The next day, Shettima suggested they enter the small town at the feet of the plateau to gather information and news, he was curious about how the public had reacted to the recent events.

Shango reluctantly agreed but not without teaching them how to glamour their wings.

“Your wings are residual magic’s; imitating the rooster wings I conjured on my person during my captivity, in mockery of my genes as the men in long white coats would say, unlike mine it cannot simply be removed with a wave of hand because it has been imbued in you since birth, but still they are made entirely of hardened lightening, and can be temporarily dispersed like ozone matter if you concentrate enough.’’

On saying this, he proceeded in teaching them, the shock on their faces were comical as they gaped at each other, looking strangely different without their wings, it was like it was there but at the same time not there, despite the wings absent, Omotola could feel them stirring at her back like bottled storms.

Even without their wings, they were still out of sort as they strolled cautiously through the small town, Obiora and Shango’s heights though not uncommon still drew attention. Orchid’s white hair, their broad shoulders and tattered institute tights could not be overlooked.

Shango wanted to find the nearest palmwine shed but the wiry Shetimma convinced him to at least change clothings to blend in as he (Shango) was dressed out of century.

so they changed cloths at a local clothing store, leaving the poor salesman grinning like crazy after Orchid tampered with his brain fluids, it was unethical, but they had no way of paying after Shango threatened to rip his saucy tongue out of his head for daring to demand payment for services rendered.

When they left the boutique, they were all garbed in presentable attires, Looking normal, at least to an extent.

Shettima took one look at the thunder god and sighed, nothing he wears was going to make him inconspicuous, even in his casual jeans and tees, he looked like a club bouncer loaded on way too much steroids, his stony glare wasn't helping either.

“You don’t have to threaten everybody who looks at us funny you know.” Orchid sighed as Shango glared at a group of peddlers who skidded away in fear. “We already drew enough attention to ourselves as it is.”

“Pathetic vermin the lot of them." He sneered at a group of thugs eyeballing him in a show of challenge. "No one dare look Shango Olu Koso in the eye, for even if you look and live to tell the tale, your life will not remain the same for eternal trauma will be your portion anytime you witness my lightening flash in the sky, Howu! Would it that I have Oshe in my grasp, you will be writing a different story.”

“You mean your symbolic battle axe? Did the institute take it from you when they found you? Binta asked hoping to divert Shango's attention from the thugs.

“Like they would survive the ordeal if they did, Shango scoffed. the siblings shared relived glances as he shifted his attention from the thugs to leer at some passing market women.

“Perchance I would not have been taken if Oshe was on my person at that period, for it would have protected me in my vulnerable state. The axe has a mind of its own and would have drained them of life, soul and essence had they laid their unworthy hands on it. Lo; i hid it before judgment was passed upon me.”

“Why were you judged in the first place? Binta prodded ignoring Orchid’s warning look.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Shango stared stonily ahead without replying, and Binta wisely kept her peace.

Omotola gasped as a memory flashed before her eyes, Shango knelt, bound in chains of lava before a furious elderly god in white clothing. The vision left her thoughts as fast as it had invaded.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she assured a concerned Binta.

Her visions were getting erratic, from the little she could make sense of, she was reliving the memories of strangers she had never met except perhaps their father. In her past dreams, she had been seeing through Shango’s eyes and reliving his memories.

This was new.

They stopped at a fast food joint to break fast, paying this time with the cash stolen by Binta from an atm machine; at this point, morality has been thrown out of the window. They had already blew up a portion of Lagos city, worn stolen cloths, hoodwinked an innocent salesman, they were technically on the nation’s most wanted list.

The breakout was the only trending topic on news channels breaking news, like they suspected, the government was trying to cover up the incident as much as possible but doing a bad job of it as the public demanded an explanation on how a building rose up from under their homes and the bizarre appearance of a man floating midair and raining fire on their heads.

The headlines flashed; gods out of legend or rise of superheroes.

The end of the world? movie location stunt gone wrong? One eye witness even went as far as swore on his life that they were aliens; a few still claimed that Shango was an escaped mental home inmate to the latter’s chagrin.

“This can only be an attack by the infamous terrorist organization known as boko haram, although they are yet to claim responsibility for the explosions, the rainy storm was just a coincidence. The government is assuring the general public that everything is under control, the masses well-being is our upmost concern, we will not be shaken in the face of intimidation and terrorism.”

A government official announced live at the institute rubble as he expertly ignored a barrage of questions from the media.

“At least they’re trying to cover us up. The public will believe anything that will calm their fears; they will soon start accepting this cock and bull story.” Binta grumbled into her meal.

“They simply needed to bring the tensions down a notch while they hunt us down, Shettima replied in his quiet voice. “But what if our institute wasn’t the only one hidden, what if there were other projects or 5th generation children bred from other lost but found slumbering gods somewhere?"

“The ancestors forbid! Shango cursed so loud a startled family of four backed out the eatery faster than they had entered.

“Lanroye is gate keeper and caretaker, only he did not go to sleep when the gods did for he was to watch over us all in our hidden places of solitude, he would never allow the gods to be taken in their most vulnerable state.”

“He did allow you to be taken though, after all he was known as a trickster and a legendary liar.” Shettima pointed out.

“My case was but a different matter, for i was judged, found wanting and was casted down. Accepted Lanroye and I had a history, for all his dubious and canny nature, he is loyal to Obatala and to his duties as messenger and caretaker of our realms."

He bit into his hamburger, spat and cursed in five languages, three of which none of the children have never been taught not heard.

"By the voluminous breasts of Yemoja! what is this unsavoury sacrifice in the guise of food? nigh will I give my right hand right this instance for a bowl of pounded yam and goat stew, oh my creator, how much low shall I fall so."

"Why does Yemoja's boobs has volume?" Babybaby asked with an air of innocent curiosity as Obiora laughed hard until he choked on his food.

"Why do lanroye hate you enough to betray you to the institute." Orchid asked as she glared at Obiora in reproach.

"I slew his twin, Elégbára the deamon deity," Was his stiff reply.

"Oh well, I'll hate your gut too if you kill Obiora as well, even me will miss the big idiot." She teased, ignoring her twin brother's mock outrage.

But Shango wasn't appeased, "I need to drink something strong, come let us be up and away from here, the fidgeting mortals are beginning to wear my patience thin, I fear I may I burn this place aground if I tarry a moment longer.”

He led them out the eatery to see the drive way blocked by the thugs they passed earlier; they must have smelled the excess cash on them.

"Oh no, the poor fools," Shettima groaned into his palm as Shango mouth curved upward in wicked glee, glad at the good fortune of being presented with punching bags for him to pent out his frustrations.