ROYAL COMMAND CENTER – LATER
"I don't need an apology," Shuri said, pacing before the team. "I need assurance. You represent a world that treats Wakanda like a resource vending machine. Sending teenagers to manage diplomacy and war—how is that respect?"
Peter opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Then forced the words out. "Because we're the best chance you've got."
The room went still.
He looked around. His voice trembled—but held. "Stark didn't choose us because we're perfect. He chose us because we're willing to step up. Even when we're terrified. Even when we don't know if we're enough."
Laura stood silently behind him. David straightened beside him.
Peter's voice dropped. "I know what this looks like. But we're here to help. No ego. No tricks. Just… help."
Shuri studied him a moment longer.
Then gave a short nod. "Fine. One chance. But step wrong—Wakanda steps away."
---
ATLANTIC OUTPOST – NIGHT
The water was black glass under the stars.
The Quinjet hovered low above the sea, casting pale blue searchlights down into the abyss.
Shuri's tech had pinpointed the new Vibranium vein—but seismic distortions had scrambled the terrain. It was unstable.
Peter adjusted his mask. His voice crackled through comms. "Okay team—standard sweep pattern. We dive, map the fissure, scan for sabotage, and stay out of trouble."
Kamala winced. "You had to say that last part…"
Anna grinned. "Too late now."
They plunged.
A sudden shift—then silence.
Only the sound of breath regulators and the muted thrum of energy gear accompanied their descent.
Peter floated beside Miles, who was clearly awestruck. "Dude… this is so Atlantis-core."
David's voice buzzed in their ears. "Focus. No heat signatures yet. Watch for currents."
As they approached the glowing mineral deposits, vibrations shook the trench. Rocks cracked. A deep growl of shifting tectonic plates echoed from the abyss.
Then—
Shadows.
Moving.
A dozen sleek figures emerged from the gloom. Skin glowing with bioluminescent tattoos. Eyes shining with eerie calm.
Talokan scouts.
Weapons ready.
Peter raised his hands slowly. "We're not here to fight."
Tense silence.
The water around them buzzed with potential violence.
Then—
A small quake rocked the seabed.
Debris broke loose from an overhang—falling toward a young Talokan scout too slow to react.
Without hesitation, Laura surged forward. Her claws slashed through the rock, deflecting the boulder just enough. It hit the sand with a dull boom.
The Talokan child stared at her.
So did everyone else.
No words.
Just that one act.
One moment of connection.
The Talokan leader stepped forward—still cautious, but less hostile.
Peter watched. 'Maybe… maybe we can do this.'
Kamala whispered, "That kid okay?"
Laura nodded once.
Peter looked at the scouts. "We don't want war. Neither do you. Let's figure this out before someone forces a war on us."
The scouts didn't lower their weapons—but they didn't attack either.
A cold current swept through the trench.
A warning.
Something deeper was moving below.
---
ABOVE – IN THE QUINJET
Tony's face flickered on a private screen, pre-recorded.
"I know you're doubting yourself right now, Peter. I've been there. Hell, I'm still there."
His eyes narrowed.
"But remember—being a leader isn't about being perfect. It's about being willing. When the world tilts off its axis, you stand there and tilt it back. Not because you can. But because someone has to."
He smiled faintly.
"And kid? You've already started."
---
Back below, Peter hovered in the water, watching the Talokan scouts slowly retreat into the depths.
The mission wasn't over.
The mystery wasn't solved.
But something had shifted.
A beginning.
Peter's thoughts swirled. 'Still not sure I'm the right choice. But I'm here. And I won't run.'
The team regrouped, the flickering light of Vibranium glowing around them.
And somewhere far below—something watched.
Waiting.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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