The sound of fists colliding and metal clanking echoed across the sprawling training grounds. On a remote island hidden from prying eyes, Oba and Oluko were locked in a heated sparring session.
The compound was a massive hidden fortress tucked into the jungle coastline, carved from stone and reinforced with metal. Homes were built around a central arena, docks stretched into the mist-covered sea, and an old hangar served as storage for airships and equipment. But for Oba, the only thing that mattered now was the square of dirt beneath his boots, where his mentor was pushing him to his limit.
Sweat ran down his temples as he circled Oluko. His chest rose and fell rapidly, but his eyes were sharp, unyielding. He charged forward, feinting a left jab and pivoting into a sweeping low kick. Oluko stepped back with ease, but that's when Oba revealed his hand—literally.
His fingers sparked with a pale blue current, and in a smooth motion, he slammed his palm against the ground. Electricity pulsed beneath the surface, launching a small arc upward toward Oluko's legs.
Oluko leapt back just in time.
"New trick?"
He asked with a raised brow. Oba has never shown this technique before.
Oba's grin was breathless but proud.
"Been practicing on my own."
"You should've told me."
"And miss the surprise?"
Oba smirked, darting forward again.
This time, their exchange was a blur—kicks, punches, short bursts of lightning and parries. Oba's strikes were sharper than ever, his reflexes faster. But experience still had its edge. As Oba lunged again, Oluko snatched his wrist mid-air and twisted, forcing him off balance.
"You're still telegraphing your attacks. If I can read you, so can the enemy."
Oba dropped to the ground and flipped backward, landing in a low crouch.
"You said I've improved."
"You have."
Oluko admitted, loosening his stance.
"You're surprisingly as good as some grown men I've fought. But there's still a gap between raw skill and true readiness."
Oba's expression brightened with pride.
"So does that mean I can finally go on a job with you?"
"I'll think about it."
"You always say that."
"And I always mean it."
Oba stepped closer, insistence in his voice.
"I'm ready. You said I'm too smart and too strong for my age. You taught me. You're the strongest person I know!"
Oluko laughed deeply, reaching out to ruffle the boy's hair.
"I'm the only person you know."
Before Oba could fire back, another voice rang out, laced with amusement.
"And I'm the smartest person you know."
Angelise, Oluko's wife, emerged from the edge of the training grounds. Her hands rested on her hips, her sharp gaze both commanding and playful.
"Now stop arguing. It's time to eat."
Oba groaned but obeyed, wiping sweat from his face as he followed Oluko and Angelise toward the main house.
The day wasn't over. Tomorrow, the training would continue. But for now, the promise of a meal—and perhaps a new story from Oluko's mysterious past—was enough to keep Oba moving forward.
It had been five years since the fall of Kasar Jarumi. Five years since Oba—the former crown prince—was plucked from the ashes and hidden beneath a new identity. Under Oluko's guidance, he was introduced to the clandestine world of the Sheer: elite operatives skilled in espionage, sabotage, and survival in the shadows.
The team was small but formidable.
Leon, with his mastery of water, twisted liquid into whips, blades, or walls—turning fluid grace into ruthless offense.
Manuel, the trickster, fought with summoned weapons. His Bullet Time allowed him to manifest guns mid-motion, reacting to a fight as if reading ahead in a script.
Luther, the tactician, controlled technology with Code Manipulation. He saw angles no one else could, turning data into dominance.
And Angelise—psychic and unreadable—stood as the team's quiet storm. No one knew the full extent of her power, and no one dared to ask.
In this crucible, Oba trained daily—sharpening his body, refining his mind. He shed the innocence of royalty, forging something new from his grief and anger. Something resilient. Something dangerous.
---
The dining room buzzed with the quiet hum of conversation. Manuel leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips as he finished his meal. He turned his gaze to Oba, who was sitting a few seats down, quietly eating.
Before Manuel spoke any words Oba sat there in his own world. Reliving what transpired five years ago.
The air was heavy with smoke.
Oba stumbled through the marble corridor of the royal palace, bare feet slapping against blood-slicked floors. Screams echoed behind him. The scent of fire and ash filled his lungs. Shadows moved along the walls—the ajogun. Powerful radiants strong enough to pressure his father.
He remembered his Ezekiel's voice echoing in his head.
"Run, Oba. Don't look back."
He hadn't.
He remembered clutching his little satchel, the one with his books and a small dagger. He remembered tripping over a body—his school friend. He remembered Oluko finding him, carrying him through a secret passage out of the city. The last he saw of Kasar Jarumi was from the cliffs outside: flames rising from the palace like a funeral pyre.
The memory blinked away like smoke on the wind as Manuel brought him back.
