Chapter 11 Wakanda shit is this!

I block a punch, the air wavering from the impact of two superheated objects striking each other with tremendous force, before I grab the offending appendage, reeling my assailant in and delivering a picture-perfect Spartan kick to his chest, feeling something snap underneath my boot as I sent him flying straight through a couple of trees, before he slams into the trunk of one big enough it would take three of me to circle it.

Standing up from the charred and broken imprint he has made in the old tree, Erik Killmonger straightens with a savage grin on his face, his ribs already healed, his eyes burning with a bright orange light.

We are deep in the jungles of the heart of Africa, having begun travelling immediately after Erik recovered enough from his Extremis-transformation, taking Klaue with us as he is the only one who knows the way.

Sterns has already left a week before we set off, with the Vibranium and our lab equipment stashed inside the truck, travelling like we currently were to the heart of Africa, agreeing to wait for my return in a small town near where I think the borders lie of Wakanda.

It was difficult for me to trust him with the Vibranium, simply standing by as he drove off with billions worth of metal in the back of the truck, but I had no choice, since both he and the Vibranium were no longer safe this close to Johannesburg. The amount of attention I've drawn was once more made clear to me when, before we left, I liquidized as much of Klaue's assets as I could, and within an hour of having made my search for a buyer know, there had been a small army of thugs and spooks on my doorstep, their quick response time only possible if they had been close from the start.

By making sure to stay behind, giving Sterns a head start, I tried to keep all attention on me, which was rather easy to do, considering the kind of deals I was willing to make as long as it transferred all of Klaue's hardware in usable money.

Klaue nearly went mad with rage at me selling his stock that cheap (or at all, for that matter, but doing it this way also targeted his professional pride), but between two super powered people capable of cutting off his limbs with their bare, superheated hands, he held his tongue.

Though he has been steadily cursing me out under his breath every step of the way ever since we left Johannesburg behind us.

"Would you quit that! It's bad enough having you two throw down every chance we get, but we're getting close and I, personally, prefer not to alert the entirety of Wakanda to our approach, by setting their entire fucking jungle on fire!" Klaue yells out, having apparently had his fill with the impromptu spars me and Erik have been having all along the way.

My new brain allows me to learn anything at a terrifying speed which means I'm literally getting better during every fight, while Erik is just happy to test his newfound strength against a worthy opponent (though he's pissed off I'm still stronger by a wide margin, and the fact that he can't reach the same temperatures as me) so its profitable for the both of us.

Though I suspect that Killmonger is also taking this as a chance for revenge as he holds me responsible for the disappearance of all his hard-earned scars.

While I concede to Klaue's warning, as I drop out of my guard and turn away from Erik, I don't let his outburst go by completely unpunished as I walk up to him until I'm chest to face with him, the arms dealer craning his neck to look into my burning eyes.

"Perhaps if you're so scared of discovery, then the next time you have some advice, you give it while keeping your voice down. Understood?"

I keep my glowing eyes on him until he reluctantly looks away, no longer able to meet my gaze.

"Understood."

And with that, we move on in silence, exchanging the scenery of luscious green jungle for, you guessed it, even more luscious green jungle.

I have no idea where Klaue is leading us, and over the next few days of trudging through stifling green, trying not to trip over what feels like every single root tree in the fucking galaxy I begin to suspect that he's tricking us, despite the very graphic threats I delivered when I warned him about doing so (many a white-glowing appendage had been waved around).

I'm proven wrong however, when after what feels like months, stuck inside that godforsaken jungle, out of nowhere Klaue, who is walking in front, nearly guts himself on the spear that is held in front of him.

As he slowly steps back towards us, our little group draws closer, and as I look around I can see several women approach us through the underbrush, most of them moving with enough grace they don't disturb a leaf, and all of them are utterly silent,

I don't know how long they've known we were in their backyard, but given the fact that they have chosen to reveal themselves now makes me believe that we are close to Wakanda itself.

Getting discovered sucked, as I'd much rather sneak in and out of the kingdom undetected, but with how little I knew about it and its defences I hadn't been counting on it.

This would work for my plan just the same.

The woman who nearly allowed Klaue to walk straight into her spear barks out what seems to be a question, to which Killmonger steps up and replies in a clear voice, showing no fear at being surrounded by the warrior-women.

