Eight-year-old Nyla sat cross-legged on the floor with a crayon in one hand and a small gear in the other, studying both as if they were equally important. The facilitator had just shown the children how to build a simple bridge model, but Nyla had already drifted back to the page in front of her. A river stretched across it in thick blue lines. Little fish swam through the water, and on the bank stood a jaguar, drawn with all the seriousness of a guard.

Around her were loose pages filled with support tools, sketches, and small inventions. Nyla had already surpassed the beginner robotics skill set after spending so much time in the lab with Queen Mother Rochelle and Prince Marquis, tinkering with new inventions.

“I wonder if I could create something that could help people who lack food and water,” Nyla said, mostly to herself. “If they’re able to waste money on big feasts and those boring parties, we could—”

Oshun, sitting beside her with a small wrench in hand, looked over at Nyla’s art project. She smiled and giggled before turning back to tighten a bolt on her bot.

Rochelle moved through the room with the kind of calm that came from learning how to carry too much without letting it show. She paused beside one table to check a child’s drawing, then bent to speak softly to a teacher near the back wall. Marquis was across the room helping a boy tighten a loose bolt on a small machine, his hands steady and patient, his voice low enough not to disturb the children nearby. Together, they made the room feel safer just by being in it.

Nyla’s attention slid toward the window shelf, where altar water sat still in a shallow bowl. The sunlight caught the surface just right, making it flash once like silver. Nyla leaned forward, squinting. Oshun looked over just in time, then followed Nyla’s gaze. At first, it looked like dust. Then it laughed. The shimmer quivered near the bowl, as if something tiny and bright were folding itself out of the air. Nyla and Oshun glanced at each other, then looked back toward the bowl.

Scene 2: Wata Laughs

A tiny woman with wings the color of swamp-light perched on the windowsill, one foot tapping against the glass. “You’re late,” she said, like she had been expecting Nyla all morning. Nyla stared. Oshun stood beside her, and for a moment both girls were too shocked to speak. The tiny woman leaned one elbow on her knee and grinned. “Well now,” she said, her voice soft as porch wind but sharp as a pin, “you finally lookin’ this way.”

Nyla blinked once, then twice. “Who are you?” The tiny woman gave a little bow, floating just above the sill like she owned the whole room.

“Assata,” she said. “Marquis’ sister. Your aunt, if you wanna get technical.”

Nyla’s mouth dropped open. “Pixies? Auntie? A pixie aunt? Maman or Pai never mentioned her. She’s beautiful.”

Assata’s smile widened, full of mischief but not cruelty. “Don’t look so shocked, chile. I’ve been around longer than your baby teeth, and I don’t enjoy bein’ summoned without sugar involved.”

That got a laugh out of Nyla, and Assata looked pleased with herself. She drifted closer to the water bowl, peering into it as if she were reading a message only she could hear. “Mmm,” she murmured. “This place got river talk in it. Good. Means the spirits know where to find me.”

Then she glanced at Nyla, and her expression shifted just enough to turn playful into serious.

“Baby, you got something walking beside ya,” she said. “Don’t be afraid—but don’t go asking its name before it’s ready.”

Nyla nodded, suddenly serious. Across the room, Rochelle looked up from her clipboard. She sensed the shift but did not approach. Her concern stayed hidden behind her calm expression.

Assata’s face softened. “That’s right. You listen quick. I like that.”

Before Nyla could ask another question, Assata’s eyes flicked toward the hallway. Her mouth twisted as if she were smelling something she did not trust.

“Oh lawd,” she muttered. “That man out there look like he been carrying three secrets and one bad idea.”

Nyla turned, but Assata was already drifting back toward the light.

“Assata?” Nyla called. The tiny fairy only laughed.

“I’ll be where the warnings are,” she said. “You just remember that.”

Then she was gone, leaving behind only a faint river scent and the strange feeling that Nyla had just met someone who already knew too much. Nyla and Oshun looked at each other, their words overlapping.

“That was so cool.”

“Wow. She was pretty.”

Scene 3: Nyla’s Helping Hand

As Nyla and Oshun turned away from the window, they noticed a little boy at the back of the room tracing everybody with nervous eyes. Nyla grabbed Oshun’s hand and walked toward him. She stopped a respectful distance away, her body turned slightly aside so she would not crowd him.

“Hey,” Nyla said. “I’m Nyla Nzinga, and this is Oshun Nsimba.” She pointed between herself and Oshun with their joined hands. “What’s your name?” The boy looked between them, confused and startled. He opened his mouth, shut it, and paused. “Kaisiya Obasi,” he said flatly.

