The next morning, Xu Wenwu walked the corridors of the compound, his footsteps measured. The silence of dawn broken only by the faint hiss of torches burning low in their brackets.
As he entered the courtyard, his eyes fell upon Erik.
The boy stood there fully clothed, his posture perfectly still, eyes closed in a meditative state.
His back was straight, shoulders square, arms resting lightly at his sides. Eyes closed, his breathing moved in perfect rhythm—slow, deep, unbroken.
Xu Wenwu eyes flashed with a brief, almost imperceptible hint of surprise quickly followed by a glimmer of pride. "Very good, Killmonger... Very good." He said, his voice low and approving.
Erik slowly opened his eyes, meeting the man's gaze without uttering a word.
The boy expression was calm, but his thoughts were far from it.
That night, was the worst night of all my fucking lives ! He thought, the memory of the agony still fresh in his mind.
The pain had been unlike anything he had ever experienced. A torment so intense he had feared it might drive him mad.
Each hour had stretched into an eternity, and he hadn't even slept a single moment. As he meditated through the night, Erik had felt his chi in disarray.
A chaotic mess that mirrored the havoc wreaked on his body by the Dim-Mak technique.
That technique.. Erik mused.
It completely disrupted my chi and my insides..
Until now, he had leaned on his enhanced physiology, but even this body wasn't perfect. He could shrug off staggering amounts of blunt trauma, take hits that would shatter an ordinary man.
But bullets still pierced, blades still cut, and energy-based strikes like pressure-point attacks slipped through his defenses.
I could've dodged it.. He thought bitterly, his jaw tightening. But how would I have explained that to Xu Wenwu?
The man wasn't trying to kill him, he knew that much. And so he had taken the blow, swallowed the chaos tearing through his insides.
What a shitty decision.
His breath steadied, his thoughts sharper. I have to make this body stronger..
There was a way—something buried in the jumble of memories he carried from another life. He wasn't sure if the events belonged to this universe or another, but the thought lingered like a spark.
His mind drifted to the image of a black man in Harlem, skin unbreakable, immune to bullets, cuts, explosions. But that's still down the road, Erik reminded himself.
"How is your body?" Xu Wenwu asked, his voice laced with genuine curiosity.
Erik's brow twitched, the insult he wanted to spit burning at the edge of his tongue—He could have cursed the man's bloodline back six generations. But instead, he drew a long, controlled breath, forcing his jaw to unclench.
His rapid healing was thanks to his regenerative abilities, but he couldn't reveal that.
"Good" He said evenly, his voice calm, giving nothing away.
Xu Wenwu, however was deeply impressed. This boy never ceases to amaze me.. He quickly thought with a rare smirk.
He replayed the memories in his mind.. Watching Erik, just nine years old take down several young men in the labor camp. Breaking their bones with brutal efficiency.
Then, there was the time the boy had climbed the mountain in the dead of winter. And most recently, how he had bested Gao Lei his senior.
Every time he faced an insurmountable obstacle.. He strangely found a way to overcome it.
It was as if he deliberately hid the true measure of his strength, revealing only fragments of it when pressed against the wall.
No, there was no doubt in Xu Wenwu's mind that the boy was hiding something.
The way he moved at times, the sharpness of his reflexes. It was beyond what any normal child could achieve, no matter how talented.
He might have tried to cover it up, to blend in with the others. But Wenwu was able see through the facade.
He had seen too much, lived too long, to be fooled like the others. But what was he hiding? He pondered, his eyes half-lidded with boredom as he studied the boy.
Xu Wenwu had been born in an age when mankind still accepted a simple truth : They were not alone in this universe. Some distant worlds men believed to be home to their gods. While others, were whispered of only in fear.
He came into the world in 968 A.D. three years after Earth had been invaded by the Frost Giants. To most, those beings had already slipped into myth, their battles with the Norse gods retold as half-forgotten legends, diluted into folklore. But Wenwu remembered.
He had seen enough to know the truth that others tried to bury beneath legends and myths.
