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After walking out of the conference room with his negotiation team and heading straight to the SHIELD transport plane already running on the plaza, the aircraft immediately lifted off vertically.
Alexander Pierce rapidly briefed everyone on what had happened, then immediately issued the emergency evacuation order.
The coalition forces' generals—shocked but moving fast—immediately ordered their soldiers to pull back.
The orders from SHIELD and the coalition forces' retreat commands were transmitted at maximum speed to every agent and soldier currently stationed in the Wakanda region via their personal communicators.
The SHIELD agents, upon receiving their orders, seemed a bit confused about what was happening. But that didn't stop them from turning around and getting the hell out.
The soldiers, on the other hand, executed the retreat order without a word.
They were soldiers. Following orders was their instinct.
Soon enough—
The SHIELD agents and soldiers who had been facing off against Wakandan forces across the river suddenly turned and began retreating. The move immediately caught the attention of the Wakandan soldiers.
At first, they were suspicious.
But, as more and more soldiers turned and retreated at double-time speed, pulling out of Wakanda entirely, confusion and bewilderment spread across the Wakandan ranks.
Just then, one clever Wakandan soldier seemed to realize something.
He watched the soldiers and agents retreating, his eyes lighting up. A voice tinged with excitement escaped him almost involuntarily.
"THEY'RE RETREATING! WE DID IT!"
"What? We won?"
"The Security Council surrendered?"
"WE WON!"
"WAKANDA!"
"FOREVER!!"
In a chaotic chorus of shouts, the Wakandan front-line forces stationed across the river from the coalition suddenly erupted into joyous celebration.
And when the cheering from the river line spread backward, the Wakandan soldiers further back were initially confused. But once they heard what everyone was celebrating, after a moment of stunned silence, they joined the crowd in wild revelry.
When the cheering from outside the capital city carried on the wind into Wakanda's capital itself, the Wakandans from various tribes inside the city also began hooting and hollering like apes.
"We won!"
"Praise the Panther God!"
"We drove off those thieves who coveted what was ours!"
"This is amazing! We're victorious!"
"Wakanda Forever!"
As one Wakandan roared, followed by the others joining in, within just a few breaths, the entire Wakandan capital had devolved into a roaring carnival.
Chants of "Wakanda Forever" echoed throughout the capital.
The River Tribe—dressed in green garments decorated with shells and scales—was so excited they started dancing on the spot.
They had suffered the worst losses in this catastrophe.
Their warriors had been slaughtered like livestock by Demon Hulk when they'd tried to stop him from reaching the capital. Afterward, they'd taken even more devastating losses when the coalition forces pushed in.
And now—
Hearing such wonderful news, how could they not be thrilled?
Their tribal chief had already told them about the new king's negotiation terms with the coalition forces.
Vibranium could be traded with the coalition.
But the culprit—the human named Hawk who had exposed Wakanda to the world—had to be handed over for Wakanda to judge.
The new king had promised them he would get Hawk's head and use it to honor the fallen old king and all the tribesmen who had died in this disaster.
Now the coalition forces had withdrawn. That meant the negotiations between the coalition and their new king had concluded.
So—
It wouldn't be long before that damned culprit would be delivered to Wakanda. They'd use his blood to honor their fallen people.
The River Tribe's people wept tears of joy.
The Mining Tribe was equally emotional.
They had mined Vibranium for generations and had long since come to see it as their lifeblood. So when the coalition forces had started extracting Vibranium, they'd split into small groups and continuously launched nighttime raids, causing heavy coalition casualties in the early stages.
But they'd also lost many of their own. Especially after SHIELD agents entered the field—the racial advantage they'd prided themselves on for nighttime operations had proven utterly useless.
After all—
SHIELD agents had cutting-edge thermal imaging night-vision goggles. The lead male agent with the bow and the female agent with the throwing knives had hunted them so effectively they'd been too terrified to leave their homes at night.
The other tribes were equally excited.
In just an instant, the entire Wakandan capital had plunged into an ocean of celebration.
Soon enough—
The celebration in the capital reached the palace itself.
The new king T'Challa and the tribal chiefs—still seated in the conference room, confused about why today's negotiations had ended before they'd even truly begun—heard the news that the coalition forces and SHIELD agents had now withdrawn from Wakanda and retreated to Hell Gate. They exchanged bewildered glances.
The common people, who didn't know any better, thought their negotiations had succeeded.
But only they knew the truth: they hadn't negotiated anything yet.
