The fog rolled in like a living thing, thick tendrils curling around the streetlamps of St. Leo, turning their warm light into ghostly halos. Nze checked his phone: 11:47 PM. He was definitely living dangerously. Eli's rules echoed in his head: "This isn't like Lagos. St. Leo has rules. Never alone in the woods. Never out past 6. The night here... it knows things."

But here he was, breaking both rules at once, his sneakers silent on the wet pavement as he moved past College Road. The map in his hands was already worn from how many times he'd unfolded and refolded it throughout the day, Bee's elegant lines showing the way to Oakwood.

The rational part of his brain screamed at him to turn back. Good kids who wanted to graduate and make their families proud didn't follow mysterious girls into foggy forests at midnight. But then again, good kids probably didn't feel their skin hum with electricity every time they thought about said mysterious girl's smile either.

The entrance to the forest path was barely visible—just a gap between two ancient oaks that seemed to lean toward each other like conspirators sharing secrets. Nze pulled out his phone's flashlight, but the fog ate most of the beam, sending it back in scattered fragments that made the shadows dance.

The fog had teeth.

At least, that's how it felt to Nze as he picked his way through the woods, his phone's flashlight beam barely penetrating the thick mist. Every snap of a twig under his feet echoed like gunshots in the unnatural silence. The trees loomed overhead, their branches reaching like gnarled fingers through the vapor.

Something rustled in the undergrowth to his left.

He swung his light toward the sound, heart hammering against his ribs, but caught only the tail end of movement—maybe an animal, maybe something else. The map trembled slightly in his hands as he double-checked his route. The paper had grown damp from the fog, making Bee's elegant lines blur at the edges.

Another sound, this time behind him—a low, throaty chuckle that definitely wasn't an animal. Nze spun around, but the fog swallowed everything beyond a few feet.

"Hello?" His voice sounded small and foreign in the heavy air.

No response, but he could have sworn he heard whispers carried on the wind.

Unknown to Nze, about thirty feet away, partially hidden behind a massive oak whose trunk had split into three, Bee watched him with intense focus. Her dark lips curved into a satisfied smile. Beside her, Nosa and Kitty—fellow Skyfall members—observed with matching expressions of curious assessment.

"See?" Bee whispered, her eyes never leaving Nze's form as he consulted the map again. "I told you he'd come."

Kitty adjusted her crystal pendant, the stone gleaming faintly in the darkness. "Well, go bring him then. The others are waiting."

"I hope you're right about this one, Bee," Nosa added, his facial piercings catching what little light filtered through the canopy. "We can't afford another mistake."

Bee's smile turned knowing, almost predatory. "Trust me. He's different. I can feel it." She pushed off from the tree, her movements as fluid as the fog itself. "Watch."

She melted into the mist, circling around to approach Nze from another angle, positioning herself perfectly for her entrance. The fog parted just enough as she emerged from it, her voice carrying that perfect mix of surprise and invitation:

"I was starting to think you wouldn't come."

Nze spun around, his heart attempting an Olympic gymnastics routine in his chest. Bee emerged from the fog like she was made of it, wearing black high-waisted jeans and a cropped hoodie that revealed a strip of honey-brown skin. Her platinum curls were luminescent in the dark.

"You didn't think I'd just go home and do my econ homework, did you?" He aimed for casual, but his voice caught slightly on the last word.

Her laugh was low and warm. "No, I didn't. You've got that look."

"What look?"

"Hungry." She stepped closer, and that intoxicating scent hit him again. "Not for food or success or whatever they tell you to want. Hungry for something real. Something true." Her fingers found his wrist, skin against skin. "Come on. The others are waiting."

"Others?" But she was already leading him down the path, her touch sending sparks up his arm.

The fog seemed to part for her like a curtain, revealing a trail he wouldn't have found alone. They walked in silence for what felt like both forever and no time at all, deeper into the woods where the trees grew older and stranger. The air grew thick with the smell of wet earth and something else—something sweet and ancient that made his head swim.

