Black Panther and Storm in Kings of the Earth Part II

Previously in The Black Panther and Storm:

For over ten thousand years warrior kings called Black Panthers ruled and protected the isolated and unconquerable African nation Wakanda. In their isolation Wakanda became the most scientifically advanced nation on Earth. T’Challa was the latest Black Panther, and he believed that his great nation was obligated to use its resources to help the less fortunate; defenseless peoples of the world against tyranny, corruption, and megalomaniac super humans.

Black Panther later married Ororo ‘Storm’ Munroe the extraordinary mutant heroine.

Story: Kings of the Earth Pt II

Chapter One

Burma, 1.35 a.m.

He watched intently as the four trucks entered the messy prison yard and came to a halt. In the trays were armed soldiers and frightened villagers. The villagers-men and teenage boys-were roughly pushed out the trucks’ trays. Then the prisoners were beaten with rifle butts and kicked to the ground by the soldiers.

He smiled. He could always count on the soldiers to feed him.

The prisoners were shoved towards the centre building. Inside they would be questioned for ties to the rebels, beaten and then thrown into small cells.

The creature known as the Soul Strangler had seen the routine many times from his perch over the main cell area. He was invisible to the naked human eye. It was not merely camouflage; it was the manner in which he fed on human fear.

The classification for his species was Metus Domini or Fear Lords. A subclass of the creatures erroneously called the ‘Elder Gods’. He had the appearance of an ancient warrior. His helmet had a yellow ceremonial plume.

At the time of the prisoners’ arrival, he was nursing a stomach wound inflicted by T’Challa.

“Curse that wretched mortal and his sword,” thought the Soul Strangler. “If I can only remove his sword then I’ll surely kill him in the next battle.”

As the mistreatment of the prisoners continued the creature’s wound began to gradually close.

He came to Burma by reflex even though there were thousands of different locations he could have chosen in light of the panic that ensued around the Earth.

One of his servants had detonated two nuclear warheads and taken prisoner eight powerful world leaders. There were twenty-four other nuclear warheads in the servant’s possession, which he intended detonate in two hours time.

Unbeknownst to the Soul Strangler was the tracker in his battle armour that was left by T’Challa. The creature’s dematerialised state meant that the device was not working, but if he returned to a solid form T’Challa’s sensors would lock onto him.

Baron Zorba’s Castle

Zorba emerged out of the Fifth Tower and he walked casually along the stretch of the wall that led to the Sixth Tower. He had the comfort of the shade created from the Central Round Tower blocking the sun.

Zorba was forty-five years old, with a low haircut and a sense of personal style. He was one of the few remaining absolute monarchs in Europe. Reporters and other national leaders found that he was eloquent and affable. Those qualities were merely smoke screens.

He was a chameleon. Half of his body was constituted of nano robots and he intended to perfect his understanding of cyborg technology. In doing so, he would annihilate most of the planet with the nuclear warheads.

His desire to bond human, computer and machine together started at age sixteen when his parents died. At the time he was already building robots and computer programmes. After he had seen the mutilated bodies of the parents he had sworn that he would never be as vulnerable as they were.

Then there was the uncaring aspect of his personality. He was an only child and his parents had spoiled him. He viewed humans as being objects at his disposal and under his control.

At nights he stole away from the castle and kidnapped residents of the border towns. He brought them back to the castle and experimented on them to test his theories. Afterwards he turned the victims into cyborg slaves.

These were the men that guarded the castle. Their faces were changed with nano robots hence they were unrecognisable to their loved ones.

Presently, Zorba checked his watch, and then he watched the courtyard. Several satellite antennas were near the east wall. They connected him to the twenty-four cyborgs scattered around the world and awaiting his order to detonate the warhead that each carried.

On the other side of the courtyard was a small shelter that contained the radio wave scrambler, which created a magnetic pulse around the castle. He had used the magnetic pulse to nullify the tracers that the eight world leaders were wearing at the time the Soul Strangler had brought them to the castle.

He finished surveying the courtyard and turned to retrace his steps to the Fifth Tower. Suddenly a heavy thunderclap echoed from the distant mountains. Then streaks of lightening shot from the dark clouds that were over the mountains. It was strange weather for that time of year.

Zorba thought little about it and continued into the castle. However he should have been concerned, because the weather was being affected by Ororo’s struggle to maintain her concentration. All over the world, Ororo’s manipulations were felt and in some parts it was becoming worst. But it was all in her effort to keep the radiation released from the two detonated nuclear warheads from spreading.

The Uncharted Plane of Existence and Dwelling Place of the ‘Elder Gods’,

“Let me through,” demanded Ashake.

The Elder Gods broke the cluster they were in for the woman with the blue eyes and white hair.

Then the creatures formed a ring around her and awaited the results of her search.

“I was unable to reach Oshtur,” Ashake confessed.

“Then the mortal’s fate is sealed,” stated one of the grotesque creatures.

Ashake was speechless for a moment. She didn’t want another of her descendants to die.

“Allow me time to speak with Ororo. I may persuade her to return to her human form,” said Ashake.

“It will not matter because the Gate Keeper already prepares to strike,” pointed out a creature.

“No,” muttered Ashake and she whispered a spell that teleported her from the gathering and into Ororo’s presence.

Chapter Two

‘The Elder Gods’ Plane of Existence’

The Gate Keeper was half-visible to Ororo. He was as large as a Celestial and a sword was in his right hand. All the while, Ororo pondered on what tactic she could employ to defend herself.

“I cannot die now. Too many people depend on me,” she thought.

It had been the longest she had ever stayed as an entity of energy and consciousness. She had reached the pinnacle of her mutant powers that allowed her to manipulate  any atmosphere from a small to a massive scale. Still her elevation came at a heavy price. She would lose her compassion for the lives of others.

Thus Ororo battled to remain grounded in her humanity and it added to the pressure as she faced the Gate Keeper.

She kept thinking about T’Challa and her love for him- it helped in her fight.

Suddenly she became aware of a tear in the fabric of time and space next to her. A small portal was appearing and soon Ashake emerged.

“It is me,” said the woman who was a mirror image of a human Ororo, except that her hair was slightly shorter than her descendant’s was.

“Ashake,” Ororo said instinctively.

“Yes.”

“I was told about your warning, but I must do this,” declared Ororo.

“Unfortunately I am here to dissuade you from pursuing your present course.”

“But I don’t understand. Why must I be destroyed for becoming like this?”

Ashake stood in front of Ororo.

“It was what Oshtur wanted to maintain a balance and order in these realms. Her decree doesn’t only fall on you, but anyone other human that reaches this level.”

Ororo’s curiosity was piqued. “Could Ashake or Oshtur be the Lady of the Light who I saw as a youth?” she pondered.

“Who is she?” Ororo asked.

Ashake glanced at the faceless Gate Keeper. In fact, its face seemed to be a void. Then the chosen woman returned her stare to Ororo.

“She was my teacher. I learnt about the universe from her and as her favourite pupil I was brought here before the decree was made,” replied Ashake. “I don’t know exactly what she is, but she leads the Elders as they are called.”

“Take me to her or bring her here. Let me argue my case,” said Ororo strongly.

“I can’t. She has gone on a journey. I have tried to reach her to plead your case, but to no avail. I used my position as her favourite to hold the hands to the Elders who would rather you are swiftly done away it.”

“I will not be done away with,” said Ororo angrily and her temper disturbed the elemental array that surrounded the beings.

Ashake seized her arm. “You cannot defeat it”. Her voice was stern. “It will use your own power against you.”

Then Ashake slowly released the arm. “Go back,” she said.

“I shan’t,” said Ororo vehemently. “Everything has a weakness.”

“But there is not enough time for us to figure that out,” chided Ashake.

Ororo caught herself. “I never expected that I would have to argue with you like this on our first meeting. I have heard a lot of good things about you.”

“And I have watched you from time to time,” said Ashake. “You have impressed me that is why I don’t want to see you die like this.”

“There lies the contradiction. Once before you risked your life to save the lives of people who you barely knew. Now I’m doing the same,” said Ororo calmly. Then she had an idea of how to delay the Gate Keeper. “What were Oshtur’s exact words in the decree? Maybe we can bend them to gain more time.”

Ashake placed a hand under her chin and pondered. The she spoke, “She said “In order to protect Earth from those who would ascend to this plane of time and space and deem themselves kings over the Earth and do all manner of mischief against it. I Oshtur proclaim that these evils be dealt with before it is too late.”

Ororo went silent, because Oshtur was correct. ” It is true. I may become evil by staying in this form,” said Ororo.

She stared at the Gate Keeper. Then she frowned. “At least I’ll die fighting.”

Ashake was impressed by the conviction in her descendant.

Ororo returned her attention to Ashake. “Tell me. What would I have learned in this realm?”

“That you know absolutely nothing about the true nature of the universe,” revealed Ashake. “That is how I felt never mind that I was versed in all forms of knowledge. It is still a mystery for me and even for Oshtur. That is the reason she left to explore the universe further.

“But what I can tell you is that the smaller things like particles are what hold the most power and are key to how the universe functions.”

Suddenly the Gate Keeper came closer to them. Yet Ororo stared defiantly at the creature.

“I will miss you T’Challa,” she thought.

Chapter Three

Wakanda, The Techno Jungle

T’Challa recollected the vicious attack he made on a group of terrorists less than an hour ago in his search for the Soul Strangler. Ororo’s predicament had made him edgier and he had taken it out on the terrorists.

“I have to control myself,” he thought and continued. “If I’m to coax Ororo back to humanity then I should have some inside of me.”

The warrior then pressed an icon on his console. Immediately the holographic face of Taku, the chief scientist appeared. The man had a clean-shaven head and large eyes.

“I want you to liaison with Dr Reed Richards. Like us he is working on developing nano robots that can consume the nuclear radiation,” said T’Challa.

“Okay. But are you all right?” asked Taku since he was the leader’s childhood friend.

“Ororo has been through a lot and I know she will get through this,” he said.

Then T’Challa terminated the call. He then contacted his younger sister, Shuri. Her face popped up on the console. She had a medium hair cut and chestnut brown eyes.

“What’s your status?” T’Challa asked.

“The commandos and I are prepped on the Ny’mea,” replied Shuri.

“Thanks. I’ll be there shortly.”

Then the message ended. He looked at the sword that rested against the console. The twin gold panther seals on the hilt were disguised time space computers. They provided time travel and teleportation. However they were running mandatory diagnostic checks that couldn’t be interfered with. Thus without the computers he would be unable to travel to the Soul Strangler at the moment the creature appeared on the scanners.

He would have to run the search from the Ny’mea warship. The vessel’s fast engines would hopefully take him to the Soul Strangler’s location in a reasonable time.

T’Challa took up the sword as he rose from the command chair. He magnetised the sword nano robot sheath to the back of his Black Panther body armour uniform. On his way out of the room, an urgent call came from the airforce.

“What is it?” he asked.

“A superhuman is flying into our airspace. Its present course is Central City,” replied the commander.

“Who could that be?” pondered T’Challa.

“Don’t engage. I’ll deal with it,” he said.

Seconds later after the call ended; he hurried to the left wall and touched a blue button. The wall slid across revealing a sky bike. He slipped into the leathery seat and activated the engines and anti gravity panels. Therefore the bike  levitated. Several doors opened ahead of the vehicle until daylight was seen when the last door opened. T’Challa throttled the vehicle and it shot forward at an exhilarating speed.

Within moments T’Challa was exiting the futuristic Techno Jungle. He contacted the airforce commander over the communications links on the bike controls. He was informed that the superhuman was nearing the Administration building. Therefore he steered the bike southward.

The Techno Jungle was a short distance from Central City and it took two minutes for T’Challa to reach the Administration building. He placed the sky bike in levitation mode. The gleam of the anti gravity panels on the underside intensified. Then the superhuman arrived and began hovering over the building. T’Challa recognised who the person was.

“Sabra,” he called out to her.

The woman had shoulder length brown hair and big eyes. She was in her late twenties. She wore a special uniform for  flying at top speeds and combat. Her employer, Mossad, designed it.

“T’Challa. I’m here to see Ororo and Hashim,” said Sabra.

She was a mutant like Ororo as well as a fellow X Men member and she had given Hashim to T’Challa and Ororo for his protection.

“Ororo is not here. But you can see Hashim,” said T’Challa.

“Thank you,” said Sabra.

“Follow me,” said T’Challa. “And you can shed some light on what happened in Kurdistan.” He turned the bike towards the northeast where the Rehabilitation centre was located.

Sabra was surprised. “How do you know about that?”

T’Challa merely glanced at her and he started the bike forward. Sabra flew along side him.

She passed over her astonishment and then answered the question. “The International Criminal Court handed over to us one of  Taj’s accomplices that you and Ororo captured. When the bombs went off he confessed the location they had teleported the warheads to in Kurdistan. But when we arrived there was nothing.”

“Do you think he lied?”

“That’s for my superiors to decide,” stated Sabra.

“Do they know that you are here, because you made it quite clear that contacting you would complicate matters?”

“At the time I found Hashim half dead. Yes it would have complicated matters. But seeing that the Soul Strangler has also abducted my country’s leader, I was ordered to use every means necessary to recover him,” replied Sabra.

Soon the two were outside  the city and headed to Akku.

“Hashim has made a lot of progress. He is walking now,” said T’Challa.

“Great,” said Sabra. Still in her mind she schemed on a manner in which to get a few moments alone with the man. Moreso, she swallowed the feelings she had for him and placed her national duty first.

T’Challa contacted the Rehabilitation centre about his impending arrival along with Sabra.

“Where exactly is Ororo?” inquired Sabra.

T’Challa was quiet for a second. Then he stated, “She has joined with the elements to stop the rapid spread of the radiation. In doing so, she saved thousand of lives.”

“But is she also the cause of all the strange climate changes?”

“Yes,” admitted T’Challa.

Eventually they came down on the Rehabilitation grounds. It was a tranquil facility for accident victims who required special physical therapy to heal their bodies. Hashim needed the treatment because of the damage Taj had inflicted in their fight.

But it was the fight that Sabra found peculiar, since Hashim had called her for assistance when he was left behind by Taj. She was the premier superhuman of her country and her absence meant that Taj had an easier time attacking her friends and colleagues at the Mossad superhuman base. She had to be sure that Hashim had not tricked her. She would have to be tough on him to find out the truth.

T’Challa and her quickly entered the building. They were met by Hashim’s doctors and were led to the room in which he stayed.

Naturally Hashim was pleased to see Sabra, but kept his conduct sedated because he was unsure if she had feelings for him like he had for her.

On the other hand, Sabra saw an opportunity to be alone with Hashim.

“T’Challa could you kindly allows us a moment alone,” she said.

He obliged since he wanted to get in contact with Shuri. Thus he and the doctor exited the room and closed the door.

Then Sabra looked over the Arab man. He was thirty and handsome. He had long black hair and a gladiator build. She sensed he was still weakened from his ordeal.

She began having second thoughts about hurting him. Then she finally made up her mind. “It has to be done,” she thought.

“I want to say-”

Hashim was cut short when Sabra took control of right arm and slammed his head onto the table that was near the bed. He couldn’t break free because of the woman’s superhuman strength.

She whispered to him. “Don’t make a sound unless I tell you to. I’ll crush you before T’Challa can reach in here.” Her right hand rested on his skull while the left hand pinned the body.

“Did you intentionally lure me out so that Taj could attack my base?” she asked softly.

Hashim tried without success to break the hold. “No,” he finally said.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I care about you too much to have done such a thing,” he confessed.

The sincerity in his voice touched Sabra’s heart and she began easing the hold.

Meanwhile on the outside, T’Challa was speaking with Shuri over the kimoyo when his hyper hearing picked up on the sudden noise in the room.

“Hold on,” he told his sister.

Then he opened the door and found Sabra attacking Hashim. “What is going on?” he asked just as he activated the claws in his left glove.

Sabra released Hashim and he rose sharply and he came between the woman and the Black Panther. He protectively shielded Sabra with his body.

“It was just a misunderstanding between friends,” said Hashim.

The Black Panther was five years older than Hashim, so his experience told him that the matter was settled.

The claws shot back into the glove after T’Challa activated the retract mode. “Sabra I’m going to be stationed on a warship on stand by. We have a tracer on the Soul Strangler but he has not shown up yet. You may want to come along,” he said.

Sabra stepped from behind Hashim and then she hugged him. “I believe and feel the same way about you,” she whispered in his ear.

Then she parted and left with T’Challa.

Chapter Five

Baron Zorba’s Castle

A healed Soul Strangler teleported into the holding area for the prisoners. He was in a tangible form, but the magnetic field around the castle blocked the tracer’s signal thus the device went dormant and then began slowly rebooting.

Zorba was seated at the control centre a few steps above the holding area. The Soul Strangler climbed the stairs to speak with the servant. He had no intention of bringing up the subject of T’Challa since that was a private matter.

Zorba took his eye off the monitor that regulated one of the prisoners. He turned side long to the creature.

“One more hour to go,” said Zorba.

“I still don’t understand the game that you are playing with these mortals,” said the Soul Strangler.

“You had to be there at the time.” Zorba rose from his seat and looked down at the eight transparent cells that each held a world leader. Then he recalled the world summit where he met the particular group of world leaders he held prisoner. “I know what real power is like. When I experimented and took the lives of my research subjects, I felt real power. Look,” he said and raised his right hand. It was made from nano robots even though it looked and felt like normal flesh. Suddenly the palm folded and a pit was formed in the centre of the hand. A dim light came from the pit.

“Despite all their fancy security no one detected that I was a weapon. I could have killed them all like that,” Zorba said. Then the hand returned to its previous state.

“It is clearer to me now,” said the Soul Strangler. “Now they have to the opportunity to do something that truly matters and they are unable to.”

“Precisely.”

Abruptly the Soul Strangler teleported back into the main holding area. He observed the cell on his left. A man was handcuffed to a chair and a small table was in front of him. Heavy drugs kept the man asleep and his eyes twitched constantly as he dreamed. The dream was induced by nano robots seeping into his brain from a thin tube that ran from the base of the skull to a machine in the corner of the cell.

“This game might be interesting after all,” thought the Soul Strangler.

He had the ability to place a nightmare spell on his victims, yet he was amazed that Zorba could artificially create one. He could see the strain on the prisoner’s face as the nightmare continued.

As Zorba had explained to the creature, each prisoner was given a puzzle box to solve in the dreamscape. They had a time limit of two hours to perform the task and if they failed then the nuclear warheads would be detonated in their countries.

The Soul Strangler walked the length of the holding area observing the rest of the prisoners.

“Less than an hour to go and it will all be over and Oshtur’s precious planet will be in ruins,” he thought.

He had never liked the leader of the ‘Elder Gods’ much less her decrees and laws. He was glad that she went away because it gave him greater freedom to do what he wanted on Earth.

Still unknown to both him and Zorba was that the tracer had rebooted and reconfigured its signal pattern to penetrate the magnetic shield.

Chapter Six

The bridge had a working crew of five: the Communications Officer, the Navigator, Ship Integrity Officer, the Weapons Officer and the commander.

T’Challa sat in the commander chair in the centre of the bridge. On the right of his seat was a computer console that showed readings of Ororo’s energy signature above Wakanda.

“She is doing her part and I’ll have to do mines,” he thought.

The Communications Officer’s discovery of the tracer signal interrupted him.

“Put it on the main screen,” ordered T’Challa. Then he focused on the computer on the left of his seat. He touched the communication icon and Shuri’s face appeared on the small screen.

“We have a signal. Come up and bring Sabra with you,” he said to his sister.

Then he peered at the main screen. A satellite tracked the signal to a small landlocked European country. Then it precisely closed in on Zorba’s castle.

“Computer who is the owner?” asked T’Challa.

The ship computer responded, “Baron Zorba ruler of –”

T’Challa had heard the name before. He turned his attention to the navigator. “Take us to the location in stealth mode.”

The bridge door opened and Shuri and Sabra entered. He glanced at them while he said, “Computer I want a layout of the castle both external and internal up on the second screen.”

Shuri wore the white vibranium commando body armour. A few moments ago she was introducing Sabra to her commando squad.

“You found him,” said Sabra.

“Yes,” replied T’Challa.

“How are you approaching this? Hard entry or subtle?” inquired Shuri.

T’Challa had made up his mind the moment the news came. “We’re going in heavy. An electro magnetic pulse will be fired at the grounds. Your commandos will subdue any opposition forces. You and Sabra are with me for infiltration to the lower level of the castle where the signal emanated from.”

“But what if the world leaders are there and he uses them as hostages? Or even the rest of the nuclear warheads are on site and they decide to detonate them?” asked Sabra.

T’Challa turned to the second main screen and as he expected it indicated a single escape tunnel ran to the tracer signal. Therefore he directed Sabra’s attention to the information.

“We’ll use the route to reach the lower level at the same time the EMP takes out the upper section,” said T’Challa.

“All right,” said Sabra as she went over the plan.

T’Challa glanced at the escape tunnel, it seemed to have sufficient space to use the sky bikes.

Chapter Seven

The electro magnetic pulse drained the power from the castle, but it had no affect on the cyborg guards hence the commandos had a tough battle on their hands. Wakanda’s elite were dropped onto the castle from the Ny’mea warship. The commandos wore white body armour that had invisibility camouflage. They also carried sonic wave hand cannons.

Meanwhile T’Challa’s sky bike erupted out of the escape tunnel and into the holding area. Shuri on her bike and a flying Sabra followed. Without hesitation, the Black Panther drove up to the control centre where Zorba and the Soul Strangler stood in shock. As the vehicle was on silent mode, T’Challa’s sudden emergence seemed surreal.

Instinctively the Soul Strangler began to teleport. He held Zorba’s shoulder lightly so the human may also escape. T’Challa noticed the creature’s attempt thus he increased the speed of the bike to close the gap and he reached in time as the teleportation took full effect. Therefore T’Challa, the Soul Strangler and Zorba disappeared from the control centre.

“T’Challa!” thought Shuri and then she focused on the mission which was saving the adducted and finding the warheads.

The Limbo Dimension

T’Challa’s follow through had him colliding with a stone post. He fell heavily onto the barren terrain and he was momentarily stunned.

Zorba and the Soul Strangler stood a few feet away.

“Where is this place?” asked the man.

“Limbo. You will be safe here for now,” replied the Soul Strangler.

“And it shall be his final resting place,” thought the creature as he stared at T’Challa who was covered by the mangled metal.

The Black Panther mentally checked his body for injuries. There weren’t any, still he suffered from the shock of the crash, which had totalled most of the sky bike.

T’Challa removed the sword from his back and the nano robots receded into the hilt.

Zorba noticed it. “Interesting,” he muttered and he raised his left hand like a magician at T’Challa’s sword. He concentrated and then he found the frequency that the sword’s nano robots used. Then he commanded them to sheath the dark force energy blade.

T’Challa heard the sharp clasp of the nano robots over the blade and he realised that he would be without the use of his sword.

“Finally the advantage is mine,” thought the Soul Strangler. He muttered a spell and a short fiery trident appeared in his right hand.

T’Challa rested the sword on his back and activated his claws. Then waited for the attack.

The Soul Strangler sprang forward like a cobra. T’Challa didn’t attempt to dodge or parry the danger. He waited for the precise moment in which to use the attacker’s speed and strength. Thus the Black Panther kept his body slack.

Then to the Soul Strangler’s surprise, T’Challa leapt up and hooked his legs around the creature’s neck. Locking the limbs tightly. Then the Black Panther was twisting his body rightward and in the process turning the Soul Strangler over.

The intricate manoeuvre ended with the combatants tumbling to the ground and T’Challa pinning the Soul Strangler’s arms with one hand. Whilst the free hand slashed deeply the throat and then the creature’s eyes.

Zorba saw the opportunity to take an open shot at T’Challa. He extended his arms and the palms folded creating two pits. Then two energy blasts erupted from Zorba’s hands. The shots catapulted T’Challa away from the Soul Strangler.

Zorba studied the creature’s condition. “Now how am I get out of this place?” he thought.

Meanwhile T’Challa regained his footing after landing roughly on the terrain. He stared at his new opponent. “He’s either totally robotic or a cyborg,” he thought.

“This is your one chance to surrender,” said T’Challa.

“Please,” said Zorba mockingly. “I was going to tell you the same thing.”

“You had your chance,” stated T’Challa.

He inhaled deeply and then sprinted forward. To a normal human his speed would have made him appear invisible, but Zorba’s cybernetic eyes saw T’Challa’s every move. The cyborg fired freely at his target.

T’Challa dodged the first shots as he drew nearer to Zorba. Then he leapt over the last energy blasts. The cyborg had not anticipated the act and was caught out. T’Challa made a sweeping slash along Zorba’s face and upper torso.

The cyborg fell under T’Challa’s weight and then became still. Suddenly T’Challa’s hyper sense of smell caught the scent of Taj. However he ensured that Zorba was not functioning. Then he looked around for the Soul Strangler, but the creature was gone.

“Damn it,” thought T’Challa.

He followed the scent to a short distance away from the fight. There he found a dead Taj tied with ropes of fire to a stone post. He could see from the face that the man had been severely beaten.

“The Soul Strangler must have done this,” thought T’Challa.

He then cut the man loose.

“T’Challa,” said the sword.

“What is it.”

“Diagnostic check has completed. We are able to teleport.”

“Great.”

T’Challa hoisted Taj onto his shoulder. Then he secured Zorba. “Take us to the castle.”

The time space computers activated and a golden light encompassed T’Challa and his burdens. Then they disappeared from the Limbo Dimension.

Chapter Eight

Ororo flew up to the Gate Keeper’s face and she entered the void. In the darkness she shouted, “Listen carefully creature. You kill me and you also destroy yourself.”

Ashake looked on in horror, not knowing how the Gate Keeper would react. Suddenly she heard a mortal’s voice.

“Ororo! Ororo! My love! We have solved the problem. You can return now.”

Ashake floated to the Gate Keeper. “Ororo do you hear that voice!”

“Yes I hear it,” she said. “How about you Gate Keeper? Do you hear it? I’m am leaving this place.”

Then with a leap of faith, Ororo exited the void. She noticed the Gate Keeper was moving. She saw him fully now. His magnitude was astounding, yet beautiful. Half of him was made from beads of yellow light. The other part was dark and bright flashes occurred repeatedly. His mighty sword began to glow still it was too late.

Ororo had vanished from his sight.

Ashake looked in wonder as the Gate Keeper melted into the universe, until the next time he was required. Then she returned to the council of the Elders.

Ororo fell into T’Challa’s arms as she returned to a human body. She was exhausted from her ordeal.

T’Challa promptly carried her on the sky bike down to Wakanda. Her grandmother was waiting for her.

Chapter Nine

Malice the Queen of Chedula, watched the latest news of T’Challa’s and Ororo’s heroics. The reports stated that Mr Fantastic along with Wakanda had engineered nano robots to consume the radiation caused by the bombs. The robots were then to be buried. Meanwhile the culprit behind the atrocities, Zorba was alive and in custody.

“Turn it off,” said Malice to the Queen mother.

The mother in law obeyed and turned to the queen.

“I want to be alone now,” said Malice and then she hugged the Queen mother who then departed from the room.

Malice sat in a chair, and she pondered on what Magneto had told her about revenge. That it was most satisfying when done right.

“I can’t wait,” thought Malice.

Tomorrow she would reveal to the world that she had miraculously recovered from her illness. Then she would take back the throne from the Regent, her brother in law.

Afterwards the new Malice would be in power and she intended to make her presence felt.

Next Story: Malice

Followed by: Genosha

The God Particle

Klaw

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Black Panther and Storm in Kings of the Earth Pt I

Previously in The Black Panther and Storm:

For over ten thousand years warrior kings called Black Panthers ruled and protected the isolated and unconquerable African nation Wakanda. In their isolation Wakanda became the most scientifically advanced nation on Earth. T’Challa was the latest Black Panther, and he believed that his great nation was obligated to use its resources to help the less fortunate; defenseless peoples of the world against tyranny, corruption, and megalomaniac super humans.

Black Panther later married Ororo ‘Storm’ Munroe the extraordinary mutant heroine.

Story: Kings of the Earth Pt I

Prologue

The thermonuclear warhead with a variable yield was passed through customs without hassle, because it was concealed in an art sculpture. Furthermore the sculpture was apart of a diplomatic package from a ‘friendly’ European country; hence, the inspectors had no reason to go beyond the routine check of the item.

Without delay, the nuclear warhead was transported by a truck into the major city, but the lone driver didn’t go to the embassy. Instead the cyborg parked the truck on a quiet street, five blocks from the busy downtown district. There he waited for further instructions from his designer.

The warhead was not like the obese relics that were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Years of advancement had trimmed down the size of the weapons.

Safety had also improved with time. Therefore a car crashing into the rear of the truck would not set off the warhead, because there were partitions in the weapon that prevented an unwanted explosion from starting the chain reaction.

When the time came, the cyborg would remove the safes and activate the warhead. He would remain to ensure that detonation was completed. The aftermath would be the release of a blast, a thermal pulse, neutrons, x – and gamma rays, an electromagnetic pulse and ionization of the upper atmosphere. The city would be wiped out.

And the world would wait in terror and wonder who will be next?

Chapter One

T’Challa and Ororo finally got a break from speaking with the world leaders about the twenty-six missing nuclear warheads, Taj and the supernatural entity called the Soul Strangler. Ororo made use of the interval by going to Kenya to pick up Umba who was visiting their grandmother. T’Challa took the time to get back on building a device to capture the Soul Strangler.

However he had to make a quick stop at the Rehabilitation grounds in Akku. It was there that Hashim the second Arabian Knight recuperated from his battle with Taj. T’Challa drove a sky bike to the destination. The chromatic computers on his sword hilt were performing routine self-diagnostic tests so they couldn’t teleport him. Still T’Challa relished the opportunity to feel the wind in his face and be amongst his people.

The citizens that saw him waved or shouted out his name. He acknowledged them with a hand gesture or a verbal response. He was laid back in the comfortable seat of the bike. He turned the throttle slightly towards him and the jet like engine purred while the bike crossed over buildings. The six anti gravity plates on the underside of the bike shined even more as the vehicle accelerated.

Soon T’Challa arrived at the Akku grounds. He landed the bike at the front of the main building. There he met the doctor in charge of Hashim.

“He is making great progress,” commented the physician. “But there is only so much that his chi energy can do at this time. He may have to slow down for his body to rest.”

“I doubt that will be possible knowing the man,” stated T’Challa as he strode into the building. Then he entered an observation booth. On the other side of the glass was Hashim and two low parallel bars, which were used to help patients walk again.

By all accounts, Hashim should be temporarily paralysed from the lower spine down and several of his organs badly damaged. Nevertheless, by mastering his chi force he had gradually began walking. T’Challa quietly observed the Arab man as he edged across the parallel bars. A bizarre metal decorated his body like a tattoo. It was a Wakanda healing technique that fused bone and muscle with a silver metal.

Hashim didn’t notice T’Challa and the Black Panther didn’t interrupt the man’s concentration.

“I’ve been there before,” thought T’Challa.

Meanwhile Hashim thought about Sabra, that she had risked everything to save him and he had to somehow repay the debt. A part of him wanted to heal quickly just to see her sooner.

“I’ve seen enough,” T’Challa informed the doctor. “I’ll most likely be in the Techno Jungle if you need me.”

Afterwards he departed for Central City.

Thirteen minutes later, the bike cruised into the Techno Jungle entrance. The immense structure that went several feet underground was the home of Wakanda’s military science and T’Challa had designed it as part of his legacy as the latest Black Panther.

The bike and the rider were swallowed up in the futuristic structure. T’Challa headed downward through a tunnel. He navigated in-between the passing hover shuttles, which carried personnel.

Then he applied the brakes and slotted into another tunnel. This one was devoid of traffic and ended at a door. He parked the bike in front the door. Then he entered the combination number into the keypad that was on the wall. The door slid across and T’Challa entered a laboratory.

The hologram of the device he was constructing was spinning slowly above the centre table. The device worked on the premise that the Soul Strangler was an ectoplasmic entity. If T’Challa could find the correct frequency that the entity channelled he could then stop it from teleporting.

He sat at the table and gave instructions to the super computer that created the hologram. Momentarily his mind went to Ororo.

“I wonder how her grandmother is doing?”

Chapter Two

Dreams of Ashake had tormented the old lady with short white hair and deep blue eyes.

“N’Dare had the same problem when she was in Egypt,” revealed the old woman.

Ororo sat in silence as she heard the names of first her great ancestor and then her deceased mother. Then the wind rider looked across at another generation of Kenyan weather women. Ororo had the same long and vivid white hair and the piercing blue eyes.

“What exactly did she say?” asked Ororo since it was the first time she was hearing about the matter.

The grandmother rose and she went to the draw. She took out several letters and presented them to Ororo.

“It’s all in here,” the old lady explained as she handed over her daughter’s letters.

Ororo opened the documents and perused them. The magnitude of the letters meant she had to take them home to fully contemplate their meaning. Thus she asked her grandmother for permission.

“Its all right dear. They are yours now,” said the grandmother.

The two women sat opposite to each other in the spacious living room. The rest of the house was silent. Outside the house was a high wall. A special area in the house was for visitors who sought the company of the ‘weather queen’ as the grandmother was referred too although she rejected the moniker.

Ororo wondered if Ramonda her mother in law would get along with her grandmother.

“At least they have one thing in common. They would like to see a child from T’Challa and me,” thought Ororo.

Speaking of children, she noticed that one picture was missing from the rest that adorned the living room walls. Shetani was no where to be found. But remarkably a recent picture of Umba was on the right wall. The photograph was taken a day before.

Ororo wanted to know about her grandmother’s feelings towards her deceased son, Shetani. But the absence of the picture already told Ororo volumes about the grandmother’s state of mind on her disgraced child.

Then Ororo looked over her grandmother’s profile.

“Is this how I will look in years to come?” she joked in her mind.

There was a majestic quality that radiated from the grandmother along with class. Then a poignant question came to Ororo’s mind and she revealed it.

“Have there ever been instances when our ancestors went over the limit with the powers?”

The grandmother paused and reflected. Then she spoke, “Your speaking about the darker side of it. The great pull as one of our ancestors described it. There was one. She joined with the elements, but she was struck down.”

“What could have done that to her?” Ororo was shocked.

“No one knows. Whatever the entity was it killed her,” replied the old lady and she looked at Ororo with concern, “I have sensed when you have lost control.”

“Just a few times and it was not for a prolong period, but I always came back.”

“Be careful,” said the grandmother.

Ten minutes later, Ororo was out in the courtyard waiting for Umba to come from his room. Eventually the stocky fifteen-year-old briskly exited the house. He carried his luggage in his hands and on his face was the computerised visor that aided him because of his blindness.

The boy was eager to return to Wakanda because he believed another guy was trying to get his girlfriend Enzi. The root of the dilemma occurred the night before when he had called Enzi and a guy had answered her phone. Then the person put him onto Enzi.

Umba was so curious to know the identity of the guy that he ended up having a brief fight with Enzi. She had called him paranoid and that the guy was a friend she had known before they had even met. The guy was a year older than Enzi who was sixteen.

Either way Umba had been fuming internally for the pass day. He had even imagined using his ability (to destroy living organism with invisible energy beams from his eyes) on the guy.

“But that will just make matters worst,” he had thought. “I just spend a few days away and already some one is trying to make a move on her.”

Jealousy was a new sensation for Umba. It stung him in the chest every time he thought about the incident. Still he kept a calm appearance when he neared Ororo.

“Did you tell your grandmother that you were leaving?” she inquired.

“Yes. I like her too and she seems to feel the same towards me.”

Ororo reflected that the grandmother must have been delighted that Shetani’s son was nothing like the man.

Thereafter Ororo and Umba boarded the mini jet that was on the courtyard. Then Ororo piloted the plane from Kenya to Wakanda.

Chapter Three

The Limbo Dimension

The Soul Strangler surveyed the barren terrain and the twilight sky. He wore battle armour and a war helmet. A fiery trident was in his right hand and his red horse waited a few feet from him.

The entity turned to his human captive. Taj was tied with supernatural fire that didn’t burn the body but the soul. The fiery ropes had strapped him to a stone post.

“Why don’t you kill me,” Taj muttered from his swollen mouth.

The Soul Strangler stared at the human. Taj’s left eye was concealed by swollen flesh that had come down from the brow. The rest of the face was bloodied and battered.

“The blood of Atlantis runs in your veins,” said the creature. “I once I had stayed in that land and I admired it’s warriors-your ancestors. So I will allow you to die with the dignity that you withstood the punishment for as long as you were able to.”

“Before I die at least tell me who you gave the warheads to,” said Taj.

The Soul Strangler gave a thin grin that disappeared quickly, “No.”

Then the creature walked over to his horse. “Speaking of which, I have to meet my servant now.”

The Soul Strangler slipped onto his animal and a portal of fire opened before them. He struck his ankles into the horse and it bolted into the portal.

Taj barely saw the scene much less anything else. All he could feel was the constant burning on his soul. The only reason he battled to stay alive was the belief that T’Challa might find him and stop the Soul Strangler.

Chapter Four

Baron Zorba’s medieval castle was grim and old on the outside, but inside was quite futuristic. Similarly there were two sides to Zorba. To the rest of the world he was a respectable European gentlemen of wealth and taste who ruled over a small landlocked country. To the creatures of the night, he was an infamous beast that stalked the towns that bordered his country.

Zorba’s greatest and most cherished asset was his brain. He was born to be an engineer. Cyborgs were his speciality. So much so that he eventually became one by his own doing.

