Previously on Hakuna: It had been six months since Master Mokoto delivered his final lesson to the BBC—his profound way of acknowledging the boys as adults. Since then, each warrior had gone his own way to master his Talent. Now, we return to the most pressing matter facing the realm: the impending, blood-soaked war declared by the ruthless Lewotla Clan...
Fade In...
Act I: The Weight of the Avatar
...Six Months Ago...
The cool evening wind swept across the expansive roof of the Letebele Palace, rustling the banners that hung over the carved stone parapets. Stars flickered dimly through the light haze, casting long, sharp shadows across the quiet battlements.
Hakuna stood alone at the edge of the roof, his dark eyes looking out over the sprawling lands of the Letebele domain. The quiet around him was absolute, yet his mind was far from peaceful.
He tilted his head slightly, letting out a low breath as he muttered to himself, "Hmm, it's still odd that he chose me as his avatar..."
Deep within his consciousness, Psycha's voice resonated smoothly, breaking the silence with analytical clarity.
"Like I said," Psycha reminded him, "it is strict Taboo for Clan Leaders to actively participate in war and its direct battles. So, they choose their hands—the warrior who will, in a sense, wield their sword. And in this instance, your brother has chosen you to be exactly that."
Hakuna crossed his arms, his jaw tightening slightly. "Likely due to my performance in the war with the Tshabadira..."
Without warning, a deep, familiar voice interjected from right behind him:
"It's because he sees you as the protector of our clan..."
Hakuna startled, jumping forward so suddenly he nearly tripped over his own feet, almost tumbling off the ledge of the roof. He whirled around, catching his balance just in time to see his older brother, Max, standing there with a subtle, unreadable expression.
Hakuna caught his breath, glaring at his brother as he queried, "Is this pay back for last time?"
Max blinked, feigning complete and total oblivion. "I don't know what you're talking about..."
Hakuna rolled his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh before getting back to the issue at hand. "Anyway... why does he see me as that when I've explicitly denounced my royalty?"
Max stepped forward, his eyes softening as he looked down at his younger brother. "Royalty or not, you are still our brother. Him placing this monumental responsibility on you is absolute proof that he sees you as that as well..."
The young warrior stared at the roof tiles for a long moment. "Hmm..." he murmured softly.
Max tilted his head, watching Hakuna's guarded posture carefully. "Are you doubting yourself?"
Hakuna straightened his shoulders, his eyes hardening with quiet resolve. "No. I just may need to have a conversation with Sehloho..."
Act II: A Deal with the Leader
Down inside the central war room of the Letebele Palace, grand maps and historical ledgers covered the massive oak table.
Sehloho stood leaned over the parchment, a flickering oil lamp casting stark shadows across his regal face. He was meticulously sifting through a detailed list of potential regional allies affiliated with the Lewotla Clan, carefully calculating a strategic campaign to systematically discourage them from providing military or economic support to the Letebele's current enemy.
The heavy wooden doors creaked open. Hakuna walked into the room, his stride deliberate and a stern, unwavering determination plastered across his face.
Sehloho looked up from his papers, a calm nod greeting his visitor.
"Ahh, Younger Brother," Sehloho said, gesturing toward the maps spread before him. "These are the specific clans we should be 'paying a visit' to in the coming six months—which is the estimated timeframe it will take the Lewotla Clan to fully mobilize and gather their main forces..."
Hakuna raised a hand, interrupting smoothly. "Yeah, about that..."
Sehloho paused mid-sentence, murmuring a soft, inquisitive sound. "Hmm?"
He placed the diplomatic papers down on the polished wooden table and stood up straight, crossing his arms as he waited for Hakuna to speak.
Hakuna held his brother's gaze without flinching. "I'm not opposed to you placing me as your Avatar in the coming war... but I may need your help."
Sehloho stroked his jaw thoughtfully, pondering the request. "And what would that be?"
Hakuna stepped closer to the war table, his voice ringing out loud and clear in the quiet room.
"I want you to take the next six months training me," Hakuna declared firmly. "You want an Avatar, right? You will have to make me into one..."
Sehloho stared at him in silence for a few long seconds, a subtle, approving hum vibrating in his chest. "Hmm..."
Act III: The Art of Absolute Coercion
...Present Day...
Deep within the secluded territory of the Motaung Clan, the grand reception hall was thick with unspoken tension.
