The crown is taken. E don land.
Civilians of Kal Mysters shrink to the shadows.
I make no apologies.
We breach the chamber doors—
the Bondye swirling wine in glass,
A double-bladed weapon at his side—
amethyst and burnished brass.
He watches then smiles like none should dare.
“Amadioha… You are bold to meet me here.
It’s by my clemency your people draw breath at all—
I am the Bondye. I decide who will rise and fall.”
"Decades drenched in death?" I shout
"Your soldiers tormented us -
You call THAT mercy with your foul smelling breath?"
He scoffs. "Niri Ezes did worse before we came.
You speak of righteousness — How many Niri have died beneath your name?"
"Vodun has fallen!" I scream. "The seat of power is ours to rule."
"The seat of power is not Kal Mysters. It is me.
And I have not fallen."
All hail Amadioha, the Son of the Thunder!
He no gree run, he no gree go under.
The Bondye's reign is done, we are taking the land,
He goes for the crown with a bloody hand!
From the ashes we rise, for Niri we stand,
The Thunder has landed on the Vodun sand!
Omoro fires blinding light—the Bondye twists around,
Then vanishes from seat—no trace or sound.
Wine goblet shatters — then he appears behind me so fast—
A blow across my spine drives me to the ground
Omoro's light again - flooding the room,
The Bondye seizes Damballa — shields himself from ruin.
The blast connects — Damballa's body takes it full—
He’s torn away — hurled against the wall.
He drops. The floor fractures spider wide,
The Bondye fades back to his seat— untouched, alive.
He lifts a hand—the shattered glass begins to rise —
The wine reforms within the air — He drinks and sighs.
“Encore?” he asks like none of this is strain.
“Shall we go again?”
All hail Amadioha, the Son of the Thunder!
He no gree run, he no gree go under.
The Bondye's reign is done, we are taking the land,
He goes for the crown with a bloody hand!
From the ashes we rise, for Niri we stand,
The Thunder has landed on the Vodun sand!
The Bondye palms the earth — impact splits the floor in waves—
A violent shockwave rips the room — we’re thrown across the space.
He stands beside the velvet seat—his weapon drawn to thrust—
“Enough of this nuisance.”
He moved like blur and flash
One swipe: Omoro's leg, severed at the knee.
Another: Damballa's arm, torn from body.
He meets me as my lightning floods his blade,
The metal screams but the current trapped and caged.
“Your ancestors await you now,” he murmurs through the strain,
The edge begins to press through skin—I feel it bite with pain—
Then Bondye's eyes turned black.
He screamed “No… this is—no…”
He vanished in the air. Where did he go? Nobody knows.
All hail Amadioha, the Son of the Thunder!
He no gree run, he no gree go under.
The Bondye's reign is done, we are taking the land,
He goes for the crown with a bloody hand!
From the ashes we rise, for Niri we stand,
The Thunder has landed on the Vodun sand!
I sat where the Bondye sat. Still warm from him.
Ijele kneeled -- "My King," was all she said.
The crown belongs to Niri. The cost belongs to the dead.
"Hail Amadioha!" the soldiers shouted out.
The Son of Thunder... he's cleared every doubt.
King of Vodun... Son of Thunder... E don land.
E don land.