He had performed the transformation using nano robots. Then he went one step further and had the nano robots replicate flesh. It took him years to complete that task and he used towns’ people from the borders for his research. He snatched them from their homes at night and thus a myth had been created by the townsfolk about an unseen monster.

Zorba was forty-five years old when the Soul Strangler visited him in person.

He had sensed the creature’s presence many times before on hunts, it seemed to thrive on the anxiety and fear that he created at night.

Presently, the Soul Strangler emerged from the transdimensional portal. The horse’s hoofs clopped on the concrete floor and fire flared from its nostrils.

The Soul Strangler observed the area that was once a dungeon but had been upgraded. There were eight transparent cells, each with a single chair and table and barely any space to move about. In the centre of the dungeon was a dormant video screen. All the occupants of the cells would be able to see the screen clearly.

“My servant has done well,” thought the Soul Strangler.

He was unable by supernatural law to directly create the fear and terror that he fed on. Therefore he required men like Zorba. However he could walk the line of breaking the law. Hence his involvement in the scheme.

“Everything is place?” asked the Soul Strangler.

Zorba finished the item in the last holding cell and he turned to the creature. He said, “I have managed to smuggle most of the bombs into various countries through my diplomatic leeway. It is only the matter of you bringing the kings of the earth here.”

“Why do you call them that?”

“Because that is what they think of themselves,” responded Zorba frankly. “Actually it was at the last world summit that I began to loathe these people; their pompous arrogance and belief that they are the centre of the universe made me sick. I want to make them know their true place in the grand scheme of things.”

Zorba clasped his hands loudly. “Let’s begin shall we.”

He went to the control centre a few steps above the dungeons. A cluster of computer terminals rested on a table. There he contacted one of the twenty-six cyborgs.

“Detonate,” Zorba said.

Chapter Five

T’Challa was interrupted from manually embedding the circuitry into the device. The first call was that Ororo had arrived home. The second call was for another round of talks with the major world leaders.

He estimated another hour was needed until the device was perfected. T’Challa enjoyed working with his hands and solving difficult problems. He didn’t mind taking a break to be with his wife. On the other hand, speaking with the world leaders again on the same issue was tiresome for him.

He quickly cleaned himself up. Then he inquired from the chromatic computers if  the diagnostics were completed.

“No,” they replied.

“Try and speed up the process then.”

Then he magnetised the sword to the back of his Black Panther body armour suit. The sacred uniform was all black and the facemask had two computerised eye slits with white shields. Two protrusions at the top of the mask like ears were camouflaged antennas. In the gloves were claws made from anti vibranium. A pair of laser knifes were on his belt.

T’Challa was trained from birth to be a warrior king of a superpower nation and it showed in his demeanour. He walked confidently, spoke clearly and his movements were sharp. His body was built for speed, stamina, strength and agility. He had the heightened senses of a panther that was given to him from a herb, which he had earned the right to consume based on the centuries old Black Panther tradition.

He took an elevator to the communications room that was within the Techno Jungle. He thought about Umba’s wish to emulate his guardians’ heroics. There was talk by the African Union of countries to create their own super human team.

“Maybe Umba might be interested,” thought T’Challa.

But then again, Soberk was expected to lead the team and T’Challa wanted nothing to do with the man. Furthermore T’Challa and Ororo were plotting against Soberk just as he was plotting against them.

The elevator stopped and opened to the communication room. Ororo was seated in a chair that faced ten monitors. She had a concerned expression and she held several letters in her hand.

T’Challa kissed her. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“My mother,” replied Ororo. “While we were in Egypt she did some backup research on Ashake. During the course of it, she experienced cryptic dreams at night. They warned her about checks and balances in the order of things.”

“Meaning what?” T’Challa sat in the next seat.

“Me. There have only been two weather mutants who had gone over the edge. I’m one of them. The other one was struck down by a force greater than herself.”

“But you have crossed the line several times before and nothing happened.”

“I didn’t stay too long as a higher entity. My ancestor did and she paid the price for it,” said Ororo as she shifted through the letters.

She handed one over to T’Challa and pointed out a paragraph that he should read. T’Challa found the information written by N’Dare to be vague like she was not sure if the dreams were real or just her playful imagination.

“She was concerned for my well being,” said Ororo, as she looked at the letter in her right hand. “Here she was worried that I may suffer the same fate as our ancestor.”

T’Challa knew that the mutant powers had skipped N’Dare although she also had had the white hair and blue eyes. He could picture N’Dare watching an infant Ororo and fearing that her child may suffer because of her mutant powers.

“What does your grandmother have to say?” asked T’Challa.

“She has been having dreams about Ashake. They were warnings.” Ororo rested the letters at her side. “Something is coming. I felt it on the trip back here. I’m not afraid of it. I’m actually curious.”

“That’s a good thing,” said T’Challa.

Ororo placed a hand to T’Challa’s handsome face. “Your too sweet.” Then she changed the subject. “So what about the device, is it ready?”

“I need another hour and the sword still won’t teleport for now. I might have to trade it in.”

Suddenly the annoyed time space computers beeped.

“They heard you,” commented Ororo with a smile. Then she focused on the blank monitors. She didn’t like the tone of the world leaders during the last meeting. Two of them were vexed that the couple had handed over Taj’s team to the International Criminal Court instead of the countries that they had stolen the nuclear warheads from. The rest of the leaders had their own agendas with regards to Wakanda and they suffered themselves to speak with the couple.

Suddenly Ororo felt a disturbance in the natural forces of the Earth. There were two disturbances in fact.

“I have to go outside, something is wrong,” she said.

Chapter Six

The two nuclear explosions sent shock waves through the atmosphere and Ororo felt them. She glided on thermal wind currents above the Techno Jungle and her ability to see the weather patterns made her aware of the shifts that were occurring in two places that were miles away from her.

T’Challa called her on the communicator.

“Yes, darling,” she answered.

“They were two bombs in two major cities. I’m watching the footage right now.”

“Could Taj have done it?”

“I can’t say right now. I believe he has genuinely changed but to do this-”

Ororo could sense the affects of the mushroom clouds spreading. “I have to contain them,” she thought.

“Darling, I can’t stay. I have to deal with this now outside of my physical form,” she said.

“Be careful.”

“I will and I love you.”

“I love you also sweetheart.”

Then Ororo ascended further into the sky. “I have to let go. It’s the only way to keep the radiation isolated to those areas,” she contemplated.

Slowly Ororo peeled away her inhibitions regarding her powers. The immediate atmosphere reacted angrily during her metamorphosis. Soon she was no longer human but an entity of pure energy.

“God, I hope T’Challa can bring me back to humanity after I’m done,” she thought as the transformation was almost completed.

The curious side of her was also alive. “What is this thing that awaits me on the other side?” she pondered.

Meanwhile, T’Challa received an urgent phone call from the grandmother.

“Where is Ororo?” the woman asked hurriedly.

“She’s gone. Two nuclear explosions occurred five minutes ago. She had to change into the entity to protect the surrounding areas.”

“Oh no,” said the grandmother.

“What is it?”

“I saw Ashake again. She told me what awaits Ororo if she stays too long at that level.”

“What?” asked T’Challa with great concern for his wife.

“The powers that be don’t want the balance interfered with. Ororo would shift the balance if she stays. They have an executioner waiting on the other side.”

T’Challa rested his hand on the nearby console to brace himself. He was aware that Ashake was an ancient Egyptian priestess who was trained by higher entities. It would not be a lie if she warned about an executioner.

“I understand,” said T’Challa. He planned to use the sky bike to reach Ororo and tell her.

“Okay. I’ll be waiting on your call,” said the grandmother.

But T’Challa knew his wife’s heart. She would sacrifice herself to save the lives of the people in the immediate areas.

“I still have to warn her,” he thought.

He hurried out of the communications room and into an elevator. He emerged in the lab and then he opened  the door to the sky bike. Within moments, the vehicle zinged out of the Techno Jungle.

The onboard computer used satellites to pin point Ororo’s location in the upper atmosphere. She was a shinning creature. Around her was turbulent and lightening flashed every which way.

T’Challa placed an oxygen helmet on his head and he activated the external speakers.

“Ororo,” he shouted.

“I know that voice,” said the creature.

“Your grandmother, says there is an executioner waiting for you the longer that you remain in that form,” he shouted again.

“You’ll bring me back before that comes,” she said. “But I have to concentrate now.”

There was nothing else he could do. T’Challa shifted the gears and he headed down.

“But how long can you stay that way before the executioner comes. An hour perhaps? I’ll also have to inform the X men about the situation.”

Meanwhile Ororo was viewing elements that were hidden from her when she was flesh. She manipulated the winds around the blast zones and created a whirlwind that contained the radiation. In the process she affected other weather patterns around the world. Therefore she had to concentrate hard to balance the adverse effects she created.

Unbeknownst to Ororo was that the two shimmering globes in the distance were not apart of the elemental array. They were the eyes of the creature made to execute her kind. The longer she stayed the more aware she would become of the creature’s size and magnitude.

And the being waited patiently as ordered by the other entities. It was Ashake who had pleaded for the entities to hold their hand. However if Ororo became fully aware of the creature that meant she had remained to long in that plane of existence. Then the creature would strike her down.

Chapter Seven

During T’Challa’s organisation of a relief team to the areas near the bombsites, he received a call from Nicholas Fury, the head of S.H.I.E.L.D.

“It looks like Taj decided to use those warheads,” said Fury.

“We don’t know for sure that it is him,” stated T’Challa.

“Come on. The man tried to kill you and you’re still defending him. But forget that. I’m calling you about the Soul Strangler.” There was a heightening of seriousness in Fury’s voice. “He just took the US President and my sources elsewhere say that the British and Italian PMs have also been snatched by the same guy. Any clues on where they might be?”

“I’m still working on luring him out.”

“Look T’Challa I’m not going to tell you how to run your operation. But a lot is riding on you right now. I’ve got my own load to shovel with all the panic that those bombs caused.”

Then the conversation ended. The next thirty minutes passed quickly. He monitored Ororo from the lab while he worked on the device.

“Thank god nothing has happened as yet to her,” he thought.

T’Challa called Umba and spoke with him briefly. The boy was worried about Ororo but T’Challa did his best to quell the kid’s fears.

Finally an hour came and Ororo was still present. T’Challa was not relieved. The device was finished and working properly. It meant that he would have to leave Wakanda and his monitoring of Ororo. He didn’t like it.

Before T’Challa left Wakanda he received news from his secret service that five other world leaders were kidnapped.

“What is going on?” he wondered.

He placed the sky bike in a mini jet and then he piloted the plane to the Middle East. He was going after one of the Soul Strangler’s servants.

Zorba’s Castle

The world leaders were sedated and thoroughly scanned for tracers. The items were then surgically removed. This took time, but Zorba had expected it.

He observed the robots that performed the surgeries. He designed the machines and they operated silently. They were programmed to think during an operation, which meant that Zorba had no fears that one of them would kill a patient before hand.

The Soul Strangler was not in the castle.

“He must be off somewhere feeding on the fear that is holding the Earth,” Zorba thought.

Already he was thinking about the future after the present plan was completed. The fall out of the nuclear attacks would devastate large sections of the globe. He could utilise the victims for his cyborg research.

“I win both ways,” he pondered.

His only gripe was that the weather patterns were not dispersing the radiation as he hoped. On the news broadcasts it was noted that bizarre weather was occurring around the blast zones.

“No bother. When the other twenty four warheads go off I doubt Mother Nature would have enough in her to thwart the damage,” he said calmly.

Chapter Eight

After an hour and thirty-six minutes, Ororo was still alive.

“What’s that over there?” she muttered.

There was a partial face in the distance. She made out the ominous eyes, the brow and the forehead. They were massive and dwarfed her.

Meanwhile she experienced the sensation of having raw power at her fingertips. She felt free. Free to do anything.

“Contain yourself, Ororo,” she snapped. “Remember that you hate this. Remember T’Challa.”

Halla,

King Omar was under the protection of the Soul Strangler and he acted like it. He restarted his connections in the terrorist underworld without fears of capture. Like everyone else he was caught off guard by the two nuclear warheads exploding.

He and his business friends were watching the news when the palace was attacked by T’Challa.

Omar was thankful for T’Challa’s appearance.

“I can display my invincibility,” he thought.

Therefore he told his guards to stand down, and he calmed the nerves of his associates who were eager to flee.

“Hold on, hold on. Watch. He can’t do me anything,” Omar gloated.

T’Challa shrugged off the guards easy surrender and he followed Omar’s scent. It led him to a hanging garden. Omar and his friends were on a ledge.

“Good to see you again old friend,” said Omar.

He sat at a table along with three other men. The high definition monitor was on the right hand side. T’Challa recognised the three men from his secret service intel. They were terrorist financiers and fugitives.

Without warning, T’Challa took the sword from his back. The nano robots sheath raced into the hilt revealing the ebony energy blade. With one smooth motion, T’Challa lopped off the upper torsos of two financiers.

The last one bolted from his seat, yet T’Challa with astounding speed and accuracy struck the man’s upper body with his left boot. The precise impact broke the man’s ribs and punctured his heart.

Omar was silent in the wake of the carnage. T’Challa lifted up the table with one hand and threw it to the side. Then he slashed diagonally at Omar.

Chapter Nine

The Soul Strangler appeared in the nick of time and parried T’Challa’s attack with his trident.

“Glad you came,” thought T’Challa.

Then he unhooked the small device from his belt and he fired it at the Soul Strangler. The device latched onto the creature’s right arm.

“What’s this?” the Soul Strangler asked as he observed the device.

T’Challa made ready the tracker that was in-between his fingers. “Just need to get in close,” he thought.

Then the Black Panther pounced at the creature. The Soul Strangler knew his trident was no match for T’Challa’s sword and his nightmare spell had stopped the human on the last occasion they had fought. Thus the creature opted to dodge T’Challa and then implement the spell.

T’Challa barely made a touch as he passed the Soul Strangler.

“He’s going to try the spell now,” thought T’Challa.

He caught his balance and then he grabbed the seated Omar. He swivelled on his heels and brought the king between him and the Soul Strangler. Thus the creature placed the spell on Omar instead of T’Challa.

The Black Panther tossed the man at the creature and then darted in behind the human shield. The Soul Strangler smacked Omar to the side but could do nothing as T’Challa lunged into him.

The Black Panther stabbed the creature through the stomach. Immediately the Soul Strangler tried to teleport away, but he couldn’t.

The device on his arm made a noise. He understood what it meant.

T’Challa withdrew the sword and he kicked down the creature.

“Where’s Taj? Where are the warheads,” shouted T’Challa savagely.

The Soul Strangler muttered but it was to distract T’Challa. The creature slashed off the offending arm with the trident. Then he vanished.

“I still know where you are,” thought T’Challa.

He looked at Omar. The man’s eyes were rolled up in the sockets and salvia poured from his mouth. Now and again he convulsed as his nightmare continued.

“Pleasant dreams,” said T’Challa.

He looked at the time on his kimoyo. “I hope Ororo is still there,” he thought.

Chapter Ten

Zorba concealed his face with a robotic mask and he made his voice distorted. He dressed in a formal black tailor made suit. Then he strolled into the cell area.

He observed the eight prisoners as they slept handcuffed to computerised chairs. A thin tube was inserted into their brains and nano robots travelled inside of the them. The minute robots manipulated the brains to create a programmed dream sequence that Zorba had created.

Zorba checked his watch. “Let’s begin,” he said.

He took a remote from his pocket and activated the dream sequence. He noticed that all the prisoners’ eyes were twitching.

“That means its working,” he thought.

Each prisoner saw the same dream, which began by Zorba’s appearance in disguise.

“I have possession of twenty four nuclear warheads. They are strategically placed in several of your cities and are set to detonate in two hours time. But you can prevent that,” he said.

A puzzle box replaced Zorba in the dream.

“As a politician you are familiar with game theory. “If I do this then the other side will do that”, so this is right up your alley. You have two hours to solve the puzzle. If you are successful then the countdown will stop and the bombs will not go off. It is that simple. You have the world is in your hands. Countdown begins now.”

Suddenly Zorba heard several of the prisoners struggling to awaken. They pulled at their handcuffs and tried to leap out of their sleep as though they were chased by a nightmare.

Gradually the struggling stopped as the drugs kicked in and then the holding area was quiet again.

The puzzle boxes were impossible to be solved in two hours time. Zorba knew that but he wanted the prisoners to know how powerless they really were.

Chapter Eleven

Ororo could see the face clearly now. It was oval with shimmering eyes that stared at her.

“Who are you?” she shouted.

The creature did not respond. Then another object was slowly appearing. It was the tip of a sword.

“How much longer can I stay here?” Ororo thought. “No matter the consequences I must remain to safe guard the rest of the planet even if that means destroying this creature.”

Next Story: Kings of the Earth Pt II

Followed by: Malice

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Black Panther and Storm in Middle East On Fire

Previously in The Black Panther and Storm:

For over ten thousand years warrior kings called Black Panthers ruled and protected the isolated and unconquerable African nation Wakanda. In their isolation Wakanda became the most scientifically advanced nation on Earth. T’Challa was the latest Black Panther, and he believed that his great nation was obligated to use its resources to help the less fortunate; defenseless peoples of the world against tyranny, corruption, and megalomaniac super humans.

Black Panther later married Ororo ‘Storm’ Munroe the extraordinary mutant heroine.

Story: Middle East on Fire

Chapter One

Jordan

The desert wind laden with sand  hid the badly beaten body. Yet the woman named Sabra found Navid Hashim-the second Arabian Knight- as he lay half dead on the red earth.

The wind subsided and Sabra viewed her friend more clearly than before. He was a thirty-year-old Arab man with long black hair, a short beard and an athletic build. His supposedly indestructible uniform was severed throughout. The magical scimitar that he carried was broken and rested by his side.

“Who did this?” Sabra  asked herself as she checked him for a pulse-it was weak. She may have healed him by transferring a part of her life energy but that would raise questions from her Mossad superiors as to why her power levels had dropped.

Sabra was Mossad-Israeli secret service- and Hashim worked for the Arab League of Nations secret defence division. They were suppose to be enemies, but fate had already made them allies. Therefore Sabra was not surprised that Hashim called her out of all the people in the world. But she had go to him discreetly since the Kibbutz would discover their relationship.

Hashim’s phone was still in his hand- in a death like grip. Sabra prized the hand open with minimal effort because of her superhuman strength.

“What to do now?” she asked herself. Brushing her brown hair back from her face. Then the young woman stared up at the starry sky.

“I can’t take him back to Israel. They’ll only interrogate him about the nuclear and superhuman programs that the Arab nations are conducting. I doubt he’ll receive the medical care he requires,” she said. “And I can’t give him back to the Arab League because they might be the ones that did this to him.”

She looked at Hashim and remembered their first encounter. They had been each chosen by opposite controllers to fight in an intergalactic gladiator tournament. There Hashim had told her about his heritage as the descendant of the man that first defeated Magog and Gog- the demons created to destroy Israel.

She had asked him if the demon brothers reappeared if he would fight them in light of the situation with the Arab nations and Israel.

“In a heart beat,” he responded.

That was when Sabra started developing a respect for the man.

Presently, Sabra gently wiped the blood from Hashim’s face. Then she looked at the phone again. Who could she call for assistance?

At once she remembered the fellow mutant Ororo since they shared the same mentor in Professor Charles Xavier. It was also well known that Ororo was in charge of the nation Wakanda.

“That’s perfect,” thought Sabra because Wakanda was impartial to the conflict in the Middle East and they would have the medical expertise to aid Hashim.

Therefore Sabra left a message for Ororo and then contacted the well-known number that Ororo and her husband T’Challa had given to world leaders in need of their assistance.

When she was finished with the message, Sabra said a prayer for Hashim’s recovery and then she flew off.

Leaving the phone in Hashim’s hand.

Chapter Two

Even though T’Challa had seen the transformation repeatedly it still amazed him. He was lying on the blanket under the flowery Saseng tree and not too far from him was Ororo. She was facing the dawning sun-a streak of orange rising gently over the rim of the hills.

T’Challa hyper senses caught the new aura that formed around his life partner. She was experiencing a physical and spiritual connection with Earth that yoga mystics in India and Buddha priests only dreamed of. The oneness she gained with the Earth rejuvenated her tired body.

It was only eight hours ago that she had returned to Wakanda after being on another arduous mission with her mutant team mates-the X Men. Upon her arrival home, the wind rider had slept next to him. All the while he heard the beats of her powerful heart and her gentle breathing. In those moments, he thought how fortunate the world was to have her in it. She was one of the most down to Earth, truthful, and charismatic persons he had ever known. She saw through the veneer of his seeming invincibility and saw a man who had been alone at the top of the world.

After Ororo had awakened they went out in the forest that bordered their home. That’s where Ororo replenished her life force.

So T’Challa was staring at her all the time as her transformation from a tired body to a fully charged one continued.

Then she was finished and the mistress of the weather turned to him with her solid white eyes and equally white hair. She walked unhurriedly over to him. He motioned to put the robe back on her angular body, but she gently refused it by pushing back his hands. Then she kissed him.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

T’Challa kissed back passionately and held her in his strong arms. He could feel the aura- taste it even. Soon they melted lovingly into each other and just as Ororo had joined with mind, body and soul with the Earth so did she become one with her husband.

Sabra’s call came shortly after the couple had returned to the house and were in their bedroom. Both their kimoyoes had rung and T’Challa took the call.

“There’s no one on the line,” he said to Ororo.

“Let’s trace it then,” she suggested.

Then they dressed. The wind rider fitted into her old white suit. T’Challa noticed the change in attire since recently she had opted for a black and gold uniform for missions. He liked it because the style complemented her eyes and hair.

“You look good in it,” commented T’Challa.

“Thought I would use it on this occasion,” said Ororo.

T’Challa suited up in the honorary Black Panther uniform. The attire did more than provide body armour it symbolized his heritage and the nation of Wakanda. He then magnetized the sword-he constructed from twin time space computers and dark force energy- to his back.

He looked at Ororo. “Ready?”

“Yes,” she replied and stood next to him. She was slightly shorter than T’Challa who was six feet tall.

Then T’Challa told the sword to transport them to the Defence Division. Immediately the sword obeyed and teleported the couple to the destination.

At the Defence Division they traced the call via satellites to the Jordan desert and then used reconnaissance satellites to view the specific area.

“Looks like nothing’s there,” said T’Challa.

“We should take a closer look,” stated Ororo.

“All right.”

Then the couple teleported to the site. A short burst of golden light appeared next to Hashim’s body. Then T’Challa and Ororo emerged from the light. The couple scanned the vicinity before they approached Hashim’s body. T’Challa hyper sense of smell picked up both the scents of Sabra and an assassin he had defeated years ago. The assassin also had the moniker Arabian Knight.

Ororo looked at the footprints left in the earth. There were the small unmistakable signs of a woman being at the site previously. Then Ororo went to Hashim and lowered herself next to him. She took out the phone from his hand and saw that a message was on the screen addressed to her.

“T’Challa,” she said, “some one left a recording.”

“There’s something else,” he said. “The assassin that attacked us the day I proposed to you was here.”

“There was a woman here also,” stated Ororo.

T’Challa walked over and stood above Hashim. He recognized the fallen man from the secret service files on the region. The files had also stated that  a section of the Arab League of nations were dissatisfied with the warrior’s service thus they created their own Arabian Knight to do their bidding.

T’Challa recalled that the imposter Arabian Knight was a less skilled warrior than the original. But what T’Challa saw of Hashim’s present condition was the work a greatly improved and devastating fighter.

“This is not the same guy I fought so long ago,” thought T’Challa.

“We have to get him to the infirmary,” said Ororo as she watched the severity of Hashim’s wounds. “We’ll check out the message later.”

“Okay,” said T’Challa and he then commanded the time space computers on the hilt of his sword.

Moments later, the sword returned the rescuers to Wakanda. Hashim was quickly placed in a medical bay at the Defence division. Then Ororo and T’Challa went to the situation room where they played the message.

Sabra’s face appeared on the screen. She was twenty-nine years old. Curly brown hair reached down from her head and touched her shoulders. Her nose was small and her eyes were big.

“I know her,” said Ororo. “She operated at the X Corporation branch in Paris before it was bombed. I don’t know what became of her ever since.”

“I’ll run a scan on her,” said T’Challa.

Sabra got straight to the point in her message. Her voice was sad and concerned, “Ororo. The man lying here is Navid Hashim-the Arabian Knight and the top operative for the Arab League of Nations. About thirty minutes ago I received a distress call from him and I tracked it to this current location.

I’m  unable to verify who attacked him and for what reason. Hence I was reluctant to hand him over to his own people and my own would have exploited him for information. So I’m giving him to you in the hope that you’ll have success in finding out the reason for this attack. Please do not try to contact me, as it will further complicate matters. Thanks.” Then the message ended.

Ororo folded her arms loosely. “We’ll have to get more information from Hashim when he wakes up. In the meantime I’ll start running a trace on the assassin,” she stated.

She remembered that the men who were in charge of the assassin at the time called him Taj.

T’Challa peeled off his mask  revealing a handsome face with a strong lower jaw and brown eyes. He was in his mid thirties while Ororo was five years younger than he was.

The door to the situation room opened and the chief officer hurried  inside. He quickly passed through the formalities and then spat out, “The Israeli superhuman headquarters and the Iraqi Desert Swords facility have both been destroyed in the last five minutes. Raw reports state that they were attacked.”

T’Challa said in his mind, “Those two events will heat up the political climate in the Middle East even further.”

Chapter Three

Three hours passed of listening to the secret messages being transmitted through the Middle East region to Britain, France, Russia and America. All the secret services of the world powers were busy updating their respective governments. From what the couple gathered the secret groups were clueless as to the reason the headquarters were attacked.

Ororo was worried about Sabra in particular. There was little news out of Mossad about their premier superhuman.

“I hope she is all right,” thought Ororo.

Then T’Challa and Ororo were alerted that Hashim had regained consciousness although his body was still badly damaged-several broken bones and organs. He was surprised to be in Wakanda, yet grateful that Sabra had sent him there.

“She truly is amazing,” he thought. It also made him reexamine that he might have feelings for the woman even though she was on the other side of the fence that  kept their region in turmoil.

He had taken time off his work once to search his soul with  regards to their friendship and the insights it had created in him. He came back to the Arabian League service later with the personal mandate to stop those on his side that were opposed to the peace process. It was a far difficult task than he imagined.

“What can you tell us about who attacked you?” inquired T’Challa.

“Taj,” said Hashim. “He killed one of my colleagues and left a coded message for me on the victim. It was a trick. I went to the place that the message indicated and got teleported to the Jordan desert. There I met him. As we were fighting he mentioned something vaguely about Magog and Gog. I don’t really remember much as our battle was intense.”

“Magog and Gog?” asked Ororo since she was familiar with names that she heard as a street urchin in Cairo.

“The creatures that burst out of a high priest of Egypt when the Israelites escaped from the lands. My ancestor was given the weapons to defeat the monsters by three magicians. He succeeded and entombed the beasts. He was the first Arabian Knight,” explained Hashim. “Their statues are suppose to be in the Kud Mountain side in Eastern Egypt.”

T’Challa had listened attentively and made some decisions. “The chief operators of Taj need to be visited.”

Ororo also had some thoughts on the situation especially the Egypt aspect. “I’ll check out those statues, in the meantime you get some rest,” she said to Hashim.

He looked at her, “Can I get in contact in with Sabra?”

“She said it wouldn’t be wise,” said Ororo. “And also her base was attacked. We aren’t sure where she is right now.”

“Oh,” he said dejectedly.

Ororo sensed the disappointment in his voice. “He likes her,” thought Ororo.

There were no further questions that T’Challa and Ororo had for Hashim so they left him. Then they received unconfirmed reports that Iran’s hidden superhuman programme was attacked and destroyed.

“Someone is systematically eliminating the region’s powerhouses,” said Ororo.

“We have to find out the reason behind it before this thing escalates further,” stated T’Challa.

Ten minutes later, Ororo took a mini jet and headed for Egypt while T’Challa went to the Halla emirate-the ruler was one of the men who had conspired to kill him.

Chapter Four

Ororo arrived at daybreak. The feet of the Kud Mountain was littered with tents from an archaeological dig site. She landed the invisible jet a safe distance away and then she put on a disguise- a wig, shades, a camera and tourist clothes. The skin on the jet was made from Wakanda’s “light bending” technology, which gave the illusion of invisibility. Thus when Ororo alighted from the plane it appeared that she came out of thin air.

She walked into the camp and caught the attention of a helper. She spoke in Arabic and she learnt that the Magog and Gog statues were removed from the mountainside by an archaeological company.

“From where?” asked Ororo.

“Central Cairo,” answered the helper and he gave the name of the company.

Ororo thanked the helper and she left in the jet for Cairo. She did a search for the company’s address on the computer and found it. She contacted the Wakanda secret service in Cairo and told him to meet her outside the city.

The Triumphant City came into her sights after ten minutes. As an orphaned pickpocket she had known the Egyptian capital from its other name al-Qahirah.

Ororo parked the jet in a secluded area outside and then the agent drove her into the city. Memories of Cairo and its alley ways flooded her mind. She remembered the house where her parents died when a fighter jet had crashed into it.

As her father was an African American his body was returned to the United States while her Kenyan mother was sent to Kenya.

“But I fell through the cracks in the system,” thought Ororo. “Ideally I would have been placed in an orphanage until my relatives from the States or Kenya came to collect me, but that never happened. I ended up on the streets until I was taken in by the Master Thief of Cairo himself.”

Sadness came on Ororo as she thought about her parents and the fact that having been buried in the rubble with their bodies had left her scarred with claustrophobia.

Ororo rocked back her head in the back of the car and pondered on a decision. “Should I visit the place where my life first changed?” she wondered.

Sharply she rose from the seat and leaned forward to the driver’s shoulder. “Swing by Roshdy Basha.” she said. And she told him the exact location of the house.

Soon the car was cruising pass the site of the accident. A new apartment building had been erected. She remembered playing in the room and her mother cooking. Satisfied Ororo told the driver to continue to the address of the company.

As the business opening hours were nine o’clock in the morning, Ororo took the time to walk about the streets while the driver waited. She wondered about the other street children she had associated with in those days. As a younger woman she had met one of her fellow street pirates but the fate of the rest was a mystery.

Unconsciously Ororo strolled to the street where she first met Professor Charles Xavier. She had picked his pocket and scurried away. But then she heard his voice in her head. It was a warm, soft and caring voice. At the time she had never heard about mutants much more telepaths. He had allowed her to escape with the prize even though he had the power to take it back.

It was a brief incident that would impact the rest of her life as Xavier kept a track of her until he recruited her into his X Men.

Ororo smiled at the memory.

She spent the rest of the time waiting at a breakfast cafe.

The proprietor of the company arrived at quarter to nine to open the business. Just as Ororo returned to the car.

She pretended to be an investor from South Africa interested in starting an archaeological dig in Petoria. The proprietor was an Egyptian but he informed her that the main person in charge was in Qatar.

“That’s too bad, but could I get his number,” inquired Ororo.

Her charm and alluring beauty mesmerized the proprietor so he obliged. Then she inquired about the Magog and Gog statues.

“He took them to Qatar,” said the man.

“Okay and thank you,” Ororo said in Arabic.

Afterwards Ororo left Egypt and she went for Qatar. She contacted T’Challa.

“How are things on your end?” she asked.

“I just fought a creature from my past,” he replied while breathing heavily.

Ororo’s concern was raised. “I’ll pick you up.”

Chapter Five

The emirate was one of four others who were trying to spread their monetary influence in Africa. However T’Challa’s secret service had indicated that the emirates were involved in funding terrorism. Hence he had covertly warned several African states that they shouldn’t be associated with the emirates. T’Challa believed that was the reason he was targeted for assassination.

He teleported directly into the emirate’s house. Satellite imagery had showed that the emirate was seated near his poolside surrounded by bodyguards. Yet T’Challa simply appeared and snatched the man from his chair and they both disappeared. Leaving the guards dismayed.

T’Challa dropped the emirate ruler unceremoniously on the barren earth. The man looked around while screaming, “Help, help.”

Soon he realized that they were in the middle of no where. He watched at T’Challa as if he was facing an executioner.

“You finally came to kill me,” said the emirate ruler. He was slowly becoming less hysterical.

“No,” said T’Challa frankly. “I could have done that long ago.”

Instead of assassinating the emirates T’Challa had ruined them internationally by leaking their underworld activities.

“Then what do you want?” asked the shaken ruler.

“Tell me about Taj.”

“I don’t know what became of him. He vanished after you shamed him,” replied the ruler.

“That’s all you’ve got to tell me. You were his chief operator surely you know something more.”

“I swear,” insisted the man.

T’Challa stared intensely into the ruler’s eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

Then he detached the sword from his back. That caused a fright in the man. T’Challa took a step forward. The man cowered.

“There was a rumor,” blurted out the ruler.

“About what?”

“People who saw him said he looked and acted different. He was still dangerous but his aura had changed, it was greater,” answered the man quickly.

T’Challa sought more background on Taj. He was told that the assassin’s ancestry went as far back to the fall of Atlantis. As a youth he had briefly lived in Palestine and he then moved to Saudi Arabia.

T’Challa realized that there was nothing more he could get out of the ruler. He rested the sword on his back and made to pick up the man.

There was an atmospheric change in the immediate area-sudden high winds and a gathering of thunderclouds. Then there was the sound of a horse galloping towards the two men. T’Challa stood tall and peered in all directions yet he didn’t see the animal. He could only hear it.

Suddenly appearing out of the air was a red horse. Its rider was a creature T’Challa recognized from an altercation with the Ku Klux Clan in America.

“It couldn’t be,” thought T’Challa as he remembered being dragged with a rope of supernatural fire around his neck.

He looked at the horse and there they were ropes of fire that acted as reins and bridal around the animal’s head. The beast’s eyes were yellow marbles.

The rider carried a short fiery trident in his right hand. He had on ancient battle armour and a war helmet.

The horse circled T’Challa twice-it seemed to barely touch the ground. The emirate ruler was scared stiff.

Slowly the horse lost momentum and stopped a few yards from T’Challa. The rider stared at the man he had fought on a damp night in the Deep South of the United States. It was a different time and place then. At that point in history he thrived on the fear that existed in that place. But since those agents of fear had been destroyed he had sought new grounds that would nourish his need to feed on hatred and terror. He was not going to allow T’Challa or any other threats endanger that.

The Rider pointed the trident at T’Challa.

“Human once more you have crossed my path,” said the Rider.

T’Challa withdrew his sword. The nanorobots that sheathed the dark force energy blade disappeared into the hilt.

“I can say the same about you,” said T’Challa still baffled by the Rider’s appearance.

The Rider pointed the trident at the stunned man sitting on the ground. “Rise. You have provided me with much sustenance therefore I shall not let any harm fall upon you.”

The man began standing.

T’Challa had an inkling of what was meant by the Rider’s use of the word “sustenance” and the activities the ruler was linked to. Nevertheless T’Challa rested his hand heavily on the man’s shoulder and shoved him back down.

Enraged the Rider struck his heels into the horse and the animal propelled towards T’Challa. The Rider’s trident aimed at the Black Panther.

T’Challa activated the claws in his left hand while he blocked the attack with his sword. He then grabbed the Rider with his left hand and pulled him off the horse. Something occurred incidentally that T’Challa was late on noticing. His sword had sliced off a majority of the trident.

The Rider had realized his primary weapon was destroyed hence he turned to his alternative. As he slid off the horse and bared the pain of the claws in his side, the Rider summoned a rope of fire from his free hand and it quickly formed a noose around T’Challa’s neck.

The noose tightened and T’Challa began choking. He adjusted his sword hand and then he thrust the weapon into the Rider. There was a cry of pain. Yet the Rider relentlessly kept the pressure on the noose.

T’Challa pulled out the sword from the Rider and he cut the rope in two. The Rider countered by placing his right first finger on T’Challa’s fore head.

“Dream of your worst fear,” muttered the creature.

Suddenly T’Challa became still-the spell was working. The Rider rose from the ground and covered the wound at his side with a hand. He staggered to the horse and climbed onto it.

The emirate ruler rushed to his feet and went to the Rider. “Take me out of here,” he begged.

The Rider obliged although he was significantly wounded by T’Challa’s attack. A fire rope extended out of the creature’s hand and it lifted up the man. Then the horse galloped forward and disappeared into the air.

On the ground T’Challa remained silent. Inside his mind he saw Wakanda being destroyed and he was powerless to stop it. And the destruction of his beloved country was due to his fault. It was his greatest fear to once again bring that amount of  suffering to his people.

He underwent the torment for hours, yet his mind battled to regain control. Eventually it did and he snapped out of the nightmare. He awakened to find himself alone. Then the call came from Ororo.

Chapter Six

T’Challa settled in the co pilot seat after explaining the confrontation.

“I felt like my soul was being strangled at the same time,” stated T’Challa.

“A Soul Strangler. There are all sorts of entities working in the background,” commented Ororo. Then she kissed him and afterwards she resumed flying the jet.

T’Challa began reading on the console the information Ororo had gathered. Then he turned side long to Ororo. “How was Cairo?”

She leaned back in the pilot chair. “I visited the apartment and checked out a few haunts.”

T’Challa sensed it was a deeply emotional experience for her especially since the Middle East conflicts were attributable to the fighter jet crashing into the parents’ apartment. Then he noticed a change in her from introspection to curiosity. She  leaned across and rested her elbow on his shoulder.

“Why didn’t you choose a side in the conflict?” she asked.

“Just never did,” he answered straightforwardly.

