The drums of Ikenga had gone silent.
Smoke and ashes hung over the battlefield—a land once teeming with flora and fauna, boisterous with the chants of war and the clashing of iron.
The songs of maidens had fallen silent,
save for the occasional screeches of crows and vultures
as they feasted on the decaying corpses.
Prince Kosi limped through his home, now turned battlefield, his sword barely clinging to his tattered body, its blade slick with the blood of the hordes of corpses surrounding him. Around him lay the last of his kin—brothers, cousins, warriors born of fire and blood. The great Okoye clan, all gone. All betrayed.
Ikenga, the ancestral god, the Lord of the Strong, had promised them victory—had filled their dreams with the certainty of victory and their manly hearts with pride. And when the enemy came, the clan followed his call.
But the god did not answer.
And the prince did not forget.
"I will set fire to your temples" Kosi swore, eyes shining scarlet red. "I will tear down every altar, silence every hymn , I will end the era of the gods".
Above him, the clouds rumbled whether in warning or laughter, he didn't care
Let them hear him
Let them fear the monster, they have made