“Well, nice to meet you, Kaisiya. Would you like to join Oshun and me to finish building our projects?” Obasi looked at both of them, unsure of what he should do. Nyla held out her free hand, giving him the chance to take it or not.

“Come on, Kaze. I don’t bite.” Nyla grinned.

“Kaze?” he asked, confused.

“Yeah. It’s your nickname, because you try to be all serious and dry, but you’re really a fuse waiting to be lit.” Nyla smirked playfully and sat beside him. Oshun plopped down on Nyla’s other side. Kaisiya’s mouth twitched before he could stop it. Nyla lifted one hand and pointed her index finger toward the table where their materials had been left. She made a small come-here motion.

A light purple current sparked to life. Their tools, parts, and unfinished projects lifted gently from the table and floated toward them, settling carefully on the floor in front of Nyla and Oshun. Kaisiya stared in bewilderment. “How’d you know how to control it like that? You’re so small.”

Nyla shrugged. “I’ve had practice. Oshun can do something similar—and way cooler. Now, let’s get started.” He looked from Nyla to Oshun. Oshun simply shrugged and smiled, giving nothing away.

“You heard her,” Oshun said. “Let’s do this.”

Queen Rochelle and Prince Marquis watched the little group with proud smiles.

“She’s going to make a great queen one day,” Marquis said, never taking his eyes off Nyla.

“You’re damn right,” Rochelle said with a smirk before another staff member pulled her away.

Nyla handed Kaisiya a wrench and showed him where to tighten the bolt. Oshun returned to repairing her bridge. Marquis’ heart clenched at the sight. Nyla laughed at something one of them said. Oshun laughed with her whole body, and Kaisiya tried to cover his laugh with a cough—but failed.

Scene 4: Adonis in Secret

The scene shifted to a quieter, darker room deeper in the center. Adonis trained alone. A punching bag swung on a chain, thudding softly each time his fists connected. Sweat shone along his jaw. His posture was sharp, focused, and controlled.

But he was not only training his body.

On the table beside him were maps marked in red, papers about “stability operations,” news clippings, and notes about Kongo, America, Europe, and Israel. Marquis stood in the doorway watching him, not with judgment, but with the tired love of someone who knew his child was seeing too much too young.

“You’re doing too much,” Marquis said quietly. Adonis did not stop moving. “They’re doing too much,” he answered. “I’m just trying to catch up.” He was not reckless for nothing. He was preparing. He was learning the shape of the lie before it could touch the family. Marquis stepped farther into the room and set a file on the table.

“You don’t have to carry all of this alone,” he said. Adonis finally stopped and looked at him. “I know,” he said. “I just don’t trust them to stop if I don’t.” Marquis opened his mouth to respond, then stopped. A small sound pulled Adonis’s attention toward the doorway. Nyla was there, peeking around the frame with a carved bird pressed to her chest. She had wandered off and found them by mistake.

Nyla studied Adonis for a moment, curious and fearless in that child way that made adults nervous. “You’re gonna break that bag,” she said solemnly. Adonis froze, then laughed under his breath. “That’s the idea,” he said. Nyla tilted her head. “Why?”

Adonis crouched until he was closer to her height. His voice softened immediately. “Because some things need breaking,” he said. “But I won’t break you. Go on back to Maman before she notices you’re gone.” Nyla gave him a look like she was not fully convinced, but she trusted him anyway.

Then she smiled—small, bright, certain. “Maybe one day you can show me. Maman and Pai let me train. Maybe you could come help. Right, Pai?” Marquis nodded, still looking between the two of them.

Adonis reached out and tapped the carved bird lightly. “You keep sneaking around like that and you’re gonna grow into a whole problem.” Nyla giggled, then turned when someone called her name from the other room. Before she left, Nyla looked back once. Adonis gave her the smallest nod and wave, like a promise.

Adonis returned to the punching bag. Marquis watched him, then looked toward the doorway where Nyla had been.

“She’s so much like you, it’s not even funny,” Marquis chuckled. He patted Adonis’s shoulder and kissed the top of his head. “Don’t stay too late. Get home before dinner gets cold. Don’t wear yourself out, and stay safe—”

“Dad, I think I get it,” Adonis said, cutting him off with a light giggle. Marquis gave him a playful scowl, then softened into a smile. “Alright. I love you, my sunshine.” He ruffled Adonis’s hair. “I love you too, Pa,” Adonis called after him.