“Maybe we should get involved,” said Ororo. “This turmoil is what got my parents killed and God knows a lot of innocent people have suffered on both sides.”

“I see what you mean,” said T’Challa and he then leaned over and kissed her comfortingly on the lips.

A message from the secret service appeared on the main computer screen. It stated that an anonymous video message was delivered to the Arabian satellite television. Then the message was played for T’Challa and Ororo.

Taj’s face appeared. He was in his late thirties. The beard was shaven into a single bar under the lower lip. His hair was shaven down. The eyes were big and brown.

“To the leaders of the nations in the region dubbed the Middle East, the time has come for peace. Over the last several hours, my associates and I have robbed your militaries of their greatest assets namely the superhumans and nuclear warheads,” said Taj in a commanding voice.

The video image shifted to a scene of nuclear warheads inside an undisclosed location.

Taj continued, “The twenty six warheads were seized from Iran and Israel combined. These countries will not confirm or deny this, but it is true.

My proposal is simple. I want a Middle East peace plan deal signed and put into operation within the next seventy-two hours. Else we will start eliminating those who stand in the way of peace-peace for our children and their children. Enough is enough. The perpetual violence must come to an end. If we see no action-taking place in the next hour then the culling will begin.

No politician or militant leader is safe. If we can destroy your most powerful weapons imagine what we can do to you.”

The message ended.

“That crazy bastard,” thought T’Challa.

“Twenty six nuclear warheads,” commented Ororo. “I wonder what he’ll do with them.”

“Who knows. But we have to find him before anyone else does.”

“Do you think his plan will work? I certainly don’t believe it will.”

“Neither do I,” responded T’Challa. “They’ll brand him a terrorist. With those nukes at his disposal the UN and the world superpowers will be searching these lands thoroughly. The Avengers and MI 13 may even be brought in. War Machine might even be on his way as we speak.”

“I’m sure he counted on that,” said Ororo and she watched the grotesque images of Magog and Gog on her console screen.

“Where do they fit in this scheme?” she asked herself.

The plane was entering Qatar airspace. “If we can’t find anything concrete on the statues then we’ll start looking for the warheads,” said Ororo.

T’Challa agreed.

Chapter Seven

The warehouse was on the outskirts of Doha, the capital of Qatar. The building was innocuous and three trailer trucks were in the parking area. Spy satellites showed six human bodies within the warehouse. They were evenly spaced out but all were on the front ground level.

T’Challa and Ororo planned their entry and then executed it. Ororo mentally caused the creation of an electro magnetic pulse that blanketed the warehouse and it shut down all electronic devices.

Within moments, T’Challa sliced through the right wall with his sword and he rammed himself against it, pushing down the impediment. Therefore he came upon the surprised group. Taj was one of them.

Ororo broke through the left side of the warehouse with lightening from her hands. And she flew in majestically on the thermal wind currents she manipulated.

Taj and his associates wore civilian clothes, but the kind that secret service operatives used when on a mission- all black coats, tee shirts, trousers and boots. There was one woman in the group. Her eyes were glowing.

Taj raised a hand to her to stop whatever she was prepared to do. “Hold on,” he said calmly, “I know these two.”

He surveyed the faces of the other comrades. Two of them were Arabic and the others were Israeli.

Ororo used her vantage point in the air to scan the warehouse. She spotted the opened containers that contained the Magog and Gog statues. Then she tried to pick up any hint of radioactivity in the building but there was none.

“Where are the warheads?” Ororo demanded.

Taj watched at her and he remembered seeing the wind rider on the day he attempted to assassinate T’Challa.

“In a safe place,” he answered.

T’Challa broke in. “Taj your plan is not going to work.”

The reformed man looked calmly at the Black Panther. “It will succeed. There are people in all the regional governments who secretly back me. You see the peace progress required someone to push the envelope.”

T’Challa gave the man a hard stare. “What happened to you? When we first encountered you were-”

“A common thug,” interrupted Taj. “I was the lowest of lows. That’s why I have a respect for you T’Challa. The defeat you handed me shattered my ego. I literally  built myself back up and I went through a metamorphosis and this is the man that stands before you today.

But tell me something. What would you do in my stead if faced with constant wars, leaders dragging their feet, territorial disputes, weapons stockpiling and human suffering?”

“I’ve been there before,” answered T’Challa. “And you have been blinded. You are killing the innocent in the process. Hashim for instance.”

“Ah, Hashim. I know that he is a liberal soul. But too an extent. He would never condone the plan even if I offered him to join. So I had to take him out the equation like I did Magog and Gog. I told him so,” stated Taj.

“Before you tried to kill him,” said Ororo.

Taj glanced at her. “I had no intention of killing him. I wanted him wounded badly enough that he posed no threat to the operation,” retorted Taj. “So what will it be? Will the two of you leave? Let bygones be bygones.”

“As long as there are rogue nukes out there, we can’t simply walk away,” said Ororo.

“A pity,” said Taj.

Chapter Eight

Ororo reacted quicker than Taj’s associates did. She fired electrical bolts into the five combatants. Three fell but the other two were immune to the attack.

Ororo saw that Taj had opened his coat and took out two swords. Then he and T’Challa began trading blows with their weapons.

Nevertheless  Ororo concentrated on the two combatants who were staring angrily at her.

“How did they survive?” she muttered.

The first combatant revealed the answer. He had transformed into a diamond body. But Ororo had an idea of how to handle that challenge.

The second combatant flew at her fiercely. She dodged out the way and attempted to create a whirlwind around the man. But it didn’t work.

“By that puzzle look on your face I guess you don’t what’s wrong with your powers,” said the man. “Let me tell you. Mutants can’t harm me.”

He shot down like a cannonball at Ororo knocking her towards the ground. She fell hard. The diamond combatant was on his way to land a telling blow to her face.

Quickly, Ororo struck out her right leg and in a sweeping motion she tripped the man.

“I have to get rid of him,” she thought.

The wind rider summoned thermal air currents that lifted her and the diamond combatant out of the warehouse. The other combatant pursued.

Then Ororo saw the weapon she needed. It was a long metal rod attached to the side of one of the trailer trucks. Ororo slammed the diamond man into the parking lot. Then she used hot plasma energy from her fingertips to cut off an arm length of the rod.

The flying attacker was gaining on her. So she grabbed the rod and spun around striking the man squarely in the face. He backed away.

Then Ororo cut another length of the rod. She looked at the diamond man who was trying to stand. Ororo lifted him up with a strong gust that lashed him against the warehouse.

Then the wind rider concentrated on a massive pressure dome and she threw the first rod like a javelin at the diamond man. The pressure dome added to the force of the rod and the metal went straight through the diamond’s man upper right shoulder; pinning him to the wall. Ororo repeated the feat with the second rod, hitting the man’s left shoulder.

The man cursed at her.

The other combatant attempted to free him.

“No you don’t,” thought Ororo.

She charged and collided into the flying combatant. In the process she utilized a martial arts move she had learnt about pressure points on the upper human body. She deadened a nerve in the man’s neck with a hard karate chop. The attack paralyzed him temporarily and Ororo struck him downward and he landed with a thud on the asphalt.

Then she returned inside the warehouse.

Chapter Nine

T’Challa was losing blood at a rapid rate. Taj’s swords were able to withstand the dark force energy blade and penetrate the vibranium laced Black Panther body armour. The wounds Taj had inflicted in a short period of time were precise and deliberate.

T’Challa took a step back to rethink his strategy. Taj had parried all his attacks with one sword while the other did the damage. And furthermore T’Challa realized what was different about Taj’s fighting ability on this occasion.

“He fights as though he is at peace. When we first clashed he was all power and fury. That’s why it was so easy to read his moves. But the calmness he displays hides all his intentions,” thought T’Challa.

Nonetheless the Black Panther had a plan. He charged into Taj expecting the reformed man to block the attack with one sword and strike with the other. It occurred but this time T’Challa struck at an angle that allowed him to somersault over Taj.

In mid air, T’Challa grabbed Taj’s face with his free hand and pulled the man backwards as he landed. With Taj arching backward, T’Challa had the opportunity to attack the man’s sword hands. He clipped the handles with his blade forcing Taj to drop the weapons.

T’Challa could have killed Taj then and there by using the claws in the gloves to tear into the man’s face. But he did not. The unorthodox hold also meant that Taj’s neck would break if he struggled.

“Enough,” said T’Challa authoritatively.

“All right,” Taj managed to say.

T’Challa believed him. He gradually released Taj and the man stood properly.

“You’ve beaten me again,” he said while straightening his coat.

“Return the missiles. You can’t hold the region to ransom,” said T’Challa.

“I still don’t agree.”

Suddenly T’Challa heard the galloping of a horse.

“Him again,” muttered T’Challa.

There was an explosion of fire like a portal directly next to T’Challa and Taj. The Soul Strangler rushed out with a flaming noose in one hand.

“There you are,” he said.

T’Challa thought it was him and attempted to dodge. But it was Taj the creature was after. It captured the man around the neck and yanked hard on the flaming rope. Taj gasped.

Another portal of fire emerged in front of the Soul Strangler and the red horse leapt into it before T’Challa reacted. Then the gateway closed.

“Taj,” shouted T’Challa.

Ororo came overhead. “What’s the matter. Where is he?”

“The Soul Strangler took him,” replied T’Challa.

“Are they working together?”

“It does not appear so.”

Ororo sensed that T’Challa had developed an admiration for Taj and was disappointed that the man was taken.

“He might be even be dead by now,” thought Ororo as she landed next to T’Challa.

She looked at the other combatants. “How do we treat with them?”

“We’ll give them to the International Criminal Court,” said T’Challa and he felt weakened from his wounds.

Soon he and Ororo returned to Wakanda and they informed the international community that Taj no longer posed a threat but the warheads were still missing. And T’Challa vowed to get the Soul Strangler.

Chapter Ten

Sabra was conflicted. There was the struggle between her emerging feelings for Hashim and her national duty.

She looked aimlessly around the underground bunker the government had placed her in. She had missed the attack on the superhuman headquarters when she was aiding Hashim.

However her superiors were suspicious as to the reason she went AWOL while the country was being attacked. That forced her to reveal the secret to a superior she trusted. But he said something that bothered her.

“Don’t you think he may be involved in the attack. By drawing you out. Our most powerful asset, the headquarters was left exposed to that level of attack. Sometimes you have to think with your mind and not with the heart,” the superior had said.

Nevertheless he promised to keep the reason for the AWOL a secret.

The notion that Hashim tricked her made Sabra angry. And she wanted to see him to get the truth. Still there was no way of getting in contact with Ororo. The country was on a war footing and she was to remain out of sight until needed. Moreso she was the country’s last functioning superhuman weapon.

Meanwhile in Wakanda, Hashim was worried about Sabra’s safety. Not knowing if the person who had saved him was even alive made him sad. T’Challa had told him the Israeli government were not giving out any details about the status of their superhumans.

“God help her,” he whispered. “Wherever she is.”

Chapter Eleven

Baron Zorba surveyed the twenty-six nuclear warheads while the Soul Strangler looked on.

The Baron was six foot four, in formidable physical shape and was in his mid forties. He stood watching the weapons as he planned the scheme to use them.

Suddenly he broke the silence, “Today I watched the kings of the Earth when this incident occurred. They made speeches and threats. They were full of themselves. I will humble them.”

The Soul Strangler smiled. “I knew you could be counted on. Do as much damage as you can,” he said.

“Oh I intend to. The first warhead should go off by this time tomorrow,” said the Baron calmly.

“I’ll be waiting,” said the Soul Strangler and he vanished like a ghost.

He emerged from a portal in the dimension called Limbo. The sky was in a constant twilight and the landscape was barren and rocky.

The Soul Strangler turned to his prisoner, Taj. The man was tied with burning ropes to a stone post. His face was bloodied from the punches it had received from the Soul Strangler.

“I found the weapons,” said the creature. “And one of my servants shall use them to rain down terror on the Earth.”

Next Story: Kings of the Earth Part I

 

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Black Panther and Storm in Blade Ultimatum

Previously in The Black Panther and Storm:

For over ten thousand years warrior kings called Black Panthers ruled and protected the isolated and unconquerable African nation Wakanda. In their isolation Wakanda became the most scientifically advanced nation on Earth. T’Challa was the latest Black Panther, and he believed that his great nation was obligated to use its resources to help the less fortunate; defenseless peoples of the world against tyranny, corruption, and megalomaniac super humans.

Black Panther later married Ororo ‘Storm’ Munroe the extraordinary mutant heroine.

Story: Blade Ultimatum

Eric “Blade” Brooks felt selfish as he lay near the sleeping woman. The reason was that the time he spent trying to be human meant another vampire killed an innocent person and he was not there to prevent it. That guilt had weighed on him for weeks.

He turned side long to the woman. Should he tell her what he was feeling? The thought didn’t even sound right to him. More than that, she may think that he was leaving her again.

Blade gently removed Jacqueline “Spitfire” Crichton’s arm that rested lazily on his chest and he slipped out the bed. He watched her profile in the sheets. She was slender, with light brown hair and apparently in her mid thirties. In reality she was over sixty, the vampire aspect of her had slowed down the ageing.

Blade had the same blessing in that he was a hundred years old, but didn’t look a day over thirty-five. He had an athletic build and tattoos at the back of his head and arms.

He left the bedroom and in twenty minutes he was dressed in a black tee shirt, body armour vest, leather combat trouser and boots. He was prepared for another long day at the MI 13 military facility.

Lastly he sat at a table, strapped his arm and bit down on a belt. Then he inserted a serum into his arm and it abated his thirst for consuming blood. Blade winced and his body shook as the silver and garlic potion worked through his system. He bit down harder on the belt as the experience prolonged.

Then it gradually stopped. He took the straps from his arm and placed the miniature serum syringe in the lining of his black trench coat.

He looked at Spitfire again. She had control over her vampirism so she didn’t have the thirst for blood. Ordinarily vampires needed the blood because their bodies stopped producing the blood cells in large quantities.

His thoughts returned to the situation of staying in London with the MI 13 team and his team mate Spitfire. There was no doubt that he was needed on the paranormal strike force for the big cases. Like the one they were presently on.

“Petra,” Blade muttered as he walked into the living room and headed for the window.

The woman he spoke of was a new kind of vampire and she was one of several. From the questionings it was determined that the rest formed a hidden colony.

The case had a deeper meaning for Blade in that Petra and the others like her shared his DNA along with Dracula the Vampire Lord. The revelation led Blade back to Nicholas Fury the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Since it was under that organisation that a project called Silvereye was started for combining Blade’s and Dracula’s DNA to form a super life form.

Blade was staring out the window blinds while reflecting on his investigation with Fury.

“We thought that the program was shut down, but someone copied the files and the doctor behind it disappeared,” Blade said to himself. “Which leaves us with finding out the clues from Petra.”

Blade gave a slight disappointed expression. For Petra despite having a twenty year old appearance was actually a child. The psychologist brought into to examine her said that the vampire had the psyche of a five or six year old.

Blade blew out some air as he thought about the information. “Here’s a vampire immune to sunlight, garlic and silver and with the ability to manipulate the weather elements and she’s only a child. A child that craves human blood.”

Blade paused as he took in the dawning London City. The apartment had a view of the colossal Canary Wharf Tower and the solemn St Paul’s Cathedral. A double decked bus passed on the street below.

The he continued his thoughts. “Too bad Prof. X is unavailable to telepathically probe Petra’s mind. And I have to get more nanities from T’Challa and Ororo.”

He considered the Wakanda leaders as his friends and he had only met Professor Charles Xavier recently. They all had played a part in the apprehension of Petra.

Blade moved from the window and he surveyed the living room. On one table were pictures of Spitfire, her deceased son, a MI 13 group photo and him. A large frame picture hung nearby on the wall and that one showed Spitfire as a Special Forces soldier during World War II.

Blade liked her warrior spirit and steely character. However he had driven a stake through her heart when they first met, because she was another vampire to him at the time. He was a cold and indifferent person then.

Years of killing and hunting vampires had hardened him until he was practically a silent and stoic person.

Spitfire was trying to open him up. “Its like she’s doing a behavioural experiment on me,” he thought.

She had once told him that he was becoming like the monsters he hunted. That nothing else would not matter to him except the next kill.

“But what does she expect? Those monsters play by their own rules and destroy anything in their way. I have to push the boundaries as they do,” he said to himself.

There was movement outside the apartment door. The lights were off in the living room and Blade was using his night vision ability. Hence his hyper vision noticed the break in the light that was at the bottom of the door. The light that had been coming from outside.

Then Blade sensed its presence, a half vampire like himself outside of the door. A kindred spirit. But was it a friend or a foe.

Chapter

The door was kicked in and it fell off the hinges. A tall and solidly built man stood in the doorframe. He wore a black trench coat and body armour. The eyes were on fire. Short black hair lay on his head. And in his hand was an automatic handgun. The barrel pointed at Blade. Hypnotically the weapon began to sing a death song.

Blade dove onto the ground to avoid the spray of bullets. His hand gun and samurai sword were in the bedroom. There was no chance of getting them in time. So he had to get the shooter.

“Distract him,” thought Blade.

Next to the Daywalker was a lamp table. He seized the item and threw it at the shooter. Simultaneously Blade rushed off the floor with his preternatural speed and headed for the shooter.

The lamp table did the trick of taking the attacker’s focus off of Blade for a fraction of a moment. As the gun fired into the table, Bladed reached the shooter. The Daywalker’s hand jammed down on the gun. The bullet spray tearing up the carpet and causing eruptions of fibres into the air. Then Blade’s elbow rammed into the assailant’s lower jaw.

The shooter countered with a sharp knee to Blade’s abdomen. Then he landed a karate chop into the side of Blade’s neck.

Yet Blade’s mind was on removing the gun from the battle. For that he had to break the opponent’s wrist. Thus Blade was swivelling on his heel until he was alongside the man and then the Daywalker was gripping and twisting the shooter’s wrist. Snap. Then a cry of pain from the attacker and the gun fell.

The attacker shot his left foot quickly into Blade’s knees. Then he head butted the Daywalker. All the while he slipped a knife from his coat and stabbed expertly between the Blade’s third and fourth ribs.

Blade was stalled slightly enough for the assailant to snap back his wrist in place. Then the opponents eyed each other like clashing tigers.

“Who are you?” asked Blade.

“Rapier,” he replied with a European accent.

Blade studied that the commotion would have awakened Spitfire. “She’ll be joining the fight soon and he must have already known that she was here. Is he really that foolish to take on both of us at the same time?” wondered Blade. “Then again, he might have thought catching us off guard would be advantageous.”

He felt the knife wound healing rapidly and he slowly geared into an attacking posture.

“What’s this about?” asked Blade since he was not familiar with the assailant.

“Me killing you,” stated Rapier acidly.

As he spoke Blade saw the man’s pointed fangs. Most likely he was born a half-human, half vampire like Blade. But there was no time to dwell on the assumption.

Spitfire, in an oversize sweater, was at the edge of the room behind Rapier. It would not be long until she was in the fray. Blade saw her and he guessed Rapier also sensed it.

“Explain yourself,” said Blade.

“You’re going to die by my hands. That’s all you need to know,” said Rapier and he grinned devilishly.

Suddenly Spitfire disappeared from Blade’s sight. The type of vampirism she had allowed her a running speed that even Blade had trouble tracking.

Then Blade noticed that Rapier was kicking backwards. The attacker caught Spitfire in her stomach, and she fell back hard against the wall. Causing the hanging picture frame to fall.

Blade sprang from his position with a flying kick. His right boot striking the target in the chest. Rapier recoiled as the Daywalker landed in front of him. In raw fury, Blade delivered a series high and low kicks at Rapier’s torso.

The assailant was equal to each thrust of the foot and he matched them with quick blocks. Unknowingly he was being edged to the window.

Then Rapier saw an opportunity to strike with his knife. He parried a kick and went straight for blade’s heart. The adamantium knife would cut through the armour with ease.

Yet Blade caught the danger and held Rapier’s arm. Still the assassin adjusted and he dropped the knife into his free hand. As the angle for the heart penetration was gone, Rapier aimed for the throat.

As the metal pierced his neck, Blade pushed forward, locking Rapier’s head and then turning it sharply until he heard the cracking of the spine.

In an animalistic death grip, Rapier held onto Blade and spun both of them through the window.

Blade snatched the edge of the window while Rapier fell to the street. The assailant fixed his head and then he ran off.

The Daywalker heard Spitfire’s voice. She was at the windowsill and telling him to hang on. He felt the blade of the knife that had gone completely through his neck.

With Spitfire’s assistance he returned to the apartment and he removed the knife. Then the strangest thing occurred. The phone began ringing non-stop. Spitfire ignored it as she tended to Blade. Then the voice machine came on and an excited male voice blared through the phone. It was Pete Wisdom, the head of MI 13.

“Spitfire, Blade, we have a break through with Petra. You need to come down here immediately.”

One Week Later

Chapter

Ororo performed a spinning dive from 25 thousand feet in the air. Her white hair flowing freely on the winds and her arms were held out. Below her was an alien landscape that was finally at peace after decades of war. A conflict she had once been part of.

Mimicking Ororo’s manoeuvre was C’jime. He was a large dragon like creature with a canine face.

Ororo felt her friend’s presence. “Trying to keep up?” asked Ororo.

“Very soon I’ll be too old for this,” remarked C’jime in a husky voice.

“Then savour the moment,” said Ororo while twirling downwards. She thought about her age which was thirty and how old C’jime must had been when she met him in her youth.

Watching on at Ororo and C’jime were T’Challa and Mirin. The observers stood on the deck of the royal flying ship.

“I still can’t thank you enough for giving me a chance to see her again,” said Mirin.

“She speaks highly of you,” said T’Challa.

He glanced at the queen. She was old yet the grey eyes said there was more life inside of her. Green robes covered her body and a jewelled crown rested on her head.

“It’s a shame that these are the last hours of your visit,” commented Mirin.

“We’ll be back, hopefully,” said T’Challa.

He was a thirty five-year-old man. His body was at human physical peak coupled with hyper senses. He was dressed in causal Wakandan attire yet he carried his sword. The two gold seals on the hilt were actually time space computers. The blade was made from dark force energy, which was sheathed by nano robots.

T’Challa studied the aged warrior queen again. She walked slowly and carefully every where she went. But Ororo had told him that Mirin had been an energetic soul. Leading her troops against an adversary that was her own flesh and blood.

“Ororo is truly an extraordinary woman. I knew it from the moment we met,” said Mirin.

“Indeed she is,” confirmed T’Challa.

He remembered that it was over dinner that Mirin had retold her first encounter with Ororo. There was a dimensional intersection, which Mirin fell through in a pond and Ororo saved her from drowning. Ororo was then transported to Mirin’s dimension.

The dinner had also provided Ororo an opportunity to tell her full story to Mirin. The wind rider highlighted that she came from a centuries old line of Kenyan women who manipulated the weather. In the modern age she was considered a mutant and an outcast of society. Her deceased father was an African American from New York.

Mirin had even inquired on how Ororo met T’Challa.

“We met as teenagers and kept in touch as adults even spending time together,” answered Ororo. “I even had to join in stopping him from going to war with another nation.”

Then Mirin heard T’Challa’s story. That he was the descendant of warrior kings. And he had gone from using his skills in protecting solely his nation to defending the entire Earth. Although the suspicions his isolated nation garnered from the world had never dissipated despite his endeavours. And so, he like his nation had never been fully understood, trusted or accepted.

T’Challa’s kimoyo began ringing. He slipped the palm held super computer from his coat pocket and read the message. There was a major alert.

He looked towards where he had last seen his wife and as expected she was heading for the ship since she too had received the alert.

“What is it?” inquired Mirin.

“A national emergency,” replied T’Challa.

“As always,” commented Mirin.

A moment later, Ororo was gliding on wind currents onto the open deck. C’jime laboured behind her.

“I understand that you must go now,” said Mirin. “It’s like the last time.”

“Unfortunately it is so,” said Ororo as she embraced the queen.

“Well I won’t keep you any longer,” said Mirin as she released the woman she considered a daughter.

T’Challa also said farewell and he joined Ororo. Then the sword teleported them from that dimension to Earth.

Chapter

T’Challa and Ororo kissed inside their office at the Defence base. They then broke it off to dress in their combat suits.

“I thoroughly enjoyed that surprise get way,” said Ororo.

“Glad you did.”

“How did you reach Mirin?”

“Through the sword.”

Ororo remembered sensing shifts in the geo magnetic pulses from time to time at their home.

“I knew you were up to something,” she remarked.

“Really, I should start covering my cover tracks more better.”

“Still wouldn’t help you,” said Ororo as she rested her chin on his shoulder. “You may be able to mask your mind from telepaths but I’ll still always know what’s going on in there.”

T’Challa held her gently around the waist. “Well I got one secret right now.”

“What is it?”

“It’s where we are going on the next trip.”

“You the mean the trip after the one I’ll be planning.”

“Okay. So where are we going?” T’Challa smiled because of the news.

“That’s a secret,” Ororo replied and her enchanting blue eyes began glowing.

They the couple kissed passionately. In between T’Challa whispered, “I wonder how Umba is doing at your aunt’s house?”

“I’m sure my aunt and her nephew are getting along fine, but I’ll give them a call,” whispered Ororo. “And I think we shouldn’t keep Blade waiting too long.”

T’Challa agreed and he finally pulled his mask over his face. The rest of the body was covered in a black vibranium weave suit. Then he magnetised the sword to his back. Meanwhile Ororo straightened the shoulder strap on her gold and black suit.

The couple had spent a minute in the office to change after they returned from Mirin’s dimension.

T’Challa’s sister Shuri had called them on the request of Blade. The Daywalker had expressed that it was a severely urgent matter.

The couple had a lot of deep respect for Blade as a person and for what he did. Therefore they were not bothered by the call.

Eventually they exited the office and headed for the situation room where Blade was waiting. The couple had given him use of the secret service’s satellites. They found him viewing satellite images of a flat hovering vessel within the borders of the country Transia.

The vessel was circular and gigantic. There was no specific name given to the vessel, yet this was the place Blade was heading for.

Chapter

Blade wore shades that protected him from the vampires that went for the eyes with their long nails when attacked. The scabbard for his samurai sword ran along his back and was covered with the trench coat except for the hilt that came out an opening. Twin automatic handguns were on his belt as well as silver stakes, specialised boomerangs and small weapons.

He stated his case clearly to the Black Panther and Storm. “We got Petra to identify the environment of the vampire colony. She gave us some structures. MI 13 ran a trace and this came up. And so did a warning from the British Prime Minister Office. Apparently the vessel is off limits to the British government and her agencies because of an oil deal that was struck with Transia. They were too happy to get the deal that they didn’t think it would have mattered in the future.”

“So MI 13 can’t touch it,” commented Ororo.

“Correct,” said Blade. “So they let me go. The guy in charge never officially re instated me into the team hence I’m free to do what I want. And I’m going in there.” He pointed to the screen. “But I’ll be needing you two and those nanities.”

T’Challa held his chin. “Transia. That’s the High Evolutionary’s country.”

“Yes and he built the damn the vessel.”

“He’s been a financial benefactor to the country for years,” said Ororo. “No wonder they want to protect him.”

“And he may be behind Petra and the colony,” suggested Blade.

“Then let’s go,” said T’Challa.

Spain,

Maxoff was the head of the largest vampire clan in the world. His influence spanned major businesses and governments. His hirelings were mostly humans who wanted the privileges and status of the vampire world. These humans were called familiars and were branded with the seal of their vampire masters.

Through his familiars in the British Intelligence service he learned of Petra and the vessel in Transia. More importantly, he understood that Blade was interested in those areas.

Yet Maxoff’s curiosity on finding out the source of the new kind of vampires far outweighed his desire to see Blade dead at that point in time. Thus he took five of his bodyguards and a limousine and headed to Rapier’s home.

Rapier was a product of Maxoff’s ingenuity. “What better way to kill a half breed vampire than with another half breed,” the vampire leader said to himself. Therefore he turned a pregnant female familiar into a vampire minutes before she gave birth to a son. Just as in the case of Blade’s well documented birth.

The child was taken from the mother, trained and tutored, and his behaviour modified for the purpose of working for the vampire clan and killing Blade.

As expected, Maxoff was furious that Rapier had botched the first attempt on Blade’s life. He ordered Rapier to stay at home as a means of punishment. For the man enjoyed roaming the Earth on his free time.

The limousine stopped outside of a villa. Maxoff and his bodyguards alighted and entered the house. The interior was like a gymnasium and quiet. The visitors met Rapier training on the parallel bars.

As Maxoff watched Rapier perform the final routine, he remembered the reason for giving the child that name. It was because of the swiftness and power that the half-breed possessed.

“Rapier,” said Maxoff.

At once the man dismounted from the parallel bars. He looked at his master with resentment in his eyes.

Maxoff saw the insolence but brushed it aside. He had more important things to discuss. He withdrew a mini computer from his business jacket and threw it underhanded to Rapier.

“On it is a floating vessel above Transia. You’re to go into it, find out what’s going on and bring back something of worth,” said Maxoff with an aristocratic flair.

“What about Blade? When will I get to kill him?” asked Rapier as he caught the device.

“Blade will be on the vessel, but you are not to fight him until you bring me the information. Is that clear?”

Rapier clenched his fists and tightened his jaw. The punishment and the disrespect from Maxoff irritated him. He couldn’t even kill the master because it was programmed out of his mind to do so.

“Its clear,” he said reluctantly.

“Good. You leave immediately,” said Maxoff. “A support team will be on stand by during the mission to assist you.”

Several minutes later, Maxoff departed and Rapier prepared for the trip. He still hadn’t made up his mind if he was going to either follow orders or kill Blade on the vessel.

“I’ll see what happens,” he said inwardly.

His weapons were similar to Blade’s and he knew most of the vampire’s hunter’s combat moves and habits. Taking Blade’s life would be the pay off after years of hard training and discipline. He had been angry with himself for wasting the first opportunity.

At the time he had the element of surprise along with his youth. Now Blade knew he was lurking in the shadows.

“Nonetheless it makes things more interesting,” he thought as he sheathed his adamantium samurai sword.

An hour later, he was on a private jet bound for Transia.

Chapter

Culturally Transia didn’t cater to nightlife activities such as dance clubs and night bars. Hence by 10 p m most the citizens were indoors with their families, sleeping, listening to classic songs or on the Internet.

At quarter past ten p.m. Ororo enshrouded the floating vessel with a thick cloud band. Thereafter she along with T’Challa and Blade glided on the wind currents towards the first quadrant of the vessel. Nonetheless they were spotted and their faces scanned by the vessel.

It was pre determined that Ororo would create a breech in the hull with her plasma energy manipulation. However as she was about to conduct the action, a section of the hull opened invitingly.

“They know we are here,” said T’Challa.

“Its probably the High Evolutionary,” suggested Blade.

Ororo scanned the breech for bio electricity and there were none.

“Its clear and the pressure is stable,” she said and ventured in first.

Inside was a metal chamber. Blade detected the vampires but they were far off. Suddenly the hull resealed itself in an apparent trap.

T’Challa was thinking of the three splitting up when a hologram of a robot appeared. It had a soft purple hue with minor feminine facial features; the body was slender and was five feet eight inches tall. She faced Blade.

“Greetings Blade and company, I’m Tekka,” she said in a warm voice. “Welcome to T-Colony.”

The vampire hunter was silent and stared hatefully at the hologram. “The vampires where are they?” He lifted a gun from the holster.

Tekka watched his action keenly. “There is no need to be concerned about the vampires. They are perfectly harmless.”

“Is that what you’ll say about Petra?” asked Ororo.

Tekka turned to the woman. “You know of her.”

“She killed a number of people until we caught her. She complained that she was forced out of the colony,” stated T’Challa.

Tekka raised her hand to her chin and considered. “Well I’m sorry for the lost in lives. I accept the blame.”

“Why?” inquired Blade.

“Because it was I who made her leave the colony. She was troublesome and inciting violence within the community. That would draw attention.”

“From who?” asked Blade.

“The High Evolutionary,” replied Tekka quickly.

T’Challa walked further into the chamber. “Is he here?”

“No,” replied Tekka. “But if there is major trouble in the community then I’ll have to alert him and I don’t want that.”

Tekka’s voice gave the impression of fear. Blade walked by her and he went further in than T’Challa. The Daywalker had no sympathy for these vampires. They were too dangerous despite Tekka’s claims to the contrary.

“Wait,” pleaded the hologram. “They are innocent of whatever crimes Petra committed.”

“They are vampires,” muttered Blade as he armed the gun.

“They are children,” insisted Tekka. “Let me show you.”

The hologram’s revelation aroused curiosity in the hunting party. The three warriors shared quick glances and in a telepathic like manner agreed to hold off the charge into the colony until they saw Tekka’s information.

“All right,” said Blade as he focused on Tekka. “Show us and it better be good.”

Tekka led the team to the control room for the vessel. There were multiple seven feet high video screens, which showed human like creatures playing simple ball games or strolling with their offspring. There were lots of laughter and joy on their faces. The creatures were in spacious and interconnected rooms that were designed for various activities. And indeed the vampires acted like children even though most of them were young adults. It was almost Eden like.

“As you can see they don’t have mature brain functions. It was a safe guard that the High Evolutionary placed in the experiment.”

The assertion reminded Blade of Petra’s juvenile behaviour and manner of speech.

On the other hand, T’Challa scanned the room that was highly technological. The levels of sophistication made him think of the Techno Jungle in Wakanda. Then he pondered on Tekka’s tone of voice when she alluded to not wanting the High Evolutionary alerted. “And why did he create these vampires in the first place?” he wondered.

Meanwhile Ororo studied Tekka. “She must be an artificial intelligence computer in charge of monitoring the colony”, the wind rider thought.

“What about blood consumption?” asked Ororo.

Tekka pointed at a screen on the left. A new image appeared that showed transparent cylinders storing blood. They were in a factory setting and long tubes transported the substance like veins from the cylinders into vats.

“Cloned human blood is manufactured here and distributed throughout the community,” answered Tekka. “No humans are involved in the process. As you can see the community is harmless.”

The gaiety of the vampires had no effect on Blade. He was even more concerned about the toddlers he saw on the screens. He pointed it out to Tekka and asked, “Are they born here.”

“Yes. These vampires create others like them through procreation and not the typical bite as the other species does. I’ll give you all a tour of the nursery,” responded Tekka.

Chapter

The nursery was like a hospital maternity ward. There were rows of baby cribs on the tiled floor. All the infants were asleep. The parents were elsewhere as Tekka saw to the needs of the babies. There was an atmosphere of safety.

Tekka hoped that the scene would stir compassion in the hunters so she wouldn’t have to fight them, which would mean contacting the High Evolutionary. She became solid and took an infant from a crib and rested the child in Blade’s arms. Then she looked at T’Challa and Ororo who were two rows away studying the infants.

It was evident to Blade that Tekka was trying to soften him up. He watched the baby without saying a word or showing emotion. He heard the child’s heart beats and steady breathing. Slowly he recollected on Spitfire’s warning that he was losing his humanity. He looked at he sleeping child intently. He would have to kill it along with the rest of the colony. If that is what it came too? Even if he did not want the situation to reach that far.

“The best thing is to speak with the High Evolutionary,” he thought.

Meanwhile, T’Challa wondered what Ororo’s thoughts were on the matter. Could they allow sentimentality to get in the way of preventing another Petra from escaping the colony? And if all three of them had differing views how was that to be handled?

Ororo was pondering the same things as her husband.

“No matter how innocent the colony appears, action is required,” thought Ororo. “And if the High Evolutionary does nothing then we will have to.”

The wind rider shifted her focus from the babies to Tekka.

“Call the High Evolutionary,” demanded Ororo.

The hologram hesitated, “I mustn’t.”

“Why?” asked T’Challa as he folded his arms.

“This is the third colony that he created. The previous two were destroyed because he saw imperfections in them,” replied Tekka.

Her tone of voice indicated that she had grown concern for the colony; it was as close too as a machine could come to love.

“Still we need to speak with him,” said Ororo.

“No. I will not do it,” stated Tekka. Her warm voice turned serious.

Blade carefully returned the infant to the crib. “Look your concern has already inadvertently caused numerous deaths in the outside world. Bring the High Evolutionary here and we’ll deal with him.”

“No.” Tekka was adamant.

“Don’t be stubborn,” said T’Challa as he moved closer to her.

Blade and Storm were also approaching the hologram; they were hemming her in. Suddenly Tekka held out her arms and said, “Stop. Some else is approaching the vessel.”

Chapter

Tekka brought up a wide hologram screen from her opened right palm while she briskly exited the nursery. The hunting party following her. On the screen was a rocketeer who was speeding into the vessel. His jetpack had two wings with rockets attached to them, each producing a short tongue of fire. The person was travelling too fast for Tekka to identify him.

Before she knew it, the rocketeer had fired an acid grenade at the hull. Within moments there was a breech.

“I can deal with him,” said Tekka confidently.

The rocketeer entered the vessel and turned off the jetpack. Blade recognised the face.

“Rapier,” he said.

“You know him,” said T’Challa.

“He tried to kill me last week,” stated Blade. “He’s a half breed like me.”

Tekka ignored the conversation and concentrated on sealing off Rapier. She was like the conductor of a symphony.

The sliding metal doors were closed around Rapier and a sheet of metal closed the breech. Then Tekka administered the knock out gas from the ceiling.

“There,” she said happily.

“Really then what’s that,” pointed out Ororo.

A gas mask slipped onto Rapier’s mouth from his suit. He removed two objects from his belt and then the security camera feed went dead.

