Book 28: The Eden Conference

Chapter 1 | Sin and Dust

Where two or three are gathered together… behold, there will I be in the midst of them.

June 17, 2022 - 7:38pm

Maitama, Abuja, Nigeria

Wreathed in flames and anointed with his parents’ ashes, the Devil's Own rigidly stumbled out of the burning wreckage of his home naked but otherwise unharmed. Though his family had since succumbed to the heat, their cries could almost be heard among the tireless groan of car horns just outside the compound.

Abuja never seemed to quiet down, the city still brimming with life on this exceptionally warm Saturday night. As rising smoke camouflaged itself against the night sky, the fire’s hisses and roars dared the boy to turn around and look at what he’d done.

“Murderer…” It whispered.

He stared ahead into the void, his mind searching for frantic escape from reality.

“Mom…Dad…I’m sorry…”

~

3 Days Earlier - 11:00am

Unknown, Abuja, Nigeria

Surrounded by acres of tropical trees, a massive, erroneously placed building stood proud; a bright white eyesore encroaching on cascading tones of green and brown. A single, yellow school bus inched up the hill, the pedestal upon which this research facility was perched.

Finally coming to the end of the winding gravel path, and onto the edge of an expensively laden parking lot, the bus hissed open, expelling a dozen unenthusiastic teenagers. A tall, slender woman waited for the group to assemble. She wore a white blouse with a cream colored pencil skirt. Her obnoxiously blonde hair was tied neatly in a bun, forgiving two strands that framed her classically pretty face.

One by one, the Grade 12 students of Milanuro High trickled out of a cramped steel cage, muttering amongst themselves.

Among the last of these seniors, a short, dark-haired boy, Franklin, rolled his eyes in boredom as his sneakers crunched gravel. He let out a soft groan with a demeanor no more remarkable than that of his classmates. A small brown hand suddenly pushed him gently, catching him off guard.

“Move, slowpoke,” Farah Durrani, a small Pakistani girl made taller by towers of attitude, nudged him with a smirk. She stepped off the bus daintily, rushing ahead of the boy and, with a raised eyebrow, silently suggested that he mimic her pace.

“Farah!” A boyish voice called out, belonging to a mess of dark, stubby locs, contrasted by a toothy white grin.

“Give me back my phone!” He shouted, paying no mind to the interruption of the field trip guide’s opening statements. Farah grinned and skipped towards the rest of her classmates. The boy hit the ground running, but Franklin’s gentle grip around his forearm pulled him backwards.

“Calm down, Soji. She’ll get it back to you real soon.” Franklin smiled mischievously, flashing an iPhone with a pink Hello Kitty phone case.

“When did youー” Soji laughed, “Nevermind. An eye for an eye, I suppose.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at his unnoticed pun. Suddenly, a cool voice, the last remaining student on the bus, quelled the trio's games.

“You’re not funny.” As he stepped off the bus, the dark-skinned boy with silver-white cornrows took extra care to avoid a spiraling ring of ants marching after one another. There was faint amusement on his face as he guided his friends to the group with a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Yes I am…” Soji muttered to himself.

~

Inside the vast research facility, the trip guide, joined by a lethargic chaperoning teacher, led the group of highschool seniors through its highly technological interior owned by the Maestro’s Institute of Innovation. Women and men wearing surgically white lab coats paid no attention to their visitors, as though hypnotized by the incomprehensible projects they meticulously pored over. Their attire matched the interior of the building, stunning newcomers, and blinding outsiders from its monochrome luxury.

“As I’m sure you all know, the Institute is a multi-faceted conglomerate that leads the world in technological innovation, and is renowned for their efforts in solving global issues. And all of it is only possible with the hard work and sacrifices of those who seek to better our world,” the woman explained, too proud to notice the overbearing weight of boredom crushing the group of teenagers.

“This is such a waste of a morning,” Franklin groaned quietly, not realizing he spoke out loud.

“Don’t be like that,” Soji nudged Franklin, “how ever will you join one of the M.I.I.'s elite universities if you can’t pay attention to a little tour?” he continued.

The boy couldn’t help but let globules of sarcasm ooze into the last of his words, mocking their teachers’ earlier address on the expected decency and decorum.

