Nkrumah could only stand there in a shocked stupor, watching but not really taking in the carnage and confusion around him. 

He saw the still smoking crater made by the bomb that nearly killed but only injured him. He saw the people writhing in mental and physical agony from the effects of the bomb. He saw his personal security forces try their best to bring some order to the rightfully scared and panicked crowd who had come out in their numbers to honor him, but were rather made casualties in his private war with his enemies.

He saw the fancy news cameras which had been set up to capture his moment of glory and adoration for the rest of the country to see. He saw all this, but didn’t take it in, maybe for fear of overloading his fragile mind.

And through all of this, there was one other thing he was trying oh so hard to not see, much more take in. He still felt its presence, however. Even as he stood, he felt the weight of her limp body in his arms, her limbs laying lifeless at her side.

Her medium length hair was billowing lightly due to a breeze which also blew dust, soot and ash in his direction. He was fighting a losing battle to not look at or acknowledge his dead wife who he was holding in his rapidly tiring and injured arms, an unfortunate casualty of the attempt on his life.

He was especially trying not to replay the last mental message she beamed into his mind, followed by a bright flash of light so blinding and unreal that he involuntarily cried out. She was telling him how much she loved him. There would be time to replay all of this when he was in a better state of mind, after his people were taken care of.

His eyes finally snapped to focus when he saw three members of his personal guard running towards him frantically, calling his name. He was quiet as they came to help him, checking on him first, then his wife, and realizing she was beyond help, one of them gently laying her down while the others supported him and walked him to safety.

As they moved the cobwebs began to clear and suppressed emotions started to rise to the surface; grief, confusion, anger, fear, and denial. Who had done this?

The former president was long dead, a victim of the psychic powers he had no full control or understanding of. The members of his government who were more loyal to their master or his sick cause were imprisoned. With their proxy dead, (the Phoenix group) had no interest in Ghana anymore. So who was it?

And yet the longer he thought about certain past events, the better he was able to eliminate the usual suspects and come to his own sad answer.

It was J.B. It had to be him.

Who else had the insider knowledge about his powers….knowledge enough to design a weapon meant to bypass his powerful telekinetic shields and scramble his psychic aura? The problem wasn’t that he didn’t sense the bomb in time…he hadn’t, but that shouldn’t have been a problem.

It could have been a small tactile nuclear device for all he cared, and he SHOULD have been able to disarm or contain the blast. It was like the bomb had two explosions, a standard one and another one that slyly slipped past his defenses with mocking ease taking a good chunk of his concentration with it.

Defenseless, he only managed to weakly redirect it in an effort to minimize the damage, but it was too late for him and his wife.  Now that he had begun to think clearly, his mental powers returned to him fully. J.B had just declared war on him with this attempt on his life.

Ever since thier falling out and the official disbandment of the team, J.B had been imprisoned in a secret low tech holding facility, deep underground where there was no chance of accessing any tech or broadcasting signals from overhead.

But against all odds he escaped and went dark for months. Angry as he was, he secretly hoped J.B would leave the country for good or exile himself to some lonely place, and not get in his way of progress for the country…but this attack proved different.

With his anger rising, causing his security detail to slowly back away from him in fear, Nkrumah noticed bits of debris floating around him. He was seeing red now, and there would be no mercy for J.B or anyone who had helped him.