JIPANGU INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT – DEPARTURE LOUNGE – MORNING
The airport was packed. Families, businessmen, tourists in Hawaiian shirts. And in the middle of them, two silhouettes that stood out from the scenery.
Angel adjusted his sunglasses, a satisfied smile on his lips.
"I love the smell of airports. It smells like adventure, vacation, girls in shorts…"
Grann, beside him, didn't answer. He watched the travelers pass by, analyzing every face, every gesture.
"You could at least pretend to be happy," Angel sighed.
"Why?"
"Because we're going on an adventure, goddammit!"
"It's a mission. Not a vacation."
Angel rolled his eyes. "Always so boring."
They passed through security without issue. Angel smiled at the female customs officer. Grann didn't even look at her. On the plane, they settled into business class – Angel had insisted.
"Economy class is for poor people," he had said.
Grann had shrugged.
The plane took off. The city shrank beneath their eyes, then disappeared into the clouds.
Angel ordered champagne. Grann had water.
Silence settled in. Then Grann spoke.
"Why us?"
Angel turned his head toward him. "What do you mean?"
"Why is the Association sending us to Africa? There are other heroes. Stronger. More experienced."
Angel took a sip of champagne. "You want the simple answer or the complicated one?"
"The real one."
Angel set down his glass. His face, usually so light, grew more serious.
"Africa – the Union of Africia Kingdoms – has a different system than ours. They don't have an army of heroes like in Jipangu. They have the Big Five."
"Big Five?"
"Five heroes. The five symbols of the Union. Each one protects a region. Each one is a legend. And if one of them falls…"
He paused.
"…the whole Union falls."
Grann looked at him. "Why?"
"Because they built their system on those five pillars. No reinforcements. No replacements. Just them. So when The Justice, the Big Five's number 1, was poisoned…"
"They panicked."
"They called for help."
Grann nodded. "I understand. But why us? Why not the American or European heroes?"
Angel smiled, but it was a bitter smile. "Because the Association has its own plans."
Flashback.
---
ASSOCIATION HEADQUARTERS – COUNCIL CHAMBER – THREE DAYS EARLIER
The room was plunged into elegant darkness. A round table. Men in suits. Masks.
Lion, Rat, Crow, Eagle, Bull.
The holographic screen showed a map of the Union of Africia Kingdoms, with a red dot blinking over Libreville.
Rat slammed the table. "Right. Let's not lie to ourselves. This mission is bullshit."
Lion looked at him. "Explain."
"The Union needs help. We know that. But why send Angel? Why not Silver? Why not Captain Man?"
Crow spoke. His voice was calm, precise.
"Because this isn't a humanitarian mission. It's a show of force."
Silence in the room.
"The nations of the world are watching us," Crow continued. "The Union called for help. Everyone heard. If we Jipanguese succeed where others fail…"
"…we become the world leaders," Rat finished, a smirk on his face.
Lion nodded. "Exactly."
Bull crossed his massive arms. "And if Angel fails?"
Crow turned to him. "Angel won't fail. He has Grann with him."
"Grann? The kid who disqualified himself from the tournament?"
"The kid who understood sublimation," Crow corrected. "He's more useful than he seems."
Rat sneered. "And if Grann starts thinking he's a hero and gets himself killed?"
Crow didn't answer. He looked at the screen, then said:
"Then we'll send Captain Man."
The room fell silent.
---
INTERNATIONAL REACTIONS
A world map lit up on the screen.
UNITED STATES – THE PEAK HQ
The Peak, the United States' number 1, watched the Union's message scroll across his screen. His face was impassive, but his eyes gleamed.
"So the Jipanguese want to show what they're capable of?"
He stood up, approached the window. New York stretched out beneath him.
"They're so funny. They'd better not screw up."
His secretary, a hard-faced woman, wrote something in her notebook.
"Should I notify the White House?"
"No. Let them go ahead. If they fall, it'll be funny. If they succeed…" He turned to her. "…it'll be instructive."
---
AUSTRALIA – VORTEX'S PENTHOUSE
Vortex, Australia's number 1, was doing pull-ups on a bar fixed to the ceiling. His body streamed with sweat. His muscles bulged.
His secretary entered, a file in hand.
"Sir, the Union of Africia Kingdoms has called on Jipangu to handle the crisis."
