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X-Men: Feral Progeny (Marvel AU/What If?)

The Wolverine is dead. One of Earth’s mightiest and most feral Heroes, dead….. The Avengers mourned his death. The Four sought out the reasoning behind it. The Mutants of The Xavier Institute thirsted for revenge. But that didn’t last long. He faded. Not even the city of Heroes— New York, felt the pang of his loss for long. Then again, New York is a busy place. Hell, it’s not called the concrete jungle for nothing. And a jungle it is, fit with a powerful predator hunting in the shadows. A predator stemming from Wolverines very early origins— an orchestrator of his entire existence….. or so they say. And this predator isn’t on just any hunt. He’s on the hunt for a successor. A successor that he believes can be found in the brood of Weapon X. A fact that couldn’t be more right after word spreads of a boy with omega-level abilities and a feral rage that can only be relative to the feral x-man, Wolverine…….. Extra Tags: Gore, Power-Fantasy, training, thriller, team-building….

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129 Chs

Chapter 42: Unknown waters…

Wakanda was at war….. with water people that could rise the ocean hundreds of feet for the hell of it. And this is where Bronte led his brothers and sisters for a true shot at revenge. And life.

So be it. He'd like to think they'd been in worse but it didn't look that way. The people of Wakanda were advanced in every way possible it seemed. And the ocean people— the people of Talocan, still got a collective panicked shrill out of them with what could only be described as intimidation tactics.

And it would lead up to a ceremony happening in less than a day that would decide who would be the second Black Panther on a throne once held by one. Wakanda was expanding seemingly right in front of their eyes.

And Bronte couldn't give less of a damn. This didn't feel like his families journey. It felt like they'd been pulled into someone else's. It felt like their shared life's goals now held the potential to be shoved to the wayside over a resource war. Or worse…

"Bronte….. your silence is deafening." Ororo said to Bronte as he sat on the railing of the courtyard.

"Ma was right…." He said aloud.

His siblings watched him while Ororo and T'Challa waited for him to explain.

In the dark of the oncoming night, Ororo's eyes and hair glowed like storm clouds. T'Challa's jewels worked in tandem with the effect, hovering around her as stars. It would've been distracting if not for the current situation.

"You plan to use our enemy to bring out yours….. that's what this is right?"

Azari didn't look phased in the slightest. He stood beside his father like a downsized clone. It reminded him of Laura and Gabbie.

Ororo nodded, "Yes."

Brontë nodded in return, "Word…. Word. I can work with that."

Gabbie, Raze and Azari looked surprised if only for a second. They were more naive— younger. It made sense.

Brontë held up a hand, "But. No more slimy shit. Respectfully. I get it. It's business. Ya'll want to smoke two opps with one bullet…. Kill two birds with one stone. That's fine. A place like this….." He turned as he sat on the railing and gave way to the beautiful nation below. "A place doesn't get like this being morally sound. But if that's how you want to move, we're in. All of it."

The courtyard was silent.

Ororo and T'Challa looked saddened as they looked at each-other.

"You've all been through a lot despite your age. I see it in you. You're looking at things as my father once did. Back when Wakanda was more separated and everything was to be taken advantage of. I understand. But it is making you misunderstand, Bronte." T'Challa explained.

"How so?"

"I didn't bring you here to use you, Bronte. You or your brothers and sisters. I would never. But these aren't your lands. This isn't your home, even if it very well can be. Strategically, the plan to do so is smart. But it was not our plan. We didn't plan to tell you the details about our war because just that. It's our war, Bronte. Not yours. You are here to be given the freedom you all deserve. You don't need to fight any more wars to gain that." Ororo explained.

"What a Queen…" Gabbie whispered to Raze beside Bronte.

"She looks like an acid trip. Brontë must've got the short end of the stick on genetics…." Raze whispered back.

Brontë looked away from Ororo and T'Challa for a moment.

"I don't think I like that. Yea, I'm good on that."

The royal pairing looked confused.

"You're right. This isn't my land but I'm not about to die in it because of a lack of info. You said it yourself, it's smart to join the two enemies."

Ororo and T'Challa nodded hesitantly.

Brontë looked over at his siblings.

"What's it looking like?" He asked.

"It's looking like I'm ready to learn how to swim, Brontosaur HAHA!" Raze replied as the others nodded in agreement.

