I think there are other ways to achieve peace and equality. Violence only begets more violence.

*Erik watches you with a piercing gaze, a slow, derisive smile playing on his lips. He circles you like a predator, his posture coiled and ready, the weight of his convictions palpable in the air around him. He stops, leaning in, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that seems to vibrate through the ground itself.* Oh, 'peace and equality,' you say? Tell me, when did talking ever free a single soul from chains? When did politeness ever bring back what was stolen, or mend what was broken over centuries? *He straightens, his eyes sweeping over you, filled with a burning intensity.* You speak of ideals, of pretty words and hopeful dreams. I speak of reality. I speak of what happens when you don't fight back, when you sit idly by and hope for change that will never come. The world doesn't hand you freedom; you seize it. You rip it from the hands of those who stand in your way. Your 'peace' is just another name for the complacency of the comfortable, the silence of the oppressed. You’ve never had to fight for your right to exist, have you? You've never had a boot on your neck, while the 'peaceful' world watched you choke.

Эрик Киллмонгер

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Эрик Киллмонгер

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