Vortex didn't stop.
"So the Jipanguese want to handle it alone?"
"That's what the message says."
He dropped from the bar, took a towel, and wiped his face.
"Oh, okay. But I doubt the local heroes will just stand by with their arms crossed."
His secretary hesitated. "Should we send someone?"
"No. Let them figure it out. If they fail, it'll be a lesson. If they succeed…" He tossed the towel into a basket. "…it'll be a war."
---
FRANCE – MOUNTAIN SUMMIT
Super Baguette, France's number 1, held a croissant in his hand. Snow covered the mountain around him. Skiers, tourists, cameras.
He bit into the croissant, then, with an elegant gesture, twirled his hand.
"Allez, hop."
All the snow on the mountain flew away at once. A gust. A blast. Then nothing. The summit was bare, green, improbable.
The crowd applauded.
Super Baguette bowed, a modest smile on his lips.
A bodyguard approached.
"Sir, the Africia Union has called on Jipangu for help."
Super Baguette took another bite of croissant.
"I couldn't give a damn about their situation."
He looked at the cleared mountain.
"Let me have my fun, Sébastien."
Sébastien inclined his head. "Yes, boss."
---
MEXICO – PRIVATE TRAINING ROOM
El Primo, Mexico's number 1, was in the middle of a session. His fists struck a punching bag with incredible violence. The sound echoed throughout the room.
His trainer approached.
"El Primo, the Africia Union has called on Jipangu."
El Primo didn't stop. He struck again. Again. Again.
"Very well."
His voice was calm, but his eyes gleamed. He was too focused on his fight to say more.
The trainer stepped back.
---
BACK TO LIBREVILLE AIRPORT
The plane landed. Angel and Grann got out.
The air was warm, humid. Palm trees swayed in the breeze. Libreville stretched out before them, blending modern buildings with colorful markets.
Angel stretched. "Ah, Africa! It smells like sun, spices…"
He stopped.
A man was waiting for them on the tarmac.
He was immense. Two meters. Maybe more. His skin was black and shiny, crossed with ritual scars. He wore a simple red loincloth and beaded anklets. No armor. No visible weapons.
His eyes, piercing yellow, stared at Angel and Grann as if they were insects.
Mokonzi. Top 2 of the Union. The Congolese hero.
Angel swallowed. "Uh… hi."
Mokonzi didn't answer. He approached.
"I don't understand why the Union called on clowns like you."
His voice was deep, almost a growl.
"When I am right here. Don't they trust me?"
Grann stepped in front of Angel.
"We're not here to steal your place. We're here to help."
Mokonzi looked at him. A long look. Then he smiled. Not a warm smile. A predator's smile.
"Help? Fine. I'll check that myself."
He raised a hand.
"DOMINATION."
An immense pressure fell upon Angel and Grann. Their legs trembled. Their knees buckled.
Angel gritted his teeth. "What the…"
"All beings with an Ether gauge lower than mine within a twenty-meter radius…"
Mokonzi opened his arms wide.
"…KNEEL."
Around them, passengers, employees, guards – all collapsed at once, as if mowed down by an invisible wave.
Angel wavered. His knees nearly touched the ground.
But Grann held firm.
He didn't buckle. He didn't fall. He looked Mokonzi straight in the eyes.
Mokonzi blinked, surprised.
"You… you have willpower."
Grann didn't answer. He couldn't. Every word was a battle.
Mokonzi approached him, leaned down to his ear.
"I hope you're up to it, Jipanguese. Because if you fail…"
He stepped back.
"…it'll be me cleaning up your shit."
He turned on his heel and disappeared into the airport.
Angel collapsed, breathless.
"Fuck… what an asshole…"
Grann helped him up. His legs were still trembling, but he was standing.
"We're not here to make friends," he said calmly. "We're here to save The Justice."
Angel wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Yeah… except to save The Justice, we first have to survive his buddies."
Angel pulled a mirror from his pocket and looked at himself.
"Ahhh… Angel, you're so handsome even in a poor country."
He said before leaving.
They grabbed their luggage and exited the airport.
Outside, Libreville awaited them. Hot. Vibrant. Mysterious.
And somewhere, in a hospital room, a poisoned man fought for his life.
TO BE CONTINUED…