The police station smelled like old coffee and stale air.
Osaze sat in the back of the patrol car, watching the city scroll past through the window. The lights blurred together—holographic billboards, antigrav vehicles, the glow of late-night restaurants.
And sitting beside him, perfectly still, was the leopard.
Not tiny. Not a cub.
Average-sized. White fur with red spots. Golden eyes that never blinked.
It stared at him.
"You know they're going to ask you about me, right?" the leopard said, its voice casual.
Osaze didn't respond.
"Oh, wait. They can't see me. Never mind." The leopard yawned, showing sharp teeth. "This is going to be fun."
Osaze closed his eyes.
---
The station was busy even at this hour. Officers typing reports. Desk sergeants answering calls. Someone laughing too loud near the vending machines.
Detective Chidi led Osaze through the main floor, past the holding cells, down a narrow hallway. Sergeant Amara walked behind them, her cyborg arms clicking softly with each step.
They stopped at a door. Chidi opened it.
"Inside."
Osaze stepped into a small, dark room. A table. Two chairs. A camera in the corner. The walls were bare except for a one-way mirror.
He sat down.
The leopard padded in after him, jumped onto the table, and sat.
"Oh, I love interrogation rooms," it said, looking around. "So dramatic. So noir. Do they still do the 'good cop, bad cop' thing? Please tell me they do."
Osaze stared at the table.
Chidi and Amara sat across from him.
Chidi placed a holo-tablet on the table, activated it. A holographic display flickered to life—case files, photos, notes.
"Let's start simple," Chidi said, his voice calm. "Why did you attack Stone?"
Osaze looked at him. Really looked at him.
The detective was tired. The kind of tired that came from years of asking questions no one wanted to answer. His eyes were sharp, but there were shadows underneath them. His uniform was wrinkled.
Osaze's voice was quiet. "This isn't really about Stone, is it?"
Chidi's expression didn't change. "What do you mean?"
"You don't look like cops who care about assault charges. You look tired. You look like you're investigating something bigger."
Amara leaned forward, her tone hard. "Answer the question."
Osaze met her gaze. "Yes. I attacked Stone. He deserved it."
"Why?" Chidi asked.
"Because he's been bullying people for years. Because no one else stopped him. Because I was tired of it."
Amara's jaw tightened. "You put a man in the hospital. You broke his jaw. His face is shattered."
Osaze didn't flinch. "Good."
Amara slammed her hand on the table. The metal dented slightly under her cyborg fist.
"You think this is a game?! You think you can just—"
Chidi raised a hand. "Amara."
She stopped, but her eyes stayed locked on Osaze.
The leopard, still sitting on the table, looked at Osaze with something like admiration.
"Wow," it said. "You're really good at this. Like, impressively stubborn. I'm almost proud."
Osaze ignored it.
Chidi watched him for a long moment. Then he sighed, leaning back in his chair.
"Okay," Chidi said quietly. "Okay. You got us. We're not just here about Stone."
Osaze's expression didn't change.
"We're here about your father," Chidi continued. "About what happened the night he died."
Osaze's jaw tightened, but he didn't speak.
Amara's voice softened slightly. "You were there. You saw it happen. We need to know what you saw."
Osaze took a breath.
Then he spoke.
---
He told them.
Two men broke into the apartment. His father fought them. Osaze ran. He came back. His father was stabbed. One attacker died—his father killed him with his own knife. The second attacker escaped.
He didn't mention the racist monologue.
He didn't mention the blood inscriptions.
He didn't mention the evaporating blood.
He didn't mention the promise.
When he finished, Chidi and Amara were quiet.
"Can we investigate your house?" Chidi asked. "The crime scene?"
Osaze nodded. "Yeah. Do what you need to do."
"We need you to describe the second attacker," Amara said. "What did he look like?"
Osaze's voice was flat. "I don't remember."
"You don't remember?"
"It was dark. I was in shock. I don't remember."
Chidi studied him. "You're lying."
Osaze didn't respond.
Chidi sighed. "Alright. We're going to run a standard scan. It maps your neural pathways, checks for inconsistencies. Standard procedure."
"Fine."
---
They brought in the machine.
It was sleek, modern—a halo of sensors connected to a holographic interface. A technician in a lab coat set it up, placing sensors on Osaze's head.
"Just relax," the technician said. "This won't hurt."
The scan began.
The leopard, still on the table, watched with interest.
"Oh, this is gonna be good," it murmured.
The holographic display lit up—mapping Osaze's brain, tracing neural pathways, analyzing patterns.
And then it glitched.
The image flickered. Static. Fragmented.
The technician frowned. "That's... odd."
"What?" Chidi asked.
"There's interference. The scan isn't reading properly."
Amara leaned closer. "What do you mean?"
The machine sparked.
The technician pulled back, cursing. "What the hell—"
The display went black.
The machine shut down.
The technician stared at it, then at Osaze, then back at the machine.
"This country never gives us good equipment," the technician muttered, pulling the sensors off Osaze's head. "Something's damaged."
Dr. Adewale's voice came through the comm-link, defensive. "That device is brand new! What the hell is going on?"
The technician shook his head. "I don't know. But every time I try to scan his brain, the machine breaks down. It's like... it's like something's interfering."
Chidi and Amara exchanged a glance.
"Can you try again?" Chidi asked.
"I can try, but—"
He tried.
The machine sparked again. Smoke.
The technician stepped back. "No. I'm not frying another unit. This isn't normal."
Chidi looked at Osaze.
Osaze stared back, his expression blank.
Chidi sighed. "Alright. Let's work with what we have. You're free to go. For now."
Osaze stood.
"But we'll be watching," Chidi said. "If you remember anything about that second attacker, you let us know."
Osaze nodded, said nothing.
He walked out.
---
The station was quieter now. Late enough that most officers had gone home.
Osaze walked through the main floor, heading for the exit.
He passed a man in a lab coat—tall, four eyes, blue-tinted skin.
Dr. Adewale looked up, saw him, smiled.
"Oh! Hey! You're the kid, right? From the case?"
Osaze didn't stop.
"I'm sorry about your dad. That's rough. I—"
Osaze walked past him without a word.
Dr. Adewale's smile faded. He watched Osaze disappear through the door.
---
Outside, Kemi, Damian, and Kemi's mother were waiting.
Kemi rushed over the moment she saw him. "Are you okay? Did anything go wrong? What did they ask?"
Osaze's voice was tired. "They were a bit harsh. But I'm fine."
Kemi's mother stopped walking. Turned around. Marched back toward the station entrance.
"If I find out they hurt him," she said loudly, "they'll all PUT LEG IN ONE TROUSER!"
Damian gently caught her arm. "Let's go. He's fine. We'll deal with it if we need to."
Kemi's mother muttered under her breath, still glaring at the station. "They better not have touched him. I swear—"
They walked home together, the city lights flickering around them.
---
When they got back to Kemi's house, Osaze was quiet.
He ate the food Kemi's mother put in front of him. He answered their questions. He said he was fine.
But his mind was somewhere else.
Finally, he stood. "I need to go out. Clear my head."
Kemi frowned. "You sure?"
"Yeah. I just... I need a moment."
Damian watched him carefully but didn't stop him.
Osaze left.
---
He walked until he found an abandoned warehouse on the edge of the district.
The building was old, half-collapsed. Rusted metal beams. Broken windows. Graffiti covering the walls.
He stepped inside.
The leopard was already there, sitting in the middle of the empty space, watching him.
Osaze stopped.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Osaze's voice cut through the silence.
"Alright. Enough. What are you?"
The leopard grinned.
"Finally," it said. "Took you long enough."