He was no stranger to the concept of superhuman individuals neither.
Over the centuries, he had encountered countless people with extraordinary abilities. Supposed gods, sorcerers, warriors whose bodies bent the limits of nature. Men and women touched by powers that set them apart from the ordinary.
He had also long been aware of projects like Rebirth or the Winter Soldier Program. These things didn't surprise him anymore.
He knew the boy's achievements hinted at something beyond mere talent or discipline. But in honesty, he didn't really care.
He didn't mind that Erik had hidden the truth to him. In fact, a small smile appeared on his bored face as he reflected on it.
"Pretend inferiority" He mused, recalling the teachings from The Art of War he had passed on to the boy.
"Appear weak when you are strong." or "All warfare is based on deception."
These were some of the principles he valued most. The strategies that had kept him alive and powerful for over a thousand years.
The boy was merely applying these principles.. And honestly, that impressed Xu Wenwu more than his hidden abilities ever could.
"Well done" He said, his voice calm. He gave Erik a final glance. A hint of approval in his eyes, before turning around. "Go take a shower !" He added, his tone now dismissive as he exited the courtyard without another word or look back at the boy.
Erik watched him leave, feeling a mix of relief and lingering tension.
He had survived the night, passed the test.
As he stood up, his body back at hundred pourcent, he made his way to the showers his mind already preparing for whatever would come next.
- One Week Later -
Erik stepped out of his quarters, the faint echo of his boots carrying down the stone corridor as he made his way toward Xu Wenwu's office. The facility was quiet at this hour, the silence broken only by the occasional clang of steel from the training halls below.
He had only just returned from a mission, one carried out alongside Feng and a handful of seasoned operatives. The job had been simple enough: eliminate a target whose death would tip the balance of power in a nearby province. The blade had found its mark, the mission deemed a success.
But things had not gone as cleanly as planned.
Erik's jaw tightened slightly as the memory surfaced—the door opening, the startled faces of the target's family, the wife and two children who were never supposed to be there. Feng had moved quickly, his weapon ready to finish the loose ends. Erik's hand had stopped him cold. The look Feng gave him in that moment was pure frustration, but he hadn't flinched.
They all knew his line by now. Even Xu Wenwu.
Erik never pretended otherwise. He would kill soldiers, criminals, men who built their power on blood and suffering—but he would not slaughter innocents. He could not. That boundary was carved deeper into him than any scar on his skin.
And though Wenwu seemed to tolerated it, Erik knew such defiance was always a risk.
Still, as he approached the heavy wooden doors of the warlord's office, he felt no regret.
Before he could raise his hand to knock, the massive doors stirred on their own. The wood groaned softly as they swung inward. Advisor Ling's magic, had answered before Erik could.
The boy paused only a second, his eyes narrowing at the invisible hand that had moved the door, then stepped forward into the office.
"Killmonger, You requested to see me?" Xu Wenwu's voice was calm, almost measured, as he sat behind his desk. Chancellor Hui stood at his right, Advisor Ling at his left, both silent and watchful.
On the polished surface of the desk rested a simple plateau with two cups of steaming tea.
With a slight gesture of his hand, Xu Wenwu motioned Erik forward. The boy stepped closer, lifted one of the cups, and took a slow sip before setting it back down. His gaze lingered on the steam curling upward.
"I've been thinking about your words Sir. The ones after my fight with Gao Lei." Erik said contemplatively. "Could you teach me ? I want to learn how to control my mind. I'm.." He narrowed his eyes at the tea, as if searching for answers in its ripples.
Xu Wenwu lifted his own cup, drinking with unhurried calm before setting it neatly back in place. His voice followed, steady and deliberate.
"Your body is a weapon, but your mind is not. It is filled with knowledge—but also with anger, fear, and compassion. You see those as cracks in the armor you've been building. You don't simply want strength of the body—you want to become more. A master of your own emotions. Because.. The fearful cannot inspire fear."
He let the words sink in, his tone even, but his eyes glinting with a rare expectation. "I can teach you. I can make you the coldest man in the world, a perfect weapon. But the question is… Can you do it without losing yourself, Killmonger?"
