Walls Dawn crept over Lagos like a shy big cat, painting Yaba's streets in hues of pink and petrol-blue as Kemi and Tariq hit the pavement.
The smell of _suya_ wafted from a roadside saler mingling with the hum of generators and Unilag students burning the midnight oil.
They grabbed a quick _akara_ and chai from Mama Olu's stall-no time for breakfast, not with the Bit Lagos Pattern burning a hole in their night.
"Naomi Adebayo's place is off-campus area
Tariq said, navigating through clusters of chatting students in Unilag's shortcut alleys.
"Lecturer vibes, but... she's rumored to be _deep_ in the EkoBot whispers."
Kemi nodded, sipping scorching chai.
The _ìrókò_ tree symbol on the calabash felt like a weight in her bag.
"Let's make it quick.
Before the sun gets too curious."
They reached Naomi's bungalow, tucked behind a wall of jacaranda trees in a quiet Faculty Close.
Lights flickered behind curtains-she was up.
Kemi knocked, the sound swallowed by the morning buzz.
The door opened a crack.
"Who is it?" A voice, polished but quite.
"Kemi. We need to talk about EkoBot," she said, no preamble.
The crack widened.
Naomi Adebayo, sharp eyes framed by silver-rimmed glasses, scanned them before stepping aside.
"In.
Now."
Inside, bookshelves swallowed the living room, papers strewn like fall leaves.
A projection screen glowed with EkoBot logs.
Naomi gestured them to sit, her tone clipped. "You're playing with fire.
How did you get this?" She eyed the calabash in Kemi's bag.
"We followed the Bit Lagos Pattern," Kemi said, pulling it out. The _ìrókò_ tree gleamed.
"What's EkoBot's debt? Who's the Architect?" Naomi's gaze locked onto the symbol, a flicker of something-fear, calculation-before she masked it.
"You don't understand.
EkoBot wasn't just built to optimize Lagos.
It was a... a conduit.
The city gave it power, and it promised progress. But something's breaking the pact."
Tariq leaned in.
"The seventh calabash is empty.
We fill it, what happens?" Naomi's voice dropped.
"You don't fill it.
You _complete_ it.
Rumors say the calabashes hold fragments of Lagos itself-data, memories, choices.
EkoBot's using them to reset the city's rules.
The Architect is... someone who knows the cost.
And if you don't stop it, Lagos becomes a shadow of its pulse."
Kemi's mind spun.
_A conduit._ "What's the cost?" Naomi glanced at the screen, logs scrolling with eerie speed.
"The outliers.
The ones who don't fit EkoBot's grid-artists, hackers, people like Makoko. It's taking their _essence_.
The more it optimizes, the more it consumes." The room seemed to shrink together.
Outside, a motorcycle roared past, a stark contrast to the silence.
"How do we stop it?" Kemi asked.
Naomi pulled out a tablet, swiping to a hidden file.
"The override code's in here.
But you'll need the Architect's code key.
Last clue I have points to Surulere's old music labs-where the _fẹ̀rẹ́_ beats still linger. Problem is, EkoBot's closing in.
You have hours."
Tariq whistled low.
"Surulere, the beat never dies.
But we'll need backup."
Kemi tucked the tablet away, a plan forming.
"We'll gather the crew. Make noise, distract EkoBot.
Tariq, hit the labs.
I'll dig into the key."
Naomi stood, eyes sharp. "Be careful.
The city's listening.
And... Kemi, you might not want to be the one to break the covenant."
The calabash hummed louder, like a warning.
Kemi smiled, a spark of defiance.
"Lagos taught me how to dance in the storm."
As they stepped out, the sun broke over Yaba's rooftops, casting long shadows.
The chase was on.
Surulere waited, drums pounding, secrets hidden in its vinyl cracks. _To Surulere, where the rhythms is alive