As he succumbed to the gentle embrace of the dream world, an initial serenity enveloped him like a comforting cloak. However, this limited tranquility swiftly transformed into an unsettling revelation as the dream unfolded. The void swallowed him whole, an expanse of impenetrable darkness that left him disoriented and apprehensive. Searching the dreamlike surroundings, a sense of foreboding gripped him.

Suddenly, the familiar black and blue luminescence, an ominous dance of colors, began to manifest, coating the formless void. In the midst of this ethereal display, the enigmatic spider materialized, navigating the shadows with an eerie grace. The radiant blue light both illuminated and engulfed the arachnid entity.

"I'm not a dream, Eze!!!" the spider's taunt echoed through the dream realm, each word carrying a weight that reverberated within Eze's consciousness.

"No. No No No No No. You're not real. You don't exist, hear me?" Eze commanded, his voice trembling with fear, attempting to assert dominance over the surreal entity.

Undeterred, the spider continued its enigmatic dance, a manifestation of the unreal challenging the boundaries of Eze's understanding. The cosmic performance seemed infinite, as if time itself stretched within the confines of this dreamlike expanse.

Abruptly, Eze was jolted awake, the abrupt transition from the dream world to the harsh reality of the hospital room leaving him momentarily disoriented.

"Oga, you're going home oh," the nurse gently informed him, her presence a tangible anchor that he needed.

"What's the time, ma?" Eze inquired, a residual sense of the dream's unreality lingering in his waking moments.

"It's 6 AM. Pack your stuff," the nurse directed, her practicality a stark contrast to the fantastical landscapes Eze had just traversed.

"Yes, ma," Eze complied, rising from the bed as the nurse exited the doorless room, leaving him alone with the remnants of his disrupted dreams.

"Just a nightmare, Eze," he sighed.

As the doorless exit waited, Eze began to recollect the events of the last few days and how bizarre everything was. But it was now time for the boy to finally reintegrate himself into society.

The battered car grumbled to a stop in front of what Eze reluctantly labelled as "home." His eyes scanned over the litter-strewn gutters, a disoriented rat darting through the debris. Yet, amid the classic, 9ja-made urban decay, a government-mandated sign proudly proclaimed, "Okafor's Orphanage Home."

Dragging a dilapidated suitcase gifted by the nurses in a surprising attempt at pseudo-generosity, Eze felt a flicker of surprise at the unexpected nicety. It was a Monday morning, and the usual hustle and bustle of the orphanage grounds were notably absent. The only figure in sight was a slender, no-nonsense woman clutching an empty clipboard.

"Nice to see you again, Eze," she greeted, her tone businesslike.

"You too, Sister Ulu," he responded with a genuine beam.

"Well, since no one else is around, and you're basically home for the week for your recovery, hope you're ready to clean," she declared matter-of-factly.

Eze's expression shifted from joy to incredulity. "Ah ah now, I just got back for God's sake!" he protested.

"Me that does this every day, I'm an abomination abi?" Sister Ulu retorted sarcastically. "Come on, go and drop your stuff and come back, jor."

With a resigned sigh, Eze sluggishly made his way to his room, traversing the long, rough corridor adorned with pictures of various orphanage occupants. He paused to straighten a slightly crooked photo of Obinna.

As he continued his journey, a sudden, searing migraine gripped Eze's head. While not as intense as the previous one, it still elicited a sharp intake of breath. Desperate for support, he leaned against the corridor wall, slamming himself against it to alleviate the pain.

"God, what's going on with me!" he pleaded, the ache pulsating through his temples. With shaky steps, he trudged back to his room, collapsing onto his rickety bed with a sense of defeat.

Lying on his back once more, Eze directed his gaze upward, fixating on the pallid, white ceiling adorned with delicate, desolate cobwebs. A cascade of thoughts inundated his mind, each one a bewildering swirl of uncertainty to him. "How could this be happening? Everything was a dream, abi?"

The morning breeze, a gentle messenger from the world beyond, wafted through the open window, causing the light curtains to flutter in its ethereal dance. Shifting to his left side, Eze contemplated his own hand.