“Oh please,” Franklin said, “the entrance exam at the end of these trips is so hard that entire classes have failed. My fate has already been determined. And besides, it’s not like I care about that,” he waved away the notion, feigning nonchalance.

“Sure you don’t.” Farah said, “Pretend all you want, but between you, me and Kuro,” She gestured ahead to the white-haired boy, “you can’t stand the idea of not being first.”

“Hey, why’d you leave me out? I’m top of the class too! I’m smarter than these other idiots.”

“Soji, don’t be rude, those are your people,” the girl replied.

“Fuck you!”

“You wish.”

“SHHHH!” A nearby student dampened the kids’ pitchy argument.

“You wish,” Farah said again with a whisper.

“I do not. Kuro, Franklin, you’re just gonna let her lie on my name like that?”

“You do have the worst grades out of all of us. But aside from that, we should be paying attention. The tour might contain something relevant.” Kuro’s voice was gentle, uninterested in their play.

“Or,” Franklin’s tone was drenched in mischief, “we can go check out that room marked ‘Advanced Weaponry’.”

The group collectively sighed.

“Come on guys, I saw a floating spear! And if you think about it, I’m doing this for you. When I get in, I’ll see stuff like that all the time, you guys only get this one chance.”

Farah rolled her eyes.

“There he is. ‘I don’t care’ my ass! Whatever, I’ll go if Soji goes. At least then I can say he roped me into this.”

“I’m not some delinquent you can just pin things on.” Soji had the mind to mutter a final, colorful, word under his breath, still drawing a raised eyebrow from Farah whose eyes dared him to speak up.

“This isn’t a good idea. Let’s just stay focused.” Kuro once again tried to be the voice of reason.

Franklin groaned in response, rolling his eyes and gesturing for the rest of their mischievous quartet to turn attention back to the field trip guide. Despite the listless stream of accolades she had for the Institute, her words carried along the attention of the agitated group of teenagers, distracting them from an iridescent blue mist slowly slowly starting to form inches above the ground.

Meanwhile, Franklin’s mind paddled lazily against the current, instead wandering to memories of the times he would spy on his brother tinkering with self-made gadgets in his room. The older boy would look up and shut the door, its latch softly murmuring ‘wait and see’ with a click. And now that he had done his fair share of waiting, Franklin was eager to see what it meant to be a part of the Institute. What was his brother building? What kind of position did he have? What amazing creations had he seen? Questions whose potential answers pricked his skin, and made his hairs stand on end with anticipation.

“Soon.”

Suddenly, a flitting movement snapped Franklin’s focus to his feet where he watched a small, deep purple daisy pop out of an uncharacteristic crack in an otherwise perfect floor. The flower seemed to stare at him for a moment before it sprayed glittering mist in his direction.

“What the—?” It was then that he noticed the rising fog and the crowd around him starting to murmur. More flowers popped out of crevices around the building; the walls, the floors, and the ceilings all adorned with matching flora.

“What’s going on?!”

“Is this part of the presentation?”

“What is this stuff?”

“I can’t breathe.”

The open space erupted into panic as both the field trip guide and the kids’ homeroom teacher attempted to calm them. Technicians around the room barked orders and ran around frantically trying to organize a retreat outside through the main exit. Upon meeting its glass door, however, they were shocked to find writhing tree branches holding it steadfast. Soji and Kuro held their hands over their noses, with the dark-haired boy grabbing a stunned Franklin’s shoulder to call his attention.

“We can’t stay here!” Soji’s shrill voice rang out, barely audible over the cacophonic orchestra of screams and shouts around them. Franklin remained rooted in place. Without warning, Farah lunged at him from behind, just missing him as Soji pulled the boy away from her and out of his paralysis.

“Farah, what are you—?” He stopped as he realized that something was wrong with the girl. She looked sick, her skin leathery and gray with visibly glowing orange veins. Her eyes were pale red discs, leaking deep crimson tears. Threads of a cloth-like material floated around her head as they slowly knitted a skin-tight bag up to her scalp. She shuddered as she approached the boys, groaning unintelligibly. Kuro stepped forward, kicking her face, and launching her into a forming crowd of similar creatures.

“Run!” The boys followed Kuro’s lead while chaos unfurled around them. He showed off his anomalous physical strength, smacking away the bloomed students as they lunged at him.

