- A Few Hours Later - In a Safe House -
After the chaos at the warehouse, Erik, Death Dealer, and Midnight had made it to the safe house the Ten Rings had set up for them.
The house sat quietly on the outskirts of a small village. Far enough from civilization to avoid attention, yet close enough if they needed to make a quick escape.
As soon as they arrived, they wasted no time in contacting the Ten Rings headquarters.
A helicopter was on its way, though it wouldn't arrive for a few hours. In the meantime, they were left to tend to their wounds.
The safe house was well-stocked.
Food, first-aid kit, weapons, ammunition and even some money were stashed away.
Erik immediately got to work, providing medical aid to the two boys.
Li was in bad shape, with several broken bones and burns across his body. The worst being a large, disfiguring burn on the lower part of his face.
Midnight, on the other hand was luckier. He had a few broken bones but nothing else.
Erik did what he could to treat their injuries and manage the pain with the medication available. But there was little else to be done until they reached the headquarter.
Both of them lay on separate beds in the same room, exhausted from the mission.
Erik stood by the window, keeping watch. His body still stinging from the small burns he'd suffered.
The pain clung to him, but he ignored it. A reminder of the hell they'd just crawled out of.
His gaze shifted to Midnight, who seemed deep in thought staring blankly at the ceiling.
"You holdin' up, Midnight?" Erik asked, breaking the silence.
Midnight turned his head, his face still concealed by his usual mask.
He hesitated, as if weighing something heavy in his mind before finally nodding. After a moment, he spoke.
"You can call me M'Nai. That's my real name... M'Nai." he said softly, his voice tinged with resolution.
Erik gave a small, knowing smirk. "M'Nai.. That's a nice name.." He replied. "You can call me N'Jadaka if you want. That's the name my dad gave me."
The room fell into a stunned silence.
Li, lying nearby turned his head visibly shocked by the sudden exchange of real names.
"N'Jadaka..." Midnight whispered to himself, processing the information.
The boy repeated the name in his head, letting it sink in before asking. "Which country were your parents born ?"
Erik didn't hesitate. "My father came from the Kingdom of Wakanda." He said, his voice calm.
His eyes were focused out the window as if the mere mention of the name summoned a distant memory.
"And you?" Erik turned the question back toward the boy.
"I was born in a small village in Mali." M'Nai said, his voice quieter now as he stared up at the ceiling.
His eyes were distant, as though he was recalling a time and place long lost to him.
- Several Years Earlier - In a Small village in Mali -
"It was the British, Dr. Khan!" exclaimed T'Maka, an African man with a large belly, wearing nothing but a loincloth.
His hand gripped a spear tightly and around him, his village was engulfed in flames. The thatched huts burning to the ground. The air was thick with smoke and despair.
Xu Wenwu stood with his back to the man, his silhouette calm and unmoved by the chaos. "Yes, T'Maka. Once again, the western powers have struck at my plans for world control, like jackals snapping at a crippled lion." Wenwu said, his voice composed, but underneath, there was a simmering fury.
His gaze shifted to a small child sitting on the ground in front of a smoldering hut.
"And who is that screaming infant?" Wenwu asked, curiosity sparking in his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder.
"Why?..Merely another casualty." T'Maka said dismissively, his voice cold. "His parents were among the first to die. His injuries will soon take him too."
He cast a disinterested look at the boy. "His name is M'Nai, but he is of no importance."
Xu Wenwu's attention remained fixed on the child, but T'Maka's anger grew. "I am more concerned about the larger issue.. Retribution! We must strike back at our attackers, Dr. Khan!" His voice quivered with rage as he stepped toward the screaming boy, now irritated by the sound.
"This wailing distracts me! One moment, I'll put the boy out of his misery!" He lifted his spear high, preparing to strike.
"STOP!" Xu Wenwu's voice rang out like a blade cutting through the smoke. His hand rose, commanding immediate obedience. "I am interested in this child."
T'Maka paused, his spear frozen in the air. Confusion washed over his face. "But... Why?" He lowered the spear, incredulous. "He's ugly now... useless!"
Ignoring T'Maka's protest, Xu Wenwu crouched down in front of the boy, his expression softening as he studied the child.
"Yes, T'Maka..." Xu Wenwu's voice softened, but his words carried a sharp edge.
