Erik's eyes lingered on the man, the faint hum still echoing in his mind. He took a step closer, his voice calm but edged with quiet hunger. "Can you teach me?"
Advisor Ling did not answer at once. He observed the hidden rage inside Erik's eyes before his gaze drifted past him, as though studying something far beyond the boy, something only he could see.
The silence stretched until it felt heavy, almost ceremonial.
At last, he spoke, his words measured, carrying the rhythm of parable.
"A man once wished to drink the ocean." Ling said softly. "But in his thirst, he forgot—water cannot be held in clenched fists. To drink it, he must open his hands… and let go of all else he carried."
He turned his eyes back to the boy, sharp and searching. "The path of sorcery is no different. To walk it, one must let go. Magic demands not only time, but the whole of the spirit. It leaves little room for other fires."
Erik frowned slightly, not fully grasping the meaning. "So you won't teach me?"
Ling shook his head, his small beard swaying with the motion. His tone was gentle, yet final. "Not because you lack the talent, but because your vessel is already filled. Another river cannot flow where one already floods the banks."
The words hung in the air, mysterious and frustratingly vague, but Ling offered nothing more.
Inside, frustration curled in Erik's chest, though his face betrayed nothing.
Figures.. He thought coldly. Seems like he doesn't want to teach it to me..
He forced his jaw to unclench, keeping his expression neutral.
Doesn't matter.. His magic isn't the only kind out there anyway. What he does with talismans and chants… it's not even that interestin'. If I really wanna' study sorcery, I'll find the Masters of the Mystic Arts at Kamar-Taj one day.
Pushing the thought down, Erik straightened, bowing his head slightly. "I understand" He said calmly, though the words rang hollow in his mind.
Advisor Ling observed him quietly, his hands still folded within his sleeves. After a pause, his voice returned, calm and deliberate. "Is there aught else you seek, then? Some burden I may lighten?"
Erik shook his head faintly. "No. I was just walkin' through, seeing if there's a book that might catch my interest."
Ling inclined his chin, accepting the answer without pressing further.
Erik bowed once more, the gesture sharp and respectful. "Then, Advisor, I'll excuse myself."
Without another word, he turned around, his footsteps soft against the stone, leaving the man behind.
Erik wandered deeper into the library, the glow of lanterns flickering softly across the rows of shelves.
His fingers brushed against the spines of ancient tomes and scrolls as he walked, the air thick with the scent of ink, dust, and stone.
From his previous life memories, he didn't imagine The Ten Rings headquarters could house such an enormous library. He thought, eyes scanning the towering shelves.
A treasure trove of knowledge accumulated over centuries.
With Wenwu alive for a thousand years or more.. It was no surprise that such a vast collection of books had been gathered.
He paused at a corner where the shelves stretched high, his reflection faint in the polished brass fittings of the lanterns.
With no modern cell phones or even a developed internet. The days could easily drag on.. So he turned to training and reading as ways to pass the time.
Training until his muscles burned, then burying himself in books until the words blurred.
In the last months he had doved into the library's extensive collection of books. He found himself particularly drawn to subjects like chemistry, physics, and engineering.
For Erik, these weren't just distractions. They were weapons. Every book he finished was another blade in his arsenal, another tool to keep him ahead. To make him the best at everything he touched.
He then gathered a small stack of books from the shelves. Treatises on basic chemistry, notes on metallurgy and a text on mechanical engineering. The weight of them strained against his arms, but he carried them with ease as he made his way toward the far end of the library.
Advisor Ling sat behind a heavy wooden desk carved directly from the mountain stone, a low lantern burning at his side. His long sleeves draped neatly over the table as he unrolled a scroll and reached for a brush.
Erik placed the books down in front of him. The man glanced over the titles, his brow lifting ever so slightly. Without a word, he drew each volume toward him.
He opened them briefly, then pressed a red stamp against the inside covers, marking them as borrowed. He took up a sheet of paper, dipped his brush in ink, and wrote Killmonger name carefully beside the list of titles.