“Where is that place? I’ll go deal with him,” said Blade sharply.

“It’s not a problem. A little technical glitch,” assured Tekka. Yet she was aware that Rapier was on the move. He had somehow escaped her trap and was in a sector that contained families.

“Where is he Tekka?” asked T’Challa.

“In sub section B. But I have it under control,” she replied. Still the security feeds were unresponsive, although the motion detectors were still active. She closed more doors around the area she believed Rapier was in.

Soon she sensed an explosion and another breech in the hull. Then the security feed returned. Lying in a hallway was a female vampire. There was a gash to her forehead that was healing. Tekka recognised her and the fact the toddler son was missing.

The hologram scanned the new breech that was near the downed mother. Rapier was not there. Worried now, Tekka searched the area outside of the vessel and she spotted Rapier flying away with the child.

Blade cursed. “Let us out the nearest exit,” he said.

As Tekka was about to answer vampires that heard the commotion had rushed to the mother’s assistance. Words were passed between the mother and the helpers. The stolen child caused an immediate outrage. The helpers began howling and shouting angry phrases. And telepathically they informed the entire colony of the theft.

“Oh no,” murmured Tekka. She then sealed the new breech.

“Tekka we don’t have much time. Let us out,” said T’Challa.

Meanwhile the enraged adult vampires began transforming from their human forms into grey humanoid bats-horrible ugly creatures with elongated fangs, gleaming silver eyes and strong bulky bodies. Blood curdling noises came from their mouths. They then started firing lightening bolts from their hands at the hull.

“They’ll break open the vessel,” stated Ororo. We can’t allow that to happen, she thought. “T’Challa and Blade go after Rapier. I’ll stay to contend with the vampires,” she said.

With that, Tekka dispatched T’Challa and Blade through an exit and Ororo headed for the main area to face the raging vampire horde.

Chapter

Ororo understood that the vampires shared her mutant powers. “They must have got it from Dracula’s DNA,” she thought. Meanwhile she glided on the air currents through the chain of hallways.

There were two hundred adults in the main area. All of them were attacking the walls trying to break out the prison. The electrical surges from the vampires caused outages throughout the vessel.

Soon Ororo encountered a batch of the vampires. She had nanities syringes in her belt that would quell the vampires’ powers but it was not enough for the multitude that she faced.

“I can’t waste time with spot battles. I have to end this quickly once and for all,” she thought. She then inhaled deeply and concentrated. Slowly she began peeling away her inhibitions. They were like mental blocks that kept her dark nature at bay.

The glow of her eyes intensified. Then the wind rider felt less conscious of her physical self. As she was fusing with the natural energies of the Earth. She screamed out. Then it happened. Ororo transformed from a human into a higher life form that transcended flesh, blood and bone.

At that juncture, the vampires had combined their collective energies for a final push to freedom. Both Ororo’s and vampires’ powers were released at the same time. The two unleashed furies clashed.

A second later, the vessel experienced a massive energy surge that knocked Tekka  offline. The interior of the vessel went hauntingly silent and fell into utter darkness. Soon there were the noises of a damaged creature. Yellow sparks erupted from electronic consoles, the blood factory had ruptured tubes that were spewing the red contents, fires broke out from fried circuitry and the weakened engines that kept the vessel afloat began wailing in agony like sirens.

Ten minutes flew by on the vessel and the conditions worsened. In the control room was smoky and multiple small fires crackled. One of the functioning monitors was transmitting a signal to parts unknown. It was an automatic protocol for the instant the vessel was crippled.

There was stutter from the main computer terminal and white bands flickered on the screen. Then an explosion of green binary code came on the screen and they started running in sequence making a chattering sound. The process was like a person slowly coming back to life from death.

Tekka eventually revived. Like a living person she checked the vessel like it was her body for injuries. She noticed the alert that had been sent out but the situation was out her hands now. Thus she concentrated on repairing the damage to the vessel. Incidentally Ororo was discovered unconscious and in a human form lying in a hallway. The vampires were also unconscious.

The wind rider was brought to the control room by maintenance robots. Thereafter Tekka felt her power waning. Thus she went into hibernation.

Chapter

The Wakanda jet had collected the Black Panther and Blade when the two had dived out of the vessel. T’Challa contacted his secret service on the whereabouts of Rapier and he was informed that the man had entered a jet plane and was already out of Transia airspace.

“Then punch this thing T’Challa,” said Blade.

“Already on it,” stated T’Challa as he increased the jet’s speed to maximum. His only worry was that of Ororo. “Hope she’s all right,” he said in his thoughts.

Meanwhile, Rapier struggled with the four-year-old vampire boy even though the kid had a high dosage of nanities in him. The child bit him on the forearm. And Rapier was forced to give the rascal another injection of the nanities. Eventually the child fell into a sleep.

Rapier leaned back in his seat and breathed a sigh of relief. Six vampire helpers were also passengers on the plane and were seated in front of him.

He then looked at the tools he had used on the daring mission. The portable electro magnetic pulse was very handy; his samurai sword still carried the mother’s blood on it and the acid grenade launcher had one more offering left in the chamber.

“It’s a pity I didn’t run into Blade,” he muttered.

The phone rang on one of the helpers. The person answered it and said while looking at Rapier, “He’s here.”

Then the helper journeyed to the half-breed and handed him the phone. Maxoff’s stern voice was on the other end of the call.

“Well,” he said.

Rapier lightly scratched the side of his forehead. “The vessel was a hive of these vampires. I was able to snatch a kid.”

“Did you see Blade.”

“Unfortunately no.”

“I’ll meet you at the air field.”

There was a click as the line went dead.

Chapter

Blade recounted the incident with Rapier to T’Challa. No sooner had he finished than they were over the airfield where Rapier’s jet had landed. Five black Hummer vehicles were on the tarmac by the plane.

“We’ll jump out over them,” said T’Challa while turning on the autopilot. He then activated the door on the cabin floor; it slid to the side.

Blade positioned himself at the opening and waited on T’Challa’s signal. The plane made a low descent like a hawk swooping down at its prey.

“Now,” said T’Challa as he rose from the pilot seat.

Blade nodded in agreement and he leapt out. He saw Rapier handing the child over to the vampire leader who he recognised. Directly below him were the six hirelings from the jet. He landed on one of the hirelings, crushing the vampire’s spine in the process.

The others were too slow to react to the low flying jet and Blade’s sudden appearance. He heard one whisper, “Daywalker.”

At such a close range, Blade opted for his handgun and it rang it out its tune. Subsequent to that, the five bodies erupted in fire as the silver bullets ripped through them.

An amused Rapier watched on. “Well we get to go at it again,” he said.

Blade had no time to waste with the smug half-breed. He raised the gun at Rapier and fired. But the upstart was quickly dashing to his left out of the bullets’ reach.

Meanwhile Maxoff and his bodyguards were escaping in the four other Hummers. Blade drew his second fire arm and began blazing the weapons at the last escaping Hummer. Eventually the vehicle rolled to a stop.

Blade was still squeezing the trigger when he realised that the ammunition had finished. He heard the crack of the Wakanda’s jet engines as the plane flew low over the airfield. Then he saw the Black Panther leaping onto one of the fleeing vehicles.

Most likely he spotted the hand over of the child, thought Blade.

There was movement to the side of him. Instinctively he stepped out the attack’s range just as the end of a samurai sword passed under his jaw. Rapier’s wicked eyes were gleaming and his vampire nature was brought out on his face. He looked ghoulish.

Blade drew his sword and held it downward, inviting the opponent to attack.

“It all makes sense now,” he said.

“What does?” asked Rapier as he spun the sword in his hand.

“You’re just another lackey. They probably turned your mother while giving birth and trained you for this,” Blade said with a mocking smirk on his face. “Now here you are. Heart beats away from killing me. Something you’re trained your whole life to do. Or so you would like to think.”

“Your pretty observant,” retorted Rapier. The sword stopped spinning and the warrior charged into his nemesis.

Chapter

Blade blocked the incoming attack and then swiftly shot out his left boot into Rapier’s knee. The young half-breed lost his stance and drifted away.

“What are you afraid? You’ve been waiting for this your whole life, come on,” shouted Blade trying to unnerve his opponent.

Furthermore he wanted the fight ended quickly so he could join the pursuit of the child. He felt for a mini explosive in his coat and slipped it into his hands.

Rapier kept his cool and returned with another offensive. He copied Blade’s sword and feet combination. But the Daywalker was onto another fighting style. He pushed down Rapier’s sword and spun pass him. All the while, he planted the explosive on the back of Rapier’s neck.

The soon to be dead man felt the needling device and knew what it was. He slipped the knife from his belt and cut away the flesh underneath the explosive like a whittler.

Victoriously Blade stopped his spinning and he reached for the detonator. Pressing it just as the explosive fell from Rapier. There was a minor explosion that Blade’s sunglasses shielded his eyes from. Rapier was not so fortunate as piece of metal got caught in his eye.

Still the half-breed smiled as he had escaped certain death. “It’s that all you have,” he shouted and then turned to his opponent.

Suddenly Blade was thinking about how many lives Rapier may had taken in his training to be as good as him. He saw the coldness in the man’s eyes that he also possessed.

The Daywalker coolly returned to a fighting posture, an attacking one. “I’ve wasted too much time on this already,” he said.

He launched ferociously into Rapier. Changing sword hands and angles as he forced the opponent on the back foot. Then experience set in and Blade slyly removed a nanities syringe from his belt. He feigned to his right and then lurched to the left inserting the syringe needle into Rapier’s upper arm.

In the process the upstart got in a deep blow on Blade’s thigh; the vampire hunter sank on his follow through. But it was too late for Rapier. The nanites were working on neutralising his preternatural abilities. Hence his body slowed down.

Blade got a second wind and shot up sharply, uprooting Rapier’s head with the sword.

“No that’s not all I got,” he said returning to Rapier’s earlier insult.

The fellow daywalker’s body slumped to the tarmac.

Then Blade’s thoughts were on Ororo and how she fared against the vampires. He headed for the Hummer that was for Rapier and drove off to catch up with T’Challa.

Chapter

T’Challa landed hard on the roof of the Hummer and immediately he dug the claws from his gloves into the armour plated roof. He had seen that the child was placed in the lead vehicle and he was on the last one.

His plan was to destroy the Hummer he rode on and then leap onto the second and commandeer it since the second and third vehicles were in close proximity. Afterwards he would use it to chase down the lead vehicle.

Thus the Black Panther went to work. He took the sword from his back, leaned over the driver’s window and then he plunged the blade into the vampire. The vehicle swerved at top speed as the driver lost control.

Yet T’Challa’s keen sense of balance provided him with a means of escaping the impending crash. He leapt off the roof and onto the edge of the engine hood as the Hummer leaned on two wheels. Then he made a great leap onto the second vehicle.

His claws found purchase at the rear of the Hummer and he was able to climb on top. In the background he heard the third Hummer tumbling over on the asphalt. With no time to waste, T’Challa cut off the roof with the sword.

The vampire body guards looked up in amazement before they started firing their automatic weapons. The bullets bounced off the Black Panther and he went about severing the beasts. He poured into the driver’s seat after dispatching the last vampire from the vehicle. Then he gunned the Hummer.

On the other side of events, Maxoff saw T’Challa’s actions and he ordered three of his bodyguards to attack the pursuer. The three bodyguards climbed out the windows and onto the roof the Hummer and they leapt towards T’Challa’s.

Such was the super natural speed of the body guards that T’Challa was unable to swerve completely out the way. The vampires latched on and each one carried a laser blade.

In a savage yet co-ordinated attack the vampires stabbed and slashed at T’Challa through the wind screen and side windows. Their weapons were piercing his body armour.

“They are going to get away with the child if I don’t act soon,” he thought.

T’Challa slammed on the brakes and the vampires tumbled off from the jerk. Then he came out of the Hummer to face the three vampires. The creatures were dressed in tailor made suits and smelled of expensive cologne. Their fangs showed clearly along with their bloodshot eyes.

The Black Panther removed two energy blade daggers from his belt with one hand. The other hand kept the sword pointed downward. But he was not inviting an attack. It was a ruse to throw the opponents off guard. So he hid the daggers behind his back.

The vampires stood and began spreading out to encircle him. But he didn’t give them time. He threw a dagger each at two of the vampires and then he went after the third one with his sword.

The daggers distracted the two while T’Challa’s cat like speed sent him into his prey. The vampire attempted to duck and dodge the sweep of the sword, but the slanted  weapon caught him. The Black Panther swivelled on his heel and slashed the impaired vampire down the middle.

The other two having parried the daggers were descending on him. T’Challa kept his sword close and remained light on his feet. Thus he danced away from the sweep of the first weapon and parried the second one. Then in a great fury and a swinging motion he swiped off the upper torsos of the vampires.

Without looking at the falling bodies, T’Challa stared at the last Hummer that was heading out of sight. Driving to catch it would be useless. But he had his jet. He began running while he typed instructions to the jet through the kimoyo.

The jet cracked as it flew overhead and in front of the Hummer. A missile shot from the plane and into the road in front of the vehicle. T’Challa watched as the Hummer swerved and then turned on its side. He increased his speed until he was sprinting like a gazelle. He saw movement from the vehicle. Someone had run out with a preternatural speed and went into the roadside brush.

Eventually T’Challa arrived at the crash site. The jet was hovering close by and drowning out the nearby sounds. T’Challa looked inside and he saw two bodyguards and the driver badly damaged from the crash. The boy was alive and T’Challa took him out. He guessed the other occupant had run off.

He contacted Blade over the kimoyo and he hurried onto the jet. Hoping that Ororo was all right.

Chapter

Herbert Edgar Wyndham aka Lord High Evolutionary stepped out a time space portal and he surveyed the pitiful control room. He saw Ororo who he knew as Storm from the X men. She was lying in a chair.

He found it odd to see her since moments before he was having a conversation with a Celestial about mutants and the X gene.

He approached her and made to touch the shoulder. When suddenly Ororo snapped awake and swiftly drew the knife from her belt, bringing the weapon above her face. The sharpened edged pointed at the High Evolutionary.

Ororo was  like a king cobra ready to strike. “It is about time you showed up. You have much to answer for,”  she said.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a thunderous voice.

He was a towering human in a technological red suit that he designed using his evolved brain. His face radiated with the experience he gathered through time and space. It was his fortune after being born an Englishman who was fond of evolution in species.

Ororo told him about Petra and the colony and it pained the creator of monsters.

“Then I must destroy them,” he said since his experiment in evolved vampires was to see if their bodies would generate new cures for diseases or astounding insights. But there was nothing forthcoming to celebrate about. And he had not want his experiments harming humans.

He telepathically awakened Tekka and took over her controls. At the same time, Ororo’s kimoyo rang and she answered it.

“I’m all right. The High Evolutionary is here,” she said to her husband. “He’s going to terminate the colony.”

Suddenly Blade’s rough voice came over. “Tell him to stop. I want to speak with him.”

Ororo relayed the message and turned on kimoyo’s the speaker option.

“What is it Blade?” asked the evolved man.

“Don’t kill them,” answered Blade.

“That is an unexpected request,” stated the High Evolutionary. “For what reason am I to permit these things to continue living?”

On the jet Blade looked at the face of the innocent sleeping child in his arms. It was no different from any other human boy. And it had no control over the circumstances of its existence much like him. “Because I’ll take over responsibility for them,” he replied. “I’ll use the vessel as my base of operations. What do you say? And don’t forget that you owe me for creating this mess in the first place.”

“Are you sure you want that burden?” inquired the High Evolutionary.

Blade looked at the child. “Yes.”

The High Evolutionary chewed over the offer. Indeed he was at fault for stealing the DNA codes to make the vampires. He had to atone.

“Then the vessel is yours once I have done the necessary repairs,” he said.

Ororo then hung up. Back in the jet T’Challa and Blade discussed the decision.

“So you’re leaving the team permanently?” inquired the Black Panther.

” Yes. Although I’ll try to make myself available for the big cases.”

The Daywalker thought about Spitfire and he hoped that an arrangement could be made between them. Nevertheless he was taking back the mantle that was given to him from birth. That of being the most effective slayer of vampires. “Just the bad ones,” he thought.

Chapter

Chedula,

Malice’s mother in law closed the photo diary of her son Midas that she was showing to the widow. The old woman kissed her daughter in law on the forehead. Then she departed from the bedroom.

Leaving Malice to the awful sound of the respirator that she was hooked up to. She looked down at the intravenous tubes in her frail arms. The sight made her close to tears.

No one told Malice but she estimated that she had two more weeks to live as her cells deteriorated rapidly. The only comfort she enjoyed was her mother in law- the Queen mother. Every one else treated her badly. The doctors and nurses had hatred in their eyes when they attended to her. And one of her brother laws had made himself Regent of the kingdom expecting that when she died he would be crowned king.

She didn’t know the reason the Queen mother cared about her so much. The woman never said. She usually ensured that Malice was comfortable at night and showed pictures of her son and Malice’s late husband King Midas.

He died young at twenty-eight years old. Malice was twenty-five years old and was just released from prison on compassionate grounds.

She would lay there on her deathbed at night unable to sleep for long periods. Thinking about the kindness of her mother law and that she liked her.

Chapter

A noise at the window made the woman throw her eyes at the direction. She heard the window unlatched. Then the closed curtains began moving. Soon two hands emerged.

Malice thought it was an assassin sent by her brother in law to speed up her death. But the man who stepped out of the curtains was too old to be a hired killer. His Eastern European heritage showed in his face. The hair was grey and the eyes were concerned. He wore a long brown coat.

She had never seen him before and he approached quietly.

“Don’t panic. I’m a mutant like you are and I’m called Magneto,” he said.

The Master of Magnetism stared at the pitiful body on the bed. The woman was a criminal who along with her late husband had shamed their country. Yet he saw a means of saving mutant kind since Malice was immune to the X gene deactivation serum.

He held her hand reassuringly. “Ororo’s sense of justice has blinded her to the reality that you are important and cannot be left to die,” he said alluding to the fact that it was T’Challa and Ororo who had captured her and the husband.

“That’s why you are coming with me,” he said.

Next Story: Middle East On Fire

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Black Panther and Storm in Disarmament

Previously in The Black Panther and Storm:

For over ten thousand years warrior kings called Black Panthers ruled and protected the isolated and unconquerable African nation Wakanda. In their isolation Wakanda became the most scientifically advanced nation on Earth. T’Challa was the latest Black Panther, and he believed that his great nation was obligated to use its resources to help the less fortunate; defenseless peoples of the world against tyranny, corruption, and megalomaniac super humans.

Black Panther later married Ororo ‘Storm’ Munroe the non-Wakandan mutant heroine.

Story: Disarmament

New York Times

Tuesday 12^th September

Russia’s President Slams Superhuman Disarmament Group Global One.

Yesterday Russia’s President, Boris Dimitry, denounced any attempts to disarm his nation’s arsenal of superhuman soldiers. In his speech to a military inspection parade, the president noted that the country had already conceded to nuclear disarmament with the West. Afterwards he directly labelled the superhuman disarmament group Global One, as unwanted nuances.

Global One, which comprises of former world leaders, generals and several heads of states, has been clamouring for talks on the disarmament issue. When reached for a response to Russia’s president statements, the founder and head of Global One, Premier Augustus of Daidan, stated “that it was unfortunate that leaders are blind to the arms race created by militarised superhumans.”

Prompted to divulge what the group’s next step would be the Premier said, “We are exploring our options.”

Chapter

Malice was discovered to be gravely ill. The news was like a gunshot and the conspirators were left shell shocked and still. Eventually Premier Augustus gathered his wits. At the time he was speaking with the prison warden. “I’ll contact the CML, they’ll take her back.” The words were both calm and authoritative. Three minutes later, Augustus was on the phone with Dr. Balum, the chief geneticist at the Central Medical Laboratory. The Premier asked eager questions on the possible reasons for Malice’s ailment but no clear answers were forthcoming from Balum. Within minutes of the conversation, Malice was airlifted from the maximum-security prison where she was a guest prisoner and taken five miles away.

The Central Medical Laboratory was a sprawling complex bordered by sentinel fern trees. Songbirds usually disturbed the otherwise cemetery atmosphere. It was mid evening when the medical helicopter landed on the roof of the main building. A battery of armed guards and four doctors including Dr Balum flocked to the aircraft as its rotor blades died down. No one except Dr Balum knew the real reason Malice was being kept at the facility and had only been released for the impending visit from T’Challa and Ororo, Wakanda’s heads of state.

Balum had a bullet head, grey eyes and a clean-cut face. The fifty three-year-old doctor went over Malice’s medical chart while she was rushed on the gurney to the elevator. She had a low heart rate and could barely breathe on her own. Balum would have brushed off the symptoms since Malice was sedated, but her skin colour and eyes proved that she was sick.

She was pale and black rings were around her eyelids. Thirty minutes ago when Balum had last seen her, the woman appeared healthy, even the last tests showed that everything was stable.

“So how could this have happened?” Balum quizzed himself.

He stared at her face that was half covered with an oxygen mask. When he first saw her several weeks ago, he was amazed at the beauty. She was born in the 12^th century in what would become modern day Turkey.

If she was not a high profile criminal then historians would be lining up to get her eye witness accounts of life all those centuries ago, thought Balum.

He was also flabbergasted by the technique used by whoever had preserved her in a sleep state for all those centuries. The process had kept her cells fresh so that she awakened resembling a mid twenties woman.

Suddenly Balum had a brainstorm. “Could her cells be now collapsing due to being out of the preservation chamber?”

He clung to the assumption and started performing tests to prove the theory right. An hour later in the medical room and he still had no conclusive results. Furthermore Malice’s condition had worsened.

Augustus called again for an update and agitation was growing in his voice each time.

Meanwhile as Malice’s life slowly ebbed away, she dreamt of her late husband King Midas. Their first meeting was frightening and fascinating for her. She didn’t know the reason she was let out of the sleeping chamber and who was her new master. She was led to a man wearing a metallic suit. The sight astounded her just like the jeep she had been driven in.

She stared into Midas’s green eyes. Was he going to hurt her? He approached and she realised that she had no free will to use her powers against him. She was under his spell.

He placed his right hand on her forehead like an anointing. The touch was surprisingly warm. Then a bright white light bombarded her mind and she couldn’t think straight. Afterwards the light subsided and he asked her name. She understood his language and she answered fluently in his tongue.

From thereon she went to work killing for him. Malice remembered that her attraction for him grew quickly and they became lovers. Eventually he proposed and freed her of the spell.

The dream shifted to the last night she spent with her husband. They were on their honeymoon and waiting for the duel with T’Challa and Ororo. During those precious and tender hours before the showdown she had experienced a tranquillity she had never known.

It shocked her. She was now a queen after years of being an orphaned thief and a slave. The country that she shared with Midas was one of the wealthiest in the world. And she was in the care of a handsome man who truly loved her. It was more than she ever expected to get out of life.

The dream lingered at that point, and then death’s drowsy whisper came to her.

Chapter

Augustus was scared that Malice’s death would delay his plans. “Do everything possible to revive her,” he said to Balum over the phone.

Balum nodded. “Okay, okay.”

Then he heard the click as Augustus hanged up on him. He wiped a film of sweat from his forehead and exhaled deeply. Then he shoved his hands into the deep lab coat pockets. He had an idea. Why he did not think of it sooner? He placed it down to his ego. That he could have handled the situation by himself.

But he required help and from someone who was not even officially authorised to be working at the Central Medical Laboratory. In haste, he went to the basement labs. They were like a labyrinth. There were five doctors working on that level and none them saw or heard each other. They operated out of specialist rooms that led directly to the underground car park. These speciality rooms were assigned to top-secret research for Delplus; the state owned pharmaceutical industry giant.

Balum often remarked that the lower levels reminded him of dungeons. As he walked down the wide corridor his thoughts fell on prison and that he might end up in one if the scheme was ever made public.

He made his way to a silver door and entered his key card into the security lock. The door shifted sideways while a soft alarm beeped. Hurriedly Balum entered the lab and he saw the person he came for.

She was in a green lab coat. Her hair was in a ponytail. Balum still found that her profile was attractive after the thirteen years since he had last seen her. Looking back through time, he saw himself at university summoning the courage to ask her out on a date, but her egoistic and rather obnoxious behaviour changed his mind. In the end, he went on a date with someone else and years later he had married her and had two beautiful daughters.

Daughters he might never see grow up if Nakia Exon did not fix the problem with Malice. He wondered if Exon had children even though she didn’t seem like the motherly type.

She looked at him like he was an intruder into her home. At the time she waited for the Volric machine to stop its revolutions. It was a circular device that held seven canisters inside of it.

“What is it?” she asked with a West African accent.

“I have a patient. She’s dying and I don’t know the cause. Can you check her?”

The Volric machine whirred to a stop.

“Where is she?”

“Upstairs.”

“All right.”

“But put on your scrub cap and mask,” said Balum cautiously. He also had to keep Exon’s identity a secret.

He was doing her a favour by allowing her to work in the labs. She had shown up  several days before looking for freelance work. He obliged since Augustus demanded that the process using Malice’s X gene be sped up. Hence Exon was unknowingly assisting him in the scheme.

As usual Balum found that the trip back to the higher levels was faster than the one coming down. Soon they arrived at Malice’s medical room. Balum cleared out all the other personnel and he switched off the audio video recorders.

“All right work your magic,” he said.

Exon ignored his foolish statement because her ability was not magic, rather it was from her mutant genes. She walked slowly around Malice, gazing down at the woman.

Never would have Exon expected that she was connected with the fellow mutant.

“An extremely powerful one,” thought Malice.

Abruptly Exon finished her molecular examination of the woman.

“What’s the diagnosis?” asked Balum.

Exon looked at him suspiciously. “Has she been experimented on?”

Balum pursed his lips. He should have expected that she would have noticed.

“Kind of,” he admitted.

Exon noticed much more. For instance that the genes she worked on in the basement came from Malice. “Well it has caused slow and massive cellular degradation in her body.”

“Can anything be done?”

“I can create a gene therapy to hold the process for now. But it might be too far gone to help her permanently.”

“You can work on it downstairs,” said Balum relieved somewhat.

“May I ask who she is?”

“Its best you don’t know.”

With that Exon returned to the dungeon labs and Balum contacted Augustus about the new development.

Chapter

Nightfall did not come quickly enough for Augustus. He desperately craved for sleep after the long day. Tomorrow he entertained T’Challa and Ororo. They would ask for Malice and he would carry them to the laboratory. They’ll see that everything was under control and therefore drop off the nanities that kept Malice’s mutant abilities neutralised. Then they’ll depart.

“Its like a game of chess,” said Augustus as he observed an expensive chess board in his study. The gold and crystal pieces were laid out, awaiting a game.

There was a knock at the door. He went and checked. It was an aide informing him that his wife had arrived at the house. Then Augustus returned to the quietness of his study.

He thought about his wife and the hell he must be putting her through with his secrets. Yet it was for her own benefit that she knew nothing.

He took a glass and poured some scotch and then threw in some ice. In his mind he saw the chess pieces that he was moving in the dangerous game that he played.

Chapter

The Wakanda jet’s engines sang like a banshee. As the plane skimmed the top of white clouds that obscured the Taspian Sea.

On the inside, T’Challa and Ororo found themselves in what was becoming a bad habit- making love on the plane. Yet one could excuse the couple on the grounds that the extremely dangerous and uncertain lives they lived compelled them to snatch every available moment to express their love.

Apart from attraction and affection their marriage was set on mutual respect and trust. T’Challa never considered his wife a trophy. He never took for granted that in his arms was a woman who was a mutant, a teacher, a goddess, a mutant leader, a stateswoman and a fighter.

Likewise Ororo didn’t forget that man loving her was a champion of Earth, a statesman, a foremost and fierce some warrior, teacher and that his keen mind worked towards mankind’s benefit.

Yet he possessed other skills that thrilled her in their lovemaking and intensified her pleasure.

Meanwhile the sleek jet automatically turned southward and cruised gently into the main flight lanes towards Daidan. Another hour passed, then eventually T’Challa and Ororo released each other and they took a shower.

Ororo emerged first and she promptly dressed in her black and gold uniform. The last item she slipped on was her deceased mother’s amulet. The manner in which her Kenyan mother and African American father died was a subject that she was slightly touché on. Because she had remained with the dead bodies under the rubble of their home that was destroyed by an air attack in Cairo.

The experience had scarred her mentally and manifested itself in claustrophobia whenever she was in tightly enclosed places.

Her experiences as an orphan in Cairo also left her with a great deal of street sense. As well as pick pocketing skills.

T’Challa exited the shower just as his wife levitated herself with air currents. She stood erect like a pin. A curtain of natural white hair draped the sides of her face. Then she proceeded out of the bed quarters and into the corridor that ended at the flight controls.

“Perfect,” thought T’Challa.

He went over to his kimoyo-super computer. He had a clean cut face, a healthy and athletic thirty five-year-old body.

He was in the mist of planning another surprise romantic getaway with Ororo. On this occasion he had something spectacular in mind and dear to Ororo. The only problem was that it was difficult getting in touch with the Queen Ruler of another dimension. A woman who considered Ororo her daughter and who Storm was fond of.

T’Challa’s friend Reed Richards had located the dimension. And T’Challa had an idea in regards of sending a message to the Queen. He would do it through his sword’s time and space computers. The first attempt hadn’t worked so this was his second try.

The sword was leaned against the left wall. T’Challa’s hyper sense of hearing and scent kept vigil for Ororo as he awakened the computers.

“What is it?” the twin gold seals on the hilt asked.

“We’re sending the message again,” said T’Challa.

Meanwhile Ororo picked up on the subtle geo magnetic pulses within the plane much like a wolf would sense its prey in the wind. It was innate to her. The pulses lasted for a few seconds and disappeared. She glanced at the empty corridor from her chair.

“He’s doing something,” she muttered with half a grin.

Then her blue eyes fell on the silver case in the corner. It contained the nanities for Malice. But Ororo didn’t want to think about the woman.

Instead she concentrated on T’Challa. He was a weapon. Bred to be the sword, shield and leader of his nation. He had to be sharper, more intelligent and stronger than his enemies were. Those standards led to his high tolerance to pain, deadly combat skills and an engineering mind. Yet his strengths were also his weaknesses.

At times he over extended himself. It had even caused a health scare a few years ago when it was discovered a brain anomaly might kill him.

Thankfully that has seemingly disappeared, thought Ororo.

She heard him walking along the corridor and soon he was in her sights. He was six feet tall and broad shouldered. He wore the Black Panther vibranium weave body armour. He clutched the sword in his right hand. The scabbard was made from nano robots and they covered the large dark force energy blade.

Chapter

Ororo brought up the hologram image of the prison Malice was kept in. The running images showed the day before Malice’s transport helicopter returning for her mere minutes after it had left the prison.

I still don’t quite get Augustus’s explanation of him moving Malice so frequently. Why can’t the prison medical bay handle her instead of the laboratory? Ororo pondered.

On the other hand, she was glad for the opportunity to speak in person with Augustus over his superhuman disarmament plan. The salient aspect was the proposed deactivation of all X genes as a safeguard to people in developing countries from being experimented on by those involved in the arms race.

While Ororo saw the merit, still she couldn’t agree with it when there were alternative courses of action available before such a drastic one could even be explored.

T’Challa shared her sentiments since the Global One initiative also targeted meta humans (super humans who were not born with their preternatural abilities). He had a list of counter arguments to go through with Augustus.

“He most likely will say that we are trying to protect our own,” remarked Ororo.

“In a way he’s right and we’re right at the same time,” highlighted T’Challa as he scanned the plane’s computer controls.

“Still he is not addressing the root cause of this issue, which is world instability,” stated Ororo. “He should turn his focus to fostering world peace and that will end nations needing arsenals of that sought.”

“Your right.”

Ororo peered out at the azure sky. To her it looked great enough to just float and relax in as she normally did on mornings.

The auto pilot lowered the plane’s altitude and headed beneath the clouds. Below was the Roma mountain range that bordered Daidan. A twitter of radio communications came on the flight control panel. T’Challa answered and the flight controller provided the co ordinates to the aerodrome.

Soon the plane careened over acres of farm lands. Manicured  lots formed a jig saw puzzle in the landscape. Rolling out of the rural community were towns and a highway.

Ororo spotted the first city. There were three in Daidan. The designated airfield was near the second city. That journey took another ten minutes. Then T’Challa took control of the plane; he activated the vertical landing protocol. Thus thrust exited from the underside of the jet as it slowly descended on the specified location.

Ororo got the silver case and she went by the door. The plane touched down gently and she opened the door. A stairs automatically unfolded from the door area.

She surveyed the greeting party. It consisted of the lantern jawed Augustus, his wife and a few aides. A limousine was parked behind them as well as the standard security. The surrounding area was cordoned off.

Ororo stepped off the plane followed by T’Challa. This was to be a low keyed visit to Daidan. The objective was to check on Malice and the level of security around her. There would also be time to talk about the disarmament issue and address the media.

Chapter

The Premier’s wife was quite courteous and pleasing. She was like a Tourism Minister highlighting the sights of Daidan to first time travellers to the country. T’Challa and Ororo held on to her every word. They sat opposite to Augustus and his wife in the back of the limousine. The vehicle was heading for the Central Medical Laboratory.

Augustus had immediately broken the news of Malice’s illness when he met T’Challa and Ororo at the airport. He stated that the head of the International Criminal Court was informed of the matter. As expected the couple wanted to see Malice’s condition first hand.

That’s when Augustus’s wife started her conversation on Daidan culture and history. Inadvertently she wanted to know about Wakanda’s customs and lifestyle. The couple obliged. Occasionally Augustus also gave a cordial input into the discourse.

He knew that T’Challa and Ororo were examining him. Seizing him up for when they would discuss more weighty issues.

Augustus was not a drab politician. He was a former Olympic swimmer for his country as a teenager and had a swim every morning so his body was in a healthy condition. He was a successful lawyer for fifteen years, handling many high profile cases. Therefore he had his analytical mind constantly working.

How will my scheme penetrate Wakanda? Augustus wondered. They are in need of nothing from the outside world.

Nonetheless tackling nations like Wakanda was the second stage of the plan. His henchman Victor saw about that aspect and had recently returned to Daidan. Stage one of the scheme was twenty-four hours away from going into effect.

The limousine and security entourage meandered through the tree lined city outskirts until they arrived at the Central Medical Laboratory. Dr Balum was on site to greet the party.

“He is the chief geneticist,” said Augustus proudly.

Balum gave strong handshakes to his guests and showed them into the facility. Within minutes they were observing through a Plexi glass window a sleeping and stable Malice. The medical room she resided in was sparse and had a standard illumination.

Balum eloquently stated that Malice had a negative reaction from staying out her preservation chamber and that he had created a gene therapy to quell the effect in the interim. However the damage was irreversible and eventually Malice would die.

When he finished, the doctor felt sick in his stomach. He was disgusted with himself. How can I look my children and wife in the eye again? He thought.

What irked him even more was the ease at which he lied. Ever since he had crossed that first ethical line in medicine, dispensing falsehoods had become second nature to him.

He glanced at Augustus, but the Premier kept his eyes set dead ahead like a sea captain navigating his ship through a storm with the harbour in sight.

Ororo went closer to the Plexi glass. Days ago, she had pondered on killing Malice if they fought again. Her reasoning was that the witch was too dangerous. She remembered that she had to make the same decision in an encounter with the mutant called Magneto. She had balked at her chance to end his life in cold blood.

“Now it appears I don’t have to make that decision again,” said Ororo inwardly.

Yet killing Malice in open combat was no simple task. Her mutant ability allowed her to transmutate herself or other living organisms with a mere thought. From what Ororo understood the young woman also liked hurting people with her powers.

T’Challa knew nothing about his wife’s dark plans for Malice. He stared at the frail body on the other side of the glass. She had shown no remorse in court for the lives she aided in taking.

T’Challa recollected that it was only months ago that Malice’s husband had attempted a prison break and destroyed most of the ICC detention centre. Hence the reason Malice was temporarily relocated to Daidan’s chief prison while repairs were made to the ICC’s.

“Can we take a closer look at her?” asked T’Challa.

Not seeing any danger, Balum obliged.

Chapter

“Nakia Exon,” said T’Challa coldly. He took another slight sniff of the air within the medical room. “She was here. Where is she now?” he turned sharply to Balum.

The doctor was flabbergasted and he looked childishly at Augustus.

“Well answer the man. Who is this Nakia Exon person?” Augustus scolded.

Balum was reaping the rewards for not informing the Premier beforehand of Exon’s input.

The doctor stammered for a second under the weight of the authoritative voice and his guilt. Then he regained his nerve. “She’s an assistant. She helped with the care of the patient. But she isn’t here right now. She left for the day.”

“Where to?” interjected Ororo.

Balum paused and appeared strained. But Augustus was not in the mood for such behaviour.

“Well out with it,” he said.

“She went home,” responded Balum.

“Do you have the address?” asked Ororo.

“Yes,” replied Balum. “I’ll have to check my Iphone. If you would excuse me?” Then he walked briskly out.

Ororo followed him closely like a hawk.

“This is a bit of excitement,” commented the Premier’s wife.

T’Challa ignored it as he gathered his thoughts over the discovery. The real impact was that Malice had harmed Exon’s son. And the teenager was now in T’Challa’s and Ororo’s care.

“Who is this Exon lady?” Augustus asked again.

T’Challa returned to reality. “We found her working with a renowned terrorist, she escaped and we’ve been looking for her ever since.”

“So how did she end up here?” inquired Augustus’s wife.

Ororo and Balum returned to the room. She had over heard the Premier’s wife question.