Scene 5: Closing Time

By evening, the S.T.E.A.M. center began to quiet down. The kids had gone home. The room felt softer, dimmer, and a little tired in that after-school way. Staff members and volunteers carried in more supplies while others prepared the space for lockup. Nyla noticed a woman struggling with boxes at the entrance. She rushed over and held the door open.

“Would you like any help, ma’am?” Nyla asked, taking two boxes. “Yes, please, if you wouldn’t mind, little miss,” the woman said sweetly as she walked inside. Nyla grinned and walked beside her. Rochelle, speaking with a few volunteers, looked up. For one brief second, she sensed a light presence around the woman. A shadow of wings fluttered across the woman’s back. Then someone called Rochelle’s name. She looked away and thought nothing of it for now.

“What’s your name, miss?” Nyla asked as they placed the boxes on the floor. “La’Shay. La’Shay Eyoka,” the tall woman said.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. La’Shay. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening,” Nyla said as they stepped back outside. La’Shay nodded and smiled at the child.

“Thank you for your help. I hope you do too, sweetie.” She waved at Nyla and headed toward her car.

Inside, lights clicked off one by one. The security system activated night mode.

Scene 6: Quiet Watchers

Marquis sat at a desk with a laptop open, looking at a paused news clip. The words on the screen were polished and official, but they felt wrong the second they appeared.

International Partnership for Stability.

Adonis leaned over his shoulder and studied the screen, his eyes narrowing.

“They’re not talking about stability,” he said. “They’re talking about control. They’re trying every way they can to have more surveillance and power. Greed has been running this world for a while, and it has to be stopped. Every system built on corrupt activity and hate has to be exposed.”

Adonis paced from left to right. His braids had frizzed from sweat.

“AD, trust me, I want to expose them as much as you do,” Marquis said. “But we need a plan—something that won’t get traced back to any of us. I need you, Nyla, and Rochelle alive and well. I can’t let them take any of you from me.”

His voice came out harsher than he intended—not cruel, only sharp with love.

“I would rather it be me than any of you. I will choose all of you over allowing them to harm anyone else. But there will always be people fighting against the system.” Adonis dropped into his desk chair.

In the next room, Nyla slept with the carved bird tucked beneath her cheek, safe for now, while the adults sat with the knowledge that the world outside was already moving. Rochelle sat on a cushioned windowsill with a cup of tea. The altar water shimmered. A small light appeared, then slowly unfolded until a tiny woman was visible.

“Assata, what brings you by?” Rochelle asked with a smile. Assata smiled back and began to sing.

“Sistaaaaa, you been on my mindddd.” Rochelle giggled.

Assata poofed into her full-sized form—five feet two inches tall—and covered Rochelle’s cheeks with kisses. Rochelle returned them, laughing softly. They talked for a moment, allowing themselves the comfort of family. “Anyways,” Assata said at last, “now dat we got all tha familiarities and formalities out the way, I came to deliver a message.”

She waved her hand, and a crossword book appeared in Rochelle’s lap. “What’s this?” Rochelle asked, picking it up. At the same moment, a similar puzzle appeared on the desktop and laptop in front of Marquis and Adonis. Above the instructions were the words:

FIGURE DIS OUT SINCE YA KNOW EVERY FUCKING THANG, NERDS.

“Every day, at the end of the day, the puzzles will contain information about this family, their allies, and hidden things,” Assata said. “You will have to work together to understand.” She hugged Rochelle, kissed her cheek, and gave her a smile. “Do the first one now as you make your way to check on your baby.”

Assata waved, then slowly and gracefully faded away, leaving only glitter and a flicker of light. “As—well, okay. I guess I’ll do this.” Rochelle began the first crossword puzzle. Rochelle completed the last square. The answer formed in dark ink across the center of the page:

THE CENTER HAS TWO WATCHERS.

Across the building, Adonis and Marquis solved the same clue on their screens:

THE FIRST FILE IS NOT LOST.

BERNARD HAS THE FIRST FILE.

Nyla slept with the carved bird under her cheek. Blue light gathered around her skin, faint as breath. Above her, green and gold hovered for one quiet second. Rochelle stopped in the doorway. She did not wake her. She did not say the name she was thinking.

“She’s still a child,” Rochelle whispered. The water on the altar settled. Outside, unseen beyond the center’s locked doors, another watcher turned toward the light.