So the question was—
If the negotiations hadn't concluded, why had the coalition forces and SHIELD suddenly withdrawn from Wakanda?
"Could it be they realized we weren't backing down and decided to cut their losses?"
"Right! Maybe they're afraid of us? Shocked by the unity we've shown, so they retreated?"
"Our Vibranium weapons are the best in the world."
"Exactly."
"They must be scared."
"Yes!"
"Wakanda Forever!"
The chiefs from the major tribes whispered among themselves. What started as speculation quickly turned to certainty, then excitement, then celebration—all in less than ten seconds.
In an instant, the entire conference room transformed into another carnival.
Only the young king—who had been sent to study in London by the old king in his youth, who had now consumed the Heart-Shaped Herb and donned the Black Panther suit—sat silently on his throne, watching the chiefs who had descended into party mode within ten seconds.
People's joys and sorrows are not the same.
The chiefs thought this was wonderful.
But T'Challa didn't. In fact, he found them a bit noisy.
Just then—
The captain of the Dora Milaje—holding a Vibranium spear, wearing Vibranium rings around her neck that made her look like a giraffe—rushed in from outside. Ignoring the celebrating chiefs, she walked straight to King T'Challa's side and said in a low voice, "The New York operation failed."
T'Challa's head snapped up instantly, his eyes locking on the guard captain.
The next second—
T'Challa took a deep breath, shot up from his throne, and—along with the guard captain—swept past the still-celebrating chiefs. He headed straight for the palace war room.
The palace war room was also bustling with activity.
Projected into the air were multiple monitor feeds showing the coalition forces retreating from Wakanda at double-time speed.
Just as T'Challa entered the command center with his guard captain, the screens began beeping frantically.
"Detecting extremely powerful energy signature approaching rapidly."
"Running match."
"Results incoming. Hawk... data updating!"
"Hawk Phoenix. New York resident. Last energy signature detected... Wakanda."
"Energy signature location acquired."
"Display it!"
With the all-female Wakandan tech team working at full capacity, the SHIELD satellite Wakanda had secretly launched into orbit quickly pinpointed Hawk's current location.
But—
When the visual came up, the previously bustling Wakandans fell into stunned silence.
The moment T'Challa saw the image, he immediately spun around, left the war room behind him, and walked outside.
Then he looked up.
And saw—
Ten thousand meters above, Hawk hovered in the sky. His posture was relaxed, his expression blank.
Black Panther T'Challa stared up at Hawk, his teeth grinding together. A single word tore from his throat—a voice filled with the desire to tear Hawk's flesh and drink his blood.
"HAWK!!"
"..."
...
Ten thousand meters above, Hawk—who was waiting for the last batch of coalition soldiers to clear the safe distance—seemed to sense something. He followed the gaze directed at him and looked down.
His eyes landed on a figure standing on the palace's stone platform, staring up at him.
"Huh."
"This guy's got a hell of a glare."
"Did I kill his dad or destroy his country or something?"
"Whatever."
"Doesn't matter."
Hawk's thoughts wandered briefly as he glanced at the hate-filled stare from the stranger below, then looked away.
He didn't give this nobody a second thought.
After all, plenty of people hated him.
Compared to Mephisto—who currently ranked pretty high on the "people who hate Hawk" list—this random stranger didn't even register.
Most importantly—
Time was up.
Hawk glanced down at the coalition forces, who were still just shy of reaching a safe distance. He wasn't about to give them extra time.
After all, thirty minutes was thirty minutes.
The next second, The Phoenix constellation's projection appeared behind him. The Phoenix Cloth—golden on the surface but essentially just a bronze-tier knockoff—manifested in roaring flames.
Sure, he had the Black Phoenix Surplice now.
But...
What kind of standards did Wakanda have to compare themselves to Mephisto? Did they really deserve the Black Phoenix Surplice?
This was Wakanda's funeral.
The knockoff Phoenix Cloth was more than enough.
At that exact moment—
On the ground, Black Panther T'Challa—who had just been dismissed with a single cold glance before Hawk looked away entirely—felt his rage reach a boiling point.
T'Challa saw the Phoenix Cloth materialize ten thousand meters above. His mind raced. He thought about the coalition forces retreating at breakneck speed. A realization—the most impossible possibility—flashed through his mind. His expression changed instantly, and he bolted back into the command center behind him.
His voice cracked with panic.
"RAISE THE VIBRANIUM SHIELD! NOTIFY ALL TRIBESMEN TO RETURN TO THE CITY IMMEDIATELY!"
"Now!"
"..."
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