New York, in a slightly run-down apartnt
Erik Killmonger sat in front of his television, watching the extensive dia coverage of the Mason Industrial Expo. The spectacular fireworks display from last night had kept him awake, filling his mind with restless thoughts.
Gene Mason had everything—power, influence, cutting-edge technology. But Erik? He was just a nobody, a discarded soldier living in obscurity.
His fists clenched involuntarily as anger bubbled up inside him.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
By birthright, his father should have been the King of Wakanda. But instead, he had been murdered—executed in cold blood by that despicable tyrant, the current ruler, T'Chaka.
Erik had sworn an oath to himself: One day, he would return to Wakanda. One day, he would reclaim what was rightfully his.
Suddenly, the dim apartnt was illuminated by a golden glow. A circular portal materialized before him, shimring with unnatural energy.
At that mont, the sunlight streaming through the windows faded. It was as if an unseen force had enveloped the room, snuffing out all external light. Only darkness remained.
And then—two glowing, crimson eyes erged from the shadows. A sharp, V-shaped visor stared at him, radiating an eerie nace.
Erik's instincts kicked in imdiately. His muscles tensed, and he dropped into a defensive stance. His heart pounded furiously in his chest.
"What the hell are you?" he demanded, his voice a mixture of fear and defiance.
Everything about this intruder defied logic. The way it had appeared, the suffocating aura it carried—it was beyond his understanding.
For a mont, there was only silence. No sound from the city. No hum of electricity. Just his own ragged breathing.
Then, suddenly, Erik felt his throat tighten. An invisible force wrapped around his neck, cutting off his air.
"Relax," a cold, synthetic voice echoed in his ears. "If I wanted you dead, you would already be dead."
The distortion in the voice was unsettling, but strangely, it had an oddly calming effect.
"I'm here to help you."
The voice was like a devil's whisper, slithering straight into his mind. "You desire the throne of Wakanda, don't you? I'm offering you the chance to take it."
Erik's pupils contracted. His whole life had been leading to this mont.
"Why should I believe you?" he asked through gritted teeth. "Wakanda is no ordinary nation. You have no idea what you're up against."
A chuckle, low and mocking, ca from the darkness.
"Oh, I know exactly what I'm up against."
With a snap of his fingers, a massive holographic display materialized in midair. It projected a detailed map of Wakanda, highlighting its cities, defenses, and military operations. Classified information scrolled across the screen—data Erik himself had never seen before.
His breath hitched.
"Who… Who the hell are you?"
For the second ti, he asked the question, and once again, the figure ignored it.
"That doesn't matter," the voice said. "All that matters is this—I can put you on the throne of Wakanda. In return, you will provide with a substantial amount of vibranium."
The demand was clear.
Erik's mind raced. Whoever this was, they weren't bluffing. They had access to technology far beyond anything he had encountered. If they could really help him—
"Deal." The word left his lips before he could hesitate. "Tell what I need to do."
The crimson visor glead brighter.
"I'll give you an indestructible body," the voice continued. "And an army of machines that obey your every command."
Erik inhaled sharply.
This was it. The mont he had been waiting for.
"When do we start?"
The answer ca imdiately.
"Right now."
A golden portal expanded before him, revealing a corridor leading into the unknown.
The figure stepped through without hesitation.
Erik stared into the swirling gateway. His gut twisted in apprehension, but he crushed the feeling. There was no turning back now.
With a deep breath, he stepped forward.
The passage closed behind him.
__
Inside the underground Hive Base, Erik felt his skin prickle as a sterile, artificial air surrounded him.
"I see vengeance has consud you," the voice said, its tone unreadable. "Good. We will begin your transformation imdiately."
Without hesitation, Erik climbed onto the surgical platform, lying down as instructed. His heart pounded, but his resolve was ironclad.
"Red Queen, Skynet—begin the procedure."
At the command, an array of chanical arms descended from above.
"Wait a minute—Skynet? Red Queen?" Erik's eyes widened as realization struck. "You… You're—"
A sharp, searing pain shot through his spine. His world blurred.
Darkness consud him.
__
When Erik awoke, he felt… different.
His senses were sharper. His body felt heavier, yet strangely weightless at the sa ti. He sat up, his movents unnervingly smooth and precise.
"Subject No. 1, report your status."
A cold, emotionless female voice rang in his ears. The image of the Red Queen materialized in front of him, her gaze devoid of warmth.
"What… happened to ?" he muttered.
A holographic display blinked into existence, showcasing an intricate blueprint of his new body.
"Your organic tissues, bones, and organs have been replaced with advanced cybernetic enhancents," the Red Queen stated flatly. "Your physical strength, durability, and reflexes have been increased exponentially. Only your brain and reproductive organs remain unaltered."
Erik's breath hitched. His fingers flexed—his limbs felt natural, but he knew they weren't. His entire body had been chanized.
And yet, he felt no pain. Only power.
"You should be honored," the Red Queen continued. "You are the first successful experintal subject created by the Creator."
The Creator.
The one who orchestrated all of this.
Erik clenched his fists. He had always believed in strength. And now, he possessed more power than he had ever dread possible.
A dark smile crept across his face.
"I feel… incredible."
"Good," the Red Queen said. "Subject No. 1, proceed to the testing chamber for final diagnostics."
As the doors slid open before him, Erik took his first step forward.
A new Killmonger had been born.
And soon, Wakanda would tremble before him.
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