His gaze remained fixed on the boy as he crouched closer. "Can you not hear it? Even though he is merely a child, his cries are not of pain." Wenwu said, his fingers gently prying open the boy's eyes to study him more closely.
"...But of hate!"
M'Nai eyes, though red and swollen, were dry. There were no tears—only the fire of something far more potent simmering within.
Xu Wenwu's calm gaze never wavered as he continued, his tone measured and deliberate.
"Emotions are like blown glass." Wenwu said, the poetic words flowing smoothly as his fingers hovered near the boy's face. "Able to be fired, stretched, and molded into beautiful patterns. And HATE... is the most malleable of all!"
He stood slowly, his presence towering over the child, as though he were examining a rare gem in the rough. "This hate.." Wenwu murmured. "Can be shaped into something magnificent. All it requires is the right hands to guide it."
T'Maka looked from Xu Wenwu to the boy, unease growing in his features, as he struggled to understand why Wenwu would spare this child.
But to Wenwu, M'Nai survival instincts, his silent rage in the face of death. Were qualities far more valuable than T'Maka could comprehend.
- Back To Present - Still in the Safe House -
"And that's how it happened.." Said M'Nai, finishing his story.
His voice, though calm carried the weight of a life scarred by violence.
Slowly, he removed his mask, revealing a burned face.
A round face with thick eyebrows, marred by the cruel touch of fire.
Erik showed no emotion, his expression cold and unreadable. He only nodded, a gesture of acknowledgment.
Though it was clear he didn't care about his appearence. In his mind, scars—whether physical or emotional. Were simply a part of life in their world.
Li, lying in the corner, shared the same indifference.
His own face was now partially burned, mirroring M'nai's, and he too had nothing to offer but silent understanding. Pain, it seemed, was their shared language.
For M'Nai, however, recounting the tale seemed to lift a weight from his shoulders.
As the minutes passed, he slipped his mask back on, hiding his face once more. As if erasing the vulnerability he had momentarily allowed himself.
Yet, if one paid close attention, they might have noticed a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. A flicker of relief.
Erik and M'Nai exchanged a few more words, their conversation animating the room while Li stayed quiet. His burns affecting his mouth, making every attempt to speak agony.
Hours passed as the three of them sat together, each lost in their own thoughts bound by their shared pain but too hardened to dwell too much on it.
- 2 Months Later 1995 - Headquarter -
Two months had passed since the warehouse mission.
Killmonger, Midnight and Death Dealer had been airlifted from the safe house just hours after the battle.
They received immediate medical treatment upon their arrival at the Ten Rings headquarters.
Though the mission had its share of casualties, it was hailed as a success.
Fifteen members of the Iron Gang were dead. A devastating blow to a gang that numbered around sixty, with only forty to forty-five considered vital to their operations.
In one strike, the Ten Rings had wiped out nearly half of their key targets, including the Iron Gang's second-in-command.
What followed was a relentless onslaught. The Ten Rings hunted down the remaining members of the Iron Gang with ruthless efficiency, systematically eliminating them one by one.
It was a one-sided war, the Iron Gang crumbling under the unyielding pressure.
Erik was deployed on several missions during this time, his skill and brutality only growing with each operation.
Now, two months later.. The Iron Gang was nothing more than a memory.
Their leader, captured and broken. Lay chained in a dark cell, awaiting the return of Xu Wenwu.
And today, it had finally come. Xu Wenwu was returning !
Whup-whup-whup
The helicopter touched down with a thud, its rotors slicing the air as Xu Wenwu emerged after a few months absence.
He stepped out dressed in a black suit with a crisp white shirt and black sandals, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.
His expression was calm yet unreadable as he moved toward the entrance, where Chancellor Hui awaited him at the doors.
"Welcome back, sir!" Hui greeted, bowing deeply in respect.
Xu Wenwu did not pause, his stride steady and purposeful. Hui quickly fell into step beside him.
As they passed through the large doors, Xu Wenwu's gaze swept over the courtyard.
Groups of Ten Rings members trained in clusters. Some practicing with firearms, others sparring with knives or engaged in hand-to-hand combat.
His eyes observed the scene with quiet intensity.
"I heard things were productive in Afghanistan.." Hui said, glancing at Xu Wenwu.
"Yes!" Xu Wenwu replied simply. "Raza is capitalizing on the region's instability."
"Great to hear, sir !" Hui responded, though there was a trace of hesitation in his voice as if something weighed on his mind.
