Chapter Four:
The Sun Mask
From the street level, it was just an ordinary office building. An unmasked receptionist sat in the lobby, welcoming any visitors who happened to step inside, a number of Black Cross-controlled companies hosting their headquarters there. Deep inside the building, however, behind secret doors and high security passageways, legions of masked soldiers trained night and day under the strict command of one of the most feared and respected Masks in the fuhrer’s army: The Sun Mask.
On the building’s very top floor, hundreds of soldiers filled a large gym, surrounded by the Sun Mask’s top five soldiers, watching as they practiced their daily drills. Even above them, the Sun Mask stood alone in a small observation room just for him, designed so that he could turn one way to watch them train, and turn around to look out over the city at the same time. The ceiling was entirely made of glass, the bright sun shining down upon him.
The Sun Mask watched his troops below him with eyes like a hawk. The window through which he watched them had been blacked-out from their perspective, so he could watch them unobserved, like clouds covering the sun during a storm.
As they trained, a soldier in the very middle of the group stumbled. The Sun Mask scowled, his eyes narrowing. He pressed a button on the table nearby.
“Soldier 9425,” he said.
One of his top five, a man in a rainbow-colored mask stepped forward and pounded his chest. “Yes, sir,” he said. The Rainbow Mask turned and marched toward the soldier that had slipped up. The Sun Mask turned away, unconcerned.
He looked at his face in the small mirror he kept there. A weak, imperfect human face, the face of the life he had abandoned the day he joined the Black Cross. His mask sat on the table beside him, patterned after the ancient ceremonial masks of his ancestors and designed to look like the sun itself. A slight crack had formed in one corner, and he had spent the morning repairing it. He could brook no imperfection in his appearance.
A knock sounded at the door. “Just a minute,” he said. He checked over the repaired crack one more time, ensuring his mask was in pristine condition once again. He slipped it back over his head once again and secured it.
“Send them in,” he said.
The door buzzed open and the soldier that had stumbled was shoved forcefully into the room, tumbling to the floor. They trembled, kneeling before him. “Please forgive me, Sun Mask,” the soldier said.
Sun Mask stood over the soldier, positioning himself so that the sun would be right behind his head if the soldier looked up. “Soldier 9425, is it?” he asked.
The soldier shook and nodded.
“Do you know the meaning behind this mask I wear, 9425?” he asked.
The soldier glanced up, covering their face with their hands just as the Sun Mask had wanted them to. “I don’t know, sir.”
The Sun Mask leaned down closer, so the soldier could take in all the fine details. “It represents Mawu, goddess of the sun and creator of all life. Do you know her story?”
The soldier cautiously shook their head.
“No?” the Sun Mask said. “Well, let me tell it to you then.”
He stood and gestured to the sun above. “Mawu was the goddess of the sun. She ruled over all the world with her husband Lisa, for all life had been created by her. Then, one day, a foolish mortal, the monkey Awe, got it into his head that he could do better than her, that he could be a better ruler and creator than she.
“So, he decided to challenge her, to prove he could be the better god. He climbed up to heaven and challenged her to a creation battle. Mawu, being the benevolent ruler that she is, accepted his challenge. Now, Awe’s creations were impressive to be sure, but only Mawu’s creations came to life. Awe’s creations remained mere dolls. Do you know why Awe failed, Soldier 9425?”
The soldier shook their head. “I don’t know, sir.”
“He believed himself more than he truly was,” he said. “He believed himself a god, when he was nothing more than a pretender. He didn’t understand that only Mawu could give the breath of life, and that she could take it away just as easily. As punishment for his hubris, she fed him the seed of death, and he died, like the weak fragile mortal he was.”
The Sun Mask grabbed the top of the soldier’s mask, pulling it up until it was almost over their chin, revealing the skin of their neck. “Do you know why we wear these masks, 9425?” he asked. “When we put on these masks, we raised ourselves above the imperfect human masses down there in the world below. We made ourselves as one with the gods. So, tell me, 9425, that incident that occurred down there, was that the actions of a god, or simply a mere pretender, like Awe?”
The soldier trembled, trying desperately to not let the mask slip up over their chin and reveal their face, but not daring to raise their hand to pull it back down. “A pretender, sir,” they answered.
He let go of their mask. “Give me your hand.”
Shaking, the soldier held out their right hand and the Sun Mask took it. He found the glove’s seam, peeling it off to reveal the soldier’s bare human hand. The soldier tried to pull away but the Sun Mask held tight. He looked over the hand. Light-skinned, so possibly white, or maybe East Asian. One of the lighter ends of the spectrum. That was all the information about the soldier’s human identity the Sun Mask wished to know for now.