Erik met his gaze. He didn't know the answer—not truly. Yet when the silence pressed down on him, he said the only word he could.
"Yes."
After receiving his instructions, he bowed before turning on his heel and leaving the office. Three pairs of eyes followed the boy's back as he disappeared.
The heavy doors shut behind him with a muted thud, and for a moment, silence lingered.
Chancellor Hui was the first to break the quiet. His tone was cold, clipped, like steel.
"Are we not going to punish him for the mission? He let three witnesses live. What use is a soldier with compassion? He may be talented, but his moral code is a problem Sir." His gaze shifted to his master.
"Nnh…" Xu Wenwu uttered softly, his eyes narrowing toward the doors where Erik had passed. "It is not the soldier's fault if he seems useless. It simply means you are not using him correctly." His fingers tapped the armrest of his chair, his expression unreadable. "You can make use of anyone… with the right approach."
"Of course, sir" Chancellor Hui said, bowing his head slightly in respect.
Advisor Ling, who had watched the exchange in silence, finally inclined his head as well. His tone was calm, reflective. "He is indeed talented. It would be wasteful to antagonize him. Better to use him according to his nature. After all…" He allowed himself a small pause, then finished with quiet certainty. "Not every knife is meant for the same purpose."
Wenwu's lips curved into the faintest shadow of a smile.
- One Week Later - Training room -
"Good" Xu Wenwu said, his voice low but firm, eyes fixed on the boy before him.
Erik sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor, bare-chested, his breathing steady and controlled. Sweat traced lines down his skin, his chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm.
"You've mastered this breathing." Wenwu continued, pacing slowly across the chamber. His words carried neither praise nor warmth—only acknowledgment. "Now, I will show you the training you must perform by yourself for the coming months."
He turned toward the wall, where an array of weapons gleamed faintly in the torchlight. From them, he reached for a small, narrow-bladed knife. Its polished edge caught the light as he held it loosely in his hand, turning back toward the boy.
The silence that followed was heavy, as though the very air was waiting to see what would come next.
Xu Wenwu's blade flashed inflicting a cut, precise, almost clinical. Blood darkened the floor. Erik's face instantly tightened "Ugh!" He uttered, eyes close in concentration.
The master wiped the blade clean on a cloth, his movements calm and deliberate—more lecturer than executioner.
"Your body screams because your brain permits it." He said, voice steady and precise. "Pain is the signal — a message carried to the brain, then painted with fear and urgency." He tapped the flat of the knife against Erik's temple. "Here. That is where suffering is born."
He walked a slow circle around the boy, eyes never leaving the slight tensions that flickered across Erik's skin. "Through breath, you slow the heart. A slower heart tells the body there is no danger. Through focus, you strip the signal of meaning. The cut is only pressure, heat, vibration. Remove the fear, and the signal weakens. Remove the meaning, and it dies."
Wenwu drew the blade again across the boy's forearm in a shallow slice. Erik inhaled—sharp, then smoothed his breath and held it steady. The man watched every micro-twitch as if reading a map.
"The more you repeat this." He continued, "The more your nervous system adapts. Endorphins, serotonin, norepinephrine — your body begins to flood itself with its own medicine. A chemical shield born of will. In time you will summon this calm not after the wound, but before it even arrives."
He sheathed the knife with a soft, final sound. His tone hardened, iron underneath the lesson. "This is not mysticism, Killmonger.. It's real. You are teaching your brain to rewrite its own laws. Do this until pain is no more than a suggestion, and you will obtain what you seek."
Erik's lashes lifted, and his dark eyes snapped open. The faint tremor in his breath was gone, replaced by a steady rhythm, iron-clad and deliberate.
"Yes, sir." He said, voice low but firm.
There was no hesitation, no fear—only determination carved deep into every syllable.
Xu Wenwu studied him for a long moment, expression unreadable. Then, with the barest nod, he turned away, as if satisfied that the boy understood.