayed the awakening."
"But you cannot stop it."
The young man suddenly collapsed to his knees.
His skin began to crack like dry clay.
Stephen rushed forward but stopped abruptly.
The Veil pulsed with warning.
"Don't touch him," he said quickly.
Favour stepped back.
"Why?"
Stephen's voice dropped.
"Because he's not alive anymore."
The young man's body twisted suddenly.
Then from inside his chest…
Something moved.
The congregation screamed.
A thin black shape burst through the cracked skin and slithered onto the church floor.
A smaller serpent.
But its eyes glowed the same red.
Stephen stepped forward instantly.
"Leave this place!"
The Veil exploded outward.
Light slammed into the creature.
It shrieked violently before disintegrating into black ash.
The young man's body fell still.
Dead.
Silence filled the church.
Favour covered her mouth in horror.
Stephen looked down at the body, his heart heavy.
"They've changed tactics."
The New Strategy
Outside the church, Stephen stood in the sunlight, his mind racing.
Favour joined him slowly.
"What just happened?"
Stephen's voice was grim.
"Baba Dagunduro can't break the Veil directly."
"So he's using people."
Favour's face tightened.
"As vessels?"
Stephen nodded.
"Not possession."
"Incubation."
The word hung in the air.
"The serpents are planting fragments of themselves inside human hosts," Stephen continued.
"When the host breaks… the creature is born."
Favour's hands trembled slightly.
"That means there could be dozens of them."
Stephen looked toward the horizon.
"Hundreds."
The Weight of Leadership
Later that afternoon, Stephen returned to the compound.
He sat alone, reading through more of his father's journals.
One passage caught his eye.
"The Veil protects the carrier, but it also attracts ancient enemies. When the Gate awakens, darkness will attempt to enter the world through blood, fear, and broken souls."
Stephen froze.
"The Gate…"
He whispered the words slowly.
Suddenly the realization struck him like lightning.
Baba Dagunduro wasn't trying to destroy him.
He was trying to use him.
The Veil wasn't just power.
It was access.
Access to something ancient buried beneath the earth.
Stephen leaned back, his heart pounding.
If Baba Dagunduro forced the Veil open fully…
The Ancients would not merely rise.
They would cross over.
And the world above would become their territory.
Stephen clenched his fists slowly.
"Not while I breathe."
A New Resolve
Favour entered quietly.
"You've been reading for hours."
Stephen looked up.
"I finally understand Baba Dagunduro's plan."
Her expression darkened.
"And?"
Stephen stood slowly.
"He's not fighting me."
"He's preparing me."
Favour frowned.
"For what?"
Stephen's voice hardened.
"For the moment the Gate opens."
Silence filled the room.
Favour stepped closer.
"Then we make sure that moment never comes."
Stephen looked at the fading sunlight outside.
The Veil stirred again.
Stronger now.
More stable.
But also more dangerous.
"Yes," he said quietly.
"We stop him."
"Before the earth itself betrays us."
Far away, thunder rolled across the distant hills.
The storm had returned.
And this time…
It was coming directly for Stephen.
"No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn."
— Isaiah 54:17