Kente's POV

The wind howled through the spires of Old Brass, kicking up red dust that stung Kente's face. He crouched on a jagged ledge, one hand gripping the warm, pulsing pendant around his neck—a gift from Zuri, its orange and blue beads clinking softly. His tan jacket, patched with stripes of orange and blue, flapped in the breeze, the fabric frayed from too many battles. The third eye symbol on his forehead tingled, a faint white glow flickering beneath his spiky, black-and-white hair. His blue eyes—bright, unnatural, alive with juju—scanned the horizon where the Harvesters' shadows lingered.

Inside him, the brats stirred.

"Oi, Kente, you're brooding again," Joor's voice rang out, wild and jagged like a cracked bell. "What's the point? Zuri's out there playing hero, and you're perched here like a sulky bird. Let me loose—I'll spice things up!"

"Silence, you reckless fool," Nri snapped, her tone sharp and cold as a blade. "Kente's right to watch. The Harvesters are circling, and Kaelon's juju hums louder every day. We need focus, not your chaos."

Kente gritted his teeth, pressing a bandaged hand to his temple. "Both of you, shut it," he muttered, voice low but firm. Ever since Umvelina's daughter and that cursed idol had fused into him—Nri and Joor, two sides of the same bratty coin—his head hadn't known peace. Their bickering was a constant storm, but their power… that was something else. It crackled through him now, juju bending the air around him, dust spiraling into faint runes.

He straightened, boots scuffing the stone. Zuri was down in the training yard with Miss Wolo, and Aanya was tracing protective wards nearby. They were all tied together—him, Zuri, Aanya—by promises made under the mud-brick roofs of the orphanage. But the Harvesters wanted their hum, their souls, and Kaelon's black stone pulsed with a hunger Kente could feel even from here.

Zuri's POV

Zuri stood in the yard, bare feet planted on cracked stone, his red eyes narrowed against the sun. His pendant—Kente's gift—glowed faintly, orange power simmering beneath his skin. It felt alive, restless, like a beast clawing to break free. Miss Wolo circled him, her staff tapping a slow, steady beat. "Your juju's wild, Zuri," she said, voice calm but edged with steel. "Old Brass runs in your veins, but so does Harvester blood. You've got to tame it."

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He nodded, jaw tight, but his thoughts drifted—to Kente's crooked grin, Aanya's soft humming, nights spent dreaming of a life beyond chains. The pendant pulsed, syncing with his heartbeat, but the orange glow turned cold, sharp. A voice slithered into his mind—oily, familiar. "You're ours, boy," the Harvester leader hissed. "That power? It's our echo. You'll never be free."

Zuri's fists clenched, orange sparks flaring around his knuckles. "Get out," he growled, shoving the voice back. Miss Wolo's staff glowed blue, her juju hum wrapping around him like a tether. "You're stronger than them, Zuri," she said. "Feel the pendant—Kente's with you."

Aanya's POV

Aanya knelt by the spires, silver eyes tracing the juju runes she'd etched into the stone. Her black braids brushed the ground, her crescent pendant glowing blue-green against her chest. She felt Zuri's struggle—his hum jagged, fierce—and Kente's too, a steady pulse laced with worry. The three of them were bound, their pendants humming in unison, echoes of Old Brass and the orphanage days.

She murmured a chant, fingers brushing the runes. The air shimmered, reality bending faintly as her juju flared. She remembered Kente's stupid jokes, Zuri's wild stories—how they'd sworn to protect each other. Now, Kaelon's shadow stretched long, his black stone humming a threat she couldn't ignore.

"Aanya," Miss Wolo's voice cut through her focus. "Your hum ties to Umvelina's line. Help Zuri—steady him."

Aanya nodded, standing. "I'll do it," she said, quiet but resolute. Her runes pulsed, reaching for Zuri's orange glow, weaving their power together.

Kente's POV (Internal Clash)

Kente leapt down from the ledge, landing in a crouch, dust billowing around him. Below, Zuri trained, sparks flying, while Aanya's runes glowed steady. His pendant hummed louder, warmth spreading through his chest. Inside, Nri and Joor kicked up a fuss.

"Look at him—pathetic!" Joor cackled, voice bright and unhinged. "Let me take over, Kente. I'll blast that Harvester stink right out of him!"

"No," Nri countered, icy and precise. "Zuri's hum is fragile—you'd shatter it. Kente, use the pendant. It's your link to him, to Old Brass. Strengthen it."

Kente gripped the pendant, closing his eyes. The juju surged, his third eye flaring bright. Dust rose, spinning into circles around him, runes flickering in the air. "Zuri," he whispered, voice carrying on the wind, "hold on. I've got you."

Harvester Leader's POV

In the shadowed caverns, the Harvester leader stood over a blood-red rune circle, his gold robe glinting darkly. Red eyes burned beneath his hood as he traced a claw over a jagged map of the capital, etched with Zuri's prison mark.

"Zuri's hum resists," he hissed, voice slick with venom. "But Kaelon's stone will drain him—leave him hollow for us."

A subordinate shifted, red eyes gleaming. "And Kente? His hum's loud—tied to Zuri's, maybe Umvelina's shadow."

The leader smirked, sharp and cruel. "Umvelina's spawn will break him from within. We'll harvest their hum, bleed Old Brass dry. Their fall is our rise."