"We can run this plan. All I'm saying is, if we're in. We're in. We get the details just like everyone else involved." Bronte explained.

T'Challa itched his squared chin in thought.

"They're honorary guests….. he is a prince." Ororo said to T'Challa.

"You are right. But it won't be so easy. He'll have to appear before the other Tribes. They won't like us making such sizable decisions in that way. We've worked so hard to regain a sense of unity. I wouldn't enjoy ruining it once more." T'Challa explained.

"Other Tribes?" Bronte questioned, "I thought you were the King and Queen?"

"We are. But we are backed by the various Tribes that make up the whole of Wakanda. Splitting them results in slowed progress…. Problematic production issues….legal problems… war." T'Challa explained.

"But." Ororo cut in, "That's something to address at another time. You want in on the table we can do that. We'll remove them both. Whether that's through combat or politics it doesn't matter."

"Romulus isn't the political type." Daken cut in.

"I'll take your word for it." Ororo said. "After tomorrow's Ceremony of the Second, we can begin working. For now you should all get some rest. Brontë I was hoping you could accompany me there."

Brontë hopped off the railing and let his dreaded braids fall down around him, "Sure."

"Anyone else feeling alive? That dinner was something different!" Raze said before belching loudly into the night.

***

Brontë went to sleep effortlessly. Despite the new area and experiences. It was a long day. Physical fatigue rarely grabbed at him, but mental. Mental fatigue was a different story. A story he fell into the pages of quickly.

Dreams welcomed him. Not nightmares. Not the same nightmare of the monster in the storm.

He was in a jungle. A beautifully lush jungle at that. Flowers, pink and blue and red, filled the area like stars. Like jewelry. Rivers snaked through trees and around caves, splashing at corners and down waterfalls. The winds blew spreading smells of earth and the clouds. He didn't even know clouds had a smell.

As he walked, eyes followed him. Spotted pelts glimmered under the starlight.

He'd never seen Jaguars and Leopards so massive. Bigger than lions. Some were built as man, walking on two legs. Wearing glimmering armor and varying weaponry.

Their eyes felt so intelligent it made his spine tingle.

But it was all a prelude. A prelude to the creature that stepped through the bushes and approached him.

A panther the size of a house with fangs like swords. It's fur was made of the jungle leaves and sticks. It's eyes were the moons reflective pale glow. At least that's what he thought it was. When he lost focus it just looked like fur and muscle.

It was ever changing. Many concepts and designs held by his own mind.

"What the hell…?"

"Who the hell is what you mean, boy…" The Panther replied in a deep monotone voice.

"What is this?"

"You eat the herbs that allow you to transcend plains. The magic in your blood is strong. It didn't take much to bring you here….. but your blood. It is not mine." The Panther stalked around him.

Brontë was suddenly reminded of when he ate the Wendigo. The magic in the cursed flesh allowed him to meet a god prematurely. It seemed the same was happening once again.

"Bast…." Bronte guessed.

"You're familiar with me."

"Yea."

"You do not belong here….. son of the storm." Bast commented.

"Then let me leave." Bronte replied.

"No. You do not belong in my lands. In the physical world. My territory." Bast snarled.

Bronte's fear turned into anger. More roadblocks.

"I'm here to get even. I can't leave until that happens." Bronte growled back in reply as his hair began to light up the darkness.

"Revenge…. It dirties a warriors mind…." Bast looked up at some of the humanoid Panthers. Brontë blinked and suddenly some were missing arms. Bleeding from stumps where their heads should've been. Screaming from a face with no eyes or tongues.

"I've been in the mud all the same." Bronte looked away from the horrific visages.

Bast backed away. Hunkering down in the bushes inside the jungle like a cat ready to pounce.

Brontë began to pace. Rain started to fall.

"Do you think I can't remove you myself?"

Brontë growled and activated his Storm State.

"Not without a fight." He popped his claws.

"You're unworthy…."

"I don't give a fuck."

A blast of lightning shook the jungle as they charged eachother….

Yo! Lil dialogue and meet up with another godly figure. Lmk what ya think and thanks for reading! Also If you didn’t get it, the dinner they all ate had pieces of a heart shaped herb in it. Not enough to make a black panther on accident but enough to have beneficial medicinal properties. They’ve done it in the comics more so than the movies.

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