While I can't speak Wakandan (yet) Erik has been teaching me the bare basics of the language, so I can sort of get the gist of the conversation.

It basically boils down to the women wondering what kind of suicidal idiots we are to wonder so close to their territory, while Erik is trying to convince them to let us past, as we are friends to the Wakandan people.

There falls a silence in their conversation when I hear Killmonger say the word that I think translates to 'gift'.

The leader of the squad raises an eyebrow in scepticism, but at least she drops out of her combat stance, letting the butt of her spear rest on the jungle floor as her eyes track Killmonger up and down.

"What gift?" she asks in heavily accented English, and without preamble, Erik jerks his head in Klaue's direction.

"Him."

"What?! You son of a bitch! What the hell do you think you're playing at! I'm going to-"

Klaue is stopped mid-rant by suddenly finding a Vibranium spear tip resting on his Adam's apple.

"You are going to be silent."

Despite the soft tone, the woman's words cannot be mistaken for anything else than an order, and Klaue, with a spear at his throat, simply nods (very carefully as to not cut himself).

Turning her head to look at Killmonger again (though she doesn't remove her spear from Ulysses' neck), the woman seems somewhat intrigued.

"You offer us this man? Why? What worth is he to Wakanda, that you think giving him to us is sufficient payment to allow you safe passage?"

"Because, that's Ulysses Klaue."

It's clear that said arms dealer wants to spit in rage, but he's held back when the woman presses her spear just that little bit closer, drawing a drop of blood as interest now becomes clear in her eyes.

"Is he now?"

As hushed whispers go around the group that has ambushed us, it quickly becomes apparent that Ulysses is somewhat of a celebrity amongst the Wakandan people, though probably not in a very positive manner.

Being one of the very few people who managed to steal from Wakanda and live, as well as evading capture for more than three decades will do that for you.

After an intense discussion with what appears to be her second-in-command, the leader of the group turns back to us, her chin held high as she gives her next order.

"The King shall decide the validity of your gift, and whether or not this man is who you claim him to be. You shall follow us."

The Golden City of Wakanda is both impressive and odd.

Probably because of how organic everything appears. Everywhere you look, there's green, and the massive buildings that are towering amongst it all have an almost natural look to it.

Whereas cities like New-York are sometimes described as concrete jungles, this city is in harmony with the jungle instead.

It's difficult to remember we're still on Earth, instead of walking amongst the works of some alien civilization.

Still, as pretty as the Golden City is, I barely have eyes for it.

Instead, all of my attention is focused on the looming Royal Palace, and the technology that is squirreled away in there.

The Panther Habit.

While various members of the group that's escorting us are switched out several times by what appear to be different tribes at different locations within Wakanda, the woman who captured us remains leading us in the front, and is probably responsible for allowing us to be led into the heart of the city so swiftly, armed guards bowing out of her way.

And then we're finally there, walking through the grand entrance of the Royal Palace, armed guards lining the walls, Klaue and the woman in front of me, Erik next to me, and another guard squad behind me.

And at the end of the hall, sitting on his throne, is T'Chaka with T'Challa standing next to him with his arms behind his back, regarding us coolly.

Which contrasts with his father, who's eyes narrow dangerously when he recognizes Klaue.

The arms dealer himself merely lets out a cheeky grin at being confronted by the king of an isolationist country from who he stole literal billions worth of unique metal.

Whatever else he is, Gollum ain't a coward.

As our procession comes to a halt in front of the throne, T'Chaka raises to his full length, as the woman who has captured us kneels in front of him, rapidly recounting in Xhosa how she captured us, and decided to bring Klaue to him as she couldn't verify whether Erik was telling the truth, but if he was, then it was T'Chaka's right as King to pass judgement on the man.

After the women has finished recounting her tale, the King of Wakanda gives a grateful nod, before fixing Ulysses with a stern gaze, though it doesn't seem to have any effect on the weapons dealer.

With slow steps, T'Chaka approaches us, clasping his hands behind his back as he tries to stare the Belgian criminal down.

"Letting you escape is a mistake that has haunted my reign for these last 30 years. It is good to see that this mistake shall finally be corrected, and judgement passed on you, thief."

Klaue grins at the King's speech, his entire air on of nonchalance.

"I'd say nice to see you too, but well… mother did raise me not to lie, so I won't."