Max, the elder Letebele prince, sat comfortably in a carved wooden chair across from the ruler of the domain. Strangely, Max was not accompanied by his own standard guard detail; standing in absolute formation behind him was Hakuna's elite Royal Squadron, their weapons stowed but their eyes sharp, vigilant, and radiating cold military efficiency.
Sitting on the opposite side of the table was King Thuto, ruler of the Motaung. His posture was rigid, his fingers twitching slightly against his armrests as he studied his distinguished guest.
King Thuto was the first to break the heavy silence, his voice dripping with measured caution. "It's not every day you get an unannounced visit from the famed Letebele Clan..."
Max leaned back in his chair, resting his hands casually on his lap as he replied simply, "Consider it a courtesy..."
King Thuto narrowed his eyes, adjusting his heavy ceremonial collar. "Well... to what do I owe this... 'courtesy'...?"
Max leaned forward, the casual warmth vanishing from his expression as he cut straight to the absolute point.
"Don't ally yourself with the Lewotla."
King Thuto's brow furrowed in immediate annoyance. He looked past Max at the small group of squadron members standing in the hall, letting out a sharp scoff.
"Brave of you to be ordering me such," King Thuto retorted coldly, "with only a Royal Squadron at your back..."
Max didn't flinch. A faint, chilling smile touched the corners of his lips as he responded smoothly.
"Oh, don't be fooled. They may only be a Royal Squadron... but they can topple your entire territory with the mere snap of my finger."
To emphasize his words, Max slowly raised his right hand, positioning his thumb and middle finger together in the air as if he were preparing to snap them right then and there.
The sheer, nonchalant confidence in Max's posture struck an immediate chord of terror deep within the king's chest. King Thuto's eyes widened, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. He held up his hands, stammering instantly to defuse the immediate threat.
"Eh... perhaps... perhaps I can withdraw from this Clan War!"
Max lowered his hand casually, pulling a smooth scroll of thick parchment from inside his inner tunic and laying it flat upon the table.
"Wonderful," Max said pleasantly. "If you could just sign here, all will be well..."
King Thuto leaned forward, his eyes scanning the parchment. It was a comprehensive pact listing every major potential ally of the Lewotla Clan across the region. As the king's eyes tracked down the document, his heart sank into his stomach. Every single clan leader's name before him had already been signed in dark ink—formally pledging absolute neutrality and agreeing not to assist the Lewotla Clan in the upcoming war.
The only blank line remaining on the entire document was the single slot reserved for the Motaung King's signature.
King Thuto thought to himself frantically, his hands trembling as he stared at the signed names, "Ah! All of them... every single one of them has already withdrawn?!"
Visible fear painted itself across the king's features. Without wasting another second, he grabbed a quill from the inkwell, scribbled his official mark onto the empty line, and shoved the signed document back across the table to Max.
Max picked up the scroll, blow-drying the fresh ink with a gentle puff of air before neatly rolling it back up.
"It's been a wonderful conversation we're having," Max said, standing up smoothly from his chair. "As much as I would like to stay and chat, I do have a war to end..."
As Max turned to leave, curiosity finally overrode the king's overwhelming anxiety. King Thuto cleared his throat, looking at the disciplined soldiers falling into rank behind the elder prince.
"If I'm not mistaken," King Thuto asked cautiously, "the present Royal Squadron seems to belong to Prince Hakuna... however, I see him nowhere near your retinue..."
Max paused at the threshold, looking over his shoulder with a light, casual shrug.
"Hmm? Oh, he's here," Max responded casually. "You're just looking in the wrong direction..."
Max raised his index finger, pointing straight up toward the open sky above the palace courtyard.
King Thuto stood up from his chair, walking slowly to the grand arched window to look up.
High above the Motaung stronghold, hovering silently amidst the swirling clouds, was a dark, looming figure. The individual emitted no sound and held no weapon, but two crimson eyes burned through the high-altitude haze, glowing with a terrifying, ungodly light that cast a dark shadow over the entire kingdom below.
King Thuto took a sharp, involuntary step backward, his breath catching in his throat as absolute terror gripped his heart once more.
He murmured in a trembling, horrified whisper, "Dark looming figure... crimson glowing eyes... The rumors are true... Hakuna truly is The Monster..."
This is how his foes see him—not as a prince, not as a man, but as a tyrant, a living disaster, a beast one would rather face death itself than ever dare to be at odds with.
Fade Out...
End of Episode 85