"Hey, kid… I've been hearing you want to get in on a job."
Oba looked up, his expression calm but determined. Before he could respond, Oluko slammed his palm on the table, glaring at Manuel.
"Manny!"
Angelise, seated beside him, couldn't suppress a chuckle.
"KoKo."
"It's cute how much of a parent you're being. But let's not forget—Oba's right. You've said it yourself. He's stronger than he should be for his age."
"You may not have been his age, but remember the circumstances that got you into this business"
Oluko sighed heavily, rubbing his temples as he looked at the boy he had raised for the past five years.
"I guess I can't keep you away from this life forever."
Turning his gaze to Oba, Oluko's voice hardened.
"Listen, Oba. We are killers. We get paid to kill, to put ourselves in danger, and to make enemies."
"I understand."
Oba's eyes didn't flinch.
"You need to understand something else."
Oluko continued, leaning forward.
"To some we are villains—enough to be called La Mano Del Diablo."
"The Devil's Hand."
Manuel chimed in with a grin, swirling his drink.
"We execute the tasks given to us, and we do it in any way we see fit. Some of these people have families to go home. But… we just can't have them running aound."
Leon, who had been quietly listening, leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
"You're strong, right?"
"Yes."
Oba answered without hesitation.
"Strong enough to kill a man?"
Leon joined in on the test of the young boy. He was reserved on his interactions with Oba. Not that he did not like the boy, he was always unsure on how to interact with the child.
Oba said "yes" once again, his voice was unwavering.
Luther, sitting across the table, adjusted his glasses. He thoroughly enjoys Oba's company. He, along with Angelise, is responsible for Oba's education. He has done pretty well.
"It's been five years."
He said, his voice cool and analytical.
"You've been with us through it all. You've hunted with us, learn to fight from us, developed your education. And this… this is what you want?"
Oba nodded, his resolve shining through.
"Yes. If you think I'd rather be somewhere else, then you're mistaken."
Manuel let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. Manuel was something like a secondary father figure to Oba. He lost his own son to a fire not too long after he was born. Oba was great company for him.
"Look at him—doesn't even talk like a kid anymore."
He grinned at Oluko.
"Well, it's your call, boss."
Oluko exhaled deeply, his shoulders relaxing slightly.
"Okay, Oba… but only on one condition."
"Anything."
"You do as I say, when I say it,"
"Unless your own judgment says otherwise. Do you understand me?"
"I understand,"
Oba replied, his voice was firm and sure of his decision.
Leon glanced at Luther, a sly grin spreading across his face.
"Did you hear that? 'I understand,'"
Leon could help but to chuckle of mocking Oba.
"I love this kid. Who would've thought the little kid Oluko brought in would turn out like this?"
The room filled with soft laughter, but beneath it all was an unspoken understanding—Oba was no longer the boy they had taken in. He was one of them now.
Angelise rose from her seat with a graceful yet commanding presence, her sharp gaze locking onto Oba. The room grew quiet, the air heavy with anticipation.
"Step outside, Oba."
Her tone left no room for an argument.
The others exchanged glances, intrigued. Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone stood and began to follow Angelise and Oba outside.
The training ground was vast, the cool evening breeze rustling through the trees that bordered the open space. Angelise turned to face Oba, her expression unreadable but her posture exuding authority.
"What's with the look?"
She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I hope you didn't think it was going to be that easy to enter our world."
Oba hesitated, caught off guard by her sudden challenge.
"I… I just didn't expect it to be you."
He had no choice but to admit, his voice was steady despite his confusion.
Angelise's lips curled into a sly smile.
"That's the thing, baby boy. Expect the unexpected."
Before Oba could process her words, she attacked.
Her movements were swift and precise, a blur of psychic energy crackling in the air as she tested Oba's reflexes. Oba barely managed to evade her first strike, the force of her attack leaving a small crater in the ground where he had just stood.
Oba steadied himself, his heart racing.
The fight began in earnest. Angelise was relentless, her psychic powers manifesting as invisible strikes and bursts of force that kept Oba on his toes. Despite her overwhelming advantage, Oba fought back with everything he had, utilizing his training and innate abilities to keep up with her.
Every time he was knocked down, he got back up, his resolve unshaken. Angelise's strikes grew fiercer, but Oba refused to back down.
Finally, with one last powerful blow, Angelise knocked Oba to the ground, pinning him with a psychic force that left him breathless. She stood over him, her expression softened but still firm.
"You didn't win, but you didn't back down either. That's what matters."
Oba took her hand and rose to his feet, panting but unbroken.
On the sidelines, Luther leaned closer to Leon and Manuel, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Are we sure this kid is really a kid? I think we created a monster"
Leon let out a hearty laugh, slapping Manuel on the back.
