Erik was walking down the mountain, stepping onto a narrow path surrounded by large, jagged rocks, when a sudden tingle crept up the back of his head.
He stopped dead in his tracks. His spider-sense was warning him.
Something felt off.
He took a breath, held it, and focused—his senses sharpening as his instincts kicked in.
Wait. Spider-sense. Focus.
Inhale, exhale… just like I learned. He whispered to himself.
He stayed still, tuning into the strange sixth sense that had become more familiar over time. At first, meditation had just been a tool to help him control his chi. But soon, he realized that when he truly focused—when he locked in on that spider-sense. It was like he could see the danger.
Looks like some… uh, guys? I think? Maybe with swords?
He focused harder, heart rate steady. Able to sense the location of the ambushers.
This whole spider-sensing radar thing is new. Guess I still gotta' figure out how to use it.
Still, he didn't turn back.
He kept walking, calm and quiet—straight into the trap.
Suddenly, eight figures leapt out from behind the rocks, rushing toward him with weapons drawn. Some carried swords, others daggers or spears. Their movements were sharp and coordinated, like wolves pouncing on prey.
"A little birdie told us… you were leaving without saying goodbye." Said one of them, a man wielding a curved sword.
Without hesitation, Erik moved. He twisted, flipped, and weaved through their strikes with sharp acrobatics.
His foot landed hard in an attacker's gut, the impact sending the man flying several meters. He hit the ground hard, coughing blood before falling unconscious.
Erik slid into a more open area behind the rocks, body loose but alert, eyes on the group.
"Seemed like a good opportunity to kill the heir…" The swordsman continued, stepping forward with a smirk. "…and take his place."
But before he could raise his weapon again—
SHNK!
A blade burst through his chest from behind.
"Huuh…?" He gasped, coughing blood as his smirk vanished, pain twisting his features. He dropped to his knees, trembling.
"Nhhh… You… You traitor!" He spat, struggling to turn his head to look at the one behind him.
"Death Dealer…"
The others froze as the assassin stood behind the dying man, his face arboring a big smile, his blade dripping.
"Come on, guys, don't look at me like that…" Said Li, still holding his bloodied blade. He waved his free hand casually, like he had just bumped into a friend on the street. "I'm just having fun." He added with a grin.
One of the assailants charged with a cry, his sword raised high.
CLANG!
Li parried effortlessly, stepping into the man's swing with almost theatrical flair.
"You! You were the one telling us to attack him!" The man shouted, blade locked with Li's.
"I know, I know—don't be mad now." Li said, tilting his head, eyes gleaming cheerfully. "Can you forgive this poor soul?" He asked mockingly, voice dripping with false remorse.
Then, in a flash, Li twisted his wrist. SLASH!
His blade carved through the attacker's forearm, making him cry out and drop his weapon. Before the man could even react.. SHHK!— Li's blade was buried in his throat. The cruel smile never leaving his lips.
Meanwhile, behind them—
Erik moved like a shadow come to life.
Two attackers rushed him from opposite angles—daggers raised. Erik ducked low beneath their swings, his hands hitting the dirt as he backflipped over one, landing with feline precision on a rock behind them. His enhanced senses guided every motion like instinct.
One attacker turned just in time to see Erik's foot slam into his chest, sending him crashing into a boulder with a wet crunch.
Another lunged, blade aiming for his back—but Erik spun, caught his wrist mid-air, and crushed it in his grip with a sickening crack.
The man instantly screamed in pain before Erik silenced him, pulling him forward into a brutal knee to the face that shattered his nose and knocked him out cold.
Two more came at him with spears. Erik jumped, twisted mid-air like a corkscrew, and landed between them. In the same breath, he grabbed the tip of one spear and yanked, pulling the wielder into the path of the other's strike.
STAB!
One attacker impaled the other in the stomach, eyes wide with horror.
Erik finished the last man with a devastating punch—his enhanced strength sending the assassin flying backwards, unconscious before he even hit the ground.
In less than 15 seconds, the four were dead.
Li stepped beside him, slowly wiping the blood off his blade with a cloth as if he'd just wrapped up a painting session.
"Well" Li said lightly "Seems like your stuck with me."
Erik didn't answer. His fists were still clenched, his eyes scanning the scene in silence.
"It was your doing?" He asked, his voice calm—but sharp.
Li shrugged, one hand casually resting on the hilt of his sword.
"Uh… yeah" He said, almost sheepishly, scratching the back of his head like he'd just admitted to spilling a drink. "I was just bored, y'know? Needed some… distraction."
He chuckled, light and careless, as if eight men hadn't just died trying to kill them.
Erik didn't respond right away. He stood there, blood on his knuckles.
His expression was unreadable—like stone carved by pressure and fire. Whatever was going on behind those eyes, it wasn't amusement.
Li looked back at him, smile fading just a bit.
"…What? Don't tell me you didn't have fun."
Erik's silence answered for him.
- A few hours later - In the Mountain -
A few hours had passed. Night had fallen like a velvet curtain over the mountains, the sky stretching endlessly above them full of stars.
Erik and Li sat in silence around a crackling fire in the wilderness. No buildings, no people, just rocks, shadows and the wind whispering through the trees.
