She didn't sleep.
They gave her a room—sterile, windowless, with a soft bed and untouched clothes folded on a chair. Like they expected her to stay. Like she already belonged to them.
But Kelechi sat on the edge of the mattress, knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped tight.
The scan kept flashing in her mind. The lesions. The white crosshatches on Seyi's brain. Silent damage. Uncaught.
She should've known.
She was trained for this. She should have seen the signs—the mood swings, the dizziness, the forgetfulness. She'd written them off as stress. Normal post-NYSC fatigue. Nothing dangerous.
But it was never nothing.
She dug her nails into her palms. A punishment. A reminder.
Seyi might be dying. And Kelechi had missed it.
⸻
The knock came at 4:23 a.m.
Soft. Not urgent.
She opened the door slowly.
It wasn't the suit.
It was someone younger. Taller. Dressed in black. Calm.
Male.
Sharp jaw. Clean-cut beard. Eyes too still.
He didn't smile. "You're awake."
"No thanks to you people," she muttered.
He stepped in without invitation and shut the door. "I'm here because I don't trust them."
Kelechi blinked. "Excuse me?"
He walked to the corner of the room and pulled something from his jacket. A phone. Unregistered. He handed it to her.
"Don't use it unless it's an emergency," he said. "They monitor everything in here."
"Who are you?" she asked, not taking it.
"Someone who shouldn't be talking to you." He paused. "But I've read your file. I know what you found. And I know why they want you."
She stared at him. "You're part of them. Aren't you?"
He didn't answer. Just looked at her with something almost like regret.
"They'll pretend to give you choices. But they don't believe in mercy. Just numbers. You stop being useful? You disappear."
"And you're what? The friendly neighborhood traitor?"
"I'm not your friend." His voice was flat. "But if you want to survive this, you'll need more than rage."
Kelechi stood, her hands curling into fists. "What do you want from me?"
He turned toward the door. "I want you to wake up. You're not in a war, Kelechi. You're in a machine. And it doesn't care who gets crushed."
She took the phone.
He left without another word.