Kemisola Ariyo

Long ago, Agesinkole descended upon the kingdom of Ajeromi like a storm sent by the gods themselves. In a time when injustice walked boldly in daylight, and corruption ruled from throne to marketplace, he stood as the shadow that restored balance. His presence struck terror into the wicked and breathed hope into the weary. And when the kingdom was finally purged-when the last echoes of chaos faded, Agesinkole vanished, leaving behind a legacy carved in fear, reverence, and unbreakable myth. In the years that followed, life found its rhythm again. Mothers told their children stories of the masked terror who defended the helpless. Elders invoked his name to settle disputes. Kings quoted his deeds to remind themselves of mortality. What was once dread became devotion. His legend became a compass, guiding the kingdom toward a fragile but cherished peace. But peace is a living thing... and living things can die. As seasons changed and generations shifted, the memory of Agesinkole became comfortable, too comfortable. Under a new reign, the whispers of greed returned, first as murmurs behind palace doors, then as bold acts in broad daylight. Betrayal slithered its way into the hearts of once-loyal guardsmen. Market leaders began to cheat their people. Chiefs who once swore allegiance to Agesinkole twisted justice to suit their desires. Slowly, like a sickness ignored for too long, corruption found its way back into Ajeromi. And when corruption finds a home, chaos is never far behind. Amid this unraveling, a forbidden love dared to challenge ancient laws. A single choice, born from passion and truth, collided violently with the kingdom's rigid traditions. That conflict set off a chain reaction, shaking thrones, exposing secrets, and tearing open wounds the kingdom thought had long healed. But the final blow came from an act wrapped in desperation... an act that tampered with forces no mortal should ever awaken. In the dead of night, beneath a sky heavy with unspoken dread, an ancient seal, one forged to protect the world from what lies beyond, was broken. The old magic stirred. The earth trembled. And the silence that followed was not relief... it was a warning. Because this time, Agesinkole does not return to restore order. He does not rise to save kings or defend kingdoms. He returns as judgment. As a consequence of every broken oath. As the embodiment of every truth ignored. As the reckoning Ajeromi thought it could outrun. Now, the drums beat differently. The winds carry whispers of his return. And the kingdom stands at the brink of a storm far greater than the one that came before. Agesinkole has awakened, Not as a savior, But as the price that must be paid.