“Exon’s a personal friend of Balum,” said Ororo. “We have the address.” She faced Augustus. “We request that its us,” she pointed to T’Challa, “who bring her in.”

Augustus thrust his hands into the trouser pockets and pretended to mentally tally the ramifications of such an action. “Of course,” he then said.

There was a flutter of activity next. T’Challa called the jet via his kimoyo as he and Ororo headed outside. Augustus expressed concern about a jet that size flying without notification over civilian areas.

“It has invisibility camouflage,” assured T’Challa.

In less than five minutes, the jet settled and hovered over the complex’s courtyard like a giant black bird. Ororo mentally manipulated the air around T’Challa and herself and they were lifted into the jet’s door.

“Now to work,” said Augustus to himself.

His wife went to the limousine while he spoke with Balum personally inside the building. Balum explained that he brought Exon into the scheme without authorisation.

“Move out all the evidence we have on the compound immediately. We’re speeding up the process,” said Augustus. “By the time they return there should be nothing to back up that woman’s allegations. Do you hear me?”

“Yes sir.”

Chapter

T’Challa dived out of the jet and descended over the forested ridge that was half a mile behind the Central Medical Laboratory. He straightened his body at an angle as he fell towards the trees. His timing needed to be flawless to survive. Meanwhile the banshee after burners of the jet kicked in and then the jet disappeared from earshot.

“Claws,” thought T’Challa and the microbots in his mask obeyed the command and they activated the weapons in his gloves.

Then he studied the forest below. The trees were tall yet they did not intertwine and form a canopy. There were winding tracks of spaces amongst some of them-good for nature trails and camping grounds. Those were to be avoided.

T’Challa spun his body to the left to move to the trees that were slightly more bunched together. A sudden upwind caught him, but he steadied himself. Then he returned to the angled and straightened descent. Gravity tugged at him harder as he neared the tree lines. Then they swallowed him.

He sighted a spot to insert his claws, which he did quickly. Immediately he became upright. The sharp claws sank into the aged tree trunk. Yet T’Challa kept sliding downwards. His body running over twigs and weak branches. There was the sound of a thick fabric ripping. Soon the rate of descent decreased and gradually the Black Panther came to a halt several meters from the forest floor.

Seconds later he had nimbly somersaulted on several tree limbs until he touched the ground. He stayed crouched like a panther for a moment, taking in the twittering of birds and scurrying of little animals. He retracted the claws, and then he shot up in a run towards the Central Medical Laboratory.

“Ororo was right,” he thought, “it was too convenient.” And what was Exon working on while she was there?

Hence the couple decided that Ororo would handle Exon while he doubled back to the laboratories. The little he knew of Exon stated that she was a genius in mutated enhancements.

Suddenly a helicopter roared in the distance, breaking the otherwise calmness of the forest. The sound was not coming in T’Challa’s direction but heading away towards the laboratories.

Nonetheless T’Challa kept up his rapid pace; the world flashing pass him. He moved like a man accustomed to the wild. He sidestepped the twigs that snapped and gave away locations. Soon enough he arrived at the top of a ridge and stared down at the Central Medical Laboratories. Then he saw the helicopter as it landed in the courtyard.

He spied Balum walking towards the aircraft and a man was stepping out to meet him. T’Challa observed that the strange man wore a long trench coat-it probably concealed a weapon. The man’s gait was not expected by T’Challa. For the man moved like a person with heightened senses. T’Challa knew that from his own experiences. Another factor of the man was that his body was refined for combat. T’Challa noticed the balance and poise in each step. Then there was the cold attitude-the mark of someone who had killed before.

The strange man casually looked to top of the ridge and seemingly directly at T’Challa. He shouldn’t be able to see me, thought the Black Panther. He was shrouded in the foliage. Then the stranger looked away.

Balum and the man spoke briefly and then headed for the elevator. Satisfied, T’Challa made his move downward. His target was Balum.

Victor was Augustus’s wife half brother. He was born into money thus he never saw the reason to work in any of the family’s businesses as a manager. Instead he journeyed the world learning various forms of martial arts. And trained his body to its ultimate physical peak.

Victor loved a challenge and he could keep his mouth shut on many things. Those attributes prompted Augustus to ask his brother in law to join the scheme several months ago. Victor relished the opportunity and the great danger involved in the plot.

Augustus ordered him to Central Medical Laboratories. He was there to keep an eye on Balum and ensure that the transfer process was completed.

Chapter

Meanwhile Ororo left the invisible Wakanda jet hovering one street away from Exon’s abode. The wind rider wasted no time with her assault on the house. She emitted an electronic magnetic pulse that shut down all electronic devices within the house. Ororo then used her knife on the second floor side window to open it. When it was done, she slipped inside quietly.

She scanned the house for human bio electricity. She found it fumbling in a room that was along a narrow corridor. Cautiously Ororo opened the room door and there was Nakia Exon drawing the drapes on a window. The woman who had abandoned her child.

The sudden sunlight revealed that Exon was dressed in a yellow tee shirt and worn out jeans. Ororo waited for her to turn around.

“Damn Power Company,” Exon stated as she looked away from the window.

She froze when she saw Ororo. The two women eyed each other like combatants. Memories of the stand off in the Gobi Desert returned. That enraged Exon since she lost her business place in that encounter and it halted her lucrative career as a underworld provider of genetic manipulation to various secret services. Her eyes started slowly turning red.

Ororo’s eyes were glowing white. A sober expression held on her face. She was choosing her words carefully. But Exon was the first to speak.

“You have some nerve,” she said. She looked over Ororo’s shoulder to see if her son was nearby like the last time. She recollected that he was blind, but possessed an extraordinary ability to kill living organisms with an invisible energy wave from his eyes.

Ororo noticed. “If you’re looking for Umba, he isn’t here. He’s at home in Wakanda.”

“Then he should stay there,” snapped back Exon.

“How can you say that, he’s your child?”

“He’s Shetani’s son not mines,” snarled Exon. “And who are you any way? How did you even end up with the boy.”

“I may despise Shetani for being a mutant killer and a nefarious warlord, but he was also my uncle and he entrusted Umba into my care.”

Exon was shocked that a mutant as powerful as Ororo was related to Shetani.

“Umba deserves an explanation as to why his mother wants nothing to do with him,” said Ororo.

“I don’t care to share,” said Exon. “Now either get out of my way or I’ll move you.” She raised her fists threateningly.

There were over a hundred ways Ororo could have used her powers to make Exon unconscious. Still she wasn’t going to back out of a hand to hand combat challenge. She let her body hang loose and waited for the first strike.

Exon didn’t disappoint and she came strongly at Ororo. Rather smoothly, Ororo dodged the first fierce punch aimed at her left jaw. Her eyes saw that the second punch was heading for her stomach. That one Ororo blocked with the back of her right hand.

With the gambit countered, Ororo was then on the offensive. She deftly leapt off her left instep while bending her right knee. Hitting Exon in the stomach with the knee that was a like a battering ram.

The woman doubled over and Ororo smacked her across the face with a left hook and then levelled her right hand like a spade and shot it into Exon’s throat.

Exon tumbled onto the floor and coughed. She was given no time to recuperate. Ororo slipped manacles from her belt and placed them on Exon’s hands and lower legs.

Then the wind rider produced the kimoyo and called Umba. The stocky fifteen-year-old answered.

“We got your mother. Do you want to speak with her?”

Umba gave a slight pause before he replied. Ororo understood that he was stunned by the news. Then Umba responded.

“Okay,” said Ororo and she put away the kimoyo. Reaching down for the prisoner she said, “On your feet. You’re going to see your son even if you don’t want to.”

Then the weather manipulator fired a lightening bolt at the window, destroying it. Afterwards tornado winds wrapped up Ororo and Exon and they flew out.

Ororo only wondered if T’Challa had any luck.

Chapter

“Take me to Delplus,” were the last words T’Challa heard from Balum as the doctor scampered into the helicopter, holding two incubator cases. The rotor blades then screamed to life and the aircraft slowly ascended. But there was nothing T’Challa could do to prevent it. He was tied up battling Victor.

The adversary’s weapons of choice were tonfas. They were shaped like police batons and had customised adamantium blades at the ends. The instruments suited Victor well in the fight.

T’Challa again tried to pass Victor but was impeded by the man. Tired with the nuance, T’Challa drew his sword. The nano robots retreated into the hilt. Then he charged into his opponent.

Victor held up the left tonfa defensively and the sword sliced through it. Still T’Challa saw the flash of the right tonfa as it slashed his wrists. Cutting through the body armour and searing into his flesh. The wound weakened T’Challa’s grip on the sword handle.

The predatory Victor sensed it and exploited the opportunity. He swerved to his right and lashed his foot out at T’Challa’s hands. The force knocked the sword from the Black Panther’s grasps. It went clanging onto the concrete surface.

Yet like lightening T’Challa whipped his left leg into Victor’s ribs. The big man was heaved to the side.

“Stop at once,” shouted a security officer; his weapon levelled at the two combatants. His comrades were forming a ring around the scene.

Victor ignored the order. He spun the tonfas smoothly in his hands and then held them out at T’Challa. They were spinning distractions that concealed his true motives.

Bleeding from his wounds, T’Challa keyed up for the attack. The silver tonfas reflected the sunlight as they came closer. He surmised that one was for defence and the other for the fatal blow.

T’Challa caught another movement. Victor’s right leg shooting up. The toe of the steel tipped boot directed at T’Challa’s chin. His right arm intercepted the incoming attack, smothering it with a block.

A sudden sharp pain came in his left shoulder. A tonfa was viciously stabbed into it. T’Challa held his breath and nerve.

Then the steely fingers on T’Challa’s right hand snaked to Victor’s exposed throat. The fingers became claws themselves and they seized the hard lump that protruded the throat. T’Challa yanked back sharply with his prize in hand.

He looked across at Victor’s cold eyes. The life fading out of them. Nonetheless T’Challa shoved Victor away. The man’s hand slipped off the tonfa that was buried in T’Challa’s left shoulder. The rest of the body fell backwards.

T’Challa removed the tonfa and held the wound.

“That’s enough,” shouted the security guard. “Put your hands up.”

T’Challa scanned the ring of officers. They were all in generic blue uniforms and held firearms.

This was madness, he thought. All he wanted was to speak with Balum, but Victor had interfered. But why was he protecting Balum? The doctor had escaped without even attempting to stop the fight or call security. Now he was heading to Delplus. It proved that his and Ororo’s suspicions were correct.

He detached his kimoyo from the belt and called her. The guards were yelling at him to stop.

Ororo came on the line.

“Balum is in a helicopter going to Delplus and he’s carrying two incubation cases,” T’Challa said and he gave her the aircraft’s identification number.

Ororo stated that she had Exon in custody. “I’ll get Balum also,” she said.

“All right. I’ll meet you afterwards.” Then he hung up.

He stared at the guards. They were slowly approaching him.

“Sword,” he said. Instantly the weapon teleported from the ground into his waiting hands.

He whispered the co-ordinates of the forest behind the ridge and then he vanished.

Chapter

Balum felt sick again. He had witnessed the most violence in the last ten minutes than he had seen in his life.

He considered calling Augustus but the pilot would overhear the conversation. The interior of the helicopter was that quiet. His head was throbbing with pain and guilt.

What have I got into? He asked. It was those goddam pictures of people mutilated through the arms race that Augustus had shown me. There were more photos of the countries ravaged by wars waged with superhuman weapons.

“You can make a big difference in stopping this from continuing,” Augustus had told him.

Balum stared at the incubator cases that had digital coded locks. Inside of them were the culmination of his and Exon’s work and the answer to the question- “How to eradicate present super humans and mutants and prevent any more from emerging without anyone knowing?”

Balum then looked out the window. They were approaching Delplus from the woodlands. Already he saw the multi storey factory.

He massaged his temples and longed for an end to the day.

Suddenly the pilot was cursing loudly. Balum felt a sink in his stomach as the helicopter dipped suddenly. The pilot furiously pulled at unresponsive switches. Eventually he exclaimed, “May Day, May Day.” Then he realised that the radio was dead. He cursed some more.

“We’re going down,” said Balum before the pilot stated the fact.

The doctor held onto his seat and looked at the window. They were going to crash into the trees.

Suddenly the helicopter began spinning wildly as though it was inside of a tornado. The pilot kept on yelling, “May Day, May Day.”

So this is how it ends, Balum thought. His eyes flickering about the spiralling metal coffin.

Then the revolutions eased up. Yet the falling sensation persisted. Balum’s heart leapt into his throat. Something moved outside the helicopter. He only saw a glimmer of it. He peered out the window sheepishly.

He was astonished. The helicopter was gently landing in a clearing, but not on its own power.

Suddenly the door next to him opened and standing outside was Ororo. Her eyes gleaming terrifyingly. It was too much for Balum to take. He promptly fainted.

Chapter

Ororo rested the incubator cases in two passenger seats. She glanced at Exon who was strapped in another chair and glaring at her. The unconscious Balum was restrained in the corner of the main cabin.

Then Ororo contacted T’Challa. At the time he was mending his wounds and using his kimoyo to find information on Delplus. He gathered that the company supplied medicine to almost every country in the world. When Ororo called he teleported onto the jet.

“Nice to meet you again,” he said to Exon.

She didn’t bother with him and kept a blank expression.

“Umba wants to speak her,” said Ororo.

“Did you give him that name?” T’Challa asked, focusing on Exon.

“No,” muttered Exon since she was also questioning why Shetani had named their child that.

She reflected unashamedly about her time with Shetani. She had met him on her first foray into underworld genetics. She was a freelancer for a science team. Shetani provided human test subjects for a fee. Her first impressions of him were poor. He was uncouth and foul mouthed until he had noticed her. She saw that he liked her. She ignored him. Then he left. If she regarded him a pauper on that day then on his return he was practically a prince.

Everything had totally changed about him. He was clean, smartly attired, respectable and wore cologne that she liked. Still she kept her distance. He knew that the attraction was mutual and persisted. Eventually they started a relationship.

However, Exon realised that they were total opposites and her ambitions far outweighed his. She wanted to leave, but the baby came. She had Umba and immediately gave him up to Shetani.

She left to start her own operations and never heard or saw from them again.

A hot plasma beam from Ororo’s first finger cut through the locks on the incubators. Then she opened them. Wisps of cold air leaked out. Ten canisters rested in the top and bottom.

“I also found this disc on Balum,” said Ororo as she raised it from her belt.

Then she inserted the disc into her kimoyo and activated the hologram projector. Like ghosts several images appeared and floated in the cabin. They were diagrams of chemicals along with genetic symbols and numbers.

T’Challa turned to Exon. “What does it say?”

Lazily Exon looked at the images and she understood them. It made her blood run cold.

“Its unbelievable,” she revealed. Regrettably she saw her input into the chemical designs.

“It’s partly a manipulation of the X gene depowering serum and a new agent. In short it kills off junk DNA, the X gene and any other enhancements that were not originally in the DNA sequencing,” said Exon.

What she didn’t know was that the new agent was designed from Malice’s DNA.

“Do you know Premier Augustus?” inquired Ororo.

“No,” replied Exon.

Ororo examined her eyes for treachery. There was none. So Ororo believed her.

“This is what he wanted,” remarked T’Challa as he gazed at the hologram. “Total superhuman disarmament.”

“But how would he have distributed it?” quizzed Ororo.

T’Challa thought about Delplus and the reason Balum was heading to the factory.

“Maybe they were going to pass it off as pharmaceuticals. Probably the chemicals are able to hide or disguise themselves so that they are undetectable. Then they are put into the general population.”

“Its possible,” said Ororo. “We need to have a talk with Augustus.”

Chapter

Augustus didn’t grieve much over the passing of his brother in law. He had ordered that the matters remain quiet for the while. Not even his wife knew. Furthermore he hadn’t heard from Balum.

Thus he locked himself in the administration office and wanted no disturbances. Then he pondered his next moves like a chess grandmaster.

Suddenly a bright gold light stained his eyes. He sat erect in his chair, shocked by what had just happened. The light went and his visitors were the Black Panther and Storm. They held the incubator cases.

It occurred to Augustus that he was about to lose the game.

“We know everything,” said T’Challa as he raised the case slightly.

As a former lawyer, Augustus was aware that he should keep his mouth shut. Thus he stared blankly at his accusers.

“We’ll be giving the evidence to the International Criminal Court,” said Ororo.

Still there was no show of emotion or response from Augustus. His eyes were dead.

“You didn’t have to do this,” said T’Challa, ” there were other means-”

“Useless arms control,” Augustus leaned forward and rested his forearms on the desk. His indignation was stirred not even his lawyer instincts could restrain it. “Don’t insult my intelligence. Talk shops gain nothing. It was the less fortunate that I was looking out for. Their misery is on your hands now.”

His intent was noble but the approach was wrong, thought T’Challa. “If it would ease your mind. We have someone with inside knowledge of the superhuman arms race. She’ll help us shut it down.”

Afterwards T’Challa and Ororo departed and left Augustus to his fate.

Chapter

For Exon the moment of truth had arrived. The door slid opened and a slight reflection of Exon entered the room. He was strapping for a teenager. A computerised visor covered his eyes. She guessed it aided him since he walked effortlessly to the table and he drew back the chair and sat. He reminded her of T’Challa.

He must have a great influence on the boy, she thought.

Accidentally her manacles bounced on the metal table.

“Do you want them off?” Umba asked politely.

“No. They’re fine.” Exon lied.

I just want to get this over with, she thought.

“Why did you leave me?”

Exon felt a twitch in her heart. Still she toughened up and she said flatly, “When you get older your going to have to make priorities. You were not a priority for me.”

“So you care nothing about me?”

“Do you care anything about me?”

“Of course I do. You’re my mother.”

“Well to me, you are a stranger,” said Exon coldly.

“You’re going to be imprisoned for a long time. What will be your priorities then?” asked Umba wittily.

The sarcasm cut Exon. She had to smile a little. She was being harsh to him, yet he remained kind.

Umba leaned casually forward on the table. He was enjoying the experience of having a conversation with his mother. Frankly it was not going the way he envisioned it. She called him a stranger. So he had to prove that he wasn’t.

Without warning, he pushed back the chair and stood. Then he walked quickly around the table, the gulf between him and his mother. She looked at him puzzled. Then before she could protest, Umba threw warm his arms around her and held her tightly. He rested the side of his face on her shoulder. He was surprised how he felt relieved to hug her.

Soon he heard the little sounds of sobbing. She was crying.

“I love you mother,” Umba said. “Until yesterday I had disliked you, but having this chance has changed my mind. I love you even if you don’t feel the same way for me.”

Then he released her. She was still crying when Umba exited the room. Five minutes later T’Challa and Ororo entered.

Ororo undid the manacles and Exon wiped her eyes. “You got what you wanted,” she said.

“Not exactly,” said T’Challa. “There is the matter of the people you associated with in the underworld. We have to go after them and you have to get out of that business.”

“In return we’ll set you free,” said Ororo.

Exon’s heart still ached. She had never held Umba. When he did; it was disarming and all the motherly instincts flooded her.

She listened to the offer and weighed up the pros and cons. “Okay,” she said.

“If you want to see Umba again-”

Exon interrupted Ororo. “No, no, I need more time.”

Ororo reflected on her mother and whatever memories she had of the woman. To know that her mother’s love was taken away in instant by an act of violence made her unable to relate to Exon shunning  her son.

Chapter

Another gunshot went off and this time it was T’Challa and Ororo who were left in shock. Malice had awakened and was still gravely ill. Dr. Hank “Beast” Mc Coy, the mutant geneticist, confirmed that the condition was permanent. That Malice had only a month to live.

Therefore the International Court Chairman decided to release Malice on compassionate grounds. She would return to her kingdom Chedula, to die.

The news also affected Dr Alex Soberk, the world leader and magic wielder, since he had killed Malice’s husband. He was pleased that she would be one less thing he had to worry about.

Still someone else was paying close attention to the disclosures being finally made known to the public about Malice’s case. His name was Eric Magnus Lehnsherr commonly known as the mutant Magneto. Malice’s immunity to the X gene depowering serum interested him and the fact that Ororo had left such a precious gift to mutant kind to die displeased him greatly.

Next Story: Blade Ultimatum

 

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Black Panther and Storm in Age of Bashenga

Previously in The Black Panther and Storm:

For over ten thousand years warrior kings called Black Panthers ruled and protected the isolated and unconquerable African nation Wakanda. In their isolation Wakanda became the most scientifically advanced nation on Earth. T’Challa was the latest Black Panther, and he believed that his great nation was obligated to use its resources to help the less fortunate; defenseless peoples of the world against tyranny, corruption, and megalomaniac super humans.

Black Panther later married Ororo ‘Storm’ Munroe the non-Wakandan mutant heroine.

Story: Age of Bashenga

“One must be most guarded when victory is at hand,” Premier Augustus told himself as he contemplated T’Challa’s and Ororo’s request. The leader of Daidan stared back blankly at his Wakandan counterparts.

Ororo was observing him with her piercing blue eyes. A single curl of her white hair fell near the left eye; the rest of her hair was neatly placed in a ponytail. She was about five foot eight and slender. Her striking good looks complemented her fierce spirit.

On the other hand, T’Challa was six foot in height, broad shouldered and with a body built for speed, strength, endurance and agility. He possessed a rare noble persona, although it was shadowed by a hint of ruthlessness. The hyper sensitive eyes were brown.

The couple wanted to personally see the manner in which Malice was kept at his prison in the interim while the International Criminal court detention centre was repaired. They also had a vested interest in Malice since they had captured her.

Still Augustus was using Malice’s mutant ability to manipulate living organisms for his own purposes. Debarring T’Challa and Ororo would draw suspicion.

“You may come at your convenience,” said Augustus.

“We’ll also bring along the nanites required to keep her powers nullified,” stated Ororo.

“Very well and thank you for the call,” said Augustus.

After a few parting civilities the transmission ended and the Wakanda videophone screen went off line.

T’Challa looked at Augustus’s dossier that was on the administrative desk. The file stated that the Premier was fifty-five years old, a former swimmer for the country’s national team and afterwards a practising lawyer for seventeen years until politics ensnared him.

T’Challa reflected on the person he had just spoken with. Augustus was a renowned advocate for superhuman disarmament, because of the arms race it created. A problem he saw that fuelled human trafficking in poor countries of children and adults for the purpose of genetic experimentation to create superhuman weapons. It seemed that almost every country wanted to keep up with their neighbours in regards to the organic weapons.

T’Challa agreed with Augustus’s point about the exploitation of innocent people by weapons corporations and governments. The Black Panther had even fought a trafficking ring that dealt in the superhuman arms race.

Yet mutants like Ororo and meta humans like him were necessary deterrents to threats outside of Earth. The distinction between the two types of superhumans was that mutants were born with a majority of their DNA carrying chemical instructions that gave them the generally used term ‘powers’. Metahumans were born normal humans but due to accidental or deliberate bio chemical manipulations like the heart shaped herb in T’Challa’s instance their unused or junk DNA were activated which led to the enhancements.

“It’s a delicate subject,” said T’Challa inwardly.

So T’Challa was in disagreement with Augustus’s proposal that all superhumans be either given the mutant X gene deactivation serum or have their powers nullified by regular injections of pacifiers like the nanites. Wakanda’s nanites were the most effective thus Augustus had previously approached T’Challa and Ororo for the items.

“But the problem was that he was not going to use them in the near future since his pressure group Global One were stalled in getting a disarmament discussion going with the world leaders. We could not leave him with that large stock of nanites, because they might have fallen into the wrong hands,” T’Challa stated in his mind.

He took his eye off the dossier and he focused on Ororo. She was writing on her tablet computer. She was against the mandatory X gene deactivation serum given to all mutants under Augustus’s planned disarmament program. She had even written letters to Augustus’s Global One pressure group that voiced her strong disapproval of their stance.

Looking at her, T’Challa remembered that he was working on something romantic and special for his wife.

Just two more days before its complete, he thought.

For a moment he drowned himself in her beauty. Suddenly his tablet computer beeped and he glanced at it. A reminder box had appeared on the screen, which stated that he had to meet a private citizen in five minutes.

The man had entered the Administrative Building ten minutes prior and he had requested an audience with T’Challa.

It was not uncommon for ordinary Wakandans to speak one on one with their leaders when time permitted. Hence T’Challa was delighted to hear the man’s concerns or recommendations.

But why didn’t he ask to see Ororo also? T’Challa pondered.

He felt that she was watching him, so he turned to her. Indeed the captivating eyes were on him.

“It’s the meeting with the man that walked in,” he explained.

“Well don’t keep him waiting too long,” she said with a warm smile. Then she unloosened her ponytail.

With that, T’Challa touched lightly a tablet screen icon. It directed him to the assistant that handled the observation of the man.

“He left,” was the message the assistant gave to T’Challa.

The Black Panther was disappointed. “Did he say if he would be back?”

“No. All he did was walk around the touring area with the school children; he looked at a few of the historical battle pictures and then departed.”

“What was his name?”

“Zurike. His identification ring also stated that he lived in lower Kangi.”

“Okay that will be all, thanks.”

Meanwhile Ororo heard the disappointment in T’Challa’s voice. It brought to her mind how easily T’Challa may have been a selfish and uncaring ruler rather than the person he was.

“He didn’t have to use his skills and risk his life to help others when he could have lived here lavishly without a thought of the outside world,” she said inwardly. “Yet he committed himself to the task.”

Ororo finished her notes on Augustus. She saved the document in the MALICE folder on the tablet computer.

She is one of the most dangerous and powerful mutants on the planet. She might even be borderline omega level, pondered Ororo.

The wind rider reflected on the records she read, which were written by Malice’s late husband, King Midas. They stated that Malice was orphaned around eight, lived as a thief and was sometimes mistaken for a witch because of her abilities, until she was brought under the control of another mutant. Then she was coerced into harming people for profit. The file also mentioned that Malice had limited mental suggestion influence over others.

All those attributes concerned Ororo, because hard-line mutants like Eric Magnus Lensherr aka Magneto, Bennet du Paris aka Exodus and Selene the Black Queen may try to recruit Malice into their forces.

“And added to that is her immunity to the X gene deactivation serum,” said Ororo to herself.

Scott had asked her the reason she had spared Malice’s life when the woman was captured.

“I believed and still do that the families of the victims she helped kill should be her judge,” Ororo had replied.

In her mind’s eye, Ororo saw the young woman who had curly black hair, a nose ring and a slender figure.

“But seeing that she poses such a threat, should I kill her if given the opportunity again?” Ororo questioned her soul.

Killing was not above the weather manipulator; she had done it several times. She didn’t enjoy the act, but understood its purpose.

She glanced at T’Challa. He was also a proponent of deadly force when necessary and he took no pleasure from it. She doubted any resistance would come from him if she employed extreme force on Malice.

“I’ll make the decision when it comes,” Ororo stated inwardly.

She noticed the time; two more meetings were scheduled for the afternoon. The first dealt with the level of monetary liquidity in Wakanda’s economy. The second meeting’s agenda had on it the future of further vibranium mining. Vibranium was the most indestructible metal in the universe and only Wakanda had the purest form on the planet.

Both meetings were long and T’Challa and Ororo arrived at their home at 7.00 p.m.

T’Challa’s hyper sense of smell picked up on Umba’s scent; additionally it told him that the teenager’s girlfriend Enzi had been in the house that day.

Umba was a never a major disciplinary problem since he moved in. The fifteen-year-old kept the house neat. He played his music at a medium level. There was room for improvement in his schoolwork even though he performed slightly above average. If he was not learning or with Enzi then the blind boy was in the training grounds, which were on the property. There he exercised his Black Panther combat training that T’Challa had taught him.

So when T’Challa took a mild turn in him for going with Enzi into Akum’s cavern it was utterly unexpected.

“You did what?” asked T’Challa.

“We went to find Akum’s statue. Just to see it,” replied Umba.

“Don’t ever do that again,” said T’Challa.

Being unaccustomed to that level of scrutiny in his behaviour by his guardian prompted Umba to ask, “What’s the problem?”

“You endangered yourself and Enzi by going there,” responded T’Challa as he stood in the living room. Umba sat in a chair with his arms folded.

Ororo was in agreement with T’Challa as she watched the lad. He truly looked perplexed that they were coming down hard on him. The sleek computerised visor that acted as his eyes were fixed on her.

He probably wants me to say something in his defence, thought Ororo.

“But you taught me how to use my powers and protect others during a fight,” Umba pointed out.

“This is different,” said Ororo.

“Why? I’ve faced thousand feet tall demons, killer robots from the future, -”

“You took Enzi, that’s the problem. She doesn’t have your level of combat experience,” explained Ororo. “Much more, is that you didn’t tell us anything before hand.”

“I didn’t think it would have been an issue. We were only having fun,” insisted Umba.

“Certain times require that you operate in a responsible manner and this was one of them,” said T’Challa.

Umba remained quiet. Fuming inside because he felt unwarranted criticism was being thrown at him.

“Do you understand?” inquired Ororo.

“Yes,” he said watching his tone of voice. He didn’t want to appear rude or ungrateful. T’Challa and Ororo had taken him in after Malice had gave him blindness and the power to kill organic material with an invisible energy wave from his naked eyes.

“But it was all for nothing,” Umba continued. “Because Akum’s statue was not there. Somebody probably moved it.”

T’Challa scanned his memory and to his knowledge the statue was never tampered with.

“Are you sure?” asked T’Challa.

“We followed the map exactly and there was nothing there,” stated Umba.

Ororo glanced at the ancient map that lay in the chair opposite Umba. He had got the map from the house’s library. Bashenga the father of the nation and T’Challa’s ancestor had made the map to the resting-place of his most fearsome enemy.

“We’ll see for ourselves,” informed Ororo. “In the meantime stay in the house.”

“Okay,” said Umba as he unfolded his arms.

Soon after, T’Challa and Ororo headed upstairs and they changed into new uniforms.

“He’s going to tell Enzi about our talk,” commented Ororo during the change over.

T’Challa grinned slightly. “I expected him to do crazy things, but this situation shows that he has grown too over confident.”

“Sooner or later he’s going to realise that,” said Ororo. “Still a little over confidence is good now and again.”

T’Challa nodded in agreement.

They returned downstairs and spoke with Umba once again afterwards T’Challa’s sword teleported the couple to Akum’s chamber.

Chapter

One of the first stories T’Challa remembered his father told was that of Bashenga’s battle with Akum the shape shifter over ten thousand years ago.

Bashenga had been a traveller; a warrior and an adventurer for much of his life and eventually at age forty-three he returned to the lands where he was born to start a family. At that time the various families that lived on the lands were showing their ingenuity with strange and astonishing inventions.

Then the vibranium meteorite descended into lands to be known as Wakanda. Everyone heard when the object had crashed that night. It came to be called ‘Demon Night’ because the meteor’s radiation transformed several humans, animals and floras into abominations. The most astounding change in the landscape was the crystallisation of an entire forest area and the great apes that lived there became pure white. During the day the sun’s rays danced off the crystal forest and under a full moon a haunting and foreboding playground for the ‘spirit walkers’ was created.

Terror strangled Wakanda. Weeks passed and the attacks from the strange creatures grew. Bashenga realised that the creatures may eventually leave Wakanda for other territories; therefore he compelled the families unaffected by the radiation to seal off Wakanda’s borders. And that he and who ever would follow him would rid the land of the monsters.

It was not an easy task. On the first hunt a mutated Black Panther mauled Bashenga; he survived but his hunting party weren’t so fortunate. He evaded the stalking Black Panther for a few hours in the forest. Then he made it to a cluster of herbal plants. He did not recognise that the plants were too mutated by the meteor’s radiation. Hence he used them to cover his wounds and he ate as much as he could to regain his strength.

Suddenly he fell into a deep sleep. He stayed that way for a day. Then he awakened at nightfall. It was not long until he felt something was wrong. He started hearing the wings of insects that were yards away from him. His sense of smell heightened and his range of vision widened. The wounds had healed sufficiently.

He marked the place where the herbs grew, and then he went in search of the Black Panther. A few hours before dawn he found the creature that walked on its hind legs like a man. He and the great cat scrapped on the forest floor. Eventually Bashenga got the upper hand and he plunged his dagger to the Black Panther’s heart.

At that point in time, the battle was biggest victory Bashenga had ever won. So in honour of the contest he skinned the Black Panther and wore the animal’s fur as a testament to his new strength.

Several more weeks elapsed and Bashenga’s stature grew amongst the people as he fought and captured the creatures that posed the most danger. Bashenga became less dependent on his strength and relied more on cunning and skill. As he kept on wearing the animal skin he was referred to as the Black Panther. He and his followers travelled to the high snow cap mountain regions where wolves and monsters lived and down to the swamps where mutated humans or spirit walkers lurked in the murky waters.

Then he alone faced Akum the shape shifter. Both had met before the meteorite came and were then equal warriors. There was never any friendship between them only rivalry.

Now with new abilities the old warrior flames emerged from Bashenga and Akum. Yet on that eerie night, Bashenga knew in his heart that he lost the fight after the first minute it had started.

Akum had transformed from one creature to another so seamlessly, and the shape shifter became elongated, he grew quadruple appendages, which had knife sharp edges. He used these to inflict precise lacerations on Bashenga’s body. Not even Bashenga’s enhanced agility was able to save him from the swift blows because the appendages moved as quickly as he did.

He thought he saw an opportunity for the kill and he threw his spear with all his heart only for the weapon to slip straight through Akum and the monster was still unharmed.

Akum then lunged in the Black Panther, knocking the man unconscious in the process.

Chapter

“What happened next?” asked Ororo while she walked to the stairwell that went deep into the earth. T’Challa was relating the capture of Akum to her.

“No one knows. Bashenga regained consciousness, piece of his left forearm was bitten off and he discovered Akum frozen like a statue. And that was how the monster remained for all this time. His skin was indestructible thus no one was ever able to kill him even in that state.”

Ororo entered the stairwell first, using her natural night vision to see in the darkness. T’Challa possessed the same ability and he followed her down. He smelled the residual scent of the teenagers and someone else besides Ororo.

“Can’t your sword do it?” asked the wind rider.

“Probably.” T’Challa’s sword was light like a samurai’s, the large blade was made from volatile dark energy and two space computers on the hilt kept the dark energy pacified.

The weapon was magnetised to the back of the Black Panther’s vibranium weave body armour suit.

The couple made it to the base of the stairwell and it was true that Akum was gone.

“I saw him standing here personally when I first learnt of the location,” said T’Challa. “Then someone moved him.”

“Or he awakened and walked out.”

“We’ll check the vicinity before launching a nation wide search.”

They hurried to the surface. “Mighty winds lift me up,” spoke Ororo to the elemental forces while her mind mentally manipulated the atmospheric conditions that caused her elevation into the sky. The gold lines in the otherwise black uniform shined in the half moon light. Then she glided gracefully like an eagle on the wind stream. She scoured the forested plateau below.

T’Challa became a tracker. His enhanced vision searched for adult footprints, tyre marks or aircraft thrust burns around the stairwell entrance. There were none. And furthermore the strange scent from the stairwell was absent. Then T’Challa noted the direction that the intermittent wind blew in.

He contacted Ororo over the kimoyo- a communicator and super computer wrapped into one- and he asked that she shift the wind patterns in the forest. She did so; shifting the upwind in several directions and eventually T’Challa picked up the scent of a corpse.

“I have something,” he said to his wife.

She joined him on the ground and they ventured into a thicket. T’Challa cleared a path with his sword. Within thirty minutes the journey ended at disheartening sight. The remains of a man lay scattered in the foliage. Most of his body appeared to have bitten away by a wild animal. The face was completely ravaged. Then T’Challa noticed the human teeth marks on the flesh that had remained.

Akum was also a cannibal, T’Challa recollected.

The strange scent lingered faintly in the air. “Akum did this,” he said. “From the freshness of the remains I’ll say it’s been here for fifteen hours.”

Ororo found the man’s hands and she looked for the computerised identification ring. It was absent.

“No luck here,” she said as she dropped the body parts and then went for the man’s head.

The teeth were bare thus Ororo took pictures of them with her kimoyo, and she made a search through Wakanda’s dental records for a match. She looked at the screen intently as the scan went on.

T’Challa thought about Umba and Enzi. They were fortunate not to have come across Akum.

“I have a match,” stated Ororo.

“What’s his name.”

“Zurike from lower Kangi.”

“That’s the name of the man who came to see me today.”

Ororo’s mind sharply deduced Akum’s ploy.

“Assuming it was Akum then he probably wanted to kill you,” said Ororo. “He can’t get revenge on Bashenga so he goes after the descendants.”

“But he changed his mind about me, after he saw the war pictures,” said T’Challa continuing on Ororo’s line of speculation.

“So he can’t get you now. Then he’ll go after someone he thinks he can get to,” said Ororo.

Chapter

Shuri was T’Challa’s patriotic younger sister. She had long stepped out of her brother’s shadow and made a name for herself internationally as a warrior of repute. She was angular, attractive, had a medium hair cut and chestnut brown eyes. She lived alone in a two-storey gabled house on Akebo drive. She was hardly ever at home as either she did odd foreign jobs in Wakanda’s security interest or she was out training with the commando units that she led.

However that night she stayed at the house. As customary she meditated before going to sleep. The meditation room had a mauve interior, lighted incense and silence. Shuri’s meditation posture had the sole of left foot against her right thigh and the sole of right foot against the left thigh. Through that posture her entire nervous system was relaxed. Her eyes were closed as she concentrated on releasing tension from her mind and spirit.

One constant battle was controlling the impetuous side of her personality. At times her passion clouded her judgement.

“I have to deal with it better,” she often told herself.

