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It is the year of our Lord of nineteen twenty-four. Germany is amid the Thirty Years War, practically still in the delicate international scenario. All of the nation's youth is fighting in this war between brothers. Well, not all of it. A young man by the name of Friedrich is exploring the wilderness as he always dreamed to. At this very moment he is in an African jungle, out to to do for his land what Cortez did for his, when he hears the yell in his native German:

_ Zemo!
_ What, M'Bobo? -- he says turning back to face his crew's leader and only German-speaker of the bunch.
_ The men and I refuse to go any further than this. The mountain ahead is full of evil spirits.
_ Do not be fools. Come on!
_ No.
_ I will not tolerate this, M'Bobo.
_ Neither will us. This is the land where those who enter do not come.
_ I... you... never mind, just give me back some of the stuff and return to my base. I will proceed by myself.

He gathers some food and a little arsenal so he can hunt his own food and defend himself in the jungle and open his own paths to the legendary land of "savages" (Africans not under European domain were as such referred to) and dispatches the rebellious crew.

_ They are probably going to still everything, but that is of no importance. After I get rich here, I will be able to buy everything back 200 times.

Friedrich Zemo, a man of action an adventure, a hunter like the wolves he hunted, is out to conquer. He thought he could use his crew as a small paramilitary army to help his conquest, but now he will have to resort to is brains.

_ Savages!

Friedrich has finally reached what he wanted to: natives, soon to be turned into his servants, hirelings, slaves or whatever he decides to make of them. He decides to resort to technique #699 in the Conqueror's Manual. After a huge "BANG!" is heard in the middle of the crowd and all stop. Every single man woman and children, be it the robust warrior practicing his spear-throwing or the elderly woman taking care of her grandchildren, they all stop.

_ You are now all under my command from now on. All those who oppose me shall meet their doom on the thunder-spiller -- and then thinking to himself -- they probably did not understand, but will probably think I am some sort of God speaking a strange language.

All stand still. A tall man dressed in a black leather armor whispers something to an elder man by his left, who yells something out loud to the villagers. And then he laughs. Slowly, one by one, each of the natives start laughing until it escalates into a full-blown mockery of the would-be conqueror. Children point their fingers, women talk amongst themselves and warriors start to surround them. They all stop at the leather-clad man's command, who says:

_ Who are you, imbecile?

Surprised to hear English, a language he didn't think he would be hearing again after his stay in Britain, cut short by a... mishap... in the Tower of London. As some women start to take away his possessions, he in English again answers:

_ I am Friedrich Von Zemo. How come you understand what I speak?
_ I do the questioning here, Zemo. It is none of your concern how we came to know your language.
_ So, err... I guess you civilized man will let me go.
_ Ha! Good joker, isn't he? -- says the king -- Maybe I'll let you live and you will be my clown. T'Chaba's court does need a one.
_ I...

He escapes. Not before receiving a slash in the face from an arrow. It does not cut too deep, but the scar is there and there it will stay. Zemo starts to run rapidly in the direction of the jungle back to where he came from. He doesn't hear when king T'Chaba says:

_ Let him go. If he is not eaten by a panther, a lion or a hyena, the poison in the arrow will finish him off.

Friedrich runs through the paths he finds and finally falls, his forehead burning. He utters "Virginia" and finally passes out. Fallen, poisoned, abandoned, with no weapons or food, he is everything he didn't want to be. And just to make it worse, twelve black men holding arches surround him, silently.

Three days after the unfortunate encounter with the tribe and its following disaster, Friedrich wakes up in a tent. He looks around and tries to remember what happened. He is a strange to the tent he is in, and to the lady that is watching him.

_ Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here?

The woman gets up after mumbling something he does not understand and leaves the tent. He tries to pursue her, but he is all too weak to even walk. Sitting now, on the same bed he woke up, he waits the death he is certain will come.

_ What is your name? -- says a man entering the room.
_ I am Friedrich Von Zemo. How did I get here? Who are you?
_ One at a time. We brought you here and healed you of the poison. And "who are we" is a funny question. Don't you recognize us, slave-trader?
_ I do not trade slaves.
_ And why were you there?
_ I was merely trying to... I was going to...
_ Liar! You will be a good hostage.
_ No! I really am not a slave-trader. I can help you against them if you wish. But you have to tell me on thing --
_ How could you possibly help us?
_ I have things stored in a city 30 miles west of the village I was shot.
_ What things? -- his curiosity sharpened.
_ Weapons. Pistols, rifles, and plenty of ammo.
_ We have many of these things. A band heading for the sunset was carrying it and we took it. Soon, we'll have mastered it.
_ M'Bobo...
_ Excuse me?
_ I can teach you, all of you.
_ I still do not trust you, but we believe in giving a man a chance to prove himself.

The stranger claps his hand to call for assistants and orders them something in their language, not in the English they were speaking. One of the men grabs Zemo and takes him outside the tent. There he finds himself in an open area, surrounded by tents not unlike his and a huge jungle behind it. But more then that, the first thing he noticed was the mountain on the background, a fascinating not because of its size but because of its shape and color.

The stranger again calls him and tells him briefly: take this gun and shoot at the target. The target was 50 meters away, but Zemo has known how to handle a firearm since he was fifteen and the ten years that passed since were not empty of practice. His impressive result is enough to make his intentions good with the stranger. The following days Friedrich teaches his saviors how to better use those weapons. He starts to speak with their leader and becomes acquainted with their history.