“Without our masks, we are nothing,” the Sun Mask said, looking the soldier in the eye. “Stripped of our godhood and reduced to the mere mortals we once were. Do you want that?”
The soldier shook their head.
“I thought not. I will not remove your mask today, 9425, but I will leave you a reminder of the importance of casting away our human imperfections.”
He reached out and picked up the large staff leaning against the table. The top was shaped like a fiery sun with a bright red gem in the center. 9425 pulled back desperately, but the Sun Mask held on tightly. He held his staff over the soldier’s hand, lining it up with the sun. He pressed a secret switch and the staff shot a blast of intense fire from its gem, burning the skin right off the hand in a matter of seconds. The soldier screamed and pulled desperately, but the Sun Mask refused to let go.
He let it keep burning for a few more seconds before someone knocked at the door. He shut off his staff and let the soldier go. The soldier crumpled to the floor, cradling their ruined hand against their chest. “Enter,” the Sun Mask said.
The door opened and another soldier stepped inside, bowing immediately. “Sorry to disturb you, sir,” he said.
The Sun Mask stood, positioning himself once again to line up with the sun. “You should not be disturbing me without invitation,” he said, holding his staff up in a warning gesture. “I assume you have a good reason.”
“I do,” the soldier said, keeping his head low. “We’ve received a message, sir. From Corinth. The fuhrer is on his way here. He’s in his airship now. They said he’ll be here within a few hours.”
The Sun Mask’s eyes widened. “The fuhrer?” he asked. “Here? Are you certain?”
The soldier looked up, squinting in the sun’s glare. The Sun Mask smiled slightly behind his mask. “Yes, sir,” the soldier said. “He said he had urgent business. He asked to speak with you by name specifically when he arrived.”
The room was silent as the Sun Mask considered his words, except for the hushed moans and sobs coming from the injured soldier on the floor.
“Did they give any further reason for the fuhrer’s arrival?” the Sun Mask asked.
“No, sir. They said it was classified, level nine. They said the fuhrer would tell you more when he arrived.”
“I see. Thank you for delivering this message. You may return to your post. Tell them I will follow shortly.” He glanced at Soldier 9425 at his feet. “And send in a medical crew to tend to this miserable wretch.”
“Yes, sir,” the soldier said, pounding his chest. He turned and left the room.
The Sun Mask looked down at Soldier 9425 for only a moment before stepping over them and pressing the button on his desk again. “Relieve the troops,” he said. “The fuhrer is on his way. We must prepare.”
One of his top five, this one dressed as a swordsman, stepped forward and saluted. “Yes, sir,” he said.
The Sun Mask removed his finger. He turned and stepped over the soldier once again to look out the opposite window at the city and port below.
Several hours later, every soldier stood at attention in the base’s large hangar, as motionless as statues, even the one in the very back with a heavily bandaged right hand. The Sun Mask and his top five stood at their head. A dark, batlike shape sped toward them from the western horizon, over Accra’s suburbs. In a matter of seconds, the airship hung directly overhead as the hangar’s ceiling cracked open, wide enough to let it through. The ship descended, blowing wind everywhere as its landing gear extended and the ship settled itself on the tarmac.
A door on one side opened and the fuhrer stepped out. He looked just as the Sun Mask remembered him, his entire body shrouded in a white robe, his face entirely concealed. The fuhrer stepped forward, and the Sun Mask bowed, his soldiers following his lead.
“Rise, my friend,” the fuhrer’s gentle voice said, suddenly at the Sun Mask’s side.
“Yes, my lord,” the Sun Mask said, standing and facing the fuhrer.
The fuhrer looked him over for a second or two. The Sun Mask held himself proudly. “You are looking well, my friend,” the fuhrer said. “It has been too long.”
“Yes it has.”
Very few in their organization had the privilege of being called “friend” by the fuhrer, and it was a privilege the Sun Mask greatly enjoyed. He turned to his troops, still kneeling. “Attention!” he shouted.
As one, the soldiers got back to their feet. “We have worked tirelessly to prepare the base for your arrival,” the Sun Mask reported.
“I can see that,” the fuhrer said, looking around at the soldiers. He swept his hand dismissively. “Send them all away. I wish to speak with you and you alone.”
“Yes, sir,” the Sun Mask nodded. He turned to his troops. “You heard him. Get back to duties. Immediately.”
