THE ORISHA

OBATALA

Araba Annan-Boone was in a cab en route
to the hospital when the Spark hit.

​

As the car crashed, Araba’s skin hardened. Her muscles
swelled and toughened breaking the glass of the windshield
she sailed through. She emerged from the crash,
clothes torn, but unharmed.

​

The driver was not so lucky. Araba laid hands upon
the dying man. With a sculptor’s care, she knitted
his bones and healed his wounds.

​

Araba Annan-Boone died on the way to hospital. Obatala,
the Queen of Stone, stood in her place... Reborn.

OGUN

He was married to a beautiful, intelligent and determined physician. Together, they were an almost unbeatable power couple. Yes, life was good for Kofi Malik Boone...

​

Then, the Spark of Jomo’s rebirth changed everything.

​

He found himself living a life he had always dreamed of.
He built rather than destroyed. The Wild Man gave way to the Architect. He was at peace. But, the time for peace was done.
The Spark was a call to arms...
 

And once again, Ogun would answer that call.

​

OSHUN

Sony Kilgore didn’t know that Jomo had been shot.
As Sony was riding her bicycle through Gas Works Park,
she found herself becoming flush as if she had a sudden attack of heatstroke.

​

Succumbing to the wave of the Spark, Sony imagined
she was an overheated boiler exploding from the pressure.
This “explosion” opened the valves of her mind. She saw
herself as one with the sun itself.

​

Sony found herself naked in the middle of a smoking crater
at the edge of the GWP trail. She modestly converted her body to pure energy and soared off into the sky. Oshun, the Light of Truth, was about to be reunited with her family.

OYA

Adwowa Afeyni-Annan was meeting with the Ministry of Energy when it struck. The Spark wave attacked her mind like a hurricane of confusion as images of another life destroyed the carefully designed construct of her reality. Adwowa needed to escape, to run far away from the new memories that threatened her sanity.

​

Adwowa found herself in Yeji, hundreds of miles from the offices of the Ghana National Petroleum Company. Looking at the cooling embers of trail she left behind, Adwowa, now Oya, the Catalyst and Queen of the Wind, was annoyed about the time it would take to run to Detroit, where the others would gather...

“Probably an hour, “ she thought.

​

​

SHANGO

It was the dream of justice that led to
Jomo Nathaniel Massaquoi's death.

​

He felt the storm surge through his veins as his goddess
bestowed the gift, and the responsibility of the Spark,
onto him. He was reminded of the unfinished mission he
and the others were charged.

​

Upon waking in the hospital, Jomo realized the life he led
was a lovely fiction...

And, Shango, the Avenger, had no time for fiction.

​

YEMAYA

​The Spark was activated as Doctor Djenaba Mitchell
pressed the paddles to Jomo’s chest in an attempt to start
his stilled heart.

​

The path of a river once diverted was corrected as
Djenaba grabbed the water from the air and formed a shield to protectthe doctors in the operating room from the Avenger’s birth cry.

​

Once called the Mermaid, they will now call her the Protector.

Still, her name is Yemaya.

ESHU

Jani Varny Massaquoi was caught in the wave of the Spark
when it activated. When he woke, his vision was altered.

He saw the angles, the possibilities, the various
doors and pathways of existence...

“So, this is the path chosen ... And, I have locs,”
Eshu mused as he caught his bearings.

“Well, time to get to work. The Elysium ain’t gonna
save itself” the Trickster said as he once again
set upon the Crossroads.

OF MYTH

"The Horsemen  isn’t just a comic, it's a whole spiritual workout for the mind, body, and ancestral soul. The moment
I read that line 'They thought they had returned to save humanity…' I knew this wasn’t your regular superhero saga, it's the kind that makes Marvel heroes look like they’re
still in training wheels."

​

"Anderson built The Horsemen universe not as fantasy
but as mythology reborn powerful, Afrofuturistic, and rooted in truth. The kind of storytelling that reminds peopleof culture isn’t just something to consume; it’s something to worship."

​

"And man, let’s be honest. Anderson's bio reads like
a comic book hero’s secret origin story itself. From the Smithsonian National Museum of African Art to Chicago State University, from GQ to Afropunk… he practically "Thanos-snapped" his way through academia, fine art,and pop culture.  I mean, The Smithsonian’s permanent library? Come on. That’s not a flex; that’s a divine credential."