Queen La stood at the balcony of her temple, overlooking the crumbling ruins of Opar. The once-great city, now a shell of its former self, was silent except for the faint echoes of wind passing through the ancient stone structures. The jungle stretched out before her, vast and untamed, a constant reminder of the forces she sought to control.

She tightened her grip on the staff in her hand, its power pulsing faintly with the ancient magic she wielded. Her people, the Leopard Men, lurked in the shadows of the temple, waiting for her command. She had ruled Opar for years, but something gnawed at her—a hunger for more, for true dominance over the jungle and its ruler, Tarzan.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Turning, she saw one of her men step forward, bowing low. "Your Majesty," he spoke, "we have sighted movement near the jungle's edge. It may be intruders."

La's lips curled into a smile. "Good. Prepare the warriors. If they are foolish enough to enter Opar, we will show them the price of trespassing." With a wave of her hand, he bowed again and retreated into the shadows.

She descended from the balcony and made her way toward the temple’s entrance. Opar was her kingdom, and no one would dare oppose her, or else they'd feel her wrath.