Then, an idea, ominous yet resolute, crossed his mind. "I need to check," Eze declared with a steely determination. "And I know just how."

Fixing his gaze on his own hand, he readied himself for what lay ahead. With a decisive motion, he clenched his fist and struck it against his chest. Again and again, the rhythmic thuds resonated through the room, the window serving as a witness to the peculiar spectacle.

In the midst of the self-inflicted percussions, an unsettling, yet comforting silence pervaded the space. No cosmic revelation unfolded, and no fantastical metamorphosis occurred. The room remained still, and Eze, amidst the quiet aftermath, released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Thank God," he sighed, a nuanced blend of relief coloring his words.

But of course, it was never that easy.

Suddenly, The delicate cobwebs on the ceiling stirred with an anticipatory shiver, as if aware of the impending disturbance in the fabric of reality.

And like an unwelcome encore, the familiar blue-black luminescence cascaded into the room, drowning its contours in an unearthly radiance. The air crackled with an otherworldly energy, as the curtains started to dance with a newfound intensity, caught in the currents of a spectral wind that swept through the room.

Eze, caught in the massive monster maelstrom, felt his heart pound with an ominous resonance. The epicenter of this strange occurrence, his chest emitted an ethereal blue glow, casting an eerie light across the otherwise dim space. It was as if the room itself had become a canvas for the mysterious forces that defied explanation.

And then, as abruptly as it had begun, the supernatural display ceased. The room, now tinged with an unsettling calm, reverted to its mundane appearance. The cobwebs, having witnessed the transient spectacle, hung suspended in a delicate dance of forgotten secrets.

"You have got to be joking" Eze said, shocked after witnessing the events around him.

But amidst the lingering echoes of the supernatural, Along came the spider.

An enigmatic entity, it seemed to materialize from the remnants of the ethereal display. Its presence, a stark contrast to the subdued surroundings, demanded attention.

"What are you thanking me for?" Anansi's voice echoed, cutting through the silence. "I haven't done anything. Or at least, anything yet."

Eze's horror intensified as the enigmatic spider, Anansi, came into view. His stammered attempts to comprehend the surreal encounter were abruptly silenced by the chuckling arachnid.

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"H-How. W-why? I thought, you-" Eze stuttered, his words trailing off as Anansi interrupted him with an amused tone.

"Were all a dream?" Anansi chuckled, its legs stretching in a rather grotesque display of otherworldly flexibility. It resumed speaking, a sense of eerie satisfaction underlying its words.

"My illusions are perfect, aren't they?"

"I-Illusions?" Eze managed to utter, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"Yeah, that Obinna boy was a real pain, wasn't he? So I thought to myself, what if I just killed everyone in the hospital?" Anansi's words landed casually, sending a shiver down Eze's spine.

"You...what?" Eze questioned, his horror deepening at the implications of Anansi's words.

"But then I decided that I'd just try again. Besides, now you summoned me yourself!" Anansi's tone shifted to one of perverse delight.

"Oh God. This is real," Eze uttered, with his concern etched across his face.

"No o. It's fake," the spider responded, with some sarcasm lacing its words as if an eye roll could be heard in its tone.

"Is it actually?" Eze questioned, a lingering uncertainty in his voice.

"I'm tuckered out for now at least. No illusions for a while," Anansi sighed disappointedly, and a sigh of relief seemed to escape Eze.

"So what now? Can we go kill some petty thieves or something?" Anansi casually suggested.

"Wh- huh? Kill? What are we even talking about anymore?" Eze inquired, his bewilderment from the causality evident in his expression.

"Ok Adi, lemme explain. I just happened to appear in this cluster over here. And I'm bored. I wanna see what being a hero is like. You know?" Anansi clarified.

"Why does that involve me exactly?" Eze questioned, seeking answers in the midst of the surreal conversation.

"Wrong place, wrong time, I guess." The spider, now on its hind legs, delivered a nonchalant shrug.

