(Old Brass – The Ashen Hollows)

The Ashen Hollows stretched like a graveyard of giants, jagged spires piercing a sky bruised with twilight purples and oranges. Kente led the way, his patched boots crunching on ash-dusted stone, the Heart of Old Brass glowing in his hand like a heartbeat of molten gold. Its whispers slithered through his mind—a cold, ancient promise of ruin that made his third eye throb. Zuri trailed close, his spear clutched tight, his bruised ribs aching with every step, though his red eyes burned with defiance. Aanya followed, her silver gaze darting as her runes cast faint blue light, scanning for threats, while Zaria brought up the rear, her herb bag slung over her shoulder, silver eyes flickering to Kente with quiet resolve.

Inside Kente, Nri's voice rumbled, steady as a drum. "The shrine draws near, boy. Keep the focus."

Joor, ever the mischief-maker, chimed in with a cackle. "Focus? Hah! I'd rather focus on that Zaria girl's hips—swaying like palm fronds in a storm! You sure you don't want a closer look, Kente?"

Kente's face flushed, his third eye flickering in embarrassment. "Sharrap, Joor," he muttered, earning a curious glance from Zuri.

(Old Brass – Juju Shrine)

The juju shrine loomed like a sacred colossus, its ebony totems carved with leopards, serpents, and masked dancers frozen mid-dance. Mist swirled around the altar, thick enough to hide secrets but not Zaria's impending humiliation. Kente stood clutching the cursed Heart of Old Brass, its whispers now drowned out by the sound of Zuri snickering.

Aanya reached out, her runes flickering as she brushed a charm. "This place is sacred," she said, her voice hushed with awe. "The ancestors watch—Egungun spirits linger here."

Zaria stepped forward, her patched cloak swaying, her silver eyes wide with reverence. "My grandmother… she was a Sangoma, a healer of spirits," she said softly, kneeling before the entrance. She scattered dried herbs—moonleaf and bitterroot—in a circle, her hands steady despite the weight of memory. Closing her eyes, she hummed a low chant, her voice rising like a river's flow, calling to the past.

Incantation odeshi: Iya Agba, wa gbe mi o! Ase ti'le, ase ti'le o! Mo pe Egungun lati orun, lati odo Mami Wata, lati inu ile Old Brass, gba mi o, gba mi o!

The air split with a deafening roar, and the Egungun spirit materialized—a towering behemoth stretching 5,000 meters into the sky, its form a breathtaking spectacle that dwarfed the shrine below. Its body shimmered with spectral cloth, rippling like a storm cloud, while its face was a rugged expanse of rough crocodile skin, cracked and weathered like the oldest riverbanks of the Mami Wata region. Two bulging eyes dominated its visage, each the size of a small hill, their pupils pierced by gleaming rods that extended backward, curving like horns to the back of its head, glinting with an otherworldly light.

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"Children of Old Brass!" the Egungun intoned, its presence filling the shrine with a weight that pressed on their hearts. "Thou hast brought the Ashral, a cursed relic—an ancient priestess stirs, her wrath tied to the Rift that threatens to swallow all. Cleanse it here, but beware: her eyes are upon thee, and her malice knows no bounds."

Kente snapped under his breath, his focus on the Egungun. "How do we cleanse it?"

Egungun Spirit (booming, starlit mask swirling): "Children of Old Brass! To cleanse the Ashral, you must perform the sacred rite of the… uh… unclad soul! Only the purest source of life can break its curse!"

Zaria (face redder than a Harvester's eyes): "Um… that's… my tribe's thing. The Sangoma elders said our power comes from… uh… virginity. We have to be… naked… to summon the spirits."

Zuri: "NAKED?! Ancestors save us—this ritual's gonna be educational!"

Kente (third eye twitching like a startled owl): "Zaria, are you—are you serious?!"

Joor (in Kente's mind, cackling): "YES! FINALLY! Kente, my boy, this is why I haunt you! Let me out—I'll be her spiritual advisor! Hyahaha!"

Nri (slapping Joor inside the spiritual space): "Disgraceful! Focus, you imbecile!"

Zaria fumbled with her herb bag, hands shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. She peeled off her cloak with the grace of a drunk flamingo, accidentally whacking Aanya with a sleeve.

Zaria (squeaking): "K-Kente, Zuri—OUTSIDE! NOW!"

Zuri (grinning like a hyena): "But what if you need a hand? Spiritual support, y'know—"

Kente (dragging Zuri by the collar): "MOVE, YOU PERV!"

Outside, Zuri leaned against a totem. "Hey Kente, you peeking with that third eye?"

Kente (facepalming): "I'm not!"

Inside the shrine, Zaria stood bare as the day she was born, arms crossed over her chest, knees knocking. The mist conveniently covered just enough—anime logic in full force.

Aanya (scribing runes, deadpan): "Zaria. Your posture is blocking the ancestral energy. Arms… down."

Zaria (squealing): "A-ANYA! You're supposed to be my friend!"

Egungun Spirit (leaning in, voice echoing): "Child, your source is strong! Channel it! Let the spirits feel your… vitality!"

A warm glow erupted from her core—yes, that area(her V area...lol)—lighting up the shrine. The totems hummed, their carvings wiggling like they were alive… and judging.

Aanya (admiring the glow): "Impressive. Your… energy… is quite… vibrant."

Zaria (covering herself again): "ANYA, STOP COMMENTATING!"