The evening sun cast long shadows across Kumasi's bustling streets as Yaw began his delivery rounds. The weight of the mysterious device in his backpack seemed to grow with each step.

  "Hey, errand boy!" A familiar voice called. Kofi, another delivery runner, pedaled his rusty bicycle alongside Yaw. "Heard you topped the class. Not bad for a street kid!"

  "News travels fast," Yaw managed a tired smile. "How's business today?"

  "Slow. But you should see what I found!" Kofi reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled lottery ticket. "I think this might be the one."

  "That's what you said last week."

  "Yeah, but this time—" Kofi's eyes widened, focusing on something behind Yaw. "Watch out!"

  Yaw spun around to see Kwame's driver parking a sleek black SUV by the curb. The back window rolled down, revealing Kwame's smirking face.

  "Well, if it isn't the scholarship champion," Kwame drawled. "Still playing messenger boy?"

  "I have work to do," Yaw turned away, but two of Kwame's friends had already stepped out of the vehicle.

  "That's an interesting device you got today," Kwame continued. "Father says ancient artifacts can be quite valuable. It would be a shame if something happened to it."

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  The device in Yaw's bag pulsed warmly, as if responding to the threat. Kofi positioned his bicycle between Yaw and the boys.

  "Back off, rich boy," Kofi warned. "This isn't your prep school playground."

  "Stay out of this, bicycle boy," one of Kwame's friends sneered. "Unless you want your family's shop to have an accident."

  Yaw felt something stir inside him – anger, but also something else. The device's pulsing grew stronger.

  "Last chance," Kwame called. "Hand it over, and maybe we'll still let you keep your scholarship."

  "I earned that scholarship," Yaw's voice came out steadier than he felt. "Just like I earned first place."

  "You think you can—" Kwame started, but a new voice interrupted.

  "Is there a problem here?"

  Everyone turned to see Mr. Akrobeto standing nearby, his simple clothes belying the power in his stance. The stranger's words echoed in Yaw's mind: "Seek out Mr. Akrobeto when the time comes."

  "Mr. Akrobeto," Kwame's voice lost its edge. "We were just talking—"

  "Get in your car," Mr. Akrobeto's tone left no room for argument. "Now."

  As the SUV pulled away, Mr. Akrobeto turned to Yaw. "The device they mentioned. May I see it?"

  Yaw hesitated, then carefully removed the artifact from his bag. The moment Mr. Akrobeto's eyes fell on it, something changed in his expression.

  "So it's time," he murmured. "Tell me, Yaw, have you noticed anything strange? Any voices? Visions?"

  "How did you—"

  "Not here," Mr. Akrobeto cut him off. "Finish your deliveries. But be careful. The streets aren't safe tonight." He handed Yaw a business card. "Come see me tomorrow. There's much you need to learn."

  As Mr. Akrobeto walked away, Kofi whistled low. "What was that about?"

  "I don't know," Yaw replied, watching Mr. Akrobeto's retreating figure. "But I think—"

  A scream cut through the evening air. Yaw turned to see a truck barreling down the street, its driver slumped over the wheel. And it was heading straight for a group of schoolchildren crossing the road.

  The device in his hands erupted with light.

  Time seemed to slow.

  And everything changed.