Its night time, people are gathered round the camp fire, under the starry sky as the the moon shine its bright white light upon the people.
The eldest, Mika, sat at the middle of the fire, and the remaining people gathered around to listen to the story he has to tell.
Long a ago, there lived a tribe in he heart of Africa, the Mojila tribe. These tribe were known as the king of Africa. Their dark skin glows in the night, their blood as white as snow with a calm and deadly aura originating from them as they walked.
Other tribes were oppressed by their destructive power. However, this was not all the power they had. When the Mojila tribe reache a certain age, they tend to unlock their toshi powers. With this power, their sneeze could cause damage up to a 10 kilometer radius. As deadly as an atomic bomb. The gas let out from their lungs is enough to suffocate anyone caught in the blast.
Due to this destructive power, many nations, far and wide, sought to kidnap them for scientific purposes. They aim to use the people as zombie soldiers, brainwash them, clear their memories and be at a state where they follow orders without complaints.
Though the Mojila tribes men are this powerful, they are loved by the surrounding tribes, not because of their power, but because of their big heart. Loving, caring and eager to help the needy even if it means sacrificing themselves to make other people happy.
Time passed, and with constant harvest of the tribe, they went into extinct. Most of them decide to unalive themselves instead of being mindless soldiers. Those that were captured, died during the experiments. The only thing that is left of them currently, is just their memories.
This is a fiction