The hangar was a flurry of activity as the soldiers flooded out of the room as quickly as they possibly could without incurring his wrath. Once they were gone, the Sun Mask gestured toward the nearby door. “Your sanctum is right through here, my lord,” he said.
“Lead the way,” the fuhrer said.
The Sun Mask led the fuhrer through the door, down a long corridor, and through a grand door just like the door back at the Corinth base. The room matched the fuhrer’s sanctums in other bases, completely dark except for an altar illuminated at the far end.
“Now,” the Sun Mask said, once he had secured the door. “What is this visit all about, my lord?”
The fuhrer swept up to his altar, running his sleeve along its surface. “I suppose I’ve kept you waiting long enough,” he said, looking up at the Sun Mask. “I spent the last few days at our base outside of Corinth, overseeing an attack on the EAGLE base there, to be led by the Samurai Mask. The raid failed. Unfortunately.”
The Sun Mask crossed his arms. “As is to be expected under the Samurai Mask’s leadership,” he scoffed.
“But it was not a total loss.” The fuhrer crossed to him and pulled a small photograph from his sleeve and held it out to him. The Sun Mask took it and looked it over. It seemed to be a standard-issue military photograph of a young EAGLE soldier with long blonde hair and a cowboy hat.
“Seems a little scrawny,” he said. “What’s so special about him?”
“He punched a hole straight through three inches of cast iron.”
The Sun Mask snickered. “A piece of the Samurai Mask, I assume.”
The fuhrer nodded. “And he blocked said mask’s katana, with his bare arm.”
The Sun Mask looked up. Now that was impressive. He’d seen that katana in action several times before himself. “Sounds like a bit more than your average EAGLE soldier.”
“He is,” the fuhrer said. “He is so much more.”
The Sun Mask flipped the soldier’s photo between his fingers. “I’m listening.”
Although he couldn’t see the fuhrer’s face under his hood, the fuhrer seemed to almost smile. “I’m sure you know, as we’ve discussed this before, that part of our operations over the years have been spent seeking out methods to create an army of super soldiers. I’m sure you're at least aware of the results of our most recent lead on that front.”
“The red superhero who took out the Golden Mask?”
The fuhrer nodded. “The very same, unfortunately.” He moved around behind his altar. “That is the most notable one, for sure, but not the only one we’ve pursued. Most ultimately came to nothing, except for one.
“One of our moles within EAGLE discovered a brilliant scientist who had developed a way to convert normal human beings into cybernetic super-soldiers by injecting nanites directly into their bloods. We tried to replicate the process ourselves, but it never saw the same results, so we elected instead to enlist him. Our mole approached him, convincing him he worked for EAGLE, and setting him to work on completing the project.
“Experiments began right away, the scientist happily unaware of who he was truly working for. That young man there,” he gestured to the photograph in the Sun Mask’s fingers, “was the first candidate for the procedure. Everything went well, the tests proved fruitful, and he became the world’s first cyborg super-soldier. And then everything went wrong.”
“Let me guess,” the Sun Mask said, laying the soldier’s photo down on the altar. “They figured out who they were working for.”
The fuhrer nodded. “It seems that way,” he said. “Before we could get him to perform the procedure on any of our own, now that the procedure had proved a success, the scientist and the young soldier broke out of the lab in the middle of the night and went into hiding. We pursued them for many months, but they evaded us at every turn, no mask we sent against them standing a chance against him. Eventually, we lost them altogether.”
“Until yesterday,” the Sun Mask said. “When this special young soldier slipped up and gave himself away.”
“That’s correct.”
“And that’s why you’re here.” The Sun Mask bent down to look the fuhrer approximately in the eye. “You want my help bringing him down.”
The fuhrer nodded. “This young man’s abilities are far beyond the capabilities of any single soldier in my army. Even yours. No one stands a chance against him. But you, my friend, are the only one that comes close.”
The Sun Mask smiled. He liked the sound of this mission already. “What would I receive in return?”
“What would you like?”
The Sun Mask considered. He looked down at his hand, incredibly strong but still imperfect and mortal. “These cybernetic enhancements,” he said. “Assuming we find this scientist in the process, I want to be the first upgraded.”
The fuhrer nodded. “Anything else?”
“Then I want to control the whole of the African continent. Not just this one base. I want every single one. Nairobi, Cairo, Johannesburg, all of them.”
The fuhrer considered for a moment. He held out his robed hand. “I think, my dear friend, that we have ourselves a deal.”
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