[Slokais]

As voting began to close across Kolda, Ousmane was in his room at the Thinagou Estate in Guediawaye. From here he had used multiple proxy VPN’s and emails to send information to a DAP field office. There had not been a public statement, had his message come off as crazy? Ever since returning from Brissiac, Ousmane had been a good son, to get closer to his father. Through that, the Diawara operation was clear. His classmates, kidnapped back in high school, had not been killed by the military but sold to the Diawara for unknown reasons. This explained why the officer had not taken Ousmane. Even then his father was part of this dirty conspiracy. He couldn’t stand to even look at his father. Yet, now was not the time to reveal his true intentions.

Ousmane and Joseph had been invited to the Presidential Palace for a KLF-U election event. Or rather a victory party waiting for officials to sound off another 5 years of KLF-U reign. Among the guest names was a who’s who of the politicians and economically powerful. Although in Kolda, those worlds came together quite often. The Thiangou’s limo pulled into the Palace Gardens, a beautiful landscape of native plants and flowers illuminated by multi-colored lights.
“Welcome, Monsieur’s to the Presidential Palace,” a butler said as various journalists photographed Ousmane’s father. The soon VP to be. With his placement on the ticket, tabloids had begun to cover the Thiangou’s more and more often. Not in a critical way, as many received funding from KLF-U members or were state-owned but in almost propaganda “get to know them” way. Ironic for a country built on a socialist party to be some consumerist, but regardless Ousmane entered the Palace.

The Presidential Hall was a long ballroom with a large TV projected on one wall, tuned to the state-run Voice of Kolda. Every few minutes there was a cheer as another seat would be announced. Soon, the inevitable KLF-U victory would come and President Senghor would almost certainly make an acceptance speech. Joseph was soon engulfed in conversation with other party officials, many of whom were both personal friends of the family and were members of Diawara faith.
“Congratulations,” someone said to Ousmane
“What?” he responded
On the TV screen, was a list of seats called for the KLF-U, including Ousmane’s. Whether he wanted it or not, Ousmane would enter Parliament starting in 2025. Despite this, the mood became less celebratory as the DAP-RPA alliance unexpectedly had already won a dozen seats across the country. Either way, the Presidential results would soon be called, or would they?

Jemus Jammeh sat in his control room monitoring the ongoing situation. His daughter had gone missing. Jemus was still unsure why he cared so much. Born through wedlock, she had been quickly set up for adoption after it was discovered she was not the next host of Darwla. Yet, still, at this time, Jemus wanted all of his children to return from abroad. There were at least a dozen more across the world, yet Mbaye as she not now called herself was special. Well-educated and well-connected, he had monitored her progress since she arrived in the city. A false report had brought her back to Kolda, but it was her curiosity that brought her here. Darwla had fated it.

Suddenly, multiple explosions rocked the faculty. Jemus ran to the window and saw multiple fires near the city’s perimeter.
“Darwla, status report,” he said
“Fence integrity has been disrupted in Sectors 3, 9 and 11. Multiple non-citizens have entered the city” the AI responded.
“Alert all units to those sectors”
Suddenly, the power went out across the entire city, and a few seconds later the tower’s emergency generator turned on.
“Darwla, please turn on the tower’s defensive systems,” he said as white robes ran through the street.
“Already done,” Darwla responded.

Julie ran through the city’s streets. The darkness shielded her unit's movements as they split off, and Julie and Beghari turned towards the re-education center.
“You believe your friend is there,” Beghari said as they ducked behind a barrier.
“Yes, if she is the daughter of Jemus, he must have sent her to be re-educated,” Julie said as she checked her ammo.
“IF?” Beghari responded
“Technically she could be the daughter of several other leaders within the Diawara”
“Damn it, Julie”

Daoula had arrived at the power plant too late, as soon as insurgents came they left. Although not before disabling the power. There had been some losses, although many were wearing white uniforms. As Daoula walked through the site awaiting orders she noticed one of the bodies wearing a white uniform had a strange device around his waist.
“We will handle this matter,” a voice said from behind her.
A military officer dressed in all black obscured his face with a helmet and stood behind her. Daoula recognized the uniform as part of the National State Intelligence Unit (NSIU) unit. Fearned as a branch of the secret police which terrified both friend and foe. NISU involvement meant the attack was more than a simple night-time raid.

