"Brother!" Shuri screamed, her voice echoing through the hall. Her body trembled as if the air had been stolen from her lungs, and she nearly fainted from the shock.
The old king beside her pointed at the metallic intruders, his hand shaking dramatically. His entire frame quivered as though a heart attack was moments away.
If anyone had been paying close attention, they might have noticed a flicker of calculation behind the old king's eyes. Shin couldn't help but silently admire his performance. For someone masquerading as royalty, Mystique's acting skills were nothing short of award-worthy.
Yet it was not the old king who made the biggest scene—it was Ramonda, T'Challa's mother, and the queen of Wakanda. Her body convulsed at the sight before her, and then she collapsed entirely, limbs limp and eyes rolling back as she fainted dead away.
The Dora Milaje, Wakanda's elite royal guard, stood stunned for precious seconds. The sudden chaos had paralyzed them, their disciplined formation broken by confusion.
The intruders, however, didn't hesitate. Several Ultron drones stepped forward in perfect synchronization. One extended its arm, seizing Princess Shuri by the shoulders with inhuman strength, while the others raised their hands and unleashed blinding beams of red light. Laser fire crackled through the air, striking down multiple guards before they could even react.
In the films, the Dora Milaje were icons of bravery and martial prowess. But in truth, Wakanda had lived in peace for far too long. With no real wars for decades, only a handful of the guards possessed genuine combat experience. Most relied on advanced vibranium armor and energy spears to deal with lesser threats—never anticipating a full-scale robotic assault.
In this brutal moment of reality, hesitation proved fatal. The palace filled with screams and the scent of scorched metal as energy beams tore through the room. Only the captain of the guard managed to roll aside and survive the initial volley. The rest were slain instantly, among them the Wakandan queen herself.
"Mother! You bastards!" Shuri shouted, struggling against the cold steel grip of her captor. Her voice was raw with grief and rage, but her strength was no match for the machines. Her hands struck uselessly against vibranium plating, the blows nothing more than faint taps to the Ultron drones.
Ultron's forces hadn't targeted her by accident. From T'Challa's stolen memories, Ultron already knew who Shuri was, the prodigy behind Wakanda's technological miracles. She was the chief mind responsible for the nation's vibranium energy systems and its nearly impenetrable optical camouflage barrier. To Ultron, capturing her was a tactical necessity, not a whim.
Two figures, however, moved before anyone else could. The trembling "old king" and the silent Sabretooth reacted with battle-hardened instincts.
Just kidding, neither was trembling in truth. The Brotherhood of Mutants had fought through countless wars. Mystique, in disguise, rolled nimbly to the floor, abandoning her frail act and taking cover behind the vibranium throne. Its dense alloy structure easily withstood the searing lasers that scorched the walls around her.
Sabretooth, on the other hand, roared like an enraged beast and launched himself forward. He didn't even bother dodging. Instead, he charged headlong into the laser fire, his healing factor already working overtime to mend the smoking holes that appeared in his flesh.
The Ultron drones' energy weapons had tremendous penetrating power, capable of burning through steel with a single shot. Yet against Sabretooth's regenerative body, they were ineffective. Compared to old-fashioned kinetic rounds, the lasers lacked impact force. They seared and pierced, but they couldn't stop the hulking mutant's momentum. Within seconds, the wounds in his chest closed as if nothing had happened.
The drones tried to reposition, but Sabretooth was already upon them. His claws gleamed as he seized two of the Ultron robots by their heads and smashed them together. A crackling explosion of sparks, lightning, and molten metal filled the chamber. Their iron skulls split apart, revealing delicate electronic components.
These were not vibranium models, just ordinary alloy drones. Against a predator like Sabretooth, their durability was laughable. He dented another one's head with a savage punch, sending it staggering backward. He lunged to finish it off, but the damaged unit suddenly raised its arm and fired point-blank at his face.
Sabretooth snarled as the blast grazed his temple. He had assumed, foolishly, that once their heads were crushed, the robots would stop functioning. But machines didn't die from concussions. Even half-destroyed, their processors kept working, their programming forcing them to fight until their final circuit failed.
Sensing danger a heartbeat too late, Sabretooth raised his forearms as the drone's cannon fired again. The beam drilled through muscle and bone, punching clean holes through his arms, but missed his skull by inches.
"Argh!" he bellowed in fury. With a swipe of his claws, he tore the damaged drones apart, ripping through servos and circuits like paper. Metal limbs flew across the floor, sparking violently.
But while Sabretooth was busy tearing through the nearest drones, the others were already escaping. Three robots activated their boosters, a brilliant blue glow erupting from their feet as they lifted off—Princess Shuri trapped in their mechanical grip.
They crashed upward, smashing into the palace skylight, only to meet resistance. The ceiling's framework was reinforced with vibranium, denying them an easy exit. Sparks and molten glass rained down as they blasted futilely against it.
Below, Sabretooth howled, his claws gouging deep grooves into the palace floor. "Come back here!" he roared, leaping futilely toward the ceiling.
The surviving guard captain aimed her laser spear upward, firing several desperate shots at the ascending robots. The red beams hit their targets but barely slowed them. A final burst of energy from their thrusters shattered the remaining glass, and they broke free into the open sky.
Outside, Wakandan soldiers looked up in disbelief as the glowing blue figures streaked across the night sky. The Ultron drones moved like comets, cutting through the air faster than any aircraft.
At the border, they met the shimmering dome of the nation's energy shield. One of the drones pulled a Kimoyo bead from Shuri's wrist and activated it, effortlessly opening a gap in the barrier. The drones slipped through, vanishing into the clouds.
Back inside the palace, chaos reigned. Ministers and guards flooded into the throne room, shouting over one another. The old king, still Mystique in disguise, emerged from behind the throne, clutching her chest dramatically before collapsing to the floor again.
"His Majesty! Quick, get the medics!" someone cried.
Others knelt beside the fallen queen's body or rushed to the wounded. The air was filled with grief and confusion.
After several tense minutes, "the old king" finally stirred, blinking weakly as servants fanned him. Mystique played her part flawlessly, voice hoarse with false fatigue. "My daughter… Shuri… has been taken…"
A chorus of ministers broke out in fearful whispers.
With T'Challa dead under mysterious circumstances and Princess Shuri now abducted, Wakanda found itself leaderless. The line of succession was shattered.
The tribal leaders exchanged uneasy glances. Some saw opportunity amid tragedy; others hid their ambition behind solemn expressions. Mystique, disguised as the old king, watched them all, her expression carefully composed.
Outwardly, she barked orders for search parties and rescue operations.
"We will not rest until the Princess is returned!" she declared.
Inwardly, however, she was elated. The two people most likely to see through her disguise, the queen and Shuri, were now out of the picture.
One dead, the other taken by Ultron. The thought filled her with cold satisfaction.
As the council scrambled to debate emergency measures, Mystique remained calm. She had no intention of actually finding Shuri. The longer this chaos dragged on, the more secure her position became.
Let the other tribal leaders plot and argue, she thought. Let them tear each other apart.
Hidden behind the mask of the grieving king, Mystique allowed herself the faintest of smiles.
For the first time since setting foot in Wakanda, she finally felt safe.
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Now available - Chapter 634: Battle of Taurus