The flames flickered across their faces—Erik still, pensive.. Li rocking slightly, warming his hands like he had no care in the world.
"Any news about M'nai?" Li asked eventually, breaking the silence, his eyes not leaving the fire.
Erik didn't answer right away. His jaw tightened slightly as he stared into the flames.
M'Nai..
He hadn't seen him since their last conversation. It didn't surprise him.
M'Nai was built for obedience—shaped by the Ten Rings the way a sword is forged by fire. Discipline. Duty. Loyalty. That was his entire identity.
But the organization he bled for was gone now.
And someone like him... someone built on duty.. What's left when the thing you live for just stops existing?
Li shrugged, then let out a short breath, his tone light. "Did he ask you to lead the remains?"
"Yeah. Something like that" Erik muttered, his eyes still fixed on the fire, the flames reflecting in his pupils like echoes of some war long past.
He had asked him to take the lead, to rebuild the Ten Rings from its ruins.
But Erik refused.
Instead, he offered the young man a way out. A chance to walk away. To start over.
But M'Nai had just smiled—polite, detached—and declined. No anger. No disappointment.
Just the quiet resolve of someone who'd already made peace with staying in the past.
Li smirked. "He came to me too, after you turned him down. Poor guy looked like a desperate kid who lost his home."
Of course he did.. Erik tought. He honestly didn't know whether to respect it… or pity him.
But Li? He'd just laughed it off. Brushed M'Nai aside like he was pitching a role in a bad play.
That was the difference.
M'Nai was a servant of something bigger than himself. Erik was a destroyer. And Li?
Li was only here for the show.
Erik's hand tightened slightly over his leg as the fire crackled again.
"The Ten Rings died when Wenwu walked away. What's left is just… ashes." Across the fire, Li exhaled sharply, tossing another twig into the flames like a child skipping a stone across water. Always amused. Always unbothered.
There was something wrong in how easily he floated through all of it—death, betrayal, endings. As if none of it carried weight.
The fire crackled gently, its warm glow flickering against the rocky walls and painting both their faces in amber and shadow. Erik barely moved, his body still. His gaze locked on the flames.
It had been forever since he and Li could just talk. Or even sit still. The world they came from didn't allow for relaxation and waste of time. Being able to sit calmly and just breathe felt like something out of another life. And Erik felt it in his bones: this calmness wouldn't last. It never did. So he held on to it for just a moment longer. Just one more breath in peace.
He didn't want to think about M'Nai, the Ten Rings or where the road ahead would take him.
For now, he pushed those thoughts away—buried them deep.
Even convinced himself to forget… that Li, sitting across from him poking at the fire.. Was a murderer with a very slim moral compass.
This can't last.
And I think we both know it… Erik thought, staring into the flames.
He said nothing, but when he glanced up.. He caught Li giving him a curious look—half-interested, half-amused.
Erik didn't return it. He just looked back at the fire, letting the silence speak for both of them.
Unbeknownst to both Erik and Li..
Two hours after their altercation in the mountains. A group of people arrived at the scene.
The wind carried the faint smell of blood as they approached cautiously, stepping over fallen leaves and broken weapons.
"Are they all dead?" Asked a man cloaked in black, his face hidden beneath a hood and a dark cloth mask that covered him up to the nose. A sword hung sheathed at his side, the hilt worn from long use.
Several of the newcomers dispersed immediately, kneeling by the bodies, checking pulses and inspecting wounds.
The leader himself crouched beside one of the corpses. He lifted the man's blood-soaked shirt and revealed a deep indent over the chest, a single fist mark that had shattered the bones completely.
"Yes. All dead" confirmed the man standing at his side—masked, long purple coat brushing against the dirt.
"Are Death Dealer and Killmonger among them?" The leader asked, his voice sharp with irritation and—beneath that—just a trace of something else. Worry, maybe.
"No" The masked man replied with a noticeable accent.
"No?" The leader repeated, rising to his feet and glancing across the corpses. "You think it's Killmonger's doing?" He asked, turning to face the man beside him. "After all… you know him better than I do, Midnight."
Midnight—otherwise known as M'Nai—let out a slow breath, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon. "Yes. I wouldn't be surprised." He said calmly.
"You wouldn't?" Asked the leader again, watching him closely.
"No. After all, he hates what we are." M'Nai answered, still calm and still detached.
The leader clenched his fist for a heartbeat, then slowly exhaled, brushing away the tension. "What a pity." He muttered, his gaze drifting to the bodies. "Eight potential recruits… wasted."
M'Nai looked down at the corpses, his expression unreadable. "What do we do with them?"
The leader tilted his head. "Let's give them a proper burial."
But M'Nai shook his head. "No.." He said evenly. "I was talking about Death Dealer and Killmonger."
"…Oh." The leader paused, thinking for a long moment before lifting his eyes to the mountain path. "Let's wait. See if they come to us. If not, we leave them be for now. We have more important matters. The whole underground is in chaos. Everyone's trying to crown themselves the new boss."
M'Nai nodded slowly. "I agree. Killmonger is dangerous. It's better to leave him alone" He said in a low, serious tone, his gaze firm now.
"I know" The leader replied simply.
Then he turned and gestured to his men, who began digging graves.