Wakanda Royal Hangar
The afterglow of the Sun cast over Wakanda's vast grasslands, the golden light coating this nation, hidden behind a technological barrier, with a sacred radiance. T'Challa's fighter jet slowly descended onto the Royal Hangar. The moment the hatch opened, he took a deep breath and stepped down the gangway.
Queen Ramonda and Princess Su Rui had been waiting for a long time, with the Dora Milaje neatly lined up behind them. They held Vibranium spears, their expressions solemn. T'Challa's gaze immediately fell upon his mother's face—her eyes were red, and though she tried her best to maintain her royal dignity, the sorrow and anxiety in her eyes could not be concealed.
"Mother, Su Rui." T'Challa quickly stepped forward, bowing his head slightly in greeting.
"My child..." Queen Ramonda's voice trembled slightly. She reached out and touched T'Challa's cheek, her fingertips cold, "You've finally returned."
Su Rui stood to the side, usually so lively, she was silent now, only clutching the tablet in her hand tightly, her knuckles white.
T'Challa's heart sank.
"How is Father?" he asked softly, though he had already guessed from Queen Ramonda's expression, he still hoped to hear a different answer.
Queen Ramonda took a deep breath and shook her head slightly: "He is severely injured now, and can only..."
Queen Ramonda covered her mouth mid-sentence, tears streaming down her face.
T'Challa's pupils suddenly contracted, a cold rage spreading from his spine throughout his body. But he did not lose control; he simply closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, his gaze was serene.
"Take me to him."
—
Royal Medical Room
Inside the Medical Room, advanced Vibranium medical equipment surrounded the bed, and a pale blue holographic projection displayed King T'Chaka's vital signs. His entire body was wrapped in bandages, his face pale, and his breathing faint.
T'Challa stood by the bed, gazing at his father's face. From childhood, T'Chaka had always been an unshakeable presence in his heart—powerful, wise, and majestic. But now, this Guardian of Wakanda lay on a sickbed, surprisingly fragile.
"Who did this?" T'Challa's voice was very soft, but it suppressed anger.
Su Rui stepped forward and pulled up a holographic image: "The attack happened during a border patrol. The enemy ambushed Father. It was..." She paused, her finger swiping, and the image magnified, "Ulysses Klaue."
T'Challa's gaze was fixed on the familiar figure in the holographic projection—Ulysses Klaue, the arms dealer who had stolen Wakanda's Vibranium and disappeared for many years after being pursued by Wakanda.
In the image, Ulysses Klaue's sinister smile flickered in and out of view amidst the flames.
"This doesn't make sense..." T'Challa's voice was very low, "Ulysses Klaue has been hiding for so many years, why would he suddenly risk attacking Father? And..."
He turned to Su Rui, his eyes filled with doubt: "Why would Father go on a border patrol alone? That's not logical."
Su Rui bit her lower lip and shook her head: "We don't understand either. According to the schedule, Father was supposed to receive the Elder of the tribes in the palace that day."
At this moment, Queen Ramonda, who had been silent, suddenly spoke: "The night before... he sat in the study for a long time." Her voice was as light as a feather falling, "When I woke up in the middle of the night, I found he wasn't in bed. Later, I found him in the study, staring blankly at a portrait of the black panther god."
T'Challa noticed his mother's fingers unconsciously intertwining: "Did he say anything?"
"Nothing," Queen Ramonda recalled, "He just stared blankly at the portrait of the black panther god until I called out to him, and he finally reacted."
"Su Rui," T'Challa suddenly spoke, "Pull up all of Father's itinerary records from the week before the attack, especially the people he interacted with and the information he reviewed."
Su Rui quickly operated the tablet: "Already checking... Wait!" Her finger suddenly stopped, "What is this?"
Su Rui quickly projected the retrieved image into the air, showing T'Chaka sitting on the throne, staring blankly at a necklace in his hand.
"This..." Queen Ramonda exclaimed, "This is the royal necklace, this... impossible."
T'Challa looked at his mother's distressed appearance. He gripped Queen Ramonda's shoulders with both hands, "Mother, what is this?"
Queen Ramonda's lips trembled a few times, "This..."
Just as Queen Ramonda was about to reveal the origin of the necklace.
A faint rustling sound suddenly came from the bed. King T'Chaka's hand, covered in needle marks, was slowly rising, and the waves on the monitor jumped violently. A muffled gasp escaped his throat, and his cracked lips moved with difficulty: "T... Cha... Lla..."
