The Orisa (orisha) Warrior Ogun (god of Iron), disgusted with the atrocities and injustices of humanity, sought out and found a host to embody his essence. Under the watchful eye of Obatala (King of the white cloth, creator of all Orisas) and the blessings of all the Orisas, a force of immeasurable power will be bound to one to create a ferocious spirit of righteousness. All that is wrong will be made right. He will not be bound by the laws of this planet nor its corrupt inhabitants. He will supercede all. He will become SUPERCEDE.

His name is Leonard Vast
On March 4 2001 a baby was born 3 months premature in St Vincent's Hospital on Staten Island to First Lt. Leo Vast and his wife Belinda. It was a traumatic birth, but proud father that he was, Leo saw the fight in his child to live and proudly gave him his name. Leonard Sherwynd Vast. Over the next six months he watched his baby fight from ventilator, to incubator, then finally to a crib of his own. After countless examinations and observations it was determined that young Leo was a "special needs" baby and would be "delayed" in his development. By all accounts, Leo was a perfectly normal child, less his lack of speech and four small, almost fashionably placed bladelike birthmarks, one on each thigh and each wrist. Despite all the poking and prodding by the doctors, Leo never made a sound. They diagnosed him autistic. But nevertheless, 2 years, 6 pediatricians and 4 hospitals later Baby Leonard was finally able come home.
When Leo was three years old his father was called to Iraq. It was two years post 9-11. Five months later, 1st Lt. Leornard Vast Sr. was killed in active duty. He was a victim of questionable circumstances in Fallujah. Although far too young to understand what happened to his father, he saw the pain through his mother's tears. Momma Belinda was an orphaned child brought up in foster care. She had no immediate family. Leo Jr. watched his mother struggle to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table with little compensation from the government for their loss. He watched his mother who never drank, go from alcohol, to prescription drugs to a full blown street drug addiction as she continued to cope with the loss of her husband. His mother's moods would swing from ecstatic glee to the darkest depression. Then the physical and verbal abuse began. It seemed as if the only time Leo wasn't beaten, was when momma was asleep.
By the time Leo started school at nearby Edwin Markam School I.S.51, Momma Vast was working to support a crippling drug habit. The verbal and physical abuse worsened and was more than any child should bear. Leo was physically abused in a seemingly endless cycle. But despite all, Leo was a good boy. You can’t measure a boy's love for his mother. He knew enough to keep the house clean, do his own homework and stay away from momma as much as possible when she was mad. Misdiagnosed, Leo was a very bright boy, but his little vocal impairment kept him in his own little world. Considered an oddball, he had no friends. Unbeknown to him, his Ase' (*Achay means power) was strong and that protected him through his darkest days.
Leo was 9 when he came home from school dreading what mood he might get from his mother. He was greeted by a stench at the front door. Growing up in the hood, his street sense prepared him for the worst. Slowly, he walked past the kitchenette and through the small living room. As he walked past the bathroom and down the hallway to his mother's room, the stench grew stronger. The bedroom door was half open. He opened the door to find his mother sprawled across the bed, half naked, eyes wide open, a washed in her own excrement. Leo stood in the doorway motionless and expressionless for more than an hour. Paralyzed, he wanted to cry but no tears came. Then quietly he turned around, walked down the hallway, back through the living room, past the kitchenette and through the front door without looking back. Leo started walking and kept walking.
Growing up in the projects of Stapleton Housing on Staten Island, it was so easy for Leo to just vanish. He knew he didn't want to be there or anywhere for that matter. So he roamed for the next few days. He made most of his moves at night as he slept during the day usually in any woods he could find. He somehow felt safe there. Scrounging for food in dumpsters, he stayed as invisible as he possibly could. Slipping onto the lower level of the Staten Island Ferry one evening, then onto the subway in Manhattan where he disappeared into the tunnels. Leo wandered through the labyrinth of tunnels, instinctively staying clear of the deadly third rail and the population of rodents. Napping here and there, he never stayed long enough in one spot to be noticed. Those rare moments when Leo did sleep, he did so lightly being mindful of the dangers of the dark city. When he finally rose from out of the tunnels of the New York City Subway system, he found himself on the streets of the Bronx. When he saw the gates of Van Cortlandt Park he ran as fast as he could into the woods warming embrace. The woods gave him shelter, peace and security. It gave him everything he needed to cut himself off from everyone and everything. Unknowingly, it also brought him closer to the man that would change his life forever...............to be continued