Nineteen years ago an Englishman named Braddock found the tribe that almost killed him. The wakandans, he learned their name soon. He offered them much for their prisoners and fascinated the young king T'Chaba. He and T'Chaba spent time together every time he came for new prisoners and soon they taught each other how to speak on their respective languages. But more than that, T'Chaba learned from Rupert Braddock the ways of the "civilization" that fascinated him so much. T'Chaba's advisors were wary of Braddock, but the foreigner's influence was all too strong on the king.

T'Chaba ordered the deaths of all his rebellious advisors fifteen years after the first meeting with Braddock. The wearer of the Panther's garb could not believe he was as malevolent as he was told. The execution was set to happen when Rupert and his men came again, but days before the prisoners escaped and took malcontent warriors with them. Not without losses, of course. Among the dead were two of the three weaponsmiths they were taking and even T'Chaba's wife, the leader of those who thought Rupert Braddock should be captured instead of given banquets to.

Zemo in turn tells him of his travels to France, England and Spain, where he met a woman, daughter of a couple of "new Christians", as they are called. He ran away with her from Madrid to Paris after her parents were burned accused of still keeping their Jewish faith. She is in his homeland now, in his estate, waiting for him to come back. Friedrich thinks about her and hopes for the day when they'll meet again. But Virginia is not the matter at hand here, Wakanda's fate is.

After those four years they had established a strong community. T'Chaba had strong soldiers, it was true, but almost all of his strategists, medicine men and field commanders had defected, leaving T'Chaba to govern alone Wakanda. Finally, with a new arsenal and great know-how on its use they were ready to take down the Black Panther who preyed upon its people instead of protect it.

_ We will take Wakanda back from T'Chaba! So swears I, T'Chaca, son of T'Chaba!
_ Your what?! -- is Zemo's only reaction.

Soon, a family feud will happen again like that in Zemo's homeland. But this time, he won't be able to run away.

He cannot believe he is dressed as he is.

Two months ago he was an arrogant European conqueror, set to "civilize" the "savages" of Africa. Now he is dressed just as one of the same "savages" he has found out are people like he is, ready to battle for the same things he is. The weapons they bear are those he brought to bring servitude to free men. Now they serve to restore freedom to an entire nation. If only Virginia could see him now.

_ The west side of the village is where one usually enters the village, but it is all too well guarded. It would be best if we --
_ No, T'Chaca. When I was there the west side was not protected. The forces were all concentrated in keeping safe the Southern border.
_ Maybe they are worried about the beasts coming from the South. Still, we should wait... there he is. Come here, Taki. Tell me what you saw.

A young man with a knife comes to T'Chaca and confirms what Zemo has told him. The scout tells them the Western border is nearly open. Elders and children are on the central area and the others are all working or standing guard, but they are not ready for an attack. After all, why would they?

_ Indeed.

And so the troops starts to march to the village. Zemo notices T'Chaca's sword is made of a different material than any other blade he saw. It is black and he never uses it for anything, while the other constantly cut down branches in their way.

_ Is this thing the reason you declined to take any firearms?
_ You mean the Mountain Sword? Yes. It is made from the sacred mountain you see in the horizon. I stole it when we escaped.
_ I've never seen or heard of anything quite like it. Can I have some of this material to take home?
_ Of course. But I still rather you didn't go.
_ T'Chaca -- he puts his hand on his friend's shoulder -- I've told you why I have to go home. Do not make me repeat it.
_ But we can bring her here.
_ I know, but I must stop running away from home. My country will soon enter the war ripping through the land and our enemies are taking advantage of it. I must go there and --
_ You are but one man, Zemo.
_ I will make a difference.

When they stip talking they reach the village. The confrontation is swift, but not less bloody than it would have been if it was longer. The invading army comes out victorious, but the medicine men will have much work restoring health and graves will be dug for days. Finally, Zemo runs looking for his friend to warn him it is over when he sees it.

Father and son are battling with identical swords. T'Chaba made a new one and sparks were flying as they fenced. T'Chaca had a cut in his left leg and T'Chaba in his right arm, but they were still fighting. The warriors were all standing and watching the confrontation, waiting for the victory of the greatest warrior, the one which would truly lead them.

_ Nonsense.

BANG! Zemo shoots and T'Chaba falls on the ground, drowning on his own blood. T'Chaca looks at it, mumbles "Father", and falls on the ground.

He is exhausted.

The following week is given the Black Panther's garb. He dresses it and swears he'll honor it unlike his father did. When Braddock enters the village expecting to find T'Chaba he is greeted with twenty arrowheads pointing threateningly to his head. Wakanda will never again supply slaves for him, and neither will he do it using any other nation ever again.

After the feast and a good night of sleep, Zemo starts to teach the Wakandans all he remembered of the technological advances he knew. Powder, the wheel, mathematical basics and other little things will assure the Wakandans development. He taught them, and more importantly, he taught himself, what truly is to progress in life. Like T'Chaca and his men healed his body and soul to health, he helped to heal their shattered society. They will be able to do it by themselves and, who knows?, become a great nation in its own right, without any trace of European savagery.

A year later...

_ For your valuable deeds on the battlefield, your scientific knowledge and your strong advises -- "not to mention financial contributions to your cause", thinks Friedrich -- I grant thee the title of Baron. You may now, Baron Zemo.
_ Thank you, your Majesty.
_ Interesting element is this one you found, herr Zemo. What do you call it?
_ Wakandium.
_ I don't like this name. I will give it another name. Let's see... you say this makes metal shake when they come in contact. Is that so?
_ Yes, your Majesty.
_ Then I will name it Vibranium after its vibes.
_ Yes, your Majesty -- and then mumbling to himself, the first Baron Zemo says -- where are you, T'Chaca?