"Father!" T'Challa immediately knelt beside the bed, his hands enveloping his father's trembling palms. Su Rui's holographic projection froze on the throne image, and only the hum of the life support machine remained in the Medical Room.
T'Chaka's eyelids struggled to open a slit, and his cloudy pupils lit up faintly the moment they met his son's face. His fingertips moved, lightly brushing T'Challa's cheek, as if confirming it was real flesh and blood.
"Good... Good..." The old king's lips curved into an arc, every wrinkle steeped in relief, "My little Black Panther... finally... has bared his claws..."
T'Challa's Adam's apple bobbed. He felt his father's hand rapidly losing warmth: "You need to rest. When you recover—"
"Listen to me..." T'Chaka suddenly exerted force, gripping his son's wrist with astonishing strength. Queen Ramonda covered her mouth and stepped back half a step—this was a sign of a final burst of energy before Death.
The vital sign curve in the holographic projection began to fluctuate wildly. Su Rui's fingertips moved rapidly in the air, trying to stabilize the data. But T'Chaka only stared intently at his son, as if to engrave him deep into his pupils: "Ten years ago... when I put the Black Panther necklace on you by the waterfall... you asked me..." The old man's breathing was interspersed with intermittent wheezing, "You asked why a king must be alone..."
T'Challa trembled. Memories flooded back—on the day of his coronation, at fifteen years old, he knelt by the Thunder Waterfall. When the cold Vibranium necklace touched his chest, he had struggled to breathe under its immense weight.
"Now... you understand..." T'Chaka's finger traced his son's burning tears, leaving a cold, wet mark on his brow, "The crown will burn the flesh... But your spine... is harder than Vibranium..."
T'Challa wanted to speak again, but then saw King T'Chaka suddenly erupt with astonishing strength, his hands gripping his son's head like iron clamps.
The old king actually sprang up from the sickbed, veins bulging in his needle-marked arms, forcing his son's forehead against his own.
"Father! Your injuries—"
The monitor emitted a sharp alarm, Su Rui's gasp and Ramonda's sobs mingling together.
But T'Chaka was deaf to it all. His pupils contracted to tiny pinpoints in the intense pain, but a fierce light still burned within them.
The skin where their foreheads touched was as hot as lava, sweat beads flowing into streams along their intertwined wrinkles.
"It's time, my son!" The old king's hoarse roar, every syllable carrying the scent of blood, "You will inherit the throne! Inherit the will of the Black Panther! Protect Wakanda!"
The lights of the Medical Room twisted into a blue vortex in T'Challa's vision, his father's hot breath spraying on his face. Those words were not advice, but blades forged with his last life force, cutting into his bones, one by one.
"I..." T'Challa's Adam's apple bobbed violently.
"Look into my eyes!" T'Chaka suddenly roared, his fingernails almost digging into his son's scalp, "Child! I have made many mistakes in my life! I sealed off outside information, building Wakanda into a home independent of the World! But I know! Such a national policy will make Wakanda stagnant!"
T'Chaka gasped violently, "Wakanda's development has reached a bottleneck! Child! You are different from me! Next, it will be up to you to lead Wakanda, to show our strength to the World! To make Wakanda more progressive! More beautiful!"
"Promise me, child, that you will use your life to protect Wakanda, to make Wakanda great again!"
T'Challa's hands trembled violently. He felt his father's life rapidly slipping away between his fingers. The piercing alarm of the monitor seemed far away, and his vision was filled only with his father's pale face.
"I... I swear to you..." T'Challa's voice was broken, tears falling on his father's hand, "By the name of the black panther god, I will dedicate this life... only for the prosperity and peace of Wakanda..."
King T'Chaka's lips slowly curved upwards, a smile as if a thousand-pound burden had been lifted. He released his son's hands, allowing himself to fall back onto the bed. The waves on the monitor gradually smoothed out, and the old man's breathing became as faint as a wisp of smoke.
"Good... very good..." T'Chaka's voice was almost inaudible, yet miraculously it filled the entire Medical Room, "I declare... T'Challa... will inherit the throne..."
Queen Ramonda stumbled to the bedside, and Su Rui's tablet fell to the ground with a 'thud'. The members of the Dora Milaje all simultaneously knelt on one knee, the sound of their metal spears hitting the ground like solemn funeral bells.
