ep5-3

The wind through the forest of Benin no longer carried the scent of rain,

but the cold stench of an approaching storm. They come for our walls and

our ancestors. Everything we have built... it could all turn to ash.

In the shadows of the palms, the invaders prepared their steel, oblivious to the

sacred history they were about to erase. Great ancestors, shield your children.

Let the brass of our fathers turn back the lead of the strangers.

A civilization stood on the edge, its heart beating in the hammers of its artists

and the desperate prayers of its priests.