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Promise
6 hrs agoChapter Three: The Archive and the Affair
By [Odoemenam promise]
The rain came uninvited that night.
It tapped the windows of Amara’s home like ghostly fingertips, chilling the silence that wrapped the house. The soft whir of her laptop was the only other sound, save the thunder rolling over the city like a warning.
She stared at the screen.hs
Project EUNOMA
Even the name felt cursed.
Amara hadn't touched it since university—a military-grade encryption system she had designed for a cybersecurity competition. It could scramble classified data in nanoseconds, render government files unreadable, even mimic system diagnostics to look “healthy” while being completely compromised. It was theoretical… until it wasn’t.
She never submitted it. Her supervisor had warned her: “Some projects are too dangerous for open hands.”
But now it was back. Someone had found it.
And if they knew it was real, they’d stop at nothing to get it.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She hesitated before answering.
“Hello?”
A voice—mechanized and genderless—crackled through the line.
> “You shouldn’t have opened that file. Now you’ve reopened the past.”
Click.
The call ended.
Her blood ran cold.
Amara backed up everything—her books, blogs, websites, and drafts—into a hardened virtual vault she’d coded herself. She changed passwords, doubled encryptions, and set traps across her admin dashboards.
She couldn’t afford to lose everything she’d built. Not again.
But there was still Chuka… and Tosin
The next morning, she made an untraceable copy of the Surulere video footage and ran facial recognition on the woman.
Match confirmed: Tosin George.
Returned from the U.S. eight months ago.
Hired recently as the financial lead for Chuka’s firm.
So it hadn’t just been an innocent hello.
That explained the sudden business trips. The late-night calls. The extra cologne.
Amara’s heart fractured anew, but she kept her face calm.
Later that afternoon, she returned to the Surulere district—not to spy, but to search.
The building across from Chuka’s office had a vacant space. She bribed the security guard and climbed to the rooftop with a pair of binoculars and a hacked frequency sniffer on her phone.
She tuned into wireless devices in the building—and found one unmarked signal hidden behind layers of spoofed addresses.
She cracked it.
A camera feed blinked open.
She froze.
It wasn’t just Tosin in the frame.
It was Chuka and Tosin, locked in a quiet conversation… about her.
> “She’s not stupid,” Tosin said. “She knows something.”
> Chuka exhaled. “Then we move faster. I just need a little more time. She won’t see it coming.”
Amara’s heart stopped.
What wouldn’t she see coming?
She nearly dropped the phone. She sat on the cold rooftop, wind howling around her, body trembling from a storm that wasn’t just in the sky.
And then she saw him again.
The same man from earlier—green cap, dark sunglasses.
He was standing in the alley below, looking up at the rooftop.
At her.
She ducked behind a vent. When she peeked again—he was gone.
Again.
Back home, she sat in her car for nearly thirty minutes before going inside.
Chuka was watching TV, casually flipping through channels, looking like the man she married. He smiled when she walked in. “You alright, babe?”
“Long fellowship,” she muttered, forcing a smile.
He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into him. His warmth made her sick now. His touch felt like a lie.
Inside, she screamed.
That night, she activated an old subroutine buried in her system. A dead man’s switch. If she didn’t deactivate it every 48 hours, her website would trigger a chain release—Project EUNOMA’s full design specs would be distributed anonymously to ten major tech forums around the world.
A safety net.
And a weapon.
But it was already too late.
In the morning, her website was down. Hacked.
She panicked, rushed to recover the backend—and found another message in plain text across her admin dashboard:
> Tick tock, Phoenix. Time to rise… or burn
To be continued…