“Wait!” Franklin called as they rushed past a hallway.

Soji and Kuro glanced back at him as he pointed down the hallway marked ‘Advanced Weaponry’. The two shared a look before following him down the red-illuminated hall. Several strange-looking instruments were locked away behind glass containers embedded in the walls.

Behind them, a crowd of these blooms chased after them. Some ran on all fours while others stumbled forward like nervous toddlers.

“Holy shit!” Soji screamed as the trio turned their run into a sprint.

Franklin, emboldened by adrenaline, noticed that a single display was uncovered, and housed the glossy silver spear he had seen earlier. He grabbed it, shocked by how warm it felt, expecting a cool metal. He stopped in his tracks and turned back to face their pursuers. Memories of his older brother practicing with his bo staff in their backyard poked the back of his mind, and filled him with false confidence.

“Franklin what are you doing!? Come on!” Kuro yelled as he and Soji skidded to a halt.

“I got this. You guys go ahea—” The boy was viciously tackled by the horde of mutated classmates and researchers chasing them, his delusion abruptly shattered. Kuro had to stop himself from vomiting as the sound and smell of flesh tearing assaulted his senses. Like Farah, the creatures all had a beige cloth wrapped around various parts of their bodies, and from that cloth, clouds of deep blue mist flowed freely onto their prey. Franklin cried out.

“Wait! Wait! Help me! Help me!” His screams were primal, haunting, right until the moment they tapered off. His body shuddered, and took on that pallid shade of gray but remained motionless.

Even paralyzed by the sight before them, the remaining duo noticed from the corners of their eyes that their escape route was blocked by more writhing tree branches. They let loose a chorus of hissing, warding off those that might attempt to break through.

“Franklin...” Soji’s voice wavered. This was all happening way too fast.

The creatures continued towards them, quickly becoming uninterested in Franklin’s ravaged corpse. It was now that they were up close that Soji noticed that some of the blooms glowed red hot, burning the plant matter sprouting out of their bodies. His heart pounded even harder, adrenaline forcing him to shiver as the blooms approached him and Kuro.

“I’m seriously gonna die!?” He thought.

“Soji! Help me break these!” Kuro, although proactive, was not unaffected by panic or fear. His desire to protect simply overrode the inclination to give up. It was with this resolve, that he kicked at the branches blocking their path, snapping them with each strike. Soji joined in, throwing his full body weight at the branches with half the effectiveness.

The mutant crowd abandoned their slow crawl and adopted a gallop towards the remaining survivors. The threat of the mist trailed behind them, closing up any possible escape window.

The boys’ tenacity finally paid off as they broke a hole big enough to crawl through the wooden wall. Kuro motioned to let Soji go first, but Soji pushed his friend’s head down and towards the escape. He couldn’t accept that selflessness of his if he could die for it.

The silver-haired boy crawled through, and extended a hand to pull Soji in after him. A moment too late, unfortunately. The boys clasped hands at the same time that an unbearably hot grip tightened around Soji’s ankle. He cried out in pain.

“Soji!” Panicked, Kuro pulled, initiating a tug-of-war with the ghoulish creature on the other side of the wall. More smoldering hands shot through the branches, mist leaking through the gaps.

“Kuro! Let go! Run!” He blindly kicked at the bloom behind him, feeling a mixture of disgust and determination each time his sole met the creature’s face. The mist caught up to him, slowing the strength and frequency of each kick as he succumbed to a coughing fit. Tears ran down both of their faces.

That’s when fate’s cruel sense of humor reared its ugly head. Kuro felt a sharp pain in his hand, and without thinking, let go to see a single ant clamping down on his skin.

“Kuro!” Soji called for him as the bloom pulled him through the wall. Kuro launched himself at the floor, just barely catching his friend’s hand. More blooms joined in on the hunt, making it impossible for Kuro to keep up with their inhuman strength. Love and willpower alone would make no saviors.

“Woo hooooo!”

A girl’s muffled excitement was barely audible over the rush of blooms as a blur shot through the wooden dead-end in between them. Before the splinters of wood could even land, she needed only one step to lunge at the bloom holding Soji and punch the top of its cloth-covered head. Thin, pale, threads of orange light flared around her, like a parachute loosed in turbulent winds. The energy quickly retracted, gathering in her hand. A moment later, a bright orange explosion shattered the skull of her target.

