The dock was bustling with activity as the colossal 10,000-ton cargo ship loomed over the port. Alongside it, two military ships powered by the latest diesel internal combustion engines, sleek and imposing, rested at their moorings. Asazo scratched his head, his eyes following the sailors and dock crew unloading crates, transport equipment, and large trucks. The atmosphere was filled with the scent of saltwater and oil, and the occasional distant shout echoed across the dock as the operations continued with precision. He glanced around at the heavily armed teams encircling the area, their rifles slung casually across their shoulders, eyes scanning for any threat. Despite the busy surroundings, Asazo couldn't help but feel a stirring excitement. He turned to James, his father, standing tall beside him, and whispered urgently.
"Father, what are we doing here? Is this... a battle? Why are all the navy's warships here?"
James glanced at the ironclad ships, his expression unreadable as he observed their imposing presence. He turned back to Asazo with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Isn't it obvious? The navy's ships are produced by the military-industrial department of our family. I simply had them transferred here for the task at hand. What's the problem? Are you opposed to war?"
Asazo, unable to contain his excitement, nearly leapt into the air with anticipation. "War is my favorite! Dad, you're the best! I can't believe you're letting me be a part of something this big!"
James's lips curled slightly into a smile as he watched his son's exuberance. Asazo's passion for conflict and chaos was no secret. The young mutant had an innate love for battle, fueled by a cunning and warlike instinct that seemed to run through his very blood. His mutation, dubbed the "Red Devil" by those who knew him, manifested in both his fierce abilities and his natural inclination for creating and reveling in turmoil.
"I hate to disappoint you, son," James said, his voice steady but laced with a hint of humor. "But this isn't the kind of battle you're imagining. The ships are mostly here to transport supplies, not to engage in a war. But don't worry, you'll have your chance to fight."
Asazo's eyes widened, and he grinned ear to ear. Fighting was the one thing he truly craved, and the mere idea of being involved in anything resembling a battle thrilled him. He had been exposed to violence from an early age, having seen firsthand the brutality that his father was capable of. James had introduced him to the harsh realities of life, even allowing him to help bring justice to heinous criminals and predators. Bloodshed was something Asazo understood intimately, and it excited him in ways that most couldn't comprehend.
The team quickly fell into formation, the troops under the watchful eyes of Remus Pete, known as the "Chief Wolf." Remus was the captain of the secret armed forces known as the "Wolf Pack," an elite group passed down from generation to generation within the Howlett family. The mission was secretive and shrouded in mystery, but for James, it was just another day in the jungle. The leather scrolls James had received from Mr. Daniel had led him to this moment, a journey that began in Kenya and now carried him into the heart of Uganda.
Along the way, they passed through villages where the native people had never seen anything like the massive trucks or the strange clothing of the outsiders. Children and adults alike would pause, staring in awe and fear, some even running to hide, while others curiously watched the convoy pass.
The roar of engines and the clatter of wheels against the rough, uneven ground filled the air as the team ventured deeper into the jungle. The tropical climate of Kenya, with its monsoon rains and high humidity, made it a perfect environment for wildlife—and mosquitoes. Asazo, who had already grown irritated by the incessant buzzing of the pests, tried using his teleportation abilities to escape their grasp, but it was to no avail. The mosquitoes seemed to follow him everywhere, much to his frustration.
He looked over at James, who was walking unfazed through the jungle, his movements calm and deliberate. There was an invisible shield around his father, keeping the insects and other creatures at bay. Asazo watched, envious of the comfort his father seemed to find in the thick of the jungle.
"What's so special about that technique, Dad? How do you keep everything away from you?" Asazo asked, half in awe and half in frustration.
James glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. "You're thinking about it all wrong. That kind of skill takes years of practice, years of controlling your own body. It's not something that comes easily. Don't even try to replicate it. You're still too young for that level of focus."
Asazo sighed, looking down at the cloth wrapped around his body, feeling its discomfort against his skin. It was a protective measure, but it didn't help much with the swarming insects. The jungle had a way of getting under your skin, literally and figuratively.