Finally, he added "We've been keeping busy here, too." He extended a file folder he had been holding.
Xu Wenwu took it, flipping through the contents without breaking his stride. Each page held images of corpses—evidence of the work done in his absence.
Hui continued, his tone firm "We've eliminated every member of the Iron Gang. They were selling weapons in our territory without paying their dues."
Xu Wenwu's fingers tightened briefly around the folder before handing it back, his eyes cold as he listened to Hui's words. The two abruptly stopped in front of a room.
"This is their leader." Hui said calmly, gesturing toward the door.
Without a word, Xu Wenwu returned the file to Hui and silently walked toward the room where the Iron Gang's leader awaited his fate.
The prisoner sat on the cold ground, legs crossed. Bound tightly by ropes that secured his arms behind his back.
A rough sack covered his head casting him into darkness, with two Ten Rings members stationed on either side of him.
The silence was broken by a sudden movement.
Fffffftttt
It was the sound of the sack being removed from the prisoner's head.
Blinking rapidly, the man in his fifties squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light, revealing his disheveled white hair and matching mustache.
His breathing quickened when the silhouette before him became clear.
He lifted his head slowly to meet the cold, unforgiving gaze of Xu Wenwu, who now stood towering over him like a shadow of doom.
"Do you know who I am?" Xu Wenwu's voice was ice, filled with quiet menace as he stared at the man.
The leader of the Iron Gang, eyes wide with fear, nodded repeatedly terror etched in his face.
Xu Wenwu crouched down, his presence looming even closer.
Their eyes locked. "Then you know what happens to those who steal from the Ten Rings." Xu said, his voice low.
The prisoner breaths came in shallow gasps. Each one a desperate attempt to muster courage. "Your men… already killed my family!" he finally managed to say, his voice trembling. "You should finish the job."
For a moment, Xu Wenwu said nothing. Only watching him with an eerie calm. Then, without warning.. His right hand shot out, gripping the man's throat with terrifying speed.
The rings on his arm began to glow, pulsing with a brilliant blue light. Swirling as if they were alive.
Xu Wenwu leaned in close to the prisoner's ear, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Do it yourself." he murmured, his tone full of contempt.
The prisoner breathing became ragged as Xu Wenwu's grip tightened, the weight of his words sinking in like a death sentence.
Time seemed to stretch into an unbearable eternity, the room filled with the tension of unspoken doom.
And then, just as suddenly, Xu Wenwu released him. The rings dimmed, retreating back into their resting place under his suit.
Without looking back, Xu Wenwu stood up turning away from the broken man at his feet.
He walked toward the door, his steps slow and measured and stopped only briefly as he reached Chancellor Hui.
"Let him go!" Xu Wenwu said quietly, his voice devoid of emotion.
Hui stood frozen, momentarily stunned by the order but quickly nodded "Yes, sir!" he muttered, before gesturing to the guards.
The Iron Gang chief knelt on the flagstones, wrists bound, face streaked with ash and grief rather than defiance. He had not wept, not even when they told him how his men died—strangled in alleys, burned in hideouts, throats slit in their sleep. Not even when he was told his sons were found hanging from the beams of their family home.
But now, when he had asked Xu Wenwu to kill him… And the man dismissed him with a cold flicker of disgust—"Do it yourself."
Only now did something within the man crack.
The Chancellor hesitated looking back at his master.
"…Supreme commander." He called after Wenwu's retreating figure. "To free him—after all that—what purpose does—"
Wenwu did not stop walking. His voice cut through the courtyard like sharpened glass.
"If a man wishes for death." He said, "granting it is a kindness. I do not give kindness to my enemies."
The Chancellor lowered his head. And there it was. No pity. No mercy. Wenwu had killed the man already—just not with a blade.
The guard knelt and cut the bonds free.
The Iron Gang chief stared at him in disbelief, trembling.
"Why… why let me live?"
The Chancellor looked at him—not with sympathy, but with a dawning understanding of the cruelty he served.
"Because" He said quietly, "Our leader wants you to understand something before you die."
The man swallowed. "What?"
"That you were never a threat.." The Chancellor said. "The ten rings broke everything you built. Everything you loved. And in the end… you weren't worth killing."
The chief's face twisted—the truth slicing deeper than any sword.
Now he understood what Wenwu had taken from him: hatred. Purpose. Even dignity.
He wasn't just defeated.
He was made insignificant.