Slimy blue matter splashed all over the place, decorating the walls and clashing with the blood-red emergency lights. The creature’s body withered into dust, leaving behind nothing but plant matter and blood.

“Strange…”

“Take cover!” She gestured with her head while dashing into the now agitated horde before them. Finally able to pull Soji through, Kuro embraced his friend. Out of fear, out of relief.

It was only then that they got a good look at her. Her complexion was a light brown, and she had narrow brown eyes with a brightness that contrasted her curly black hair. She was tall, taller than Kuro at least, and despite the bloodshed around her, had her eyebrows raised in anticipation. They both watched as she obliterated the creatures that terrorized them only moments before.

“How is she doing that?! What is that light?” Kuro was amazed by the sight before him.

“Light? What?” Soji asked, perplexed.

“Soji can’t see it? This must be like those other times…”

“Hmph. Maybe you breathed in some of that blue stuff…” Soji crossed his arms.

“But I didn’t turn into them,” Kuro mumbled to himself, “And neither did you…”

The girl battled two larger blooms, this time showing some signs of struggle. Rather than getting close to these ones, she remained at a distance, weaving her energy and directing it towards them in a slow moving beam before letting it explode. The creatures were only mildly bothered by the explosions, as though they were merely sparklers brushing past them.

They lunged at her to close the distance, but the girl jumped backwards to evade. One with a torn face ran past her flank, meaning to engage her in the air. Her energy flared once more, this time gathering around her body and glowing brightly.

Despite the uncertainty of what he was seeing, Kuro felt the instinctive need to put his head down, and did so, pulling Soji down with him. Just a second later, a deafening BOOM shook the branches they hid behind, launching a volley of splinters and debris everywhere. The noise was followed by silence, and a high pitched ringing in both the boys' ears. The girl popped her head into the hole, scaring the two. She ushered them out, where they saw that all the blooms disappeared, and the walls around them now bent away from the epicenter of the explosion.

"My name's Monika. Just so you know who to thank!" She said with a grin.

"What the fuck!?" Soji yelled, dramatically falling to the ground with his head in his hands. "What was all that?! What were those things? Zombies!? What did they do to our friends? What the hell did you do to them?! Who are you?" The boy shook his head. Monika raised a single eyebrow.

"I can’t tell you that…but like I said, my name’s Monika."

"You have to," Kuro interrupted, "tell us everything. Especially about that orange light around you."

Monika's eyes widened in surprise.

"You can see it?" Her eyebrows furrowed as she tilted her ear towards him slightly, and paused for a moment.

"Oh...I can hear it now…you’re…like me. My mentor will be here soon, she’ll sort all this out. But I guess I can tell you a little bit while we wait."

Soji continued his lamenting, while Kuro sat against a wall, arms crossed.

“Really? Just like that?”

"So. Those things are called blooms, born from sin and dust and all that.” To Monika, these creatures’ presence was a trivial matter-of-fact, evident from the way she kicked bloody plant matter off her black boots.

“Woah, woah, woah, what do you mean sin? Like Bible sin? You’re telling me every time I lie or something, one of those things is made?” Soji asked, both hysterical but intrigued.

Monika rolled her eyes.

“Well, yes and no. The human soul produces an energy called atma, and for those of us that can shape it, it can be used as a weapon to fight off those blooms. But, the residual atma left behind by us, and the tiny bits that leak out of non-atma users allow them to fester. Atma is very sensitive to emotional and mental state, so when it becomes charged with the guilt…or thrill from the things that one considers taboo — sins — somewhere, a bloom is formed.”

“I see,” Kuro rubbed his chin. He recalled the times that he had seen rat-sized apparitions in various places, ignoring them as they floated and scurried about. “How come nobody knows about these blooms?”

“Well that’s because we atma users, maestros, banded together to form the M.I.I. and deal with them before they get to the point of being visible, let alone threats to normal people.”

“Wait,” Soji interrupted, “are you saying the M.I.I. is a front? All that stuff about solving world problems with tech is bullshit?”