"And…" The old King's pupils began to dilate, but a smile still hung on his lips, "to gain…the right…to consume the Heart-Shaped Herb…"
As the last syllable dissipated into the air, the monitor emitted a long beep. The vital signs on the holographic projection became a straight green line, extending infinitely in T'Challa's blurred vision.
"Father?" He called softly, his trembling fingers caressing his father's still warm face, "Father!"
Suppressed sobs erupted in the medical room. Queen Ramonda rested her forehead on her husband's chest, her shoulders shaking violently. Su Rui bit her lip so hard that blood dripped down her chin unnoticed.
T'Challa slowly straightened himself, tears streaming down his face. He reached out to touch his father's face, and as his fingertips met the gradually cooling skin, an unprecedented power surged from the depths of his bones.
"In the name of the black panther god," his voice no longer trembled, each word as hard as Vibranium, "I, T'Challa of Wakanda, hereby swear."
The sobs in the medical room ceased abruptly. Everyone looked up, watching the young Prince straighten his back. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a golden outline around him.
"I will inherit my father's will and protect every inch of Wakanda's land." T'Challa turned to his mother, reaching out to wipe away her tears, "I will find the murderer of my father and let his soul rest in peace."
Queen Ramonda gazed at her son's suddenly mature face, and for a moment, she seemed to see a young T'Chaka standing before her. She trembled as she reached out, taking the royal necklace from T'Chaka's neck, and then solemnly placed it in T'Challa's palm.
"My child…" Her voice was as soft as a sigh, "The future of Wakanda…is now in your hands."
T'Challa gripped the necklace, the sharp edges of the Vibranium digging into his palm. Blood dripped between his fingers, blooming into red plum blossoms on the pristine white tiles. He turned to face the window; the Wakanda grasslands in the afterglow of the setting Sun resembled burning gold.
"Prepare the Heart-Shaped Herb ceremony," he ordered calmly, but his words already carried the majesty of a King, "Tomorrow at dawn, I will formally inherit the Black Panther's power."
Su Rui wiped away her tears and quickly picked up a tablet to begin operating it. The members of the Dora Milaje responded in unison, their metal spears once again striking the ground with a deafening roar.
T'Challa took one last look at his father's peaceful remains, gently covering the familiar face with a White cloth. When he looked up again, his tears had dried, replaced by a resolute gleam like Vibranium.
"For Wakanda." He whispered, turning to walk towards Thunder Falls. The setting Sun stretched his Shadow long, like a Black Panther poised to strike.
— — — —
Middle East · Unnamed Village
The scorching Sun baked this barren land. Ulysses Klaue swaggered down the dirt road of the village, followed by a group of laughing and joking mercenaries. They had just completed a transaction, their pockets stuffed with cash, and the alcohol and exhilaration of victory made them push and shove each other without restraint.
"Hey, boss!" A burly mercenary, holding a wine bottle, shouted drunkenly, "We hit the jackpot this time! Are we going to have endless Vibranium now?"
Ulysses Klaue grinned, revealing a mouth full of gold teeth: "Of course, I—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a mercenary responsible for communications hurried forward and whispered a few words in his ear.
Ulysses Klaue's smile instantly froze.
"Fux!" He suddenly exploded in rage, turning and kicking over an oil drum beside him, "All of you, get the hell out! Now!"
The mercenaries were stunned by the sudden roar, and most of their drunkenness instantly dissipated. They looked at each other, but no one dared to ask another question, scattering like birds and beasts.
Ulysses Klaue's face was grim as he strode towards a mud house deep in the village. He roughly pushed open the door, which hit the wall with a dull 'bang'.
The light inside the house was dim. A tall figure stood facing the doorway, head bowed, wiping a Vibranium dagger. The person had dreadlocks, the ends of their hair meticulously braided into sharp points, like a leopard baring its fangs.
"Eric." Ulysses Klaue's voice was laced with suppressed anger, "Where's the Vibranium you promised?!"
Eric slowly looked up, expressionless, his gaze sharp as he looked at Ulysses Klaue, "Ulysses Klaue, the Vibranium will come. I will go to Wakanda and gain the throne. At that time, all of Wakanda's Vibranium will belong to me."
"What do you mean?!" Ulysses Klaue angrily rushed in front of Eric, "You damn—! You said if I attacked T'Chaka, you'd pay me Vibranium! Now what? Are you writing a bad check?!"
Eric slowly stood up, the dim light in the room casting his Shadow on the mud wall, like a leopard about to pounce.