As the brush strokes dried, Ling spoke in that measured, priest-like cadence. "Strange.." He muttered "To see one so young taking interest in the sciences of fire and metal. Most boys of your age seek stories of heroes, or manuals of swordplay."
Erik met his gaze calmly. "Stories don't make me stronger." He said simply.
A faint smile touched Ling's lips, though his eyes remained unreadable. "Perhaps not. But every root feeds a different branch of the same tree. Do not neglect the soil while chasing the fruit."
Erik inclined his head slightly, taking the books back into his arms. "I'll keep that in mind."
The advisor nodded once, already lowering his eyes back to the parchment before him.
With nothing more to say, Erik turned and left the library. The sound of his footsteps echoed against the stone walls as he carried his chosen knowledge back toward his room.
The corridor was dim, lit only by the soft orange glow of lanterns fixed into the stone walls. Erik's steps were quiet as he carried the stack of books against his chest, his mind drifting back to The Advisor Ling.
Funny… He wasn't shown in the movies, or mentioned.. Erik narrowed his eyes, his thoughts spiraling.
But again, most of the story shown in Shang-Shi took place years later. After Xu Wenwu lost his wife and reformed the Ten Rings..
There was a gap of a few years between the end of the organisation and it's reformation. Maybe a lot of the people here, Ling included never came back after the change. Or simply died..
He adjusted the books in his arms, while pondering. Could've been part of that expedition to Ta-Lo too… The one where everyone but Wenwu got wiped out. That'd explain why he never showed up later.
The possibilities branched endlessly, but one thought rooted itself firmly in Erik's mind. The man was different than the others.
His presence wasn't dripping with arrogance, or lack of empathy like many of the organisation members. His words carried weight, yes, but also a patience, even kindness.
"He actually seems… decent." Erik admitted to himself. "Maybe he's genuine. Or maybe he just hides the game better than the others. With men like him, it's hard to tell." He exhaled through his nose, pushing the thought away for now.
He reached for the door of his room, only to find it already ajar. The sound of raised voices carried through the crack, heated and tense.
He pushed it open.
Inside, Feng stood rigid, squared off against three older boys. His jaw was tight, his usually calm demeanor cracking under the pressure. Across from him, the tallest of the three sneered, a glint of false triumph in his eyes.
"You think you can play dumb? That necklace was mine." The boy barked, jabbing a finger at Feng. "I know you took it."
Feng's voice cut back, sharp but steady. "We didn't steal anything. You planted it here to frame us."
The leader scoffed, his two friends smirking behind him. "That's what a thief would say. Hiding behind big words won't change what you are."
By Feng's side, Li stood casually, hands loose, that same carefree grin plastered on his face. But Erik knew him well enough. Behind the smile, he was coiled tight, ready to spring if things got physical.
Across the room, Midnight had quietly closed the book he'd been reading, placing it neatly on his bed. He didn't move, didn't speak, but his stillness carried weight.. The kind of calm that made it clear he was paying close attention.
Erik's eyes flicked over the three boys, recognizing them instantly.
Gao Lei's lackeys.. Fifteen years old, older, stronger but not smart enough to hide the strings being pulled.
The tallest one glanced over as Erik stepped inside. His lip curled. "Well, look who it is. Another thief. Guess the whole room's rotten."
Erik said nothing at first. He walked calmly to his bed, set the stack of books down, and straightened. His gaze moved from Feng's tense stance, to Li's grin, to Midnight's watchful silence, then back to the three intruders.
The accusations, the threat, the timing.. It wasn't hard to put two and two together. Gao Lei failed to pull us into his little circle for the last ten months. So now he's switched tactics.. Tryin' to undermine us, bully us, tarnish our reputation. It's pathetic..
He exhaled slowly, the sigh long and heavy, before turning his cold eyes on the leader of the three.
"Fuck out the room." Erik said, his voice low, flat, and sharp.
The words dropped into the silence like a blade, daring anyone to push further.