“Not quite. The global issues that the Institute aims to solve just happen to include blooms.” Monika shrugged as if the answer was obvious. She then looked at Soji, noticing the burnt hem of his pants and shredded socks.

“One of those things touched you?” Her eyes widened.

“Yeah…”

“Then how are you—?” The girl once again tilted her ear in his direction.

“You don’t sound like anything. Not an atma user, but not like a regular person either. You sound more like a bloom…” Monika was perplexed.

“Come to think of it, he’s not succumbing to the mist either…”

“What does that even mean?” The boy was in hysterics once again. The girl balled her fist and smacked the top of his head.

“Stop yelling so damn much, I’m tryna figure this out!” Soji nursed his head for a moment before frowning.

“Don’t—” Kuro tried to stop him but it was too late. Soji swung at Monika, landing a firm hit on the left side of her jaw. The girl recoiled, then scowled.

“You little shit!”

“You’re the one hitting people you just met!” Both of them stood up, with illuminant orange threads rising out of Monika’s body.

“It’s not right to beat up civilians, Monika,” a silky, sweet voice called out to them from the mouth of the hallway.

A tall, dark-skinned woman walked forward frowning. She had bluish-silver hair, twisted into long, thick box braids. Her eyes were covered by a silver tiara with intricately carved flowers and butterflies adorning it. She wore a white trench coat hiding glimpses of a black compression shirt and cargo pants identical to Monika’s.

“Big Sis! Mission Report!” Monika’s posture became rigid with respect and exaltation. She pointed a finger at Kuro. “That one’s an atma user so I was explaining what we’re about, but that one,” she shifted her finger in Soji’s direction, “is some sort of bloom.” The woman stared at Soji intently, then rubbed her forehead in exasperation.

“Don’t call me ‘big sis’. People might get the wrong idea.”

Her stiff expression softened into a smirk as she looked over at Soji. She held his gaze, even behind her eyewear.

“I think you need more practice. There’s nothing wrong with this boy.”

“But—”

“I said there’s nothing special about this boy. He’s normal.” The woman’s expression cooled once more. Soji winced.

“But you,” she turned to Kuro, “you’ve got such brilliant atma. And that hair of yours, is it natural?” His throat felt dry, as though the woman before him was the sun personified. He felt as though he was meant to bow. Or perhaps it was the sheer gravity of the day’s events catching up to him that turned his legs to jelly as he stepped backwards to rest against the wall. Still stuck in a blend of awe and discomfort, he nodded a simple answer to her question.

“Then we’ve got a lot to talk about. You’ll come with me. As for you…” She turned back to Soji. “I hate to ask this but…it’s best if you don’t talk about what happened here. The M.I.I. will cover it up, and you and your family will be compensated, but for your own safety, I suggest you forget about everything and move on with your life.”

Soji just stared at her.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” He thought to himself.

“How the hell can I forget about this!?” He yelled, gesturing to the carnage around them.

“Yeah, there’s no way you’re being serious,” Kuro chimed in with a nod, “and besides, I’m not going anywhere without Soji.” He gathered the strength to stand up straight and step between his lifelong friend and the woman in front of them.

“Boy,” the woman sighed, “blooms are a part of your life now. You’re a maestro, and your friend is not. I know you think you’ll be able to protect him, but I also know that you know better than that.”

With that, Kuro shut up. His eyes dropped into a faraway memory.

~

“Kuro, wake up!” A young Soji waved a flashlight in his friend’s face, towing him from his uneventful slumber.

“Wha- what time is it?” Kuro groaned with a grimace. It was during times like this that he re-examined his decision to have sleepovers with the boy. He soon banished the thought, remembering that with his mother’s busy work schedule, he never had much of a choice.

“Don’t worry about that, let’s go outside!” Soji exclaimed as Kuro glanced at a red-lit digital clock on the wall.

“At 2am?! It’s Wednesday!”

Soji ignored reason, entranced by the quiet night taunting him from outside his window. Kuro groggily trudged towards the window, displeased to see translucent glowing creatures floating about outside. Where Soji saw nothing but dimly twinkling lights, he saw a private world of potential danger.

“It’s dangerous at night. Go to sleep.”

“Not in this compound. And besides…danger is where the good stories are.” Kuro sighed at Soji’s response; he had made up his mind.

