Unless one saw it with their own eyes, it was impossible to imagine the existence of Wakanda. Hidden in the most remote reaches of East Africa, shielded by towering peaks and impenetrable rainforests, lay a civilization that had leaped a century ahead of the world while clinging to the heart of its ancient tribal soul.
It was a paradox of chrome and clay—a wild, mysterious kingdom where the most advanced technologies in human history were woven into the fabric of primal traditions.
"Fine, I lose. Pay up." Tony Stark sighed, pulling a ten-dollar bill from his pocket and slapping it into Steve Rogers' hand. "I have to admit, Jarvis isn't omnipotent. We definitely need a hardware upgrade."
Moments ago, they had been betting on whether the "secret kingdom" was actually a technological powerhouse or just another overblown myth. But as the Wakandan vessel docked—a craft whose stealth systems were so sophisticated they had vanished from the Helicarrier's sensors at mid-range—even Tony was forced to concede.
King T'Chaka emerged from the hangar bay, led by Agent Coulson. He was flanked by the Dora Milaje—bald, formidable women adorned in gold-and-vibranium armor, their hands gripping ceremonial spears that hummed with a subtle, kinetic energy.
As he walked, T'Chaka discreetly scanned the Helicarrier's bridge. He was relieved to see that while S.H.I.E.L.D. possessed impressive engineering, it was still decades behind the cutting edge of Wakandan science. He felt confident. He had come here with one goal: to ensure the world never learned the truth about his people or their Vibranium.
If necessary, the elderly King's eyes flashed with a cold, regicidal glint. He wouldn't hesitate to bring this flying fortress down to protect the secret of the tribes.
"Welcome, King T'Chaka," a voice called out.
A young man stepped forward from the command console, a polite but predatory smile on his face. "I am Merlin Emrys. I apologize for the deception; I used Director Fury's name to ensure your attendance, but it is I who wished to meet you."
"Merlin Emrys?" T'Chaka looked confused, turning a sharp gaze toward Nick Fury.
"There's been a shift in management, King," Fury said, shrugging with a weary smirk. "Mr. Emrys is our primary benefactor now. Think of him as the man holding the stick."
"Your Majesty," Okoye, the General of the Dora Milaje, whispered into T'Chaka's ear, "our intelligence just confirmed it. Half an hour ago, the World Security Council branded S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers as international war criminals. They are outlaws."
T'Chaka's expression tightened, though he maintained his royal composure. He looked back at Emrys, feeling an instinctive discomfort under the young man's piercing, aggressive gaze. "I see. Let us dispense with the pleasantries, Emrys. You didn't lure me here to talk about politics. You want the Vibranium."
"Indeed. I trust you've seen the broadcasts from the Frost Giants?" Emrys asked, his tone shifting to one of cold reason. "Xenos have invaded our world. They intend to turn Earth into a graveyard of ice. We need Vibranium to forge the weapons and armor necessary to stop them. As a member of the human race, surely you won't stand by while our species is extinguished?"
T'Chaka knew the threat was real, but Wakanda had survived for centuries by letting the world burn outside its borders. They had a hidden sanctuary; they had the power to wait out any storm.
"You are right," T'Chaka said slowly. "As humans, we do not wish to see the world fall to monsters. But Vibranium is the lifeblood of my people. I do not have the authority to hand over our sacred resources to arm an army of outsiders."
Emrys's smile thinned.
"However," T'Chaka continued, offering a compromise, "in the spirit of common survival, I will offer the service of the Wakandan military. We will fight alongside you. But the Vibranium stays in Wakanda."
It was a calculated move. If he gave them the raw ore, S.H.I.E.L.D. would eventually reverse-engineer their technology and surpass them. He would not trade his kingdom's future for a temporary alliance.
"It sounds like you don't trust us, King," Emrys said, his voice becoming dangerously flat.
"It isn't about trust, Merlin," T'Chaka replied, his own voice turning to ice. "This is the absolute limit of my generosity. It is Wakanda's final word."
Emrys let out a long, disappointed sigh. "I knew this wouldn't be easy, but a flat refusal is so... tragic. It makes me truly sad."
Fury shifted uncomfortably, sensing the breakdown. For him, an army of Wakandans was a win. But Emrys didn't want an army he couldn't control. He wanted the tools to build his own.
Without warning, Emrys lunged. He delivered a brutal, lightning-fast kick directly to the King's chest.
BOOM.
T'Chaka was sent hurtling backward, slamming into the reinforced steel bulkhead with such force that the metal crumpled in a human-shaped crater.
The only reason the King survived was the Vibranium weave of his Panther Habit. Without it, the strike would have sent him to the Hall of Ancestors instantly.
"Your Majesty!" Okoye roared, her eyes blazing with fury. She spun her spear, the tip glowing with kinetic energy, and lunged at Emrys. "Vile outsider! I will have your head!"
Emrys didn't move. He didn't have to.
A massive, armored hand caught the spear mid-thrust. Olsen had appeared as if from thin air, his Space Marine reflexes making the Dora Milaje look like they were moving in slow motion. He wrenched the spear from Okoye's grasp, the sheer force of the movement nearly snapping her wrists.
Okoye gasped, the shock of meeting a physical force greater than her own leaving her momentarily paralyzed.
"High quality," Olsen muttered, testing the weight of the Vibranium spear. Then, in a blurred sequence of strikes taking less than three seconds, he systematically neutralized the remaining guards before they could even scream their war cries.
Emrys walked over to the crumpled King, looking down at him with an expression of cold indifference.
"We've moved to Plan B, T'Chaka. You had your chance at diplomacy. Now, we'll take what we need."
Emrys shook his head as he looked at the high-tech palace guard lying broken on the floor. "Sitting on a mountain of god-tier resources just to play tribal games... what a waste. You should be grateful it's me here and not the Mechanicus. They wouldn't have bothered to knock; they would have just glassed the rainforest and mined your corpses."
Tony Stark swallowed hard, stepping forward. "Emrys... are we sure about this? This feels a lot like a war crime."
"What's the problem, Tony?" Emrys turned to him, looking genuinely puzzled. "We are saving humanity. They chose to hoard the cure. That makes them traitors to the species. This isn't a robbery; it's a requisition for the survival of the world."
"Is it?" Tony asked, his voice shaking slightly.
Emrys draped an arm over Tony's shoulder, his face grave. "Don't overthink it. We aren't just taking their metal, Tony. We're giving their legacy a purpose. We're making sure there's a world left for them to inhabit."