"Ulysses Klaue," his voice was as low as sandpaper rubbing, "What did you just call me?"
Ulysses Klaue realized his slip of the tongue, but the alcohol and anger made him stick out his neck: "I said you're a damned—"
A cold flash. Ulysses Klaue suddenly felt a chill at his throat. He instinctively raised his hand to touch his neck, his fingertips meeting warm liquid. He widened his eyes, staring in disbelief at his blood-soaked hands.
"You…you…" His voice became a leaking bellows, and he staggered back two steps, hitting the wall.
Eric flicked the blood drops from the dagger, his eyes as cold as if looking at an animal to be slaughtered: "I will defeat T'Challa in a traditional challenge. Wakanda's throne challenge ceremony allows any royal bloodline to initiate a duel."
Ulysses Klaue slid down the wall to the ground, his hands futilely covering his bleeding throat. His lips moved, but he could only make gasping sounds.
"You think I can't get in?" Eric crouched down, his eyes fixed on Ulysses Klaue's dilating pupils, "My father was Prince N'Jobu, T'Chaka's own brother. Legitimate royal blood flows in my veins."
Ulysses Klaue could no longer speak, but Eric continued unhurriedly: "As for you…you will be my pass into Wakanda."
He stood up, looking down at Ulysses Klaue's life slowly ebbing away: "Thank you for helping me get rid of T'Chaka. In return, I'll make your Death quick."
A final flicker of fear crossed Ulysses Klaue's eyes. Eric raised his foot, his military boot pressing heavily on his throat.
A crisp 'crunch'.
Eric turned expressionlessly and sat back down. Suddenly, the air behind him subtly twisted, and a White figure emerged from the darkness, robes flowing like Water, unstained by a single speck of dust.
The woman stepped forward slowly, her toes lightly touching the ground without making any sound. She leaned down, her slender fingers gently touching Eric's Sun temple, a faint blue glow emanating from her fingertips.
"Well done, Eric." Her voice was ethereal, devoid of any humanity, "Ulysses Klaue's Death will be your stepping stone to the throne."
Eric's eyeballs gradually changed under the light, his pupils disappearing, his Whites spreading, eventually turning into a chaotic pallor. His lips trembled slightly, his voice no longer his own, but a manipulated whisper: "...Wakanda...throne..."
The woman's lips curved in satisfaction, the light from her fingertips flickering slightly: "Next, you are to go to Wakanda and challenge T'Challa before Thunder Falls. You will give your all and, during the ceremony, kill T'Challa."
A vague response came from Eric's throat, like a controlled puppet.
"Then…" The woman's voice suddenly lowered, carrying a seductive power, "As the new King, you are to request a meeting with the Arbitrators."
Eric's body trembled slightly.
"Lure Chen Tian to Wakanda…" The woman's fingertips lightly traced Eric's forehead, leaving a barely perceptible blue mark, "As long as he steps onto that land, Thanos's plan will be halfway complete."
Eric's lips opened and closed mechanically: "..Thanos…My Lord….."
The woman withdrew her fingers, and the light dissipated. She straightened up, her robes gleaming with a cold luster in the dim light: "Remember, Eric, your loyalty will be rewarded."
She took a step back, her figure gradually blurring as if about to merge into the darkness: "Thanos never mistreats his followers."
As her words fell, her figure completely vanished, leaving only a faint chill.
Eric stood in place, the pallor in his eyeballs gradually fading, his pupils re-forming. He blinked, as if just waking from a dream, but a cold power had already taken root deep in his consciousness.
-----------------------
Completed English PDF of this fan-fic on my Patreon shop if you want to support and own the full fan-fic in one go. Just grab the PDF and binge the entire story from start to finish!
Guys, I've uploaded some High Quality english translated fanfic on my Patreon shop! Feel free to check it out-if you're interested, you can grab a copy and support me there.
patreon.com/SuperTL
Here are a few titles of recently uploaded fanfics:
" Marvel Rise of the Spider-Verse "
" Marvel: The Multiverse Wanderer "
" Marvel: Wrath of the Dark Superman "
"Marvel's Power Fusion "
" Marvel's Divine Game Producer "
" Marvel: System of the Cosmic Devourer "
" Marvel: Hyperion Journey "
"Marvel of the Genesis Transformation"
many more are available
Your support means a lot-thanks in advance, legends!
patreon.com/SuperTL
(End of Chapter)