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After hearing Coulson's report, Shen He's eyes narrowed slightly, surprise flashing across his usually composed expression. Then understanding dawned.
Wakanda had long abided by the principle of "prosper in silence." For centuries, the kingdom had thrived in secrecy, cultivating power and guarding its borders while the world remained unaware of its true strength.
That's why, even after several attempts, Coulson had been unable to establish any meaningful contact with them.
If they had appeared now—without warning—it likely meant that this current global crisis had finally escalated to a level that Wakanda could no longer afford to ignore.
"Are they here now?" Shen He asked, tapping his index finger on the armrest rhythmically.
"Yes," Coulson replied. "They materialized just outside the Chaldea facility. Four of them: King T'Chaka, his heir T'Challa, and two members of the Dora Milaje."
"I see..." Shen He stood, then abruptly sat back down, thoughtful. "Let them wait a while. I'll meet them once we're finished here."
Wakanda was, at this moment, still under the rule of the elder king.
Shen He's understanding of T'Chaka was limited—especially since, in most timelines, the man died early in the events of Civil War. But one thing was certain: he was a far more cautious and tradition-bound leader than his son. His repeated refusals to engage with Chaldea made that clear.
Given that, Shen He couldn't afford to appear too eager.
Coulson blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Shen He's uncharacteristic decision to impose a waiting period—but quickly grasped the strategic intent. He nodded and quietly exited the room.
Tony and the others remained silent. This was Shen He's arena. Diplomatic maneuvering, especially in high-stakes global affairs, had always been his responsibility.
---
In the reception room, Coulson approached the four individuals, all dressed in traditional Wakandan garments—elegant, ceremonial, and unmistakably symbolic of their nation's identity.
"I apologize," Coulson said, his tone polite but firm. "The Chairman is currently in a strategic conference. It may be some time before he's available." He offered his hand in greeting. "I'm Agent Coulson. I previously attempted contact with Wakanda on behalf of Chaldea. Regrettably, that effort bore no fruit."
When Loki first emerged into the world stage, Shen He had assigned Coulson to initiate contact with Wakanda. But even after days circling their hidden borders, Coulson hadn't managed to cross the threshold of their cloaking field.
T'Chaka was a man from Captain America's generation—well into his eighties, yet still imposing. His vitality, preserved by the heart-shaped herb, made him appear decades younger. He radiated an aura of restraint and measured authority, but his deeply furrowed brow betrayed his displeasure.
Still, this wasn't a state visit fueled by pride. His voice was calm, devoid of hostility. "May I ask how long we're expected to wait?"
"I couldn't say," Coulson answered smoothly, flashing his disarming smile. "The Chairman is currently meeting with Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, and several key strategists. Disengaging right now would be… difficult."
Whether it was Coulson's diplomatic charm or the weight of the names mentioned, T'Chaka's expression softened slightly. At the very least, he understood that Wakanda was not being casually brushed aside.
For years, he had endured the world's condescension as he played the part of a modest tribal monarch at UN summits. But this time, they had revealed Wakanda's true face—openly and deliberately.
"Father," T'Challa interjected, unable to contain himself. "We've come to extend Wakanda's hand. We wish to offer support during this war."
This moment had been long in the making.
T'Challa, poised to inherit the mantle of Black Panther, had always envisioned Wakanda taking a more active role in global affairs. The emergence of Attilan had shaken his worldview—and opened the possibility that Wakanda, too, could walk a different path.
The appearance of alien motherships looming over Earth had finally convinced his father that isolation was no longer viable.
"The Chaldean stance has always encouraged unity," Coulson said, immediately picking up on the prince's sincerity. "Every capable nation, every brave people—together, we stand stronger. However…" Coulson paused just long enough to let the implication land. "It's true that the situation has already escalated. The Chairman may already have committed to a direction."
Coulson, aware of Shen He's instruction to apply controlled pressure, knew how to temper his tone.
T'Chaka's frown returned, deeper this time, and his eyes narrowed on Coulson. The subtext was unmistakable: You waited for us to show weakness before accepting us.
And perhaps more damningly: You might not need us anymore.
A part of him—the proud protector of Wakanda—wanted to walk away on principle.
But then his gaze flickered to T'Challa.
His son had fought tirelessly for this moment, urging reform, urging openness. Someday, the crown would pass to him. It would be foolish to poison Wakanda's future over one moment of bruised pride.
"…We are here now," T'Chaka said, his voice heavy. "And we hope to meet the leader of Chaldea."
"Of course," Coulson said smoothly. "Please be patient a little longer."
Even if they had decided to walk away, Coulson had a dozen contingency plans to keep them talking.
Now, small talk filled the silence. Background details, shared history, subtle exchanges. It wasn't a formal diplomatic meeting, but both sides were measuring the other.
An hour passed.
Finally, Shen He entered the room with Jeanne d'Arc by his side. Coulson exhaled quietly in relief. The delay had served its purpose—but any longer, and the meeting could've collapsed.
"Your Majesty," Shen He strode forward, extending a hand. "It's no small thing to meet you. I sent three envoys to Wakanda… but none even glimpsed your people. I must say, I didn't expect to meet the King in person."
Though his tone carried a smile, his words bore deliberate weight.
T'Chaka immediately understood. So this was why they had been kept waiting.
This man wasn't a bureaucrat or a diplomat trained in niceties. He was a leader—one who didn't have to play by the UN's script.
Wakanda would not be treated as special simply for showing up.
"…That was Wakanda's failing," T'Chaka admitted after a moment, exhaling slowly. "We have long chosen not to interfere in external affairs."
"I understand," Shen He nodded, gesturing for them to sit. "Just like Wakanda concealed its vibranium reserves from the world—sometimes, hiding is the best way to protect what matters. But…"
He leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with the king.
"…The greater the power, the greater the responsibility. Wakanda's brilliance and technology are too great to remain in the shadows forever."
T'Chaka's face didn't change, but his pulse quickened.
Shen He's words carried an unmistakable implication: We know exactly what you are.
It was as though Wakanda had been under watch all this time—like Chaldea had peeled back the layers and seen the kingdom in full.
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