I see anger flash across T'Challa's face at the disrespect his father is shown, but T'Chaka is made of sterner stuff, and doesn't even so much as twitch, instead looking at Erik, his gaze softening.

"Thank you, young one, for bringing this criminal to justice. Wakanda and its people owe a great debt to you and your… friend." The king trails off, looking at my massive form.

I'm not worried by the King's scrutiny however as there's something far more attention grabbing going on next to me.

The temperature in the hall is sky-rocketing.

"You, owing me a debt? You don't even know how right you are, murderer."

The moment the word falls from his lips, the guards draw their weapons, while T'Challa snarls in fury, striding towards us with clenched fists and anger in his eyes.

"How dare you?! You have no right addressing my father that way!"

"I HAVE THE ONLY RIGHT!"

And heat explodes from the literally fuming Killmonger, whose sheer rage stops T'Challa and the other guards in their tracks.

"I gained that right, when one night, I find my father, in our house, gutted like an animal! And all that I had to go on, were the claw marks in his body and his notebook talking about Wakanda!"

He reaches around his neck, ripping off the necklace that had been hanging there, showcasing the enormous ring dangling on the end of it, before throwing it at T'Chaka's feet.

"That gives me the right!"

While the other guards and T'Challa look merely confused at the Royal Ring this stranger has just revealed, T'Chaka looks like he's just seen a ghost.

In a way, he has.

"You…" he whispers in a shocked voice, backing away a few stumbling steps as if he can't believe his eyes.

"Say my name, old man. Tell them who I am, murderer. TELL THEM MY NAME!"

In the silence that follows his echoing roar, T'Chaka's wavering reply is heard by all.

"N'Jadaka, son of N'Jobu…"

That last name clearly rings a bell with the older generation present, but T'Challa and the younger ones still look confused until their King turns to his son with a mournful expression on his face.

"… your cousin."

While T'Challa seems floored by the revelation, T'Chaka turns back towards Killmonger, who is giving off more and more heat the longer he's staring at the man who killed his father.

"My boy… why have you returned? Why now?"

"I've come to kill the Black Panther. To kill you."

Before he has even fully finished speaking, T'Challa is upon him with an animalistic snarl, kicking Killmonger in the chest with both feet, sending him sliding across the marble floor, though he turns his fall into a springing handstand, landing on his feet again.

"You will not so much as touch him!" T'Challa snarls, as he and his cousin both straighten, eyes fixed on each other with murderous intent.

"I understand your pain, child-"

"You understand NOTHING! You murdered my father!" Killmonger screams at him, his eyes glowing with the Extremis running hot through his veins.

"And in doing so, I killed my own brother, forever staining my hands with the greatest sin imaginable. I lost family too that day. But I am no longer the Black Panther. I now merely rule as King of Wakanda, while my son, T'Challa, has instead taken the mantle of the defender of our people."

As he says this, he places a hand against T'Challa's chest, forcing him backwards as he tries to reason with his murderous nephew.

"My son had nothing to do with your father's death. He has never wronged you; how could he, when he did not even know you exist? Leave him out of our feud, N'Jadaka. He is the protector of our people, and despite what happened between my brother and I, you are still one of ours."

Briefly, Erik seems to take the words of his uncle into consideration, before the hate I've fuelled in his heart with my words and with Extremis cause his rage to come back, and the air starts to shimmer around his body, smoke beginning to rise from his smouldering clothing.

"I'll never be one of yours. You will pay for what you did do my dad. I'm going to kill you."

Again the death threat seems to spur the guards into action, T'Challa even bearing his teeth, but T'Chaka silences all movement in the hall by raising a hand.

Briefly, he closes his eyes, before fixing Erik with a heavy, tired gaze.

"If you kill me, then will your quest for vengeance be completed? Will you leave this land and its people be in peace?"

"Father, you can't! We-"

"AM I NOT STILL KING!?"

At T'Chaka's roar, all protests abruptly halt, silencing the hall once more, before he turns back to Killmonger, who despite his rage, apparently still recognizes the power in the older man's eyes.

"Do I have your word on this? My life, in exchange for your peaceful departure from these lands?"

There's no hesitation in Killmonger's answer.

"Deal."

And with that, he unsheathes his short sword with a metallic ringing noise.