"I feel like we're just as surprised as you."
Manuel nodded, a grin spreading across his face.
"But think about it—he's from the same country as Oluko. Maybe it's just in their blood."
The group watched as Oba stood tall despite his exhaustion, his determination shining through. This was no ordinary child—they all knew that now.
Manuel leaned against the wall, swirling his glass.
"Still hard to believe what happened."
Oluko stiffened, his voice sharp.
"A certain man was there for his family, that's what happened."
He turned and walked off without another word.
Leon placed a hand on Manuel's shoulder.
"You know that's a touchy subject, man. Let it go."
Manuel sighed.
"I wasn't trying to trigger the man. He just carries too much of this alone."
"He gives that old man a hard time"
Oba, overhearing, ran after Oluko.
"Wait! You're wrong!"
Oluko didn't stop.
"Am I?"
"You don't know what happened. Neither of us were there. How can you keep blaming my grandfather?"
Oluko halted, his shoulders tense.
"You think I don't know that? That's the worst part. He never is there, and I sat here not even knowing all of that was going on."
Oba couldn't help but to step in.
"Stop blaming him!"
"You've always said he suddenly disappeared but you know he's alive. So do you even know what he's been going through?"
"That's easy for you to say, you hardly know him. He was like my best friend."
"You're judging him without knowing the truth!"
Oba kept pressing.
"You've said it yourself, he was a good man, but something suddenly changed. Then use your common sense Oluko!"
Oba pushed even further.
"Don't forget, you left too."
Oluko turned, startled. The boy's words hit deeper than he expected. After a moment, he sighed.
"I've thought about that, but I can't forgive myself for not being there. Maybe I could've made a difference."
Angelise approached, her tone calm but firm.
"Oluko, you're here now. And I promised I'd help you find the answers."
Oluko nodded slowly, the anger in his eyes softening into pain.
"I just need to know why."
Oba stepped closer.
"Maybe it's time to stop blaming the people you love and start focusing on the truth."
For a moment, Oluko studied him before a faint smile broke through.
"You're too wise for your age, kid. Just like your father."
The truth is Jide, Oba's grandfather, the King before Oga, went missing for some time. There has been no trace of a death or anything similar. To the country he just vanished. Oluko always had some special connection with Jide, so he knew he was alive and well. Oluko felt abandoned by the man he looked up to and eventually developed disdain for Jide. It only deepened after the attack on Kasar. The funny thing is that Oba has never met Jide, he has only heard stories.
Later that night Angelise stood beside Oluko on the balcony.
"He's almost ready."
"Almost isn't enough."
Oluko murmured.
"Not for what's coming."
"He's not the same little boy anymore."
"He's still my boy."
Angelise reached for his hand.
"Then help him become the man he's meant to be."
---
The next morning. The meeting room was dimly lit, the glow from the blue holographic map casted a shadow on the walls. Oba sat near the edge of the round table, watching the others as they focused intently on the mission briefing. At the head of the table stood Oluko ready to brief his team on their next job.
"Kiraht, one of the few cities built on the wealth of medicine. We all know that it is home of the medicinal powerhouse, BioPower"
Oluko adjusted the hologram to bring up a picture of the CEO of BioPower
"This is Dren Marik, the CEO and head researcher for BioPower. His research is suspected to target the vulnerable people throughout the world. Our job is to bring in Marik under the impression that he has been kidnapped. Intel isn't a priority, but the Federation will make us of any gathered intel."
"The company has been reportedly funded heavily by Valoria, so the intel priority is to find any connections."
Luther stepped in to explain his roles for everyone.
"Oluko, Angelise, and Manuel will spearhead the infiltration of the building. Leon will keep our exfil clear, and I will keep surveillance and monitor their systems."
He looked to Oba.
"Oba, you will also keep surveillance, but you will be on the streets. Your job is to find anything leading to the research facility."
Oluko stood before Oba, holding a small object wrapped in cloth.
"Oba, while our group is well-known, our identities are not."
"Each of us comes from a background where our people traditionally wear masks for special occasions. It's a way to honor our roots and keep who we are hidden."
Angelise stepped forward, holding a hand crafted mask in her hands.
"Oluko took his time making this mask for you, he started working on it two years ago."
Oba's eyes widened in surprise. His grin broke through almost instantly as he threw his arms around Oluko in a tight hug.
"Thank you."
"The king had a mask similar to that. Seems fitting for the prince, don't you think?"
Oba turned to face the others.
"It's more than perfect, when do we start this job?"
Oluko's smile turned into a knowing smirk.
"Tomorrow."