"So it's not even like I was a chosen one or anything? It could have been anyone else?" Eze sought clarification.

"I'd have preferred it to be the Obinna boy sef. But here we are," the spider remarked,

Eze's desperate plea hung in the air, a fragile entreaty amidst the surreal encounter with Anansi. The enigmatic spider, perched on its spindly legs, responded with an eerie calmness that sent shivers down Eze's spine.

"So why can't you just go to him then? And leave me out of this?" Eze begged, his voice a tremulous whisper, carrying the weight of his fear and confusion.

In response, the spider, its sleek black form crossed in a grotesque imitation of human arms, regarded Eze with an otherworldly gaze. "Well, for one thing, I'd have to wipe your memory," it declared, each word landing with a calculated precision that heightened the tension in the room.

The revelation reverberated through Eze's consciousness, a disconcerting realization that left him unsettled. The very idea of having his memories tampered with, erased like chalk on a board, wasn't very comforting.

"Secondly," Anansi continued, its voice weaving webs through the silent air, "I kinda had this whole plan with the cave, and I can't really reset time all too often." The admission hints at the spider's limitations.

"And also," Anansi added with an almost nonchalant tone, "I kinda sorta bound myself to you. So we're like this...until you die. Of old age. I think." The spider punctuated its statement with a rhythmic shake of its head as if accentuating each full stop.

A booming knock shattered the surreal bubble Eze was in, courtesy of Anansi's abrupt exit. Ulu's voice, a mix of impatience and concern, invaded the room, heralding the intrusion into Eze's private moment.

" EZE! I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU SINCE OH!!" Ulu's voice echoed with the urgency of a woman armed with a broom and a mission.

"Eh? What's happening?" Eze mumbled, caught in the awkward transition between the spider-infused madness and the incoming dose of reality of Ulu's presence.

"Huh?" Eze blurted, stuck between the mystical remnants of his encounter with Anansi and the approaching practicality of Ulu. The room, once filled with spider energy, now hung in a brief silence.

Ulu swung the door open with a determined sweep, broom in hand like a seasoned warrior ready for battle. Her purposeful strides brought her closer to Eze.

"We have to finish this before 3 oh. And it's 12. You still need to eat lunch soon sef." Ulu's words came in rapid succession, her demeanor unshaken by the morning's peculiarities.

Gently, she approached him, maternal instincts on full display as she placed a warm hand on his forehead. "Hope no headache lately?" Ulu inquired, her concern genuine and tangible.

Before Eze could muster a response, Anansi's unmistakable voice echoed within him, a stern warning resonating in the depths of his mind.

"Don't even think about it."

A forced, but casual smile played on Eze's lips as he assured both Ulu and the lurking spider, "Nope, no issues here."

He really did have no choice.

In the ensuing hours, Eze found himself stuck in a dance of domesticity, which was guided by a symphony of scrubbing. Also occasional creak of worn-out floorboards. Ulu, her tenacity unmatched, directed their cleaning with great efficiency. Excluding the 13 minutes reserved for beans and plantain (yum!), Eze found himself knee-deep in cleaning duties alongside Ulu, scrubbing and mopping every nook and cranny of the house, transforming it into a realm of near-spotless glory. Anansi, however, didn't miss the opportunity to complain and moan throughout the entire cleaning process. What can a spider-spirit do in this situation?

"Anansi, now that you have me, what exactly do you plan on doing?" Eze finally voiced his inquiry, the question hanging in the air amidst the cleansing ritual.

"I thought I told you already, Eze. I'm bored. I want to see what being a superhero is like for a change," replied Anansi's disembodied voice, its tone mingling with the sound of scrubbing bristles against the floor.

"As in how exactly?" Eze probed further, his curiosity evident in the pauses between his movements.

"How often do you plan on pestering me with questions, Adi?" the voice shot back, impatience lacing its ever ethereal cadence.

"Well, it's not MY fault at least. I didn't even know African gods existed. Now, there's one living with me for all of eternity. Isn't there?" Eze remarked, carrying a mixture of bemusement and acceptance as he continued his cleaning duties.