For a moment, silence hung thick in the room. The three teenagers blinked, stunned at Erik's cold dismissal. Then a vein bulged on the leader's forehead, his jaw tightening as a flash of anger broke through his arrogant mask.
"Tch… You've got a big mouth for a kid half my size." He snapped, his voice rising just enough to cover his hesitation.
One of his lackeys snorted, trying to recover the momentum. "He thinks he's scary. Acting tough just 'cause he trains too much."
The other chuckled darkly. "Let him bite. Dogs that bite usually get put down."
The leader smirked, though it was strained, his pride stung. "Yeah. Maybe it's time someone teach this little shit some respect."
He stepped forward slowly, boots thudding against the stone floor, closing the space between them. Towering over Erik, he looked down with a grin that was equal parts irritation and arrogance, his hand flexing like he already imagined how he'd knock the boy flat.
Erik tilted his head up, meeting the teenager stare with an expression that was more annoyance than anger. He had no patience left for this.
Without warning, he closed his fist and drove it into the older boy sternum. No momentum, no wind-up—just a short, sharp strike, a fraction of his enhanced strength behind it.
WHUMP!
The impact sent a dull crack through the room. The teenager's breath caught instantly, his mouth gaping as all the air in his lungs was torn away. He dropped to his knees in front of Erik, clutching his chest, a strangled sound spilling from his throat as he tried and failed to suck in a breath.
His two friends reacted at once, lunging forward—but Feng, Li, and Midnight were faster.
Feng moved with cold precision, blocking a wild swing with his forearm and driving his elbow into one of the older boy's ribs, following it with a sharp palm strike that snapped his head back. His movements were efficient, controlled—exactly as he'd been taught.
Li, by contrast, fought with reckless joy. He ducked a punch, grinning as he slammed his shoulder into the second taller boy's gut and then hammered his fist into the side of his face.
"Hah! Now this is fun!" He shouted, laughing as if it were a game.
Midnight was silent, but his presence was like a shadow exploding into motion. He slipped behind one of them, hooking his leg and dragging him off balance before driving his fist into the back of his head.
The masked boy's style was eerie—precise, quick, and merciless, no wasted motion.
In the center of the chaos, Erik's eyes looked down, his hand gripping the chin of the boy wheezing on his knees. He tilted the teenager's face upward, forcing their eyes to meet.
"Half your size, huh?" Erik muttered, his voice cold.
Then he drew back his palm and slammed it across the boy's jaw.
SLAP! CRACK!
The sound was brutal, teeth shattering as the boy's head snapped to the side. He crumpled instantly, collapsing into unconsciousness at Erik's feet.
The fight raged inside the cramped room, fists cracking against flesh, boots thudding against the stone floor. The two lackeys weren't pushovers. They were older, stronger, with more reach. Feng took a sharp punch to the cheek, his head snapping to the side, but he absorbed it with clenched teeth, countering with a knee to the gut.
Even Li caught a jab to the ribs that left him wheezing for a moment, only to laugh it off, swinging wildly and clipping his opponent across the jaw hard enough to make him stumble.
But the three of them fought as one, their rhythm natural, each backing the other up, driving the two older boys toward the walls.
At the center of it all, Erik straightened, staring down at the unconscious body at his feet.
Without a word, he bent and caught the boy's ankle, lifting it. His limp form dragged across the floor, his head bumping dully against the ground as Erik hauled him to the door.
The two lackeys froze mid-swing as Erik swung the door open and tossed their leader's body into the hall.
THUD
The sight of their unconscious friend sprawled on the ground, teeth scattered like pebbles, drained the fight out of them instantly.
They glanced at each other, wide-eyed, fear cracking through their bravado. Then, without hesitation, they rushed past Feng, Li and midnight scrambling to lift their leader by the arms.
"This is not finished !" One of them yelled struggling under his friend weight. They fled down the corridor, their footsteps pounding frantically against the stone until they vanished from sight.
Silence lingered in the room, broken only by Li's panting chuckle.