Jemus quickly assembled his inner circle, the Red robbed mothers including Mary who had birthed the Savior, several top scientists, and his closest spiritual and military advisors.
“We are under attack,” he said as they gathered in the pod-shaped lounge that connected his office with several others in the tower.
“Diawara gave us a report”
“Several dozen hostile units, some near the Re-Education Center some approaching the Center City”
“She speaks,” Jemus said
“What about the security forces?” one of the Mother’s asked
“They are occupied with other matters, the few in the city are currently engaged,” Jemus said
“We were abandoned,” another Mother said
“Be quiet..before you get exiled!” Jemus yelled, clearly agreeing but not happy with her speaking.
“Is escape the only option?” the Savior said
“Yes”, Diawara AI said, answering his question without being prompted, a clear sign of her growing intelligence.
“Our creator has spoken,” Jemus said

Al-Ebrahim had been fighting for his people for years, from parliament to the battlefield. With God as his witness, he fought both the non-believers and the government. Al-Ebrahim took notice when Moujerrians began to report strange activities in the bush near the ancient city of Kolda. After his legal attempts in Parliament were blocked, Al-Ebrahim refused to attend and stated he would serve his people within his homeland. In 2021, after a series of murders by government troops, Al-Ebrahim armed himself and led an attack on a military prison. Freeing his new comrades in the SLF, Al-Ebrahim became the most wanted man in Kolda as he was expelled from parliament. A younger him didn’t endorse violence, yet when the government didn’t play by those same rules, Al-Ebrahim embraced it. He also favored the close kill, the bullet was often described as the end of bravery and thus Al-Ebrahim began to bring a traditional sword to the front.

Now, Al-Ebrahim fought through the streets of New Kolda, his comrades breaking down doors and freeing those inside. The resistance they met was quickly put down as Al-Ebrahim waited for Jemus to make an appearance.

They called him the Savior, born in 2010 to Mary and Joseph. He was proclaimed at birth as the savior of the Koldan people, a second coming of Christ. God had delivered him to study the texts and deliver miracles to the Koldan people. At age 5, Savior healed an elderly man of his blindness, at age 11 he heard from Diawara herself the first time. In a nation of ethnic segregation between Brissicans and Koldans, Savior was born to both. He learned French from his mother, Mary who herself was just a teen when she had delivered the miracle of life.

Now, the Savior was leaving his only home. In a helicopter with his mother and the other mothers and children of the Inner Sanctum of Diawara. Before he walked up the ladder to the roof, Jemus turned to him. He would be leaving by vehicle.
“Savior, your day of enlightenment your 15th year is coming soon,” Jemus said
“Indeed, glory be to God I will see the day” Savior replied.
“This is only temporary, 2025 will be the year of the new Koldan Dawn” Jemus said as Savior boarded the helicopter and flew away.

Al-Ebrahim had reached the main road in and out of New Kolda. Above a helicopter left the top of the central tower.
“Permission to destroy,” a private said, loading his rocket launcher.
“No, it’s not honorable, and Jemus knows that. He will come by road”
As if on command, an armored vehicle sped out of the main square. Jemus was on board. Once it reached a few hundred meters from the tower, the landmines exploded on command. Not enough to destroy it as the SLF’s engineers had calculated but enough to blow out the heavily armored vehicles' back tires. Al-Ebrahim stepped out into the road, his sword drawn, its tip already red with the blood of the Diawara’s guards.
“Jemus, you are a false prophet, the only prophets are named in the Quran” Al-Ebrahim yelled.
When there was no response, Al-Ebrahim spoke again.
“Fight me as an honored man,” he said.
After a few seconds a private asked “Maybe, he is not there, sir”
“He is, back up and let me fight him with my blade”
At that moment, the side door opened and Jemus stepped out with his wooden cane in hand.
“So glad to finally meet, Al-Ebrahim”
“Glad to see you have some honor”
“Indeed,” Jemus said, pulling the top of his cane, and revealing a sword of his own.
“No interventions, man to man.
Jemus bowed and Al-Ebrahim did the same as the fight began. The two circled sizing each other. Al-Ebrahim struck first just missing Jemus before being parried. The two were leaders of great movements, men of power, and influence over aspects of Koldan society. Al-Ebrahim clearly had the greater weapon yet when he finally struck Jemus it was Al-Ebrahim who collapsed.

A bullet rang out from the top of the armored vehicle as a guard had made a direct shot into the SLF leader’s neck. Jemus stepped back, holding a deep chest wound. He pulled his foe’s weapons out of his chest and was pulled back into the vehicle by another guard.

The surrounding forces of the SLF and the DAP stood in shock. The armored vehicle started its engines again, nearly running over the body of Al-Ebrahim as it disappeared into the distance. Surrounded by his comrades, Al-Ebrahim lay at the edge of death.
“Jemus…false prophet..may he be tormented to his end…” he said as the life drained out of him his body sprawled toward the starry sky of his homeland.