Meanwhile, Remus Pete led the team with practiced ease. His machete swung through the dense foliage, cutting through the vines and underbrush with smooth, fluid movements. His technique was nearly flawless, the result of years of training in James's unique Evolution Technique, a specialized training program designed to control and enhance mutant abilities. Unlike other methods that focused on brute strength, James's Evolution Technique allowed the practitioner to manipulate their body and abilities without the need for physical exertion.
Asazo watched, fascinated, as Remus continued to carve his path through the jungle. Remus was already nearing the third stage of the Evolution Technique, and James often spoke of his potential to become one of the most skilled warriors the family had ever seen. Asazo could only imagine what it would be like to reach that level of mastery, but for now, he was content to observe.
James pulled out a map, studying it closely as he assessed their position. He compared it to the location of Lake Valkana, the point where they would meet up with Remus and the others.
"Alright," James said, breaking the silence, "Remus, you're stationed here. Keep an eye out for any potential threats. If anyone tries to approach or attack, don't hesitate to eliminate them."
Remus nodded sharply, his focus unshaken. The armed team, though small—only about thirty men—was well-trained and deadly. The rest of the team, including the transport crew, remained on standby, ready for whatever mission James had in mind. They still didn't know what they were about to receive, but everyone knew to stay prepared.
James glanced east, calculating the distance with a practiced eye.
"Asazo, keep up." With that, he launched himself forward, dashing into the depths of the jungle with explosive speed. The air around him seemed to crackle as he broke the sound barrier in an instant, the force of his movement creating a shockwave that sent nearby leaves and branches flying.
Asazo, grinning with excitement, teleported to follow his father's lead, eager to keep up with the pace.
Meanwhile, in the heart of Wakanda, Natulu, a member of the border guard, was trying to stay awake as he leaned against a tree. The monotonous routine of patrols had long ago dulled his senses, and he found himself daydreaming about his next personal goal—earning the respect of Liya from the River Valley Tribe. Perhaps with a few well-placed scar tattoos, he could finally gain her attention.
Suddenly, a strange feeling washed over him. It was a sensation of movement in the air, as though something had zipped past him at incredible speed. He stood straight up, alarmed, glancing around but finding nothing. His eyes widened in realization. Could it have been His Majesty, the King? Had he been seen slacking off?
Before he could ponder further, James emerged from the jungle with his son right behind him. Asazo was covered in a cloud of black smoke, his teleportation ability making him appear as if he were constantly shifting, a blur of shadows and energy.
"I wanted to see how far we could go and what was around here," James explained, his gaze scanning the area.
Asazo rolled his eyes, the excitement never leaving his face. "Why bother walking when I could've teleported you here in an instant?"
James chuckled softly, but his attention shifted to the figures ahead. A group of patrolmen in indigo cloaks had stopped in their tracks upon seeing them, their eyes wide with disbelief. They whispered among themselves, their hands reaching for their weapons, preparing for confrontation.
Asazo tensed at the sight of the armed warriors, his instincts sharpening. He didn't know what language they were speaking, but their hostile gestures and loud roars were enough to tell him everything he needed to know.
The warriors danced and chanted around them, brandishing scimitars and spears, their anger palpable. Asazo's hand drifted to the pair of vicious daggers strapped to his waist, his eyes narrowing.
James, on the other hand, simply observed the scene with mild frustration. While he understood the need to be cautious, the guards' behavior seemed more like a display of overconfidence than an actual threat.
The tension in the air was palpable as more warriors began to surround them, including a group of cavalry riders and women with spears. In the distance, a shadowy figure moved with terrifying speed, leaping across streams and rocks with the grace of a predator. It was a warrior, moving like a panther, closing the distance between them with one swift, powerful leap.
With a resounding thud, the figure landed before James and Asazo, his eyes fixed intently on them. The silence that followed was thick with anticipation.
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