Story cover for original dream by akinteye
original dream
akinteye
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akinteye
Ongoing, First published Oct 18, 2025
actionfantasyafricanfantasyafroanimeafrofuturismawakenedpowersdreamermcdystopianlightnovelmythrebornogünrebellionrevolutionsupernaturalurbanfantasyyorubamythology
In a broken world where dreams are a crime, one boy awakens a god.

The rich rule from the skies in neon towers, while the poor are forced to survive under drones, soldiers, and silence. The government has banned "Ogun" - divine power said to be the last gift of the ancient gods. Anyone who awakens it is branded a terrorist.

But destiny doesn't take orders.

Tunji Adeyemi, a 19-year-old hustler from the slums of a futuristic Lagos, only wanted one thing - freedom to dream in a world that kills dreamers. After witnessing soldiers gun down innocent protesters, something inside him snaps.

The rain freezes. Drums from another age echo.
A glowing sigil burns into his skin.
A voice speaks from the old world:

"I am Ogun - god of iron and war. Will you carry my rebellion?"

From that moment, Tunji becomes a target.

The government's Divine Control Bureau, led by the ruthless Colonel Musa and the cold enforcer Fatima, launches a manhunt. Armed drones, elite soldiers, and metallic sorcery descend to erase him before the world finds hope again.

But Tunji is done hiding.

With his friends - Adebayo, Aisha, Chigozie, and Eze - and the power of Ogun roaring through his blood, he vows to shatter the future forced upon them.

Because you can kill a man...
But not the dream he becomes.
All Rights Reserved
actionfantasyafricanfantasyafroanimeafrofuturismawakenedpowersdreamermcdystopianlightnovelmythrebornogünrebellionrevolutionsupernaturalurbanfantasyyorubamythology
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The Evening Of The Morning

17 parts Complete

It was a dangerous night for Squad 4or, as usual, mounted on a checkpoint by a road bordered by bushes on both sides. But, thieves, kidnappers, and bribery, they already strategized for, but what they saw...who they saw after mere little boys ambushed them, left the little boys dead and Agbo; a blooder in Squad 4or, stricken that he didn't sleep for four days; as something he loved doing, it was appalling he didn't touch his wife. The attack had left him tethering at the brink of life and death with three nuts lodged in lethal areas in his stomach, but the man they saw, who warned them never to say his name out loud, made him cross the line easily and his chest began to rise and fall again. That he could lie beside his wife and eat with his family, adding his only son, was appalling to him. His wife wouldn't understand. Touching her down there or having her nipple in his mouth wasn't even close to what he thought about. He thought about a man and he couldn't stop thinking about this man. This man who the book is about, this man who tells tales of his past life, this man who is strong, but always reminds Agbo that something is stronger. And dreadfully, that something was coming. It is also about me, the poor, sacrificial lamb, it is about me, the host of the Almighty.

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