It is a beautiful sunrise in Kingdom of Wakanda. A reddish gold sun rises above the horizon, casting a glow over the dew covered flowers and grass that surround and are distributed amidst Wakanda's buildings and skyscrapers. The elevated huts of its residential neighborhoods encircle the futuristic town center. The buildings themselves are unconventionally shaped, and are mostly oval, allowing the rays of the rising sun to envelop each of the buildings in a cocoon of stunning golden light. However the Pride of Wakanda, Wakanda's biggest, tallest and most important building dominates the city's skyline by shining the brightest of all in the morning sun. It is here, at the very epicenter of Wakandian science, culture, religion and history that the attack begins. A mother comforts her teen-aged son as they exit from its sparring grounds into the Pride of Wakanda's courtyard garden.
" You have failed to honor your family and house today."
The young man stares at the ground wordlessly. Shame is written across his face and uttered with every plodding step.
"Have you nothing to say for yourself? You come from a family of great warriors, men and women who have defended Wakanda from foreign invaders time and time again and you can not even make it into the top 50% of your combat class?"
His young face, marred by a swollen eye and an assortment of bruises, wrought itself into frustration as he tried to measure the words that he must say in response to his mother's criticism. Haltingly, he speaks.
"I… I am sorry Mamah. I will not fail our house again."
"You had better not… I will cover for you with your father; tell him that you fell ill. That will give you a few days to recover from your wounds, but I expect that you will use that opportunity to train for your next fight?"
"Yes Mamah, thank you, I will be victorious… I love you Mamah"
"Son, I too love you bu..."
The woman is cut off by explosions that rock the courtyard, infecting the morning's blue sky with a silver hue as the top eastern side of the Pride of Wakanda falls off towards the ground and explodes into rolling tide of dust spreading out to the edges of the city. A final explosion on the western side of the building causes the entire top half of the Pride of Wakanda to fall over. The crash and the destruction are absolutely devastating. Amidst the miasma of dust and rubble, a desperate cry rings out. It belongs to a young man, now a boy, searching for his mother.
"Mamah! Mamah! Where are you?"
The entire city complex is shrouded in grey dust, reducing the visibility of all those within to barely the reach of one's outstretched arm. As the boy digs into the dust and debris, his lungs and throat burn from incessant coughing, his nose runs with mucus caked grey dust, and his eyes water from irritation but are irrigated by the tears that he sheds. He eventually finds an arm sticking out from the dust.
"Mamah! Cough-Cough Mamah!"
He digs frantically into the debris surrounding the arm, finally reaching a large concrete slab. He stops to utter a small prayer.
"Great Panther, please grant me strength…"
He wraps his hands around the edge of the slab, tightens his grip and strains with every fiber of his being to remove it. As his muscles ache with tremendous effort, his heads and eyes turn towards the heavens, now obscured by a sea of impenetrable gray. Finally the mass gives way, and the stone slides to the side, revealing his mother underneath.
"NOOOOOO! Mamah! Please wake up!"
He picks up his mother's lifeless body, sobbing uncontrollably while doing so. The pain he feels is inexpressable.
"No… AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"
In the thinning haze of the dust and debris a male silhouette approaches the boy and his dead mother with heavy plodding steps, drawing the boy's attention from his grief. The boy seems to recognize the man. Still sniffling and coughing, he addresses the shadowy figure.
"Combat master, combat master is that you? Please help me! My mamah, she needs help!"
A silence ensues. Within the shade of debris, the boy notices that something isn't quite right with the semblance of a man approaching his location. The silhouette's steps are heavy and slow, as that of an injured man but they are also listless, made without any apparent intent or purpose; as if whatever was approaching him was no longer living but dead. The walking dead. With grief transformed into uncertain fear, the boy entreats the figure once more.
" Combat master?"
The combat master is stooped over, his arms hanging listlessly at his sides, yet his head is cocked upwards to reveal blood-red eyes that burn with a focused rage that is directed like a laser at the young boy. The boy senses this.
"Combat master?"
He loosens his grip on his mother as the combat master lets out a guttural roar that echoes through the ruins of the plaza.
"De… Demons!"
Fear transitions to terror as the boy drops his mother and runs away only to trip over a body after a few feet. He hits the ground hard.
"Ugh!"
The boy scrambles to his feet, only to bump into yet another body except this is one is standing.
"N'Gela?"
N'Gela is stiff and unresponsive, he doesn't not acknowledge the boy's presence in any perceptible way as he desperately pleads for his companionship and aid.
"N'Gela, it's me, we have to get out of here! There are demons! Do you hear me? De…"
Words are cut short as N'Gela grabs the boy by the throat, lifting him off the ground. He then slams the boy back to the ground with unbelievable force, kicking up a small cloud of dust as his body slides several feet away. The world has gone dark for the boy as he weakly opens his eyes to see a dark grey and silver sky. He turns his head to see his former friend, N'Gela, approaching him with deadly menace. N'gela is joined by the combat master and both their eyes are blood red with malicious intent. The boy realizes he is going to die, and that his death will be at the hands of those he knows and trusts. The last thing he sees is N'Gela's hand reaching for his face as his eyes close and everything fades to black.