Someone once said that the extremely religious are the most dangerous sect of people there is. Their belief that they are doing it for their God drives them to commit the most heinous crimes without a prick of conscience—their belief protects their conscience.

Early in 2030, Tariku Negasi introduced the idea of Dev, a digital utopia promising paradise unlike any religion preached—a safe haven where peace and order reigned supreme. It was met with mixed feelings, especially among the religious. In Africa, particularly Nigeria, the concept was seen as the tool of the Antichrist, selling a counterfeit paradise built on worldly passions.

Religious leaders condemned Dev as evil, warning against “the agent of darkness” Negasi. They preached fear, exploiting it to gain more influence and resources. Stories and prophecies about the “devil in Dev” spread like wildfire, taking root in the hearts of the faithful—especially the impressionable ones who let pastors and imams do their thinking for them. Fear took root, and its child, chaos, followed. Nigeria spiraled into crisis—economic collapse, social unrest, and escalating violence. People sold their properties to either join Dev or rid themselves of worldly possessions, believing the end was near. Many resigned from their jobs, convinced that the rapture was imminent.

Terrorists sprouted like weeds, targeting Dev centres first but soon turning on anyone associated with the integration. Innocent men, women, and children were slaughtered—all in the name of purging evil. Ironically, this violence pushed more people into Dev, seeking peace amid the hell on earth. Religious extremism had turned reality into a nightmare, forcing people to choose between their lives and their faith.

That was how I found myself in Dev—forced to choose between survival and being hunted. I had blood on my hands, stained by fear and self-preservation. I remember the boy I killed—a kid my age. He never betrayed his friends who had integrated. I convinced myself it was him or me, but that didn’t ease the guilt. I wasn’t a killer, didn’t know how to make it quick, so I just kept going until he stopped moving. His blood soaked into the ground, and my soul felt just as stained.

Nightmares haunted me, his face etched into my mind every time I closed my eyes. I couldn’t escape the guilt or the horror of what I had done. I told myself I had no choice, that it was survival. But the nightmares never agreed.

Finally, I decided to leave that hellish world behind. With friends and family of one mind, we chose the digital paradise over the chaos outside—a final bid for peace. Damned or not, I couldn’t keep fighting a war I didn’t believe in. In Dev, at least, there was quiet—a reprieve from the blood and the endless fear.

Written by Francis Wealth