Ahia woke up to the sound of screaming glass.
She scrambled off her cot, her heart hammering against her ribs. The lingering warmth of the golden wheat field in Zamani was gone, replaced by a biting cold that seeped into her bones. The air in her small room didn't smell like loam and flowers anymore. It smelled of sulfur and wet ash.
Iku.
"Gardener!" the cactus on her shelf shrieked mentally, its psychic voice jagged with terror. "The Eaters are here!"
CRASH.
The heavy wooden door to her living quarters splintered inward.
Ahia threw herself backward, scrambling over her workbench just as a clawed hand slashed through the space where her head had been a second ago.
She looked up and froze.
Standing in the doorway was a nightmare made flesh. It was an Asura. Its skin was as white as salt, stark against the darkness. Its hair was a shock of blood-red wool, and its eyes were beady, black voids. But it was the mouth that paralyzed her—a shark's maw of serrated teeth that stretched too wide for a human face.
It didn't roar. It didn't threaten. It simply smiled, a reflex of pure, mechanical malice.
"Found one," it rasped. Its voice sounded like grinding stones.
"Get back!" Ahia shouted, grabbing the Kwaya bell from the table. She rang it frantically. Chime-Chime-Chime!
The Ase in the room surged. The Lumen-Vine on her desk lashed out, whipping its thick tendrils around the Asura's neck. The plant glowed violently, tightening its grip with crushing force.
The Asura didn't even blink. It reached up, grabbed the glowing vine, and squeezed.
Black smoke—the sloppy, slimy sludge of Iku—oozed from the creature's palm. The vine hissed as the entropy rotted it instantly, turning the vibrant green stem into gray dust in seconds.
"Pretty weed," the Asura mocked, stepping over the pile of ash. "But Iku eats Ase, little meat."
Ahia backed against the window. There was nowhere to run. Outside, she could see more pale shapes moving through the rows of Midnight Tubers, slashing and destroying the crop not out of hunger, but out of joy.
She was a Manomi. She grew things. She didn't know how to stop things that only knew how to end.
The Imperial Palace – The Hall of Echoes
"Stand aside, Vhuthu."
Libaax Akoma's voice was low, vibrating with a dangerous infrasound that shook the dust from the tapestries. His Blue Aura was flaring so bright it was hard to look at him directly.
Blocking the grand archway leading to the royal hangars stood Vhuthu Hiwot. She looked deceptively small against the backdrop of the Abambowa guards in their Egungun masquerade armor, but her presence was a wall of iron.
"My Lord," Vhuthu said, her voice smooth and unhurried. She adjusted the Iborun on her shoulder. "The Captain tells me you ordered a gunship to the Outer Districts. At this hour?"
"I said move," Libaax snarled. He could feel Ahia. The Heart-Echo was screaming in his chest—a sharp, stabbing pain of terror that wasn't his own. She was terrified. She was cornered. "There is a breach in the Agricultural Wing. I am going to handle it."
"A breach?" Vhuthu raised an eyebrow. Her Orange Aura flickered with suspicion. "If there is a breach, we send the Ibutho. We send the Iyakar-Tsaro. The Servitor Supreme does not fly into a skirmish in his nightclothes to save a patch of yams."
"It is not about the yams!" Libaax stepped forward, his hand clenching into a fist. The air around him crackled.
"Then what is it about?" Vhuthu stepped forward to meet him, her eyes locking onto his. "You wake up shouting. You demand a ship. Your Ase is churning like a sea storm. You are compromised, Libaax."
"I am the King of kings!"
"You are a danger to yourself!" Vhuthu snapped, her facade of calm cracking. "The High Table cannot allow the sovereign to rush into an ambush based on a... a bad dream!
"Think, man! If the Asuras are attacking the food supply, it is a diversion. If you leave the Palace, you leave the heart of the Empire unguarded. Is that what you want? To abandon your people for a whim?"
Libaax halted. The logic of the Nommo system—the formal logic adopted from Dibia mysticism, that governed the empire—warred with his heart. If he admitted he was going to save one specific woman, a woman he had no political reason to know, Vhuthu would realize the truth. She would know about the Ifunanya event.
And if the High Table knew he had bonded with a Home level princess, Ahia wouldn't just be targeted by Asuras. She would be targeted by the state.
He grit his teeth so hard they ached. He was the most powerful man in the world, and he was paralyzed by protocol.
The Outer Districts
The window glass shattered behind Ahia as she tried to force it open. It was jammed.
The Asura lunged.
Ahia dropped to the floor, rolling under its strike. The creature's claws gouged deep furrows into the wooden wall.
"Help!" she screamed, though she knew no one was coming. The Manomi barracks were isolated. The guards were at the perimeter.
The Asura grabbed her by the ankle.
Its grip was like ice—absolute zero. The cold burned through her skin. She kicked out, her heel connecting with its jaw, but it felt like kicking a boulder.
"Spirited," the monster hissed, dragging her back toward the center of the room. It loomed over her, drool dripping from its shark-like teeth. "Your fear... it has a flavor. Green. Tart. Delicious.".
It raised a clawed hand, the fingers dripping with the black smoke of Iku.
"Let's see what color your soul is when I RIP IT OPEN!"
Ahia squeezed her eyes shut. She reached out with her mind, screaming into the Dapabie, screaming down the golden thread that connected her to the only person who might hear.
Libaax!
The Imperial Palace
Libaax staggered. The mental scream hit him like a physical blow.
Vhuthu watched him stumble, her eyes narrowing. "Libaax?"
He looked up. The blue fire in his eyes had gone cold. It was replaced by something much darker.
"I am not asking for permission, Vhuthu," Libaax said. His voice was no longer thunder. It was the quiet before the tsunami.
He raised his hand. The Ase in the corridor suddenly grew heavy, pressing down on everyone's shoulders.
"If you do not move," he whispered, "I will move you."
Vhuthu's Orange Aura flared in defense, but she took a step back. She had never seen him look like this. This wasn't a King debating policy. This was a force of nature about to break the world.