As T'Chaka makes to approach his nephew and executioner, T'Challa stops him in his tracks, whirling his father around to face him, rapidly talking to him in heated Xhosa, but due to its great speed, I only understand the basic gist of it.

"Father, what are you doing?! Your life is worth more than a bargaining chip! The Dora Milaje will escort him out of our borders and then-"

"And then in the next year, or the next five years, or the next ten years? He'll come back, and this time not with a bound criminal as a gift, but with an army at his back, and it'll mean war for Wakanda. I know his kind, he's not one to give up, because we wouldn't either. I cannot defend my people as the Black Panther anymore, but at least as King, in this way I can spare them from the suffering of war."

"Then we kill him and be done with it!"

"My son. Twenty years ago, I killed one of my own kin and that moment has haunted me every day and night since then. Do not be so quick to repeat my mistakes. After today, there shall be no more kinslaying amongst the Golden Tribe."

It's clear that T'Challa wants to rage against his father's plan, but the aged king places a hand on the young man's shoulder, a sad smile on his face.

"I understand your fear and your sadness. I had wished for you to remain free from Kingship for a while, allow you to simply remain the Black Panther while I took care of politics for you. You've always hated them." The king says with a chuckle before continuing.

"But it seems it now cannot be. Our paths diverge from this moment, and no longer shall you be able to simply remain the defender of the Wakandan people, but be their King as well. And yes, that involves politics as well. You shall decide the course of our nation, and there is no doubt in my mind that you shall lead them well. But, you shall do so, without me."

Leaving his son nearly in tears, T'Chaka turns towards the waiting Killmonger, approaching his nephew with calm, measured steps, his entire posture one of unwavering confidence.

This is a man who looks death in the face, squares his shoulders and says 'bring it.'

As he stands in front of the now pacing Killmonger, T'Chaka straightens his jacket for a final time, before lifting his chin, looking Erik straight in the eyes.

"I am ready."

Killmonger lets out a savage grin, the veins around his eyes lighting up with a hellish glow.

"This one is for my dad."

"Yes, indeed it is."

And without further ceremony, Killmonger draws back his sword with both hands, T'Chaka closing his eyes, his expression one of peace while Killmonger's is one of hatred, the blade of the soldier's sword slicing through the air, whistling as it comes around in a graceful curve, inching towards the King's neck-

CLANG!

-only to be halted in its tracks at the very last moment, sparks flying where a spear is holding the blade at bay, mere inches from T'Chaka's neck, whose eyes fly open in shock.

Standing there next to him, muscles bulging under his ceremonial shirt, the current Black Panther strains against Killmonger's sword-strike.

"You said it yourself father; I am the protector of all Wakandan people. That includes you."

And with that, T'Challa kicks his father in the chest with his heel, sending the man sliding back, Killmonger's heated hand closing into an empty fist where his head had been a mere second ago.

Roaring in rage at his denied kill, Killmonger starts hacking away at T'Challa, who uses the larger reach of his spear to desperately ward off his cousin's attacks, before in a spinning move he slaps Killmonger's blade to the side and out of his hand and ramming the tip of his spear in the opening he has created, the Vibranium weapon easily punching straight through Erik's abdomen, emerging through his back.

"I am T'Challa! Son of T'Chaka! Heir to the Throne of the Golden City and the current Black Panther, defender of the Wakandan people! As long as I draw breath, you shall neverharm a single one of them!" T'Challa roars at his slumped over adversary, keeping him upright with the weapon he has impaled him with.

There's a lull of silence after the Black Panther's challenge echoes throughout the hall, before it's broken by a soft chuckling. The chuckling keeps increasing until it's full-blown laughter, coming from the shaking, bent over form of Killmonger, which clearly freaks T'Challa out.

Glancing up, Erik lets out a vicious grin, glowing blood staining his teeth.

"Fine by me."

And in a flash, he straightens and kicks T'Challa in the chest. The prince goes flying and hits the ground hard, while Killmonger rips the spear out of his belly, flips it in his hand, and hurls it at the Black Panther. As T'Challa throws himself to the side, the spear pierces the thick marble slabs of the Palace floor and shudders with the impact, while both cousins gaze in each other's eyes, fury and wariness present in equal measure.

Then both let out a roar of defiance and the battle has begun.