Another source of contention was the relationship with her mother, Ramonda. Shuri loved her mother, but she felt that the woman didn’t appreciate fully the accomplishments she had made in life.

The rest of the house highlighted several other aspects of Shuri’s personality. There was an assortment of small statue cravings and pottery. The furniture was traditional. The house was kept tidy and orderly. Framed family photographs were ubiquitous.

The bedroom showed no sign that anyone had ever used it. Inside the closet were ceremonial dresses and headwear. The kitchen was stocked for the occasions Shuri passed through and wanted a meal.

On the table in the living room was an invitation letter to a community gathering in  eastern Wakanda. She had called the organisers and stated that she would be attending the event.

A small library was adjacent to the living room and it housed books on political theory, philosophy and Wakandan daily life. Shuri was a precocious reader as a child and she kept the habit while growing into adulthood. It was recently that she had not done any serious reading.

Although she still kept up to date with news on Wakanda from her kimoyo when she had the time.

Yet there was one book that she had hidden. It was her copy of the Black Panther combat training manual. She was instructed as a child to guard certain techniques. However she knew that T’Challa was teaching his ward several of the secret combat moves. She had no problem with her brother’s actions. He had informed her that Umba had graduated to the second phase of the training.

“I would like to see what he can really do,” Shuri had said but the opportunity never came. She liked Umba and accepted him as part of the family.

Outside of the house were a back yard, a front lawn, a driveway, a heliport, and a footpath. Miniature security cameras were posted around the house. One of the cameras captured a grey and black hawk gliding into the property.

Promptly the house’s artificial intelligence performed a scan of the bird as a security measure. The house examined the hawk with a x-ray feature to determine whether the bird was mechanical or carrying a device. It was revealed that the hawk’s internal organs were not matching that of a real bird.

Chapter

Shuri was alerted by a message from the house. She opened her eyes. “On screen,” she said.

The house produced a hologram of the hawk that had perched outside a closed window. The animal was peering intently into the house; moving its head in an excited circular motion. Then an internal image of the hawk appeared. It was a vibrating black mass. Then suddenly the hawk’s body began shape shifting into a larger organism.

The new creature burst through the window before Shuri had a chance to properly view it. She shot up from the floor as the alarms went off.

“Kill the alarms,” she said while grabbing her sonic wave cannon that was in the corner of the room.

She had no time to put on her white vibranium weave commando suit, so she drew the survival knife from the belt.

Then she exited the meditation room. The lights were still on in the house. Yet she required darkness. Her Black Panther training had taught her to fight without the ability to see the target.

“Lights off,” she said.

The house complied and fell into a quiet darkness. The meditation room was on the first floor, the same as the area the creature had entered. Shuri knew it was a matter of time before she encountered the intruder.

Yet she heard nothing. There were no footfalls or breathing. Still instinctively she sensed something was coming towards her. Shuri’s own strides were cat like and silent. She held the sonic wave cannon like a shoulder rifle. The knife was tucked to the side of the cylinder weapon.

Within four more paces it happened. The creature was in her presence. Shuri felt cold for some reason. It was not out of fear or surprise. Instead it was a part of her brain telling her that the creature was unstoppable. That it was futile to continue. Then her impetuous nature came alive and it stunted the thought.

The creature was bipedal, lanky and with a muscular frame. It stopped a few steps in front of Shuri.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Akum.” The voice was human, calm and clear.

The significance of the name charged up Shuri. The monster had awakened. She understood that he was a shape shifter, which meant he had an abnormal level of stem cells in his body and control over them. Those stem cells created tissue, bones and organs and in his case any organic form he wanted.

“Why are you here Akum?” She mentally checked that her posture was correct for the sonic wave cannon’s recoil.

“To slay you.”

“Not today.” Shuri fired the sonic wave cannon at the target. The sound wave uprooted everything in its path and then it punched through the wall.

Yet the moment Shuri squeezed the trigger she knew that it was a misfire. For Akum had moved with a superhuman speed out of her line of sight. Shuri was left flat-footed as one of Akum’s elongated appendages knocked the sonic wave cannon out of her hands.

Cleverly Shuri somersaulted backwards and thereby escaped another appendage aimed for her neck.

“Bastard,” she shouted in her mind.

She landed but was soon heading for the window on her left. She smashed through it while hearing Akum’s voice over the breaking glass.

“Bashenga never ran,” he chided.

Still Shuri was not running away- she was setting him up. Overconfidently Akum emerged out the window and he leapt into the backyard. His form became slightly clearer. The skin was green with small black circular spots. He had the attitude of a person in total control of the situation’s outcome. The gait was kingly.

Akum stood in the area that Shuri intended for him. By that time she had positioned herself next to a tree, which acted as a shield.

“House. Activate protocol one nine six. Target fourth quadrant,” she shouted. Then she blocked her ears.

The earth underneath Akum exploded. The shape shifter was tossed meters into the air.

“Bashenga never ran and neither do I,” muttered Shuri.

A flash of gold appeared at the front of the house. She recognised that it was T’Challa and Ororo teleporting. A few seconds later and Ororo was over the house where she viewed the back yard. Meanwhile T’Challa was racing along the side of the house.

Chapter

Akum knew that Shuri was a prolific warrior from the pictures of her defending Wakanda that hung in the Administration Building gallery. Still he considered her a lot less able than her brother. Hence Akum wanted to kill her first and thereby enrage T’Challa enough that the Black Panther would lose focus when they battled.

He had also seen Ororo’s pictures, which amazed him since he heard of the white haired and blue eyes weather women of Kenya who existed in Bashenga’s age.

The shape shifter fell unhurt by the explosion and he regained his stance. T’Challa, Ororo and Shuri surrounded him. He noticed T’Challa’s drawn sword, that Ororo held raw lightening in her hands and Shuri stood in a combat posture with a knife ready to pounce on him.

“We’re going to finish what Bashenga started,” said T’Challa. He had experience in combating shape shifters. His hyper vision made him aware of the subtle muscle movements as the creatures changed from one form to another.

“Really,” retorted Akum. “He lasted all but three minutes and I didn’t use half of my gifts then.”

“Enough talk,” shouted Ororo. Then she super cooled the air around Akum. A mini blizzard converged on the shape shifter and gradually he became entrapped in solid ice.

Nevertheless Akum was laughing in his mind. Reason being was that he possessed the power of fire that he received from eating a fellow ‘spirit walker’. She was a woman who transformed into a flaming hag at night. Akum had stalked her during the day and killed her. Initially he wanted her as nourishment since his shape shifting ability demanded human tissue consumption for it to sustain. Yet the encounter taught him another aspect of his powers. That he absorbed the gifts of the ‘spirit walkers’ that he consumed. From there on he hunted and killed other spirit walkers like Bashenga did.

Akum summoned his flames. The ice melted rapidly into a pool of hot water. He then stared at Ororo. “My quarrel is not with you woman. But if you insist on interfering then you shall die like these two.”

“Many have tried,” countered Ororo. Out the corner of her eye she saw T’Challa charging sword first into the blazing Akum.

The Black Panther stabbed the sword through the back and out the front of the stunned shape shifter. T’Challa’s adrenaline abated the pain from the heat. The golden time space computers on the sword glowed in the fire.

Akum managed to turn his face to T’Challa. “Bashenga would be proud.” Afterwards the fire burned out and T’Challa extracted his sword from the body. There was barely a sound made when Akum dropped.

Nonetheless T’Challa sent his sword through the shape shifter’s skull to ensure the kill.

Ororo dispelled her lightening and she flew down by Shuri’s side. “Your land mines actually proved handy,” commented the wind rider.

“I told you they were for these kind of situations,” said Shuri.

The both of them hugged because they had a cordial relationship. Then Shuri returned her focus on the deceased.

“So this is the bastard that almost killed Bashenga,” she said, “how did he awaken?”

“We haven’t found out the reason as yet,” replied T’Challa.

“We’re assuming he held a grudge against Bashenga that why he came after you,” explained Ororo.

“He was fast like us T’Challa,” stated Shuri. “It was really a miracle that Bashenga had survived.”

The siblings embraced for a moment.

“It probably was,” said T’Challa.

However if T’Challa, Ororo and Shuri had the presence of mind to scan the vicinity they might had noticed another grey and black hawk observing them from a tree not too far from the house.

Akum was a prudent warrior before his transformation. He had a back up plan for all his battles. Including the one that had just ended.

The hawk’s eyes gleamed, and then Akum the shape shifter flew out of the tree and into the  sky. Apart from Akum’s other gifts, he also held the power of limited multiplicity generation. Thus he had sent a portion of himself after Shuri. It was an ability he absorbed.

“I’ll eventually have my revenge, but lets see what this New World has to offer first,” Akum said.

As he soared into the interior of Africa, Akum tried to understand the reason his body became immobilised when he tried consuming Bashenga. It never occurred to him that the extremely high level of toxicity in the first king’s blood from the herb was the cause.

Other men had tried eating the herb and became comatose. Only those of the direct bloodline of Bashenga were safe.

Chapter

T’Challa and Ororo informed Zurike’s family of his passing and that he would receive a state funeral. The couple had realised through investigations that Zurike usually travelled to the vicinity of Akum’s cavern to meditate. Thus he was needlessly murdered.

After the funeral T’Challa and Ororo headed for Daidan.

Daidan, Central Medical Complex

Nakia Exon was secretly working with Augustus’s chief geneticist on Malice’s X gene. Exon was not told what the project was for. She would not have gone along with it if the truth were known.

Daidan, Maximum Security Prison

Premier Augustus was not going to wait around for talk shops and promised treaties for super human disarmament that he knew would never be fulfilled.

“I will personally disarm this world,” he said to himself as he witnessed a sedated Malice being returned to her prison cell from the laboratory, in preparation for T’Challa’s and Ororo’s visit. When he had started his plan she was not apart of it, but through luck the witch had landed in his hands and she provided the catalyst that sped up the process.

“Just two more days and it will all be over,” said Augustus.

Next Story: Disarmament

Followed by: Blade Ultimatum

Middle East on Fire

Kings of the Earth Pt I

 

www.condron.us

Black Panther and Storm in Blade The Vampire King

Previously in The Black Panther and Storm:

For over ten thousand years warrior kings called Black Panthers ruled and protected the isolated and unconquerable African nation Wakanda. In their isolation Wakanda became the most scientifically advanced nation on Earth. T’Challa was the latest Black Panther, and he believed that his great nation was obligated to use its resources to help the less fortunate; defenseless peoples of the world against tyranny, corruption, and megalomaniac super humans.

Black Panther later married Ororo ‘Storm’ Munroe the non-Wakandan mutant heroine.

Story: Blade the Vampire King

T’Challa and Ororo broke through the moonlight that coated the lake’s surface like a thin sheet of ice. T’Challa then effortlessly lifted his wife almost completely out of the water with both hands. Her white hair falling freely into his face. Her laughter filling the void made by the silent midnight. The droplets on her medium brown body sparkled like white diamonds. He brought her down gently. Then they kissed several times-each one as cloudy as the last.

An hour before dawn, they lay arm in arm on the bank; dreaming peacefully. T’Challa’s compact, muscular frame providing a solid resting place for Ororo’s curvy body. For the moment they were far away from stopping the machinations of mad men and the governance of a nation.

Personally for Ororo, she had a reprieve from fighting her life and the lives of other mutants in a world that distrusted them. Once in a while, she questioned if her mentor Charles Xavier’s dream of mutant and human peacefully coexistence would ever be realised in her lifetime. He said that it did when she had married T’Challa. But she wanted it to be broader than that. And every day a new obstacle emerged that prevented Xavier’s Utopia.

Still she did her part as the leader of a sovereign nation. She got the mutant policy that protected all X gene carriers accepted by the United Nations member states. Her X Men friend and colleague Henry ‘Beast’ McCoy had access to Wakanda’s genetic laboratories to find a reversal for the de powered X gene phenomenon. She also performed mutant work in the rest of Africa and the Middle East.

Thus Ororo slept in the surreal paradise while night loosened her grip on the world. Cirrus clouds jotted on the horizon. There would be rain that day. Although if Ororo wanted a sun filled day she merely had to think it and her weather manipulation powers would whisk the clouds off, but to the detriment of the weather in some other region.

“Every thing is interconnected,” she had said when the elemental powers had opened her eyes to the world’s weather patterns. Then she had realised that her emotions affected the weather. So she had mastered herself to avoid drastic mood swings.

It was the mastery that helped her overcome Dracula, the vampire lord. He had bit her, but she defeated him in battle before the three days it took for a victim to become a full vampire. Since then she had never felt for blood.

It was only once that she pondered on life if she had transformed into a vampire. “The X Men would have hunted me down and I may have even encountered Blade the Vampire hunter,” she said to herself.

T’Challa had told her stories about his friend Blade. From what she heard, Blade would have relentlessly pursued, despite her elemental abilities. Most likely he would have attacked in the day when she slept. Sneaking up on her coffin and then stabbing a silver stake through her heart.

Presently Ororo’s slumber continued. She dreamt of travelling through Atlantis, the Shi’ar, and Wakanda. All three locations were filled with wonderment from the people to the cities. Atlantis was ever bright and bursting forth with life energy. Shi’ar was a melting pot of alien races and species. Wakanda was warm and vibrant.

Meanwhile T’Challa’s sub consciousness generated images of a victory that had remained out of his grasps.

Wakanda had solved all the world’s major problems. All the countries had adopted his nation’s practices with regards to people, food, medicine and energy usage. And most importantly he had not done it through Dr Victor Von Doom’s methods. He was another national leader who held the same ambitions, but relied on force and deceit. T’Challa had promised himself never to become that way.

Then there was Dr Alex Soberk, another world leader who sought to aid the world. Yet T’Challa was unclear of the man’s true motivations-whether he was genuinely concern or something else.

Usually he and Ororo spoke about their long-term visions, which had the commonality of helping humanity.

Yet despite T’Challa’s possessing the power to do good in the world there were forces opposing him. But they made his convictions stronger. Thus he battled and out manoeuvred every stumbling block in his path. Even though new ones kept on appearing.

One such setback had led him to a hellish dimension once in pursuit of its Lord Mesphisto. There T’Challa had used the nobility of his soul to defeat the ‘Reality Manipulator.’ In another altercation he had ripped out the demon’s heart.

Jarringly the dream sequence in T’Challa’s mind changed scene. He was in front of the tomb of the father of the nation and his direct ancestor, Bashenga. Over ten millennia ago, Bashenga had sealed off Wakanda’s borders and barred anyone from entering, in order to protect  outsiders from citizens mutated by a crashed vibranium meteorite’s radiation. Hence Wakanda’s isolation was created.

T’Challa’s mind captured the exactness of the bright tomb. Electrical lights shined down from the ceiling onto the decorated metal coffin that housed Bashenga’s remains.

Even in sleep, T’Challa felt awed at the gravity of the first king’s resting-place. Then he started to become conscious to what he was dreaming. Since seeing an ancestor’s tomb in a dream was usually a bad omen.

Still T’Challa neared the tomb and he opened it.

There was a sudden intrusion into the dream. Soon everything became hazy, and he awakened to the annoying alarm of the kimoyo that was near to his head. His senses were triggered; thus his right hand moved sharply from Ororo’s body to the communication device. He peered down at Ororo’s head that was lying on his chest. She was still asleep, breathing softly.

The alarm indicated that a call was coming through. He placed the kimoyo to his ear and answered.

“T’Challa this is Blade,” said the rough voice. “Is Ororo there too?”

T’Challa looked at his wife. “Yes, she’s here.”

“Good. I need both of you to meet me at red wood forest 124 degrees east 74 degrees west Colorado pronto,” said Blade like he was running at the same time.

T’Challa’s mind brought up an image of the speaker. He was six foot tall, tattoos on the clean shaved back of his head, wearing a long black leather coat, shades, Teflon body armour strapped onto his chest and an array of weapons at his disposal. It was the attire of  a person that didn’t blend in with the crowd. Instead it stated Blade’s intention-that he came to bring a world of pain to the vampires he hunted. Personality wise, he was a natural leader with a tough as nails attitude.

As he spoke Ororo awakened. She heard the gruff tone of the speaker.

“We’ll be there,” said T’Challa.

Then the call ended and the world around the lake returned to silence. “What’s it about?” asked Ororo in a light accented voice, and staring at T’Challa.

“He didn’t say.” Lifting his left hand from off her back. “But it was urgent.”

Soon both were standing and tying the knots on their robes. T’Challa rolled up the blanket that they had slept on.

“Ready?” asked Ororo as she looked at her six-foot husband. She was a few inches shorter than he was.

“Yes.”

Ororo’s eyes changed from blue to white as she summoned  wind currents , which took up both T’Challa and her into their hands and carried them across the high trees and the training ground towards the house. The four-storey abode fitted into its rustic environment. A greenhouse was situated in the back.

They entered through their unlocked bedroom window. Then they hurriedly dressed into their uniforms. T’Challa donning the Black Panther apparel that acted as a body armour. He pulled the mask over his face. The lenses were white. Meanwhile Ororo slipped into the black and yellow uniform.

T’Challa left a message with the house for when Umba awakened. However, the stocky fifteen year old was not  in his bedroom, but in the library. There he slept in a comfortable chair. The Book of Kings lay on his chest. He had been reading through the night as well as gathering the maps of ancient Wakanda for an adventure he had planned with his girlfriend Enzi. They were going to find the greatest and most dangerous mutated foe that Bashenga had imprisoned, Akum the shape shifter.

After leaving the message with the computerised house, T’Challa gave Blade’s co ordinates to his sword. Ororo stood close to him. Subsequently the sword teleported them to Blade’s meeting place.

Chapter

Eric “Blade” Brooks seldom made an erroneous decision. That habit had saved his life and others for the century he had lived.

But I should have never come here, he thought as he ran briskly through the ancient red wood forest. He skated through ferns and pointed branches that stuck out like wriggled fingers in the brush. He leapt over  logs and hidden drops that could swallow up a man. His footing was sure even in the fading light. And he smelt his pursuers; the superhuman team called the Thunderbolts.

The closest chaser was Venom. A sleazy man draped by a deep black alien symboite that gave him the abilities of a spider. Yet there was more to it than that. Venom grew in mass whenever he confronted enemies larger and powerful than himself. The alien also allowed the man to literally morph into his environment in complete camouflage.

Plus he is a cannibal, thought Blade as he heard the trees cracking and then crashing down behind him. He glanced to the rear and he saw the feral Venom racing on all fours with the power of a Great Gorilla. The eyes were splashes of white. Carnivorous teeth lined  both the upper and lower jaw like a raptor’s. An equally reptilian blood red tongue hung loosely from the snout.

Without slowing his stride, Blade slipped his automatic handgun from the holster and fired freely at Venom’s skull. The silver bullets ripped into the alien skin temporarily slowing the beast, although the wounds began healing rapidly.

Then Blade saw a ghostly woman travelling directly through the thick red wood trees to his left. She was Moonstone. The little light that remained played with her honey blonde hair. Her startling good looks betrayed the psychopathic nature of their bearer. As a former psychiatrist she had taunted her patients into suicide for her pleasure. She appeared to be in her late thirties.

There was not much Blade could do to defend himself against her since she was intangible. It was due to her control of an alien gravitational sphere; hence she able to change her density.

I have to accelerate further, he thought.

At that point, he saw a golden flash ahead of him. Then T’Challa and Ororo stood in the same spot as the flash had occurred. Instantly he sensed that Dracula had bitten Ororo.

“Moonstone,” shouted Blade nevertheless.

At once, Ororo flew forward and upwards into Moonstone’s path. The wind rider had read the files Wakanda’s secret service had on the blonde woman; hence Ororo knew how to combat Moonstone’s intangibility.

Ororo’s began controlling the gravitational force around Moonstone. Resulting in, the psychopath becoming tangible.

“Got you,” muttered Ororo as Moonstone flew into her grasps.

Then Ororo shot her forehead into the woman’s face. The wind rider felt her opponent become limp. Ororo released her, and Moonstone fell into a clump of undergrowth.

Meanwhile Venom had gained on Blade; the monster’s clawed hands moving in for the kill. T’Challa whistled a signal to his friend. Blade understood and he spun around sharply to face the on rushing foe. He pulled his adamantium samurai sword from the scabbard on his back and deactivated the defence mechanism on the sword’s hilt.

T’Challa withdrew his sword and joined Blade’s side.

“You take high, I’ll take low,” said T’Challa rapidly.

Then in fleeting movements, Blade ran up the side of the nearest tree, and he somersaulted off in a spinning  barrel motion towards Venom’s head. Concurrently T’Challa dissected the confused Venom lower torso with a sweep of his dark force energy blade sword. The creature’s cry out was silenced as Blade decapitated it.

Still danger was not averted. The second half of the Thunderbolt team hovered over head. They were Norman Osborn clad in his super armour suit and his accomplice was the severely mentally unstable man called Sentry.

“That’s as far as you go,” said Norman Osborn. His voice equally as cracked as the man hovering next to him. ” T’Challa and Ororo the President is going to have a field day with you two aiding and abetting a fugitive.”

The leader of the Thunderbolts nodded to the man who had one personality named Sentry and another called the Void. His real name was Robert Reynolds, and he had a boyish face when as Sentry. But those innocuous features disappeared whenever the Void personality took over; hence he appeared soulless; like an empty shell.

T’Challa’s hyper vision made him aware of the nod.

Sentry’s going after Blade, he thought.

T’Challa tightened his grip on the sword and then he said to the time space computers on the hilt, “Time shift by four.”

The file on Sentry stated that his vast powers came from his molecules existing three seconds ahead of normal time.

“So I’m gambling that jacking up my molecules to four seconds should give me the edge if it does not kill me first. And taking out Sentry now is better than leaving him on our trail”, T’Challa said internally.

In normal time, Sentry had descended faster than a heartbeat. Yet T’Challa observed him. As the madman came close to Blade, the Black Panther shot his sword forward, but his vision blurred due to the strain the time shift placed on his body.

The sword missed the intended mark and instead ruptured Sentry’s left shoulder. T’Challa couldn’t withstand the time force any longer as his molecules would lose their natural shape.

“Normal time,” he shouted.

To everyone else, T’Challa had not moved yet he managed to stab Sentry. The insane man fell on his knees in agony. T’Challa withdrew the sword and he collapsed.

All the while, Ororo released two massive lightening bolts at Osborn and he was knocked across the forest.

Ororo swooped down at T’Challa and she grabbed the sword.

“Home,” she shouted, and promptly T’Challa, Blade and her disappeared.

Chapter

Soon after, T’Challa came to his senses as he got fresh air on the veranda. The feeling that he played with life on every ‘time shift’ lingered on his mind. The chance he may never return was ever present.

Ororo concentrated on Blade who also exited the house. “What happened back there?”

“Haven’t you seen the news,” snapped back Blade.

Ororo remembered the headlines she had seen in the daily security briefings “Blade tied to a series of grisly homicides.” In the photographs Blade’s name was either smeared on the walls or on the ground next to the victims. She returned his gaze.

“You killed familiars,” said Ororo, she had learnt the term of vampire human lackeys from T’Challa.

“No. Vampires are killing innocent humans in my name. Proclaiming that I sent them to do it. They say that I’m their king.”

“But that isn’t true,” said T’Challa.

“The general population doesn’t that. Don’t they,” commented Blade.

“So why were you in Colorado?” asked Ororo.

“The first killing took place in a town called Westchester, not far from where we just left. I was investigating for clues.”

“Well don’t you have MI-13 to back you up?” inquired T’Challa, standing upright.

“I got put on leave. Her Majesty’s government doesn’t want a controversial person such as myself apart of her public super hero team. All my team mates are debarred from assisting me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Ororo.

“You can stay here in Wakanda if your like,” offered T’Challa.

“No. But I will want the use your spy network to find out the people who are framing me.”

“Do you have names?” asked Ororo.

“A few,” responded Blade.

“Then lets go,” said T’Challa.

They travelled by teleportation to the secret service headquarters. To Blade Wakanda’s secret service operation resembled all the others he had seen since working with the S.H.I.E.L.D sanctioned unit, the Vanguards and later the United Kingdom’s MI-13 paranormal strike squad. All the personnel had identification badges that only allowed them access to a certain floor or computer terminal. There was little chatter along the halls. It was bodies moving from here to there each with a specialised task to complete. Yet they broke their zombie like silence to greet warmly him and their leaders.

It was Blade’s first visit to Wakanda. He had often heard the country described as a paradise.

“But there is no such thing in the world,” he said inwardly. Speaking from experience since he had travelled the Earth extensively.

With regards to T’Challa and Ororo, the Daywalker liked that they were warriors first and rich politicians second when they were in his company. He did not like upper echelon people. Mainly because the vampires he hunted hid in those refined circles. Yet it also had to do with the circumstances of his birth.

He was the son a prostitute from the impoverished side of London. She had died in childbirth. Thus he had spent his early childhood amongst the filth and fog of the city. He  had felt the disdain the rich had for his ilk.

Still as the Nightstalker observed his guests, T’Challa was also contemplating the situation his friend was in.

“These events might drive him back to fighting his war in the shadows. After he had brought the existence of wide spread vampirism to the fore forth,” said T’Challa to himself. “He should stay more at the frontline in the public consciousness. It will help his cause better. And I’m surprised he hasn’t brought up Ororo’s past with Dracula. I’m sure he has sensed it.”

Meanwhile Ororo was thinking that Blade was as T’Challa had described him.

And either one of us could have died if I had crossed over to that darkness, thought Ororo. Now we’re associates.

The group entered the control room. A special team of technicians were assigned for such impromptu requests from T’Challa and Ororo. Blade gave the names of the global vampire clan leaders.

“It will take some time to find them,” stated Ororo.

Blade surveyed the room before he answered. He thought about his lover Jacqueline “Spitfire” Critcton in the MI-13. He had to speak with her. Tell her goodbye and thanks for the memories, because he had no intention of rejoining the team.

“Not a problem. But can you get me a secure line to Britain. I have to speak with some one,” he said.

Several minutes later, Blade was seated alone inside a sterile communications bay. The cordless phone at the side of his head. As he spoke with Spitfire he imagined that she would have become distraught and angry with him. She was part vampire. But one of the few that had no thirst for human plasma.

“So your ending it like that,” said Spitfire with the steely calmness of one who had fought in World War II. “You get a bit of bad publicity and you’re ending it like that.”

“You know I don’t care about public image,” said Blade sedately.

“Then what? How long have we’ve been together? How are you so sure that I don’t want to join you? Not even a word Eric. You didn’t even say that you were leaving the country.”

“I didn’t want to involve you.”

“Where are you now?”

“I can’t say.”

“All right. I can understand that. But know this. There are only two people that I love, you and my son. I lost my son and now I’m losing you. And please don’t use this situation to regress.”

Blade scratched the side of his head puzzled by the last expression. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve made a lot of progress human wise. You laughed more and enjoyed life more outside of the vampire hunting. I would like to remember you that way.”

Blade said nothing for a few seconds. Indeed he had opened up more of himself when he was with her.

“I hear you but I have to go now. Goodbye.”

“Farewell and good luck,” said Spitfire and then a dial tone came on the line.

Blade remained in the bay for a few more minutes as he rationalised Spitfire’s observation.

She’s right in a way, he thought. In fighting to save humanity I’m risking losing mines.

Then he left the communications bay and returned to the control room.

“We located those suspects,” said T’Challa.

“So quickly,” said Blade.

“We’re bringing it up on the main screen,” informed Ororo. “They didn’t seem to be covering their tracks.”

The cinematic screen alighted with the satellite pictures of the Mediterranean Island Ralter. It was nightfall, industrial and suburban nights blazed. A few cars travelled like minute creatures along the streets.

“All the clan leaders are there,” said Ororo. ” In a run down garment factory.”

“You know why they weren’t covering their tail, because they wanted me to find them. It’s a trap.”

“For a final showdown,” remarked T’Challa.

“Then they’ll get one,” said Blade.

Chapter

Eight luxury cars were outside of the unused Olton garment factory. Heavily armed ‘familiars’ waited by the vehicles. They kept vigilantly looking in every direction. Yet they missed the golden flash a few yards from the northeast fence.

Ororo neutralised the guards with a web of electrical bolts from her hands. Then T’Challa and Blade nimbly scaled the wire fence. The Black Panther went to the front of the factory while Blade headed for the back. Ororo flew towards the roof. Subsequently they broke into the derelict building.

T’Challa’s and Blade’s hyper senses directed them to the centre of the ground floor. Ororo’s bio electrical awareness also zeroed in on the same location.

There was the sound of a person struggling. It came from a lone vampire bounded and gagged on a table, which was surrounded by eight computer monitors. This was the sight that met the three intruders.

On the screens were the vampire clan leaders. Internet cameras were attached to each screen.

“Good evening, Blade. Your travelling in illustrious company these days,” commented the vampire from the screen at the head of the table.

Blade watched the ashen creature on the table. It was thin, white eyed and growling.

“What’s this about?” the Daywalker asked.

“We would like to know the same thing,” expressed the leader. He had the tone of a big corporate executive. “We are equally concerned about the blasphemy that is spreading about you being our king.”

“That’s funny because the way I saw it was that you ganged up to discredit me,” said Blade.

“We did no such thing. We are businessmen amongst other things. Stirring you up would be bad for business,” stated the leader.

“So what’s his problem?” Blade pointed to the prisoner.

“The vampires that killed those humans were on the lower ranks. They complained of hearing voices in their heads that compelled them to kill in your name,” said the leader. “We believe the older of our kind aren’t susceptible to these ‘voices’. So we give you this one to do your own investigations with. By all appearances he is still possessed by this strangeness. In  return we hope you remember this day of co operation.”

“Is that all?” asked Blade.

“Yes,” responded the leader.

Promptly Blade drew his automatic handgun and fired into all the monitors. Spewing debris into the chained vampire’s face. The gun’s report was hypnotic. The vampire suddenly became quiet and still as the dead monitors. His eyes flickered at the three hunters before him.

Ororo had an idea.

“I’ll ask the professor to help,” said Ororo, taking the kimoyo from her belt. She dialled the number to the phone she had given him. T’Challa and Blade spoke while she waited for Xavier to answer.

“Believe any of  this?” asked T’Challa.

“Anything is possible,” replied Blade as he holstered the weapon.

Ororo began speaking with Professor Charles Xavier and then she hung up.

“He’ll do it,” she said.

Chapter

Charles Xavier was the most powerful telepath on Earth. He was born into privilege life, yet he dedicated most of his time towards the betterment of mutantkind.

Ororo, T’Challa and Blade along with the imprisoned vampire travelled to Muir Island off the coast of Scotland to meet Xavier or Professor X as he was nicknamed.

A twenty four-hour ferry serviced the route between the island and the mainland. When blown, its loud horn went across the small port town and into the higher land where the mutant research facility was situated.

The facility was several metres from a steep seaside cliff and its electrical lights competed with the moon in brightness.

This was where Professor X worked from tirelessly. He had a lot of memories stored in the concrete and steel structure. Some of them were terrible.

The decided meeting area was where Professor X had been previously shot in the head by a fellow X man. The shooter was a person that he had vouched for even though Ororo initially had told him of her reservations about the character. A person that Ororo had eventually considered a friend.

Ororo hugged her mentor as they met.

“Good to see you,” said Professor X.

“Same here,” said Ororo. “We kept the vampire a safe distance away in case anything ‘squirrelly’ occurs as Hank would say.”

“I would like to speak with Blade afterwards, if he has the time,” said Xavier.

“Okay,” said Ororo as they released each other.

Subsequently Xavier telepathically entered the mind of the vampire who was on the beach with T’Challa and Blade. Professor X discovered something so horrific that it compounded his request to speak with Blade.

After the mental probe was completed, Ororo informed her husband and their friend of the success.

“Do we need this vampire for anything else,” asked Blade.

“No,” replied Ororo.

Then Blade sharply removed a silver stake from his belt and he plunged it into the decrepit vampire’s heart. The creature squealed and combusted into red flames.

“Good,” commented Blade. “I’ll meet the Professor now.” Wiping the stake on his trousers.

The Professor and Blade began their conservation at the cliff. T’Challa and Ororo stayed on the shore, holding each other while watching the waves coming in. A Pelican shook its head from time to time as it slept on a nearby rock.

The Black Panther had met Professor X before the marriage to Ororo. They had teamed up in a battle with the Lemurian Dromedan.

“Did Xavier say the reason for the talk?”

“No. Neither what he saw in the vampire’s mind. I think he wants to tell Blade that part personally.”

Up on the cliff, Xavier and Blade discussed vampires and humans. At once Xavier pointed out that he lacked significant insight on the vampire issue. But he had a few questions.

“Can we mass manufacture artificial blood for their consumption so they’ll stop feeding on humans?”

“They find the taste bland,” responded Blade.

“So there is no means of peaceful coexistence between the two species,” commented Xavier.

“Your wrong to call them a species. They are diseases. A plague to mankind.”

Xavier watched him intently. “I’m going to show you what I glimpsed in that vampire’s mind and surely it will make you rethink your position on classifying vampires as a human sub species.”

With those words Xavier projected the telling images and the location of the real perpetrator of the murders into Blade’s mind.

Chapter

The mid day sun blazed down mercilessly on the gated community in the nation, Auburn. It was Saturday. Usually the place was teeming with activity as the population of two thousand people went on with their business. But on that day the lanes were empty as well as the houses. Yet no one had left the Vale.

T’Challa, Ororo and Blade walked through the community’s entrance. Blade became aware of the terrible force present, and his heart sank to believe that the visions were true.

“Its in the playground,” said Blade dryly. He pointed to the left.

Soon enough the three arrived at the site and in the centre of the playground was a young woman seated on a swing. She moved back and forth absentmindedly. Her focus was on Blade.

“I want to-,” said Blade but he couldn’t complete the sentence.

“We’ll stay here,” said T’Challa.

Blade unsheathed his sword, and he walked cautiously towards the vampire. She was in jeans and a long sleeved shirt. Her hair was combed in one. She appeared to be twenty. On the surface, there was nothing abnormal about her. Then Blade caught the colour of her eyes. They were silver.

“I’m glad to finally meet you,” said the woman innocently. “They call me Petra.”

Blade didn’t respond. For so long he alone was the Day walker because a vampire had turned his mother moments before she had given birth to him. Hence he was born with all the vampire strengths, but none of their weaknesses. But there was something else within Petra that disturbed Blade.

“Dracula,” he said.

“That’s correct. He’s also apart of me like you are. But I like you better. That’s why I did those things so the whole world knows how I thought about you.”

She has both our DNA, thought Blade.

“The killing has to stop,” he said.

“I concur. It was getting boring,” remarked Petra. “But since you’re here we can start something else.”

Her words told Blade that she had the mind of a child. It was a sickness. Nonetheless he was emotionless as he formulated a means of attack. The objective was to take her alive.

“Aren’t you hearing me?” asked Petra.

“You mentioned ‘they’. There are others like you?”

“They think I’m a troublemaker, drawing too much attention, so I was pushed out.”

“Take me to them,” said Blade.

Petra shook her head to say no. “They’ll hurt you.”

“I’m not afraid so let’s go meet them.”

She shook her head vehemently. “I shouldn’t have done those things. I didn’t think you would have found me. I have put you in danger. I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

“Petra wait-”

The woman didn’t listen instead she dropped the temperature around Blade to below zero with a mere thought. As a result the vampire slayer was trapped in ice.

She rose from the swing. Then she noticed that Blade’s friends were running towards her. The hunger in her was still not satisfied, and she liked her meals warm, so the freezing of T’Challa and Ororo was not an option.

I’ll overpower them, she considered.

Then Petra began morphing into a creature that appeared in nightmares. Her clothing transformed along with her body. Rapidly the woman turned into a grey humanoid bat. Her mass also grew as well as her height. She stood at six foot eight. Her silver eyes were radiating as brightly as the sun. Two fangs stretched from her upper jaw. Wings meant for gliding emerged from her arms and sides. Then she released a high pitch scream.

The sound struck T’Challa’s hypersensitive ears; thus he lost his balance and stumbled forward.

Ororo released an electrical bolt from her right hand. Sadly an electrical bolt summoned by Petra from her hands met Ororo’s raw power. Then the vampire caused a gust that smacked Ororo back across the field. The sky darkened as storm clouds were gathering due to the creature’s rage affecting the weather.

Petra- the new age in vampires lumbered forward on her insteps. A species who were immune to garlic and sunlight. They had the power to control weaker minded vampires telepathically. Flight. Elemental energy manipulation was innate to them. Their morphing modes included human, bat and mist. Super level strength, rate of accelerated healing and hyper senses were higher than a normal vampire’s. They weren’t able to create other vampires of their kind through bite infections; rather the females in the colony gave birth to them. Yet more dangerously, they had the thirst for human plasma.

The monster stood over T’Challa, ready to drain him of life.

Chapter

Meanwhile Ororo steadied her self in the wind currents. She withdrew her knife and nanites delivery system from the belt and then darted into Petra.

Fight me power for power, thought Ororo, so while you’re distracted with that I’ll reach close enough to strike you.

T’Challa made a defensive slash with his sword, slicing the monster’s clawed hand. Then he quickly rolled out of Petra’s reach.

Suddenly the monster was aware of Ororo’s approach. Without much thought, Petra shot out another dazzling streak of lightening at the wind rider. Ororo dodged it skilfully and she sent numerous bolts of lightening at Petra.

T’Challa managed to grab his nanites delivery system which was pen shaped. He slipped out from Petra’s line of sight. He hadn’t totally regained his composure, yet he had enough for a leap at the monster. He made it to Petra’s left shoulder, and he stabbed the delivery system into her neck. He planted the sword into the arm for leverage.

