The SUV wasn't a fancy government vehicle. As the blinding headlights dimmed, Amina realized it was a blacked-out Toyota Corolla the unofficial uniform of every undercover operative in Lagos.
Four men stepped out. They weren't wearing suits; they wore faded jeans, tactical vests, and face masks that muffled their breathing. One held a device that looked like a modified POS machine, but it was clicking rapidly, its screen flashing a violent violet color.
"Surge is at 8.9," the man with the device said. His voice was deep, gravelly, and carried a thick Onitsha accent. "The Void-Seeker almost tore the veil here."
"Tunde, stay behind me," Amina whispered, though her own knees were knocking together. The blue fire in her palms had died down, leaving her fingers numb and smelling like burnt hair.
The lead operative stepped over the remains of their front door. He pulled down his mask, revealing a face mapped with deep scars. He looked less like a soldier and more like a man who had survived a thousand bar fights with ghosts.
"Madam, put your hands down," the man said, pointing a finger at Amina. "The more you leak that Aether, the more of those things you pull to Mowe. You want the whole street to disappear?"
Tunde finally found his voice, though it was high-pitched and cracked. "Who are you people? You just drove into my compound! Look at my door! Who is going to pay for this door?"
The scarred man looked at Tunde, then back at Amina. He let out a dry, mocking laugh. "Typical. The Vessel is always the one worried about the door while his soul is being auctioned in the Aether."
He turned to his team. "Secure the perimeter. Spray the salt-mercury mix on the walls. I don't want any 'shadow-leaks' for the next hour."
"Wait," Amina stepped forward, her voice gaining strength. "You're the Bureau? You know what I am?"
"We call it the National Office of Ethereal Research," the man said, pulling out a battered ID card that had a coat of arms she didn't recognize. "But the street call us 'The Cleaners.' I'm Inspector Okoro. And you, Mrs. Amina, are currently the most dangerous woman in Ogun State."
Okoro walked to the kitchen table and picked up the blackened jasmine petal. He cursed under his breath, dropping it into a lead-lined pouch.
"You brought a physical catalyst back from the Other Side," Okoro said, his eyes narrowing. "That's a Level 4 violation of the Reality Act. Do you have any idea how many people die when a Parallel Bridge collapses in a residential area?"
"I didn't choose this!" Amina snapped. "I was just cooking rice!"
"The Aether doesn't care about your rice," Okoro replied. He looked at Tunde, who was slumped on the sofa, head in his hands. "And it doesn't care about your husband's sanity. But the Void-Seekers do. They want the 'Star-Core' inside him. If they get it, they don't just kill him they use his soul to rewrite the history of this world. In that version of reality, Lagos doesn't exist. You don't exist."
Tunde looked up, his face pale. "My soul? I... I just work at the bottling plant. I'm nobody."
Okoro walked over and patted Tunde's shoulder with a heavy, armored hand. "In this world, you are a nobody who owes three months' rent. but in the Aether, you are the battery for a god. And the battery is running low."
He turned back to Amina. "Pack a bag. Five minutes. We're taking you to the Safe House in Ikeja."
"No," Amina said firmly. "I'm not going anywhere with people who just broke into my house."
Okoro leaned in, his shadow looming over her. "The Void-Seeker said three days, right? He lied. They always lie to make you relaxed. They're coming back in three hours. And next time, they won't just bring shadows. They'll bring the 'Hollow-King.' If you stay here, Mowe becomes a graveyard by midnight."
Outside, a dog started howling a sound that was cut short by a sickening metallic crunch.
Amina looked at Tunde. He looked back at her, terrified, but for the first time in years, he reached out and took her hand. His palm was sweaty and shaking, but the connection was there.
"We go together," Tunde whispered.
"Five minutes," Okoro repeated, checking his watch. "And Amina? Leave the burnt rice. Where we're going, you're going to need a lot more than jollof to stay alive."