The music hit him first—a deep, thrumming bass that seemed to rise from the earth itself, mixed with something that sounded like highlife music but wasn't quite right, as if the instruments were made of storm clouds and starlight. As they drew closer, the true scale of Oakwood revealed itself, and Nze's jaw literally dropped.

It wasn't just a clearing—it was a neighbourhood.

Treehouses sprawled across the ancient oaks, connected by rope bridges and wooden walkways that spiraled up tree trunks like organic staircases. Some houses were small and cozy, barely more than elevated rooms, while others spread across multiple trees, their architecture defying gravity and common sense alike. Strings of lights wove through the branches like captured constellations, and lanterns swayed in the midnight breeze, casting ever-shifting shadows that danced with the fog.

At the center stood the grandfather of all trees—a massive oak that must have been centuries old, its trunk wider than a car. A structure that looked part treehouse, part castle wrapped around it, with balconies jutting out at impossible angles and windows glowing amber and blue. Music poured from its open doors and windows, along with laughter and the kind of conversations that only happen after midnight.

"Welcome to the real Skyfall," Bee said, squeezing his hand. Her eyes reflected the dancing lights, making them look like kaleidoscopes. "What do you think?"

Before Nze could answer, a figure swung down from a nearby branch, landing gracefully beside them. The guy looked about their age, with dark dreadlocks tipped in silver and more piercings than Nze could count. "Bee! You brought fresh blood!"

"Down, Kai," Bee laughed. "This is Nze. He's... interesting."

"They all are, until they run screaming," Kai grinned, but there was something sharp in his eyes as he studied Nze. "Well, come on then. Night's wasting!"

Bee tugged Nze's hand, pulling him toward the central tree. Inside, the party was in full swing. The floor was packed with bodies moving to the strange music—he saw a few college students he recognized from campus, but also older people who looked like they might be professors or local artists, and even a few faces that couldn't have been more than sixteen. They all shared that Skyfall look—a wild freedom in their eyes, clothes that mixed vintage with modern in ways that shouldn't work but did.

A girl with rainbow-colored hair danced past, wearing what looked like a Victorian dress cut off at the knees paired with combat boots. Next to her, a guy who had to be in his thirties wore ripped jeans and a t-shirt covered in symbols like the ones from the stone table in the clearing. Everyone moved like they were part of the same organism, like the music had dissolved the boundaries between them.

"Drink?" Bee shouted over the music, pressing one of those glowing mason jars into his hand. The liquid inside shimmered like opal, catching lights that weren't there.

"What is it?" Nze asked, but Bee just smiled that dangerous smile of hers.

"Let's just say it's not approved by the NAFDAC," she leaned in close, her lips brushing his ear. "But nothing worth experiencing ever is."

The scent of her—that intoxicating mixture of sweat and something wild—made his head spin. Or maybe it was the atmosphere, the way reality seemed to bend at the edges here, like a dream bleeding into wakefulness.

"Trust me?" she asked, taking a sip from her own jar. A drop of the luminescent liquid caught on her lower lip, making it gleam like a fallen star.

Nze looked around at this hidden world—at the people dancing like they'd never have to stop, at the impossible architecture above them, at the girl beside him who seemed to contain entire universes in her smile. He thought about Eli's rules, about Pico's warnings, about all the sensible things he should be doing instead of standing in a treehouse speakeasy at midnight with a girl who practically radiated danger.

Then he raised the jar to his lips and drank.

The liquid tasted like sweet, like lightning and secret promises, like the space between heartbeats. Bee's smile widened as she grabbed his hand again, pulling him into the crowd of dancers.

"Welcome to the family," she whispered, and then they were moving, and the music was inside him, and the night was just beginning, and nothing would ever be the same again.

The rational part of his brain tried one last time to warn him—about Eli, about classes tomorrow, about all the reasons this was a terrible idea. But as Bee's body moved against his, as the strange drink sparked through his veins like electricity, as the music wrapped around them like a living thing, that voice grew quieter and quieter until it was lost in the symphony of the night.

In its place came a new understanding: some rules existed to be broken, some warnings were really invitations, and some kinds of trouble weren't trouble at all, but salvation in disguise.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚

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