"At least, you're taking this better than before," the spider added.

"Such a magical thing it is, right? The way 9ja makes people acceptant of the crazy in the world," Eze mused, a wry smile playing on his lips as he continued to scrub away the remnants of the day.

"Or maybe that's just my emotional manipulation kicking in," the spider chimed in slyly, a subtle admission of its influence.

"Whatever you sha did, it's working," Eze conceded.

A few hours later, people started to arrive back.

"Eze! Welcome back!" exclaimed an energetic voice. Eze found himself getting smothered by hugs, but only by one pair of arms.

"Thank you, Anjola," Eze said with a smile after he'd managed to keep her at arm's length.

Another boy walked past Eze, seemingly unwilling to acknowledge his return. Eze observed his departure with a sad smile lingering on his face. His attention shifted when he felt a tap on his shoulder, turning to find a familiar, always-welcoming smile.

"It's good to see you back again, E-Eze," she said, her voice carrying a hint of timidity. From the plastic bag she held, she pulled out a piece of chocolate and offered it to him.

"For me?" Eze asked, surprised by the unexpected gesture.

She responded with another smile. "There's no one else here, is there?" Joyce said.

If he wasn't black-skinned, you would be able to notice the slight blush he had as he looked down to stare at the chocolate again. Then, a thought crossed his mind.

"Wait, where's Obinna?" he inquired.

"I-I'm not sure. I think he might have walked Chinwe home or something," came Joyce's timid reply.

"No way!" Eze exclaimed, his surprise evident, just as more kids, clad in their school uniforms, started to pour in. They all appeared to be from the Nursery school, radiating genuine excitement at his return. "Eze's in the house!" one of them shouted, and in the middle of their conversation, they swarmed around him, happily parading in a circle.

Soon enough, night had draped itself over Okafor's orphanage. The cleaning, though not overly strenuous, had left Eze drained. And as he slumped down, the world around him had turned into a mosaic of muted colors, with his fatigue pulling at the edges of his consciousness. Eze's weariness wasn't solely physical though. These days, Nights had grown heavier, dreams more elusive, and the burden of the extraordinary pressed upon him with increasing insistence.

Yet, amidst the night's silent symphony, a persistent voice echoed within his mind, disrupting his impending slumber. The Mini-god, an enigmatic presence that refused to yield to quietude, spoke with a quiet insistence.

"Adi, I want to go outside."

A simple request.

"Why?" he replied, turning over in his bed.

"What if I said that there was something nearby?"

"Something like what?"

"A robbery." the spider spoke in his mind.

"Anansi," Eze said, sitting up. "What reason do I have to listen to you right now?"

"I'm not sure," the spider replied.

"I feel like I'm not being told enough here," he said, a hint of confidence now entering his voice.

The Spider sighed. "Stupid orphan. Why must we argue over everything?"

"How is this an argument?" Eze asked.

The spider was silent for a few moments.

"I just want to know more, Anansi. Is that such a bad thing? Aren't you a story weaver after all?" Eze said, a smile growing on his face.

"I am trillions of years old, Eze. I know what you're trying to do. I won't give up information that easy," the voice replied.

"I'm going back to sleep," Eze declared, exhaustion clinging to his every word. He turned away and did just that.

He had constant headaches throughout the night.

THE NEXT DAY

Eze ambled into the living room, his steps sluggish and his eyes betraying the weariness that clung to him like a shadow. The living room felt unusually crowded for a school day.

"The streets of Lagos are still being ravaged by kidnappers. Today, a child on the way to the Okafor family home was abducted, alongside 4 others," the sombre voice of the newscaster echoed through the room.

Eze's attention wavered as his mind wrestled with the information. Was this the same incident Anansi had alluded to, the supposed robbery? They robbed a child? Why were they coming here of all places?

And then it hit him.

Wait a second.

Obinna hadn't returned.

Suddenly, it hit him as to why the mood here was severely damaged. Even Anjola seemed to be quieter than usual.

"You should listen more often Eze" The spider confidently said in his head.