“Fine. I’ll come. But don’t expect me to drag you with me on my own adventure.”

“Yeah, right. I’ll find a way to come find you.” The two continued to stare outside the window, gazing at two entirely different worlds.

~

After a moment, he glanced at Soji, misty with sadness. As the boys locked eyes, they silently came to an understanding.

~

June 17, 2022 - 7.31pm

Unknown, Abuja, Nigeria

Akorede Adesanya sat on a beige woolen rug with both legs crossed. His right hand was balled up and pressed against his navel, while his left cupped the fist. He took deep breaths with his eyes closed as he tried to envision a water tank spilling its contents slowly. Thin, pale strings of atma rose from his body in a steady stream. Without warning, the events of his field trip three days earlier flashed in his mind, and that stream turned into an explosion of energy before dissipating into nothingness. The boy opened his eyes, irritated.

“Wow, you’re pretty bad at this.” Monika sneered. She wore a white tank top with gray sweatpants, an outfit similar to Kuro’s.

“It’s been three days! And I’m still a little distracted from the fact you guys pulled me out of my old life! Can I at least call my mom? Or Soji?” Monika’s mentor, and now his too, poked her head through a doorway connecting the living room to an expansive foyer.

“I’ll take care of all that. But you need to master the basics of atma, first.”

“What, why? What’s the rush? Do I need to do some secret training before you whisk me off to magic school?” Kuro rolled his eyes, and motioned to break his position before Coach raised an eyebrow, silently reprimanding him back into focus.

“First of all,” Coach replied, “atma is not magic. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. It has hard rules with practical and theoretical usage. Atma, is a science that can be dangerous when used inappropriately.”

Her tone darkened the room enough to push Monika out.

“That being said, the reason I want you to advance so quickly is because of your hair.”

Kuro ran his hands through his neat, white cornrows.

“People awaken their ability to use atma anywhere from age 5 to 12. Anything outside of that range is unheard of…except for those blessed with white hair, who instead can use atma from birth.”

“But I’ve never used atma.”

“To your knowledge. You’ve always been stronger than others haven’t you?” The boy was immediately reminded of how easily he surpassed his peers in physicality.

“Oh.”

“That’s right. Listen…in maestro society, white hair is indicative of potentially unique techniques that stand leagues above the rest. Such maestros are usually born once every century. But you…you’re the third one born in the last 30 years; a lot of people will have eyes on you.”

“What do you mean, techniques?”

“Ah, ah ah,” Coach wagged a finger mischievously. “Learn to control your atma flow first.” Suddenly, Monika burst back into the room.

“We’ve got another bloom attack in the city! I accepted the mission request!” The girl wore an excited grin.

“We’re supposed to be on vacation, what’s going on in this city?” She sighed before stretching her arms. “Where’s this one?”

“Uh, some place called Shell Compound, at Maitama?”

“Shell…Maitama? That’s where Soji lives!” Kuro jumped up with threads of atma following him and coiling around his legs.

His head brushed against the ceiling, demonstrating the power of the force that Coach had warned him about. The woman softened his landing with one hand.

“Stay here. As you just saw, you’re in no position to follow us. Don’t worry, Kuro. I’ll solve everything.”

Monika glanced at her guardian skeptically. Even in the short time that she had spent as her protégé, she had internalized the fact that those words always meant stomach-churning amounts of bloodshed would follow. With that, Coach pushed up her tiara-shaped visor and held a hand out to Monika. As soon as the girl grabbed it, the two visually glitched out of sight with a soft breeze.

~

June 17, 2022 - 7.38pm

Maitama, Abuja, Nigeria

The two women watched as the lone boy, naked, but otherwise unharmed rigidly stumbled out of a home-shaped wreckage. A substance like black clay gloved his hands, as though to obscure his involvement in the fiery carnage around him.

“I told you he was a bloom!” Monika yelled over the roaring flame. Her mentor just watched in silence with her arms crossed.

Soji’s eyes and mind were blank, washed clean by the trauma. One thought, however, repeated itself, spreading into his rapidly beating heart, then trembling hands.

“I… I killed my family…”

“Congratulations, Adesoji Ojo,” Coach sighed, “you’re under arrest.”