Annoyed Petra attempted to shrug him off. That moment allowed Ororo to travel as quick as lightening to the monster where she struck her delivery system into the other side of the neck.

The nanites quickly created a bio chemical disturbance that deactivated most of Petra’s abilities.

T’Challa removed his sword and leapt off the monster. Soon Petra staggered and collapsed.

Ororo quickly got to Blade and she heated the air around him; hence the ice prison melted away.

“Much appreciated,” said Blade.

“Don’t mention it,” Ororo said.

The slayer turned at Petra. Her kind was a new world wide threat. He required new weapons and intelligence in order to combat them.

“So what will you do now?” asked T’Challa.

“I’ll take her to MI-13. I’ll be needing more of those nanities,” replied Blade. He realised that this wasn’t his fight alone. Petra’s kind needed to be found quickly with every possible manpower available.

At least you’ll be clearing your name, thought T’Challa.

“Before we do that. The community needs to be searched for survivors,” said Ororo.

Subsequently the three went house to house; unfortunately, no one had survived Petra’s attack. Thereafter they returned to Wakanda. Then Blade departed with Petra for England.

Chapter

Dasdian

Nakia Exon checked into the house she had rented under another identity for the duration of her stay in the country. She was intent on seeing the geneticist Dr Richard Lowe, an old colleague of hers. She had heard that he was head of the government’s gene research. She wanted some freelance work from him.

Meanwhile Dr Lowe was under orders from the Premier to start working on Malice’s mutant abilities for his secret disarmament plan.

Wakanda,

Umba thought less about his mother, Exon and more about the creature that Bashenga had captured. The teenager and his girlfriend Enzi navigated a narrow stairwell that went deep into the earth. They were looking for Akum’s statue that the map stated was in a cavern at the bottom of the stairs.

Umba’s computerised visor glowed softly. While the sixteen-year-old Enzi led them down the stairs. She was equally exited about seeing Akum’s statue for the first time.

Finally the explorers arrived at the base of the steps, but there was no statue.

“Probably they moved it,” said a disappointed Umba.

“Its possible,” affirmed Enzi as she swirled the flash light beam around the cavern.

Downtown Central City

Akum strode through the crowd silently. The style of clothes fitting him perfectly. He had just asked a fellow pedestrian for Bashenga. The man had watched him amazed and asked he if required medical treatment.

“No,” he had replied.

“King Bashenga has long died.”

Akum was shocked that Bashenga had been made king. “What of his relatives?”

“Is something wrong with your head? Look, look, those are his descendants. T’Challa and Shuri,” said the disgruntled man as he pointed to a showroom window. Two pictures that were for sale showed the respective descendants.

“Thank you,” Akum had said. Later on he learnt through several other annoyed yet sympathetic people that T’Challa was the leader of the country.

So Akum the shape shifter who required feeding on human tissue to sustain his powers plotted. As he walked to the seat of power his plan of vengeance became clearer. He would kill Bashenga’s descendants.

Occasionally he paused and reflected on the towering buildings around him.

What other wonders have occurred since my time? He pondered. And could this new age be better than the one I remembered?

Next Story: Age of Bashenga

www.condron.us

Black Panther and Storm in Soberk’s Ascension Pt II

Previously in The Black Panther and Storm:

For over ten thousand years warrior kings called Black Panthers ruled and protected the isolated and unconquerable African nation Wakanda. In their isolation Wakanda became the most scientifically advanced nation on Earth. T’Challa was the latest Black Panther, and he believed that his great nation was obligated to use its resources to help the less fortunate; defenseless peoples of the world against tyranny, corruption, and megalomaniac super humans.

Black Panther later married Ororo ‘Storm’ Munroe the non-Wakandan mutant heroine.

Story: Soberk’s Ascension Pt II

Despite what others had thought, we the denizens of the Asgard dimension were never Gods, nor royalty. We were livestock. Like cattle left to graze until fat and then slaughtered on the appointed day, pondered Loki.

Ragnarok was the day of our demise. Violent and horrible so that our released essence provided nourishment for our unseen captors. Then we were reborn, and so the cycle continued.

In between the time of rebirth and destruction, we as ignorant prisoners had lived idyllic with golden apples, mead and wild boar to hunt. In a society that resembled the Vikings on Earth.

Thor had broken that cursed wheel before he exiled me to this wretched place.

“But you Soberk have given me the means of restarting my version of Ragnarok so that I may return to Heroes Hall and wipe the slate clean of my wrong doings in this present incarnation of life. For that I thank you,” said Loki with a hyena laughter.

Two curved ten-inch horns protruded his forehead, apart from that he was a humanoid in his prime. His face was long and taunt.

His hands holding the sooty cauldron while staring into the still water that was showing Soberk.

The trickster raised up, and he viewed his primeval citadel. Inhaling the musk scent from wild animal furs that were ubiquitous on the stone floors and walls. The stale mildew pages of old magical texts. It was a primitive dwelling as compared to the structures that were on modern Earth. Still, the silence and coldness of his abode comforted Loki.

The greatest master of the darker side of magic was Loki, the trickster God. Ever conniving due to his alienation from the other Gods and the wish to have things his way. His schemes often entangled mankind; thus he kept an eye on Earth.

His newest plot involved Dr Alex Soberk, because the man had saved the Earth from a seemingly unstoppable plague. More importantly, Soberk had done the deed with magic.

“How did this mortal achieve such a thing?” Loki had asked himself insanely. He had never seen human magic used on such a wide scale. Then again, Soberk did not resemble an ordinary human. Rather the slender mid thirties man had hard brown skin and grey glowing eyes.

Bursting with interest, Loki observed through the waters of time and space Soberk’s ascension, and he discovered something that amazed him. Soberk had increased his magical energy with the essence of the creature that caused the destruction of Asgard in every cycle. Surtur.

Presently Loki focused on the water and muttered a command phrase. The liquid became black and it churned for a while as the image in time and space changed. Then the water became placid and the image it featured was that of Kallus who had in his possession the artefact that carried Surtur’s essence. It was he who had boosted Soberk’s magic.

Kallus looked fifty years old and from the images he was in a den of spies. But he had a hallmark that pleased the trickster.

“He’s a schemer like myself,” said Loki.

He saw Kallus’s hiding place for the artefact. It was in a warehouse that Kallus used as a base.

“Curse you Thor,” said Loki in a rabid manner as he recollected that his brother had taken away his ability to interfere with the past. Hence he was unable to steal the artefact from Kallus then and there.

“Still it is a small matter. I will just simply take it in the present time stream,” said Loki.

Thus he viewed the warehouse in the present time. There he saw that Kallus was in a stand off against a man and a woman. And Loki was familiar with both of them.

The woman was Ororo. Looking at her, Loki remembered her fragrance and beauty that charmed him even as he was seducing her with the power to replace Thor as Thunder God all those years ago. She had vivid white hair and haunting deep blue eyes. Almost six foot, yet her weather manipulation ability toppled giants.

Standing next to her was T’Challa. The trickster god frowned. He had encountered the man in the Avengers (the super hero group he had indirectly formed through one his schemes). T’Challa wore the unmistakable Black Panther body suit armour. He was in his mid thirties, six foot tall, strong and athletically built.

Loki watched on in curiosity at the confrontation. However, he also waited for the opportunity to steal the artefact.

Chapter

“You slipped,” muttered T’Challa, then with blinding speed he was racing into Kallus.

They have finally caught me, Kallus thought as he motioned towards the gun on the nearby table. But T’Challa had arrived in front of him. The next thing the spymaster knew was that the Black Panther had him by the throat. He dropped the document from his hand. A few seconds later, he lost consciousness caused by a lack of oxygen to the brain.

T’Challa then hoisted Kallus onto his left shoulder. He adjusted the sword on his back to make room for the man.

Meanwhile Ororo observed the environment in terms of bio electrical activity, and she had sensed another human in the warehouse. The person was approaching the nerve centre, which had the blaring news monitors and snaking coaxial cables on the floor. However the person was blind to their presence due to the partitions around the area that climbed to the ceiling.

Ororo raised a clenched fist sharply and it conveyed the army signal for halt. T’Challa saw it; hence he stopped his motions. Then she lifted one finger; indicating the number of combatants.

Afterwards she nodded to the ceiling. He understood and nodded back.

Thus Ororo summoned an upward wind current based on the atmospheric conditions within the warehouse. The wind lifted T’Challa and herself silently and swiftly towards the ceiling. The travelled the sixty feet distance with ease, eventually they held onto nearest roofing frame. Then Ororo ceased the upward wind. T’Challa’s strength and dexterity came into play as he held on with one hand while the other secured Kallus.

Ororo held on with both hands as she stared down. Her body poised and the hair came down the sides of her face. Her eyes glowed softly. In that brief instant, she truly felt like a god staring down at the insignificant humans.

Loki, Ororo said to herself as the memory of the authority he had tempted her with returned.

Below a thin forty year old woman dressed in black entered the area. She was slightly put off by the loose paper that spun in the air due to Ororo’s wind manipulation. Still the woman was a professional and she knew the signs of trouble; hence she drew her side arm.

Now, thought Ororo who was transfixed on the target codename Glimmer for her teleportation powers.

Again, Ororo found it strange that her feelings towards being considered a god were rekindling.

“I overcame this long ago after I had crossed the line that one time,” she said inwardly.

Ororo shook her head and resumed her focus on Glimmer. Then the wind rider aimed her right hand at the woman, and she threw down a lightening bolt at the target. There seemed like no passage of time between the moment the silver phenomenon left her hand and its impact on Glimmer.

The low voltage lightening overwhelmed woman’s nervous system and subsequently her brain. As a result, she collapsed onto the floor. Her breathing was steady, but she was unconscious.

Ororo performed another scan of the building.

“There’s no else here,” she said and turn to T’Challa. “You can let go.”

He released the frame, and she caught him with the manipulated wind. She also dropped onto the wind cushion. Then they descend gracefully like they were in a mid air ballet.

Ororo checked the woman’s vitals and they were in keeping with a person knocked out cold.

She will awaken maybe in the next hour or so, thought Ororo.

T’Challa stood nearby. His eyes on the monitors that replayed Soberk’s capture of Midas. Ororo saw him.

He’s analysing it. Trying to make the connection between Soberk, Midas and the man he’s carrying, Ororo thought.

She watched around the section that resembled a busy office. The noisy fax machines were monotonously sending and receiving multiple documents- to whom and from where? The man would have to explain, Ororo thought.

“So this set up is apart of the organisation Fury spoke of,” commented Ororo.

“But how would they know where to monitor Midas, unless they were involved with his escape?” stated T’Challa. “But why would a spy group want Midas free?”

“Apparently they weren’t expecting Soberk to spoil their plans.”

He looked at her.

“Do you want to stay back and look over the place or me? The last time we left something like this unattended it blew up.”

Standing, Ororo remembered the incident. “I’ll stay and check around. I don’t see any explosive devices in the walls though.”

The couple were close to each other and Ororo sensed the uncanny electricity between them. T’Challa slipped his mask off and then he kissed her. Ororo felt a surge through her body. The kiss ended yet she had the lingering taste of his lips.

“Once I have both of them secured I’ll come back. But I’ll send the secret service as soon as I return to Wakanda,” he said.

Then he lowered his body over the woman. In one swift movement, he held her up with his hand and slipped her onto his free shoulder. Now he carried both Kallus and Glimmer.

Ororo listened as he gave his sword the co-ordinates for Wakanda. Then he teleported from her sight.

All the while Loki had watched the couple and when T’Challa departed he decided it was time to take the artefact at the warehouse.

Chapter

Ororo was pondering her refusal of Loki’s offer. The web he tried to spin her in with his carefully chosen words.

I had no problem becoming the Thunder Goddess if it was for a worthy purpose. But Loki had an evil intent. I couldn’t live with it. And I wasn’t about to let myself be used like that, Ororo thought.

She recollected the feel of the Asgardian armour that she had worn and then there was the hammer. Loki had made it specifically for her to wield and it was a means of channelling her powers, manipulating other energies and opening dimensions.

“It had felt glorious. Wild even,” remarked Ororo. In her imaginations she saw what could have been. An uncontrollable entity, hot white eyes and an uncaring scrawl. The epitome of all that she disliked.

“I wonder whatever became of the hammer?”

But there was another aspect of her encounter with Loki. It was similar to the one she had with Dracula the Vampire King.

My darker side has been tempted on so many occasions, Ororo confessed to herself. Thank goodness I had the will to free myself from those demons.

She picked up the document that had fallen from Kallus. It was a dated report on controlling paranormal practitioners. Leaving the nerve centre, she entered the neat rows of archives and read the tags on the manila folders. They all concerned superhuman and supernatural activities.

“They really took Ramonda to get information on Wakanda,” said Ororo.

Then she heard Soberk’s voice from the monitors. Thus Ororo returned to the nerve centre. All the while she thought about the man’s actions with regard to Midas’s capture.

I have nothing against gloating after apprehending a criminal. But there was something odd about his reaction, pondered Ororo. Or maybe I’m reading too much into it? He’s still new to this level of combating criminals. Maybe he’ll ask T’Challa and me for pointers like he did for running his country.

Her attention went to the fax machines. Beeping incessantly. “Won’t they ever stop?”

She crossed the floor towards the section were the machines were located. There were twenty-five of the mindless devices. They were placed in tidy columns. Each had a tray that collected the received faxes.

Ororo took out several sheets from a tray. Written on the paper was a language she was not familiar with and she knew and spoke several along with the dialects.

“Probably they have a translation program in here,” she said. Watching the computer screens.

Then another thought crossed her mind that of Umba’s mother.

“Should we still pursue her now that we have caught the engineer of the plan?” she asked herself.

She thought about her friend Kurt, the Nightcrawler from the X men and the manner he handled the realisation that his mother was a criminal.

“It’s the same with Umba.”

Her heart filled with joy when she thought about the boy.

Ororo continued in her mind.

We ought to capture her just to find out what she was doing with Apocalypse, Ororo said inwardly.

Eventually she meandered through the office until a door to the outside caught her eye. The electronic lock only opened from the inside; she activated it. The door dragged itself across to her left. There was brilliant sunshine outside along with other grim warehouses. No one else was around

“T’Challa and I should send out a strong message to this organisation so they know never to touch a Wakandan again,” she said.

Then she continued in her mind.

The message needs to be public and direct and not just through Fury. Speaking of Fury I wonder if he has found that stolen Asgardian artefact as yet. If I were he I would get Thor on it right away. Unless Fury was hiding the artefact from Thor.

“Hmmm,” said Ororo, “you can never tell. There aren’t many instruments that are capable of stopping Thor if he ever became mad. Maybe the artefact was such an instrument. “

T’Challa isn’t the only one with a contingency for everything, she said inwardly. I’ll have to check to see what we have for Thor.

“Psst,” someone called out to Ororo from behind her. The voice sounded vaguely familiar to her. She turned around and a bright white light engulfed her. She vanished along with the light. Only her lingering fragrance proved that she was once there.

Chapter

Loki closed the warehouse door, and he hastily headed for Kallus’s safe. He didn’t mind seeing Ororo in person once more, but he still needed to rid himself of her.

“I’ll miss her,” he said with the hyena laugh. The lanky frame moving with gremlin mischief.

He was not sure if T’Challa was heading back soon. Although he was certain that the Black Panther posed no threat to him, the trickster wanted to be discreet. His magical aura made him alien like while manoeuvring through the technologically advance office.

Eventually he found the safe and he ripped it open with the Frost giant strength that he had inherited. And in it was the artefact. Small and oval with Surtur’s engraved image- a two-horned fiery beast with the Twilight sword.

“Perfect.”

He brought his right hand down on the artefact, but a magical forcefield impeded him.

“Ha,” scowled Loki. “There’s no human magic that can deny me.”

He regurgitated a few command words, yet they were unable to remove the spell protection.

“Hog’s breath!” shouted Loki dementedly. His eyes became burning red.

Kallus did this, he thought. So he will undo it.

With that thought, the trickster teleported the artefact and himself to his citadel. From there he would find Kallus and deal with him.

Meanwhile, in Wakanda T’Challa was overseeing the processing of the unconscious prisoners and speaking with the head of the secret service. During the pauses he took time to ponder Soberk’s behaviour.

I think he feels it’s a game, T’Challa thought. When it isn’t. I should have mentioned to him in the meeting the risks of involving himself fighting criminals. For one he is putting his country in danger of reprisals from enemies.

T’Challa stopped. Still I shouldn’t scare him away from what he wants to do.

One of the androids that changed Kallus out his corporate clothes and into red prisoner attire discovered the Persian breastplate that protected the man from magic.

What this used for? T’Challa wondered.

The antiquity reminded him of the troublesome Abner Little of the secret group called the Collectors.

This is something he would quite literally kill for, thought T’Challa and he frowned.

Then he sent the antique to the archives section. Afterwards he continued his introspection.

We’ll have to tell the nation that the bastard has been caught. Or maybe display him. Years ago he would have been decapitated as soon as he awakened. Now he can be placed on trial. Nonetheless the citizens can feel safe again whenever they travel abroad.

Then there’s Nakia Exon? Should we downgrade our search for her? Maybe for Umba’s sake we should carry on with it. At least when we find her the truth between her and Shetani might be revealed.

T’Challa out his kimoyo, and he made two quick calls, one to his mother Ramonda and the other to his sister Shuri. The two women stated that they were on their way to the prison.

Ramonda was over sixty. She had fierce brown eyes and an equally feisty spirit. And the citizenry loved their Queen Mother and she loved them back.

For a brief moment, T’Challa remembered his mother’s face when he had left as a teenager on his sojourn into wider Africa. In a way he knew that her heart was broken to see him leave unprotected and with no means of communication with Wakanda. Yet she had encouraged him to go on the journey.

Shuri was there also, by her mother’s side. She didn’t seem aware of the significance of his departure mainly because she was so young at the time.

Now she is an accomplished young woman, thought T’Challa. Ororo and I can even trust the nation’s security to her in our absences.

He returned his focus to Kallus. He had a wide face and forehead. A clump of thick greying hair was on his head.

Then T’Challa’s mind strayed to Ororo’s reaction on the warehouse ceiling. She seemed troubled like she was fighting something internally, he said inwardly. When we get some quiet time I’ll ask about it.

He inquired on the progress made with Glimmer, and he was informed that she being placed in a cell.

“We’ll have to start an investigation into the reason this organisation freed Midas,” he said to the chief officer. “So we’ll start interrogations immediately when they awaken.”

Thereafter he stared through the window as Kallus  was strapped into a metal chair by the androids.

Chapter

The lights were flickering in the room. Still the androids kept at their duties despite the seeming malfunction in the lighting system. On the other T’Challa sensed that something was amiss. But before a word erupted from his throat, Loki appeared in the room.

T’Challa recognised the goblin who had his back arched and a smirk on his face. He muttered a few inhuman words and the androids were laid to rest in violent explosions. He turned to T’Challa and more strange words tumbled from his mouth.

T’Challa was quicker. He pushed down the officers nearest to him on the floor as the window broke into pieces.

Satisfied that the Black Panther was no longer there, Loki performed the most basics of his tricks- teleportation. And he and Kallus disappeared from the room.

T’Challa rose sharply and he leapt through the broken window into the room.

“What does Loki have to do with this?” he asked. His mind working possible scenarios as he turned to the standing officers.

Then his kimoyo rang. It was Ororo.

“Love,” he answered.

“Honey, I’m in the Atlas Mountains, Morocco. This might seem strange but I think Loki teleported me here from the warehouse.”

“No it isn’t because he just snatched the kidnapper.”

“What. Loki’s involve with him.”

“Seems like it.” T’Challa mind’s was racing. Then he remembered the articles removed from Kallus.

“I have an idea how to find them. We’ll get Soberk to do a location spell. How does that sound?”

“Great. But since were going up against Loki we’ll need the armours. And we don’t have much time to spare,” said Ororo.

“Okay. I’ll come and get you. Then drop you off in the Vault. I’ll get Soberk afterwards.”

“Got it. I’m at –”

Ororo provided T’Challa with the location. He gave a few orders to the officers to see about the room and check on the next prisoner. Then he told the sword Ororo’s location, which was Jbel Toubkal in South Morocco. He disappeared in a golden light.

When he appeared at the site he was greeted by afternoon sunshine and strong winds. A lane of small white clouds ran from the mountain peak he stood on towards the horizon.

The winds were like trestles that held up Ororo from the summit. Her arms were folded as she speculated on the reason Loki had spared her life.

He must also have our meeting in mind, thought Ororo. Then she placed the kimoyo on her belt.

“Another brush with death,” commented T’Challa as he took off his mask.

“Yes another one.” Ororo lowered herself into his opened arms and kissed him deeply.

They teleported that way. The sensation sent a thrill though their bodies. They emerged out of compressed time and space and found themselves in the Vault. It was a hidden storeroom in the Manga mountain range that contained souvenirs and confiscated items from their battles.

Their lips detached. “I love you,” said T’Challa.

“I love you back. Now go find Soberk.”

Eventually they parted from the warmth and comfort of each other’s arms. And T’Challa left like a whisper.

Soon after, Ororo inquired from the Vault’s artificial intelligence the location of the armours.

“3^rd quadrant,” responded the dull computer.

Subsequently Ororo flew over the inhabitants of the Vault. Things created in the pits of evil that were difficulty to destroy and too dangerous to be left in unsafe hands. But not all the items in the Vault were for evil. Some like the armour required safekeeping. She landed in front a showcase.

Resting inside were the two God blessed armours. Specially made for combat with supernatural entities. In the inert state, the armours were four-inch grey bars with the panther crest imprinted on the front.

Ororo opened the case and she pressed her finger on the crest of the first bar. A nano computer read her genetic code. Suddenly the bar lit up. It made a noise as though gearing towards an action. Ororo kept her finger on the bar until it transformed into glittering dust that rolled over her body and eventually merged with her uniform.

Ororo kept her breathing steady as a pre configured armour formed out of the glittering grey dust. It clung onto her curves and bosom. Thin arms from the armour rested on her temples. They transmitted her instructions to the rest of the protection.

Ororo checked that she was still able to reach the vibranium bladed knife on her belt. Afterwards she took the next armour from the showcase.

She went to the locker that contained the spare surveillance equipment. She wanted a miniature tracker and voice transmitter. The circular item was so small that it rested on her fingertip.

I’ll put this on Soberk, thought Ororo. We can’t afford to lose him in a battle with Loki.

Ororo returned to the area she had appeared. There she tried to make her own connections between Loki and the kidnapper based on what she had seen in the warehouse.

“Well, the files showed that they dealt with the paranormal,” said Ororo. “And Loki is deep into magic like Soberk.”

She rested on the staircase for the moment as her pondering continued.

“Maybe T’Challa’s right. We should be cautious with Soberk.”

Therefore Ororo decided it was best to place the transmitter on Soberk without his knowledge.

Chapter

After coming off a call from the White House, Soberk wrote into his Blackberry “Meeting with US President. Tomorrow at 1.25 p.m.”

Then he resumed helping rescue workers search for bodies in the rubble of the International Criminal Court detention centre. Half of which had been destroyed in Midas’s escape.

And even though Soberk knew the carnage was orchestrated for his behalf he shamelessly lifted out bodies from the piles of concrete like a hero.

“You’re going to make it,” he told the victims encouragingly while he healed them with his powers. Yet in his heart he felt no compassion for them. It was all an act to win praises.

Helping him was the fact that the Black Panther and Storm had left the prison grounds and had not returned. Therefore everyone had turned to him for assistance.

Yet Soberk believed the glory he received was his due after a lifetime of punishment by the overpowering personality of his late father. He had been the son of a gruesome dictator that believed his mother was traitorous and thus executed her. And the father took out his anger over the mother on him.

He often remembered the torment in the Great House where he lived with his father and half brothers. There he was reduced to the point where he had little self worth. That was until he left as a young man.

Thus he viewed his permanent disfigurement as a small price for something he never had.

“Soberk,” T’Challa called out from across the tide of yellow and black jacketed rescue workers.

Chapter

T’Challa was quick to the point. Soberk readily agreed.

“This Loki. He’s major threat to the world?” he asked.

“One of the biggest,” replied T’Challa.

“So how are you going to defeat him?”

“With speed, cunning and guile.”

It was T’Challa’s confidence that drew out Soberk’s ego. Thus he said, “Then I want to do more than show you his location. I’ll go with you and fight him.”

T’Challa did not want to block Soberk, despite the danger.

In all regards he was a novice. He may have succeeded against a Midas who was without his power suit, but Loki was a different kind of challenge, thought T’Challa. Nevertheless he said, “I knew you were going to say that.”

Thereafter the two travelled in nano seconds from the Netherlands to Wakanda. They materialised at the entrance to the Vault. Ororo had sealed off the rest of the storeroom with a metal door.

“He’s coming along,” said T’Challa.

Concurrently Ororo stepped close to T’Challa and Soberk as she exchanged the armour for a personal item of Kallus. She gently bounced into Soberk for a wisp of a second, and thereby planted the transmitter on him. He was totally unaware of the contact. Meanwhile Ororo kept the receiver in her right ear.

“Were you informed of the likelihood that we may not return?” asked Ororo.

“Actually no,” replied Soberk.

Ororo stared him directly in the eyes. “We don’t know what Loki has planned. We may even have to sacrifice ourselves to stop him.”

“I’m not afraid,” said Soberk. Even though mentally he was questioning if it was a wise move to go with them. He wanted to be around to revel in the glory.

“Also Loki is a deceiver. Don’t trust anything he says.” Ororo said.

Meanwhile T’Challa removed his right glove and he pressed on the crest. Grey glittering dust draped him as it had done Ororo. His new armour joined with the vibranium weave suit he wore.

“What’s this for?” inquired Soberk.

“It protects us from some of his magic like energy projections and transmutations,” responded Ororo.

“What about me? Where’s my guard?” Soberk sounded troubled.

“You have the ability to transmutate your form we don’t. If he turns you into anything then you can always change back,” said T’Challa assuredly.

“I’ve never done such a thing before,” said a concerned Soberk.

“Then you’ll learn along the way.” Ororo handed him Kallus’s watch.

Soberk took the item. “By the way while you’re gone who looks after Wakanda?”

“We have contingencies for that,” answered T’Challa.

“Hmmp.” Soberk performed the location spell. His eyes became bright grey. A mystic fire covered his clothes but did not burn them. “I’ve found him but he’s veiled to me. I will not be able to place us at his exact location, but just a short distance away.”

“So be it,” said T’Challa.

Soberk concentrated. Suddenly the three were sucked into a vortex. They reformed inside of a subterranean labyrinth. The ceiling was a few feet from their heads. The tunnels seemed unused and devoid of life. A dead man’s silence and stillness lay behind every turn.

“Stay sharp Soberk,” said T’Challa while he withdrew the sword from his back. The techno skin that coated the dark force energy blade slid into the hilt.

Is this Asgard? He wondered.

Meanwhile visible lines of electricity formed out the corners of Ororo’s eyes. She clenched her fists. Then she scanned the vicinity.

“I have no scent,” said T’Challa.

“And I don’t see anything mildly biological,” said Ororo.

On the other hand, Soberk was aware of Loki’s presence. He was magnetised to it.

“I can sense him,” he said and pointed towards the stone wall on his right. “Through there.”

T’Challa slipped his kimoyo from his belt and it showed Kallus’s face on the screen. “This is the person he took.”

Soberk looked at it. At first he didn’t recognise Kallus because the spymaster had worn a disguise in his presence, but the  more he viewed the picture it became apparent T’Challa’s quarry and the mastermind of his ascension were the same person.

“I see,” he said

Ororo pointed her opened palms at the wall. “Stand back,” she said.

Then she emitted searing lightening bolts from her hands. The lightening began drilling into the hard rock.

Chapter

Elsewhere Loki was bemused that Kallus had no fear of him. And he understood the reason.

“We are the same,” said Loki as he stared at the human imprisoned in the metal chair. “I can torture the information out of you in so many ways. But then you have done the same to others. So I’m not going to waste time finding your breaking point. But I’ll make you an offer.”

“Either shut up or free me,” said Kallus drearily. He had awakened disoriented. When he had seen Loki, he remembered the file the organisation had on the trickster.

“Release Surtur’s essence and I will give you all of Wakanda’s secrets or better yet, destroy it,” said Loki. He had realised the spell on the artefact was Asgardian and one he didn’t know of.

Then he gestured with his left hand, and the chair raised off the ground; it floated towards a small pool of dark water. Kallus stared down.

“Observe,” said Loki and whispered a smatter of words. Thereupon the pool waved and then bright coloured images through time and space appeared on the surface. Finally the images settled on Wakanda. A montage showed people oblivious to the viewers of their private lives.

Then Loki released a train of strange words from his lips and in his hand formed an imitation of Mjolnir (Thor’s hammer). The very same one he had presented to Ororo.

“I believe you know what this is and what I can do with it,” teased Loki.

Kallus was emotionless. He knew more about Asgard than most of Earth’s population due to his father and an Army Rangers team that had explored the godlike dimension. “No deal.”

“Why?” asked Loki holding back his rage.

“I don’t know what you’re going to with that thing-”

“I assure you that it has nothing to do with Earth or humans.”

“You expect me to believe that.”

Abruptly Loki became aware of Soberk’s presence. He lowered the chair at the edge of the pool.

“I’ll give you until I return to change your mind,” he said. The hammer disappeared into nothingness. Then he teleported to the intruders.

Kallus smiled insanely. Since he had the perfect opportunity to learn Wakanda’s secrets yet he couldn’t because Loki and all his kind were also considered the enemy.

Chapter

Ororo made steady progress through the stone. T’Challa and Soberk followed behind. Yet Soberk was beginning to think differently about T’Challa and Ororo. He saw in them genuine valour and belief as they continued into the unknown, so they could thwart a powerful adversary.

The world is better off with true heroes, he thought. But I can never be that.

Then Loki appeared at the right of the group and he captured them in separate forcefields.

Immediately T’Challa made a war cry as he slashed out his forcefield and he sprinted towards Ororo; barely evading a magical blast of energy from Loki that streamed behind him.

T’Challa sliced the front of the magical forcefield that imprisoned Ororo and it split in two. Consequently Ororo fired her lightening at the dark God. Loki merely motioned the snaking attack away to his left by flicking the left fingers.

Still Ororo  had a few more tricks. She shot lightning bolts at the ceiling above Loki. As he was repelling the falling rocks, she released lightening into the ground in front of him. The sharp movement beneath his feet felled the trickster. And before he regained composure, T’Challa was pouncing at him with the sword aiming for the trickster’s head.

Like a reflex, Loki muttered a phrase that should have been the end of T’Challa. Instead the amour protected him, and he was tossed away from Loki.

Meanwhile Soberk tried in vain to free himself. His mystic fires blazed inside the forcefield concealing him.

Loki spotted Soberk.

“He’s the one leading them to me,” said Loki. Consequently both of them disappeared from the eyes of T’Challa and Ororo.

Loki brought Soberk into a sealed off tunnel. Then he removed the forcefield. Soberk stared intently at the trickster.

Put up a shield in case he attacks, Soberk thought. Meanwhile the mystic fires on his lower arms extended like twelve-inch blades. Have no fear of him, was the mantra that played in his mind. Therefore he willed his nerves to be calm.

On the other side, Loki calculated Soberk’s countermeasures and thereby he devised a series of attacks.

But let’s not be too hasty, thought Loki.

“Soberk,” the trickster said. “I know your secrets. Like the plan that you and Kallus had hatched to bring down Wakanda. The staged escape of the prisoner so that you brought him in. But I particularly enjoyed, as one viper to another, was you pretending to befriend Storm and the Black Panther when you’re their enemy. And those secrets will remain with me as long as you stall Storm and Black Panther from finding my lair.”

Soberk remained quiet. His focus was on Loki’s expected attack.

“What do you say?” asked Loki.

“No.”

The trickster became enraged. He whispered a hex. Soberk’s shield barely stopped it and was shattered. Still Soberk moved forward quickly. He swung the fire blades at Loki and made contact on the shoulders. Loki laughed like a hyena as the blades broke against his body. Then the trickster spewed another spell from lips and it started tearing out the magic from Soberk.

Chapter

Ororo’s lightening and plasma energy clawed a path through the stone tunnels.

“Loki does not know a transmitter is on Soberk,” she said to T’Challa.

“Still do we trust the words of a known liar,” he said while watching the tracker from Soberk’s beacon on his kimoyo.

“Then we’ll have to trap Soberk into a confession,” said Ororo soberly.

“We’re almost there.”

At least we were correct not to fully trust Soberk, thought T’Challa.

Ororo pushed her powers further; mentally she was nearing her threshold where she was in control of herself.

I’m a mutant and not a goddess, she reiterated to herself; remembering the phrase Xavier had used when he had found her as a teenager.

Eventually the final wall succumbed to her will and it collapsed. Instantly she saw Loki draining the magic out of Soberk.

The trickster threw aside Soberk.

“I have spared you twice Storm. I shall not again,” he said and evaporated out of sight.

T’Challa dashed to Soberk and knelt on one knee besides him.

“He’s alive but weakened,” said T’Challa. There was no response from Ororo. Hence he looked up at her.

Her eyes were closed and her arms extended as though in a trance.

“I know where to find Loki,” she said, “he’s using the hammer.”

Chapter

The trickster changed the image in the pool from Wakanda to Aranzi. Then Loki activated the hammer over the country that Soberk ruled. Great thunderstorms began taxing the land as punishment for Soberk’s actions.

Then the trickster raised Kallus from the ground. “Listen carefully human. I’m going to make you relive the pain of all that suffered from your hands.” The Asgardian’s voice was deep and vexed.

“Being in your company is a pain by itself,” retorted Kallus.

Loki dropped Kallus roughly. The chair he was strapped to made a clang noise.

“Why you-”

A rumbling came behind the wall on the far right. Moments later it was ruptured and Ororo flew through the opening. Loki barely glimpsed T’Challa to the back. Then the Black Panther was gone like a ghost in the forest.

Subsequently Loki lurched backwards as he felt a sudden presence. It was T’Challa who had teleported for the surprise strike. Loki was fast as the Black Panther and he dodged the initial attack. Nevertheless T’Challa adjusted quickly and he trimmed off Loki’s right hand from the arm. Importantly it was the hand that held the hammer. With a phrase, Loki shot T’Challa away from him.

Unbeknownst to the trickster, Ororo clutched the fallen hammer. She directed her powers through it all the while dispelling the dark impulses it created in her. Then Ororo swung the hammer at Loki who was focused on T’Challa.

The trickster turned around from the Black Panther and into the full swing of the hammer. It smashed into the left side of  his face. Toppling him. Ororo bore down on the now disfigured deceiver with the hammer. In fear, he repelled her with his hands and the hammer faded into the air; flinging her a few metres from where he lay. Then he tried to stand. That’s when he lost his head.

Diving T’Challa decapitated the God with a timed slash. The head fell, bounced on the horns and came to rest within striking distance of Ororo. She pulled her knife from the belt and stabbed it into Loki’s broken face. He yelled in agony. She lifted the head and tossed it into the pool; hoping that it drowned him. Instead he was sucked into time and space. Disappearing in an upheaval of the waters.

Chapter

T’Challa promptly secured Kallus in the chair.

“What’s your connection to Loki?” he asked but as expected Kallus remained muted.

“T’Challa, look,” said Ororo as she neared a pedestal that had the Surtur artefact resting on it. “It’s the weapon stolen from Fury.” She took up the small and oval vessel.

T’Challa stared down at Kallus.

“We’ll eventually find out what happened here,” he said. Then T’Challa dragged the chair behind him as he walked along the stone floor. He was heading for Soberk who was dragging himself out the wall opening.

T’Challa was aware that Soberk was unable to heal himself.

“We’re going back to Wakanda. You’ll get treatment there,” said T’Challa dryly.

Ororo flew over with the artefact. Subsequently the group left Loki’s lair.

Five hours later, T’Challa and Ororo met with Nicholas Fury the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.  in a designated secret place. He was a man who benefited from slow ageing; hence he resembled a person in his forties. His hair was a mixture of grey and black. The body was that of a commando. And no one dared made a joke of his eye patch for an injury sustained in World War II.

He was presented the artefact. T’Challa and Ororo explained how they recovered it.

“But what does it do actually?” inquired Ororo.

Usually Fury would have said none of your business, but since she helped him out a tight spot he obliged.

“At full power. It can bring forth Surtur the destroyer of Asgard and he’s one of less than a handful of entities who can defeat Thor.” In those words he admitted the reason the weapon was kept secret. “At lower levels, it can increase magic.”

And it disappeared the same time Soberk’s powers increased, thought T’Challa.

“But out of curiosity was the woman you captured with the kidnapper thin-” Fury described the person from the surveillance footage.

“Yes,” replied Ororo.

“We also found that she had teleportation DNA,” said T’Challa. “Why do you ask?”

“Because she stole the weapon,” replied Fury.

“Now we have a common enemy with regards to this organisation,” said Ororo.

“We do,” said Fury.

Afterwards they departed from the meeting place.

Chapter

T’Challa and Ororo poured over the evidence that they had on Soberk and it was thin. Since most of it was based on Loki’s words.

“We’ll have to let him go for now,” said Ororo, sitting at the desk.

“But going back to your earlier I idea. We can ensnare him. Say we go along helping him set up his country and then we-”

Ororo listened attentively to T’Challa’s scheme and she liked it.

A day after Soberk returned to Aranzi, but he had lost his magical healing abilities. And he was concerned that Kallus might eventually reveal the secrets to T’Challa and Ororo.

I’ll have to reach him somehow before that happens, he thought.

Chapter

Meanwhile in The Hague, Netherlands, the ICC Chairman met with the Premier of Dasdian. They discussed the transfer of Malice  from the ICC detention centre to one of Dasdian’s maximum-security prisons until repairs were finished.

The Chairman was glad that the Premier had volunteered his country for the transfer. He had known of the Premier because of the international disarmament pressure group that the man had founded.

And as the two spoke cordially in the office, the Premier was silently pleased with himself.

Finally I’ve got her, he said inwardly. She’s going to make all the difference in turning this world into a safer place to live.

Next Story: Blade the Vampire King

Black Panther and Storm in Soberk’s Ascension Pt I

Previously in The Black Panther and Storm:

For over ten thousand years warrior kings called Black Panthers ruled and protected the isolated and unconquerable African nation Wakanda. In their isolation Wakanda became the most scientifically advanced nation on Earth. T’Challa was the latest Black Panther, and he believed that his great nation was obligated to use its resources to help the less fortunate; defenseless peoples of the world against tyranny, corruption, and megalomaniac super humans.

Black Panther later married Ororo ‘Storm’ Munroe the non-Wakandan mutant heroine.

Story: Soberk’s Ascension Pt I

The wind swept across the quiet evening savannah plain and up toward the low hanging Ongon tree; shaking out the loose yellow petals from the hundred years old branches.

The teenage sweethearts, Umba and Enzi sat at the base of the tree. It was their spot and they met there once every month. As they enjoyed the shade, Umba usually told Enzi about the sights and sounds of life outside Wakanda. He spoke of the lights of Lagos, the traffic in Johannesburg and the stewed fish made by the people on bank of the Kaskang River. He told her about the bright coloured Cameroon mini vans used in public transportation that had pet names like “Kriss Kross” written above the windscreens. That he had liked the music from an Ethiopian rapper, and his father had records from a Ghanaian jazz singer.

And Enzi would listen quietly; her imagination vividly brought to life the world that Umba described. She regarded him as a portal to an environment she had seen only on television. It reinforced her aspirations to travel outside of Wakanda. But that required special permission.

Therefore the sixteen-year-old girl bided her time. Meanwhile she lied on her stomach, her elbows stuck in the ground, her face cradled by her hands, the braids tucked to one side of her head, and her legs crossed as she stared at Umba. Sometimes she asked a question that led him to a different and fascinating story. “You’re like a house full of stories,” she told him once, “there is a new one behind every door.”

It never eluded her that Umba was so experienced in the world and he was still only fifteen years old. He was stocky and with a low hair cut. He usually leaned against the old tree, a wide grin on his face. He gesticulated as he got deeper into the stories. He was seemingly happy to tell his adventures especially to her.

Enzi also knew he never lied about the tales. She was instinctively aware that he told her the truth and the absence of embellishment added to the mystique she created in her mind of the outside world.

Yet this day was different. Umba was not happy. Enzi had expected it, because up until then an  issue had weighed on his mind, which he hadn’t spoken fully about.

He had found out that his mother was alive and that she was a criminal like his father.

He appeared hurt and angry. Enzi was holding his hand reassuringly. He related the mission that he went on with T’Challa, Ororo and Shuri where he discovered the truth.

“Do you know what she looks like?” inquired Enzi. Her focus on the computerised visor that aided Umba as he was blind. If he took it off and stared at her with the naked eyes then the invisible energy blast from them would end her life.

“Shuri said that she was about late forties. The visor told me that she was six feet tall, slim and her hair was in a pony tail.”

“Does she know that you’re her son?”

“Yes. That’s what is really eating me up. But she didn’t tell me anything. She just drove off,” replied Umba. “And it was not so long ago I had asked myself if I had to choose between my new life and her, who would I go with?”

Enzi sympathised with him since he was told his mother was dead; now that he knew the truth and he wanted answers, she abandoned him.

A tear trickled down from his right eye. It surprised Enzi in two ways. First he had never cried in front of her. Secondly she didn’t know that he still had the ability to cry, because the curse on his eyes was supposed to have altered them forever.

Umba swiftly wiped the tear away as quickly as it had appeared. He had felt awkward crying in front of Enzi, but then the reality hit him that he could still cry. He rubbed the salty wetness on his fingers.

“Hey,” he said in wonder and a little  cheerier.

Enzi liked the mood change so she encouraged it further.

“You should tell T’Challa and Ororo.”

“They’ll be back later this evening.”

“Where did they go? I saw that they were visiting the mine workers early on today.”

“They went to Aranzi to finally see Soberk.”

“That’s the guy that saved the outside world from the virus right?”

“Yes.”

“But why did you say finally?” She removed a petal from her shoe.

“He asked for their help three weeks ago, but has been putting off a meeting ever since because of his world tour. Last night he called again and he wanted a meeting in person.”

“Oh.” Enzi looked at the petal with half interest and then she flicked it away. “Isn’t it strange that he would need help? For what?”

“They’ re going there to find out.”

Suddenly a thought entered Enzi’s mind that related to Umba’s discovery of the teardrop. She remembered the woman that had cursed Umba-Malice.

Why would I be thinking about her? Enzi asked herself.

Chapter

Aranzi, Africa

Under the late dictator, Aranzi was a notorious hub for criminals. Money launders and tax evaders from the West. Human traffickers from the east operated from the capital city. Illicit drugs passed through the south daily. And the dictator took a percentage from all of them.

Dr Alex Soberk changed that immediately when he ousted his father and then became ruler of Aranzi. Accordingly he was hailed as a hero by the international media.

Then he cemented his place in the hearts of the citizens when he healed every infirm person in the general hospital. He did that first; afterwards he went on the world tour where he mass healed millions of people from the virus epidemic. And he had no intention of stopping there.

Mynee, outskirts of Aranzi’s captial

The mannerly maid brought in the magazines and she rested them on the small table in the waiting room. She placed her hands on the sides of her maple uniform. Then she turned to the guests seated on the sofa.

She looked at the mid thirties man in front of her. He was handsome, large and strong. His fitness showed a man accustomed with arduous labour. But there was an aspect of him that unnerved her. His casual appearance was fictitious. He was primed. Ready to either attack with ferocity or act coolly at any sign of trouble. His sword leaned against the sofa.

“Would you like anything to drink?” she asked T’Challa.

“No thank you,” he responded kindly.

“And you Mrs—?” she inquired from Ororo.

“I’m fine, but thanks for asking.”

The old lady made no other facial expression other than politeness. Then she exited the room in practised short neat steps.

T’Challa grinned because of the cover artwork on the first magazine, which was a Newsweek. The illustration portrayed the major pharmaceutical companies as giants cowering in the presence of Soberk who was standing heroically with his arms folded.

I hope he continues with his rise in prominence. Maybe they’ll nickname him Panacea, thought T’Challa and he continued with the reflection. Still no one knows who or what caused the virus. Even Wakanda’s virologists are unable to decipher the bio chemical make up. So Soberk’s intervention was timely when everyone else was failing. The majority of the world’s population may have been buried today if it was not for him. The World Health Organisation may need to change their procedures when dealing with an epidemic like this. They were greatly inadequate. I’ll have to send my recommendations.

Then his thoughts went to Ororo and their relationship. He remembered the night before that they had danced Western style in the sky under the bright eye of the moon. She had enjoyed that, he thought.

Her passion for life is one of the things I love about her, he said inwardly.

On the other hand, the incident with the maid highlighted a quality Ororo liked about T’Challa. That he could fend for himself despite his royal upbringing. The time he had spent outside of Wakanda as a teenager had taught him rugged life.

She reflected on it.

So I can carry him to a dingy bar in outback Australia and he would not be put off by it, she said to herself.

She was an attractive thirty years old woman, almost six feet tall, toned, slender and shapely. An accomplished street fighter, she could defeat eight thugs with her bare hands.

Ororo also noticed the magazine cover. Her blue eyes traced over the image of Soberk. He was six-foot, mid thirties and fairly muscled. His skin was not human rather it was hard and brown. The eyes were dark grey. The scalp was bald.

Ororo folded her arms and slanted her head as she watched the picture. Then she remembered the video phone conversation Soberk had with T’Challa and her. There was something about him that was oddly familiar. She had wondered about it on the flight to Aranzi. As she sat there the answer finally resonated with her.

“He reminds me of Midas,” she said.

“How so?” T’Challa raised his eyebrow.

“They have the same superficial demeanour.”

T’Challa checked the time on his kimoyo. “He’s also late to the meeting that he scheduled.”

“We can cut him some slack. He’s healing the world. All rather conveniently though.”

“Are we going to bring it up in the meeting?”

“We should just to get his reaction.”

“He might think that we’re jealous accusing him of showing up right as the virus seemed unstoppable and then taking the glory.”

“That is not jealously, its suspicion and we have every right to be.”

“It comes with the job.”

“It comes with the job.” Ororo smiled and she looked at the magazine cover again. “This is serious. He could cripple that entire industry if he continues like this.”

“At what cost to him personally, beside the physical changes,” said T’Challa as he recalled that a month prior Soberk was an ordinary human looking man with low-level magical abilities.

“We can only guess.”

“If we learn his secret then you could get a boost in your magic also,” he said playfully.

“Then there wouldn’t be a challenge in nurturing and mastering it would there,” she said. “I rather visit my aunt and learn it from her.”

“But Soberk’s magic angle does throw a spotlight on Dr Strange and Brother Voodoo.”

“I can imagine how they are hounded as to why they couldn’t do the same thing with their knowledge of magic. They were the experts before all of this happened.”

“Essentially magic is energy manipulation. Maybe Soberk has tapped into a new source.”

Ororo checked the time on her kimoyo. It was nearing two hours.

“Do you think Umba will ever open up about his mother?” she asked. “It’s been three weeks now.”

“I’ll say yes once he gets over the shock and anger.”

“I haven’t made up my mind if we should lock her up or let her go after we’ve got the information from her.”

“We can hand her over to the ICC. She was working with Apocalypse, that’s a crime against humanity right there.”

“Then it will be both her and Malice in the same prison. The two other influential women in his life behind bars.”

“Who other woman is influential in his life other than you?”

“Shuri.” Ororo grinned.

“Shuri!”

“Haven’t you noticed, the two of them talk to each other now. Before they acted like complete strangers.”

“No. I didn’t notice.”

“I saw it when Ramonda visited the Bayern brothers in their cells.” Ororo saw in her mind’s eye the image of Ramonda dressed in burgundy royal robes and armed with a double edge ceremonial sword as she entered the cells and gazed over the bounded and petrified Bayerns who had bruised her in the kidnapping. The same manner they hadn’t pitied the man whose eyes she had gouged out during the kidnapping was the same way she didn’t pity them and they had sensed it.

“Well that’s good to know,” said T’Challa. “But speaking of mother. I can’t wait until she looks into the terrified eyes of the master mind behind her kidnapping.”

“All in due time, we need to be patient. He’ll eventually slip up.”

T’Challa glanced at the time. The moment he looked up from the kimoyo and stared at the closed office door a noise like sparking live wires came from behind it. Soberk had arrived.

Chapter

The enigmatic host opened the office doors. He wore traditional African attire. “Good day. I’m sorry to be late I was in Angola.”

“Not a problem,” said Ororo.

After the requisite handshakes, T’Challa and Ororo entered the opulent office.

“Please excuse the grandeur, this was my brother’s house. I’m staying here until the Great House is rebuilt,” said Soberk as he sat behind the technologically savvy office desk. “I’m still getting use to the echo.”

T’Challa agreed since the office took up six rooms.

“Kindly have a seat,” said Soberk with an extended hand.

Ororo was right he does seem superficial, thought T’Challa.

“Okay. The reason I asked for your help is simple. I need advice on certain matters that only you two are knowledgeable on such as the duality of managing a country effectively and being a super hero at the same time.”

“Well. We are willing to share,” said T’Challa.

“Thank you. That was the kind of response I was hoping for.”

“But what are your plans for Aranzi?” inquired Ororo.

“Basically I’m going to follow in your footsteps and use my country’s resources to aid the rest of the world. I specifically want to start a micro finance scheme for the continent. My father had collected a lot of revenue from the oil firms, mineral extractors and plutonium mining companies that operate in the country, which he kept for himself. I intend to use those funds to launch the project.”

“That’s admirable,” commented Ororo.

“Thanks. Also I’m aware of the political inconveniences that were placed on your country with the international isolation policy and what not, so I’m willing to assist in the areas that your are held up in.”

“We’ll work something out,” said T’Challa. “But what are you going to do internally?”

“Basic infrastructure repairs and building. Proper redistribution of wealth that sought of thing.”

“Do you have ministers or appointees to carry out the projects?” asked Ororo.

“Not as yet. When I start the screening process I may need your advice on what I should be looking for in personnel seeing that I’ll be away from the country most of the time,” replied Soberk. “Also with my father gone the country’s true financial worth will be now known. I estimate we will be one of the riches countries in the world and second only to yours on the continent. With that kind of money floating around I want to hire the right people to handle the country’s affairs.”

“If you don’t mind me asking but how did you become so powerful so quickly?” asked Ororo.

Soberk calmly looked at her. “I was born with the magic and now it has fully manifested itself.”

His gold watch alarmed. He checked it. “I’m sorry. I will have to conclude this meeting. I have another appointment.”

“Perfectly all right,” said T’Challa.

“I can let the maid bring refreshments before you leave.”

“Its fine,” said Ororo.

All three of them rose from their seats.

“Did you land your plane on the helipad by the north side or the west side?” inquired Soberk.

“The north side,” replied T’Challa.

“Then I’ll drop you there. It’s the least I can do.”

Soberk used his teleportation magic before the couple responded. They disappeared in a ball of mystic fire and then reappeared on the helipad in front of the Panther jet.

He shook his guests’ hands briskly. “I’ll call as soon as I start the process.” Then the miracle man disappeared engulfed in mystic flames.

The couple was speechless at first but gradually spoke while they entered the jet.

“I thought it was nice, he wanting advice on how to balance his new life,” said Ororo.

“And odd too.”

Ororo set the course to Wakanda as the couple relaxed in their seats.

“Having another super rich country will benefit the continent, so I see no reason in not helping him start off,” said T’Challa.

“He was correct about the restrictions. We could probably pass the plans we had for world projects over to him.”

“Still,” said T’Challa, ” he does come across as being superficial.”

“You don’t trust him.”

“I just want to be cautious and not the make the same mistake as we did with Midas,” said T’Challa as he remembered the incarcerated king.

“Changing the subject. I don’t understand why Fury doesn’t just tell Thor about the missing weapon since it is from the Asgard dimension.”

“He must have his reasons,” suggested T’Challa. “But out of speculation, if the Asgard pantheon wanted a thunder goddess for like a day would you do it?”

Ororo planted her elbow on the armrest and she propped up her chin with a clenched fist.

“Hmmm. I almost did it once so I may try it again.” She smiled mischievously. Her eyes slid down to the control panel and she concentrated on the estimated time to Wakanda. There was plenty. At that point, she noticed T’Challa also stared at the time.

Subsequently T’Challa and Ororo looked up at each other. A moment later, they were stripping the clothes off each other and kissing vigorously. With nothing severely pending, they could make long guiltless love. T’Challa carried his lover into the section that contained the bed. There he caressed her firm peaks lovingly. His experienced hands worked across her body and they caused his wife to lose her self-control. They became one. She held on tightly to him. His rhythmic physical power was driving her to another sweet and thrilling finish.

Chapter

Ororo had dressed and headed for the flight controls as the jet landed in Wakanda. Alas, T’Challa thought about Aranzi as a new dominant power in the world.

He began pondering on the issue.

He’ll have to watch for predators like I did. International politics is tricky to say the least. I can show him how. Also he will need to keep an eye on his home front. Something that I let slip on my end when I first started out.

Most likely I could use the wisdom I gained from those errors to advise him.

On the other side of the jet, Ororo also thought about Wakanda’s role in Aranzi’s future.

Soberk’s request proved that he was not too proud to say that he didn’t know it all, she reflected and continued. That is a rare thing. We can also give insight in prioritising his time accordingly between his country and helping others.

It’s a delicate balance. Then when you have a personal life like T’Challa and I it can become a quandary if not handled properly.

I’ll admit that T’Challa and I have worked out an understanding that suits us perfectly. The arrangement with my X men team mates is also working.

T’Challa and I may be the right people for Soberk to talk with. There aren’t many super powered world leaders on humanity’s side out there.

It is fortunate that Soberk seems to be on the right side.

Later at their home, the couple met an excited Umba. It was a welcomed changed from the angry teenager that had lived in the house for the pass three weeks.

The incident reinforced Ororo’s earlier examination that she managed her time, a country and a family.

Umba explained the reason for his mood to his guardians. They were equally surprised by the news.

“The specialist will check it out in the morning,” said T’Challa.

Consequently the three went out to an eatery in Central City for dinner. It was Ororo’s idea in order to keep Umba’s spirits up.

It made T’Challa reflect upon Ororo’s and his understanding of children. Both of them had taught at two different kinds of schools. Ororo had prepared mutant kids for life in a harsh world at the Xavier Institute, and he had educated Harlem public school children, as a foreign teacher stint-it was a means of understanding and helping the outside world.

So we are using both experiences to raise Umba, he said inwardly. And sad to say that if Malice hadn’t blinded the boy we may have never met him, thought T’Challa.

Chapter

There were two sides of Aranzi. One side was the modern urbanised centres with Western tastes. The other side was the  mystic sensibilities rooted in the countryside. It was the mystic aspect that Soberk’s father had feared; hence he destroyed it along with Soberk’s mother.

Soberk walked to his mother’s grave- the high priestess. The sun had since sunk in the distance; it had sent orange streaks across the sky in a last hooray. Darkness pervaded the graveyard. An army of crickets made their noises throughout the thousand of unkempt graves sites.

He arrived over his mother’s resting-place. “Mother I have returned.” Then he dropped a flower on the grave. “I miss you. I will make sure that Aranzi never forgets you. A national day shall be given in your honour. And tonight your legacy shall carry on through me.”

He turned and faced the enormous graveyard. The graveyard for Aranzi’s mystics murdered by his father’s orders on suspicion of treachery. However his father was unaware that the mystics were buried each with an icon- an object that held their powers. But Soberk knew.

He lifted his hands skyward and he concentrated. His grey eyes glowed.

“Give me your power!” he shouted.

The earth moved as the graves were disturbed. Then energy burst out the tombs in the form of wiggling lines of translucent blue light. Yet Soberk only saw them. In a rush, the energies bombarded him. The ordeal lasted for ten minutes.

Soberk felt remarkably different when it was over. His senses were so heightened that he experienced the world on several planes of existence.

Now he could break free from Kallus’s control.

“The fool thought he was using me when it was the other way around,” said Soberk.

He had required the power boost from Kallus in order for the amalgamation to work.

Suddenly he heard a woman’s voice in his head and she gave a location. It was the telepathic woman that Kallus contacted him with.

“Speak of the devil,” said Soberk and he teleported to the location.

He reappeared in a vortex of fire. Then the flames disappeared. He was in a white walled catacomb that acted as an office.

“I told you not to meet with them,” said the sixty year old Kallus who passed for fifty. The body showed the remnants of man who was physically fit in his younger days.

He stood near a table; arms folded. The disguised spymaster was dressed like a corporate branch manager, but without a tie. His British accent was faked yet so well practised that it was difficult to tell.

A stoic Soberk crossed his arm and pushed out his chest. He was waiting for the right moment.

“Your stubborn, but we’ll work on that,” said Kallus as he picked up a stopwatch from off the table. Nearby on the table was the Asgardian artefact that had boosted Soberk’s powers. The stopwatch reached zero and then Kallus looked at Soberk expecting the man to collapse in pain and in desperate need of  another power boost. But the moment never came.

Soberk sensed that the time was right. “I no longer require the artefact’s power; I have my own.”

Kallus’s expression gave nothing away. He was calm and he rested the stopwatch on the table.

“I want to re negotiate our agreement,” said Soberk. He knew the momentum was in his favour so he carried on without a response from Kallus. “I will continue to draw countries away from Wakanda as you intended.” He stared eye to eye with the spymaster.

Kallus’s eyes gave away no surprise that Soberk knew about the master plan.

“But you will not have influence over my country,” said Soberk.

“Well your ungrateful. After I put you in power.” He pulled a hologram projector from the next end of the table and he turned it on. “This is your new assignment.”

A facial image of Midas appeared from the projector. He was twenty-nine years old. The eyes were deep in the head and green.

“This is-”

“I know him already. That’s the man who killed those millions of people in his land grabbing scheme,” said Soberk. “What’s my part?”

“In eight hours he is going to break out of prison. He’ll be on the run for two hours. Then you’ll go to the prison, perform a location spell on him, catch and return him.”

“Sounds simple.”

“You’ll be returning him dead along with the people who helped his escape,” countered Kallus.

“What of the wife?”

“She was just the enforcer. She doesn’t hold the public interest as he does.”

“And your orchestrating the escape?” asked Soberk, but he knew the answer beforehand. The depravity of the man, he thought.

Kallus’s body language affirmed the suspicion.

“What’s the point of this?”

“We can’t let the world only view you as a healer. You have to be perceived as a man of action so when we implement the hotline more countries will turn to you instead of Wakanda when they face a problem that requires force.”

Soberk agreed wholeheartedly that his image needed to be tweaked.

“I’ll do it. Call me when its time.” He summoned the teleportation flames and they swirled around him. “And also, tell the telepath that she has a pleasant voice.”

Then he vanished.

Chapter

Kallus’s hand dived into the trouser pocket and he pulled up a pack of cigarettes. He inserted one into his mouth and lit it. He exhaled the smoke and massaged his right temple.

The operation had gone sideways. Somehow Soberk had emancipated himself from his control. He peered at the Asgardian artefact that he had stolen from Fury.

“All that effort wasted,” he muttered. “Maybe it can be used in another capacity.”

He knew Soberk was rebellious. It was the reason the young man had fallen out with his father and why he met with T’Challa and Ororo.

“At least he is still a glory hound,” said Kallus.

He opened the dossier on Soberk to find out where he could have received the new power. Then he closed the document because it was futile. He knew the information back and front.

Dr Alex Soberk-second son-never married-multiple girlfriends-exiled from Aranzi-became a medical doctor etc.

Other than the new scenario, Kallus hated the Midas op idea. The strategists in their wisdom thought that Soberk should take on a criminal that the entire world hated.

Kallus saw it differently. T’Challa and Ororo had captured Midas; thus when he escaped they would also be on the trail. He found it was too early for Soberk to be openly competing with the couple. But the strategists had objected. They thought it was brilliant that Soberk would upstage the Black Panther and Storm in the public eye.

Kallus took another taste of the cigarette. He had to find a means of bringing Soberk back under his control before anyone found out.

He loosened his collar. The reason he dressed like a branch manager was to cover the bullet-proof jacket that he wore as well as the Persian gold breast plate that protected him from magic. Also he had placed a chemical on his skin that masked his scent; therefore T’Challa would not sense that Soberk was in his presence.

Chapter

King Midas was imprisoned at the International Criminal Court’s detention centre in The Hague, Netherlands. The extraction team that went for him consisted of five men and one woman. None of them knew their employer. They were provided with equipment and logistics for the prison break.

The woman disguised herself as a new lawyer from the law firm that represented Midas and his wife Malice. But she wished to speak with Midas. She was properly checked by security before entering the briefing room, which was on the seventh floor of the main section.

Midas was waiting patiently in his green prison clothes. He was curious about the visit.

The professionally dressed woman (in a soft green suit) strode into the room and she rested her briefcase on the desk.

“What’s this about?” asked Midas. He was pleased with himself because he still thought about Malice despite an attractive six foot one woman standing in front him. Her hair was fashionably cut short.

“I’m here to get you out,” said the woman with an Argentine accent.

Midas grinned because he was serving multiple life sentences.

The woman slipped a pen from her purse and she squirted a substance from it onto the briefcase. Then the woman roughly pushed Midas onto the floor. The operative lifted the briefcase. She dropped the desk onto the side to shield him from the intended explosion.

Meanwhile the substance had a chemical reaction with the briefcase. It fizzed. She expertly flung the briefcase at the door. Instantly she ducked behind the desk with Midas. Ka-boom!

Midas felt the heat even though he was protected from the full blast. The woman took control of his arm and she led him out the room.

He understood it was a break out. But who ordered it? Midas thought.

He was aware that some individuals would go through any lengths to execute him personally. Still he had no fear; thus he went along with the woman. However he remembered Malice.

“We have to get my wife!” he shouted. “I’m not leaving without her!”

“Someone else is getting her,” lied the woman. She had followed the instructions. She confiscated the side arm from one of the fallen guards outside of the door. “Follow me and you’ll meet her on the outside.”

Midas didn’t want to believe her. Suddenly Ka Boom! Ka Boom! The building shook. She placed sunglasses over eyes and then activated a beacon in her purse. The explosions continued.

“Why aren’t we getting out of this area?” asked Midas since seconds had passed and they were still outside the briefing room.

“The transport is coming to us,” replied the woman. “Shut your eyes until I tell you otherwise.”

Midas obeyed and he wondered who her employers were. Meanwhile the power went. Then a laser beam dissected the building. Moments later the front of the prison detached from the main section and it collapsed completely on itself. Leaving the cross section bare. The woman and Midas were exposed to the night air.

An armour plated aircraft hovered into place in front of the woman and Midas. The four feet long laser canon was extended from the underside. A door was lowered.

“Open your eyes,” said the woman.

He followed the instructions. Subsequently he and the woman boarded the aircraft. He looked frantically about for Malice until he was subdued and injected with a sleeping agent.

Chapter

T’Challa and Ororo arrived two hours after the prison break. They were equally surprised at the level of sophistication in the escape. Rescue crews were still digging out prisoners and personnel from the rubble. The media were kept at a distance from the prison. But word had already reached out that Midas had escaped.

The couple located the warden and the ICC chairman in a tape off area on the prison grounds.

“Good to see you two,” said the ICC chairman cordially.

“We understand that Malice is still in custody. Can we speak with her?” asked T’Challa.

The white haired chairman turned to the bewildered warden. “Sure,” said the man. “Anything to capture the bastard.”

Five minutes later, the couple was heading up the steps towards Malice’s cell. They discussed the issue of Midas abandonment of his wife.

“It seems out of character,” said T’Challa.

“Still we’re assuming he’s behind it. Remember he made a lot of powerful enemies from his scheme,” said Ororo.

“Then there is the family back in the kingdom. He might still have control over some of them.”

Eventually they arrived at Malice’s cell door. Ten guards were posted outside.

“Does she know?” asked Ororo to the senior guard.

“No,” responded the guard. Then he opened the cell for the couple.

Malice had been a difficult prisoner. She spat, bit and clawed at the guards. Then she became a danger to herself after what was deemed an attempted suicide. Therefore T’Challa and Ororo found her muzzled and restrained so tightly that she was immobile.

She still had the exotic good looks and long curly black hair. A daily shot of nanites nullified her mutant ability to manipulate the molecules of organisms.

She stared at T’Challa and Ororo with disgust. For the majority of her life she was practically a prisoner and when she finally found freedom and happiness T’Challa and Ororo had taken it away from her.

Technically Malice also blamed herself for the downfall because she believed it was better that she had killed Umba the moment she saw him.

T’Challa removed the muzzle.

“Midas escaped and he left you behind,” said Ororo in a controlled manner.

“Lies!” said Malice.

“Do you know where he could have gone to?” asked T’Challa.

Her hateful eyes shot at him. Instinctively he reattached the muzzle as he had sensed Malice’s nasty intention.

Chapter

Soberk appeared on the prison grounds shortly after T’Challa and Ororo had gone up to Malice’s cell. He noted the presence of the world media. Afterwards he negotiated with the ICC chairman and warden using his hero stature to great effect. Eventually he was allowed into Midas’s cell.

He used a worn shirt in the location spell. Then he vanished in a wave of mystic fire.

Four minutes later, a great ball of fire appeared in the area where the international media had set up their equipment. People scrambled for safety from the mystic fires.

The fires dissipated and lying in the spot was the aircraft. The crew was dead and Soberk was outside effortlessly holding Midas’s lifeless body up by the throat with one hand.

“I got him,” he said triumphantly.

Immediately Soberk was lit up by a hundred camera flashes.

Meanwhile the muzzle stifled Malice’s scream. She had sensed her husband’s demise. The heartache forced tears out her eyes.

Chapter

T’Challa and Ororo had no remorse for Malice. A guard brought the news that Soberk captured Midas.

“He’s here,” said T’Challa since he found it strange.

“He must have seen it on the news,” said Ororo.

“Possibly.”

They left the cell and went to the ICC chairman and the warden. Soon the group viewed on a monitor the media frenzy that converged on Soberk.

“Why did he take them out there?” asked the warden.

“For the show,” speculated the ICC chairman.

T’Challa and Ororo remained quiet for the moment. They didn’t want to discuss Soberk’s actions as yet.

Eventually Soberk teleported the bodies and the airship onto the prison ground. Then he showed by the warden and his group.

“Why did you do that?” snapped the ICC chairman.

“I believe the world had a right know quickly that one of its reviled men was done away with and that they were safe from more hardship he may have caused,” replied Soberk. He turned to T’Challa. “Don’t you agree?”

“No,” said T’Challa flatly.

“Then we have a difference of opinion,” said Soberk.

“Where they you find Midas?” asked Ororo.

“On a beach. I don’t know which country,” replied Soberk.

“Take us to it,” said Ororo. It was a command and not a request.

Soberk was unprepared for it, so a few seconds passed before he acted.

“Very well,” he said.

Chapter

Night was still present over the beach when the three heroes appeared. The sea was calm. Cold winds were blowing inland.

“They were over there,” pointed Soberk.

T’Challa caught Midas’s and six others scents. There were markings in the sand from the aircraft.

“You can return. We’ll find our way back,” said T’Challa sharply.

“Is there a problem here?” asked Soberk.

“We want to check out a few things,” replied Ororo.

“I’ll be at the prison if you need me,” said Soberk. Then he disappeared.

A bad guy got killed, yet the scenario does not feel authentic, thought T’Challa. He knew Ororo felt the same the way; hence the reason they were out there. They had to investigate the scene for themselves.

As usual Ororo surveyed the vicinity in terms of electromagnetic activity. “T’Challa there is a camera disguised as a rock over on that side.” She pointed inland at the jagged three-foot object.

They arrived at the hidden camera; she removed the camouflage. The small satellite camera was aimed towards the beach. It was self-powered and still transmitting.

“Someone was watching,” said T’Challa. “We can track the person.”

He took the kimoyo from off his belt. He activated the wireless function and transmitted to the Wakanda Secret Service. In three minutes, the secret service had via the kimoyo traced the location of the camera’s receiver.

T’Challa gave  the co ordinates to the sword’s time space computers. Thereafter the couple teleported from the beach into a supposedly abandoned warehouse. Instead the length and breath of the warehouse ground floor was an office.

A rack of multiple monitors was behind the couple. News footage of the Midas escape and capture were on the screens. A computerised map board of the world was nearby. On the ground were colour labelled computer cables and power plugs. There was the background noise of several operating fax machines.

Then T’Challa smelled cigarette smoke followed by the scent of the man that had kidnapped his mother.

Nonchalantly Kallus strolled out a corridor of stacked archives towards a computer terminal. He was reading a document in his hand intently. Ororo recognised him from the description Ramonda had given.

Suddenly he realised that he was not alone, and he turned slowly to the intruders; his mind on the gun rested on the table a three feet from him.

The hunters T’Challa and Ororo stared dead on at their prey. Kallus stared back eye to eye.

“You slipped,” muttered T’Challa.

Next Story: Soberk’s Ascension Pt II

Followed by: Blade the Vampire King

Age of Bashenga

Disarmament

Black Panther and Storm in The Home Front

Previously in The Black Panther and Storm:

For over ten thousand years warrior kings called Black Panthers ruled and protected the isolated and unconquerable African nation Wakanda. In their isolation Wakanda became the most scientifically advanced nation on Earth. T’Challa was the latest Black Panther, and he believed that his great nation was obligated to use its resources to help the less fortunate; defenseless peoples of the world against tyranny, corruption, and megalomaniac super humans.

Black Panther later married Ororo ‘Storm’ Munroe the non-Wakandan mutant heroine.

 

Story: The Home Front

 

Kallus didn’t warn Soberk about the dangerous Asgardian artefact. Instead the sixty years old man placed the attaché case on the table and he opened it. Revealing the small alien artefact.

“Talasama,” said Kallus.

At the utterance of the command word, the weapon hissed like a copperhead snake  and it produced a green gleam. Then it opened. Kallus watched as a tongue of fire rose sharply from within the artefact.

The fire sensed Soberk’s magic; thus it attacked him. Yet the man held his ground, and he opened his arms invitingly.

The fire engulfed Soberk’s young, slender and athletic body. “AHHH!”

Kallus felt the heat from the blaze while he stood across the room. It was not the first time he saw a human burnt alive. He had burned a few men, women and children in his career. He was familiar with the painful screams, the melted flesh and the smell. But other than for the wretched screams, Soberk’s burning was very different.

Soberk was in immeasurable pain. A mask of flames covered his face; he was blinded. He breathed erratically. Soon he was unable to stand; consequently, he dropped on his knees. He clawed at the air like a wild animal.

But through it all, he concentrated on his father because of the misery that the man had caused in his life. After a while, Soberk was quiet as he channelled everything to the thought of ridding the world of his father.

Kallus was observing the burning man. The fire hadn’t burnt Soberk’s body in the normal way. Rather the thick flames rested on the skin. The flesh became brown and hard.

Kallus sensed the evil within Soberk. It was a sixth sense born from years of working with unsavoury people.

Therefore Kallus knew he had chosen wisely, since he realised that Soberk hadn’t cured the sick in refugee camps with his minimal magic out of kindness, it was for the glory. He enjoyed the world’s attention.

Eventually the fire subsided on Soberk, until it vanished. He stared up at Kallus.

“You have twenty four hours to master the magic. Afterwards we oust your father,” said the spymaster while he noticed that Soberk’s eyes were dark grey. Five minutes ago they were brown.

Kallus was glad that he got the assignment, because it had been a while since he last orchestrated a puppet government.

The Asgardian artefact closed itself; then Kallus shut the attaché case. He walked out the room with the case, and he slammed the door behind him.

Raven was outside. The telepath was thin and five foot six inches tall.

The young woman was concerned about the choice of Soberk. Kallus saw it in her green eyes.

“Walk with me,” he said.

Raven turned and went side by side with her ‘godfather’.

“He is hiding many things from you,” said Raven. “Whenever I scan his mind I find new secrets, hidden in what I can only describe as black boxes. It’s like the last assignment.”

“And like the last assignment, you’re going to open those boxes for me,” said Kallus.

“It took a long time to pick Fury’s brain. Can you really afford to use Soberk without knowing what he is fully thinking?”

“Yes. What of our sleeper agent in Atlantis. Has he stated that the target is destroyed?”

“I’m still trying to reach him, it’s like he’s dead.”

What’s going on down there? Kallus wondered. Could Namor have stopped him?

“By the way have you been paying attention to the virus outbreak?” asked Raven.

“Very much so,” he replied with a cunning smile as he swung opened the door to the helipad.

Besides the overthrow of the Aranzi’s dictator, Kallus had T’Challa and Ororo on his mind. He received word from Exon that they had visited her for information on him.

They have reached that far, thought Kallus.

Chapter

T’Challa checked the twin sleds at the back of the mini submersible. The underwater vehicles were seven feet long. The steering system was easy to understand. The rider lied on his stomach and piloted the sled with the control panel in front of him.

T’Challa shifted his focus to the scuba gear. He checked the tanks, which reconverted carbon dioxide into oxygen. Everything was in order.

Then he studied the reason Ororo and him were headed for Atlantis. Namor. No one had seen or heard from him lately. Thus they all assumed that the submariner had finally had it with the outside world and he now concentrated on his home front.

Could it have come to that? T’Challa pondered. He had known Namor for a long time and pitied him once. For Namor in his attempts to safeguard Atlantis from outsiders sometimes made alliances with the wrong people. Often it was difficult to discern whether Namor was a friend or foe to humanity.

He is too naïve at times, thought T’Challa. He really has not been able to grasp human nature, so the people he genuinely respects are those that are straight forward with him.

T’Challa ventured into the navigation section of the submersible. Ororo piloted the vessel. Also she sent out hails to Atlantis, but there was no response. She scanned the sonar sensors. There was hardly any major movement in the vicinity of the vessel. Her own awareness of the bio electricity in the ocean showed relatively little activity around Atlantis.

“The equipment is fine,” said T’Challa.

“I was thinking. Atlantis could help in finding a vaccine for the virus,” said Ororo.

“Sure enough.”

“Also if Fury doesn’t find anything on the code then we should double our efforts on tracking Exon.”

“Umba does resemble her in some ways.”

Ororo pondered for a moment on Shetani. She didn’t like thinking about him because of her great dislike for the deceased man.

“Probably Shetani was metaphorical when he told Umba his mother was dead,” said Ororo.

“That she was dead to him.”

“Exactly,” said Ororo. “So she is alive. I wonder how Umba will react to that and plus she is a criminal.”

“A criminal we have to capture and interrogate,” said T’Challa and he reflected on his words.

“We’re approaching the pillars,” said Ororo.

T’Challa broke his train of thought, and he peered at the Pillars of Atlantis. There were one hundred pillars that formed a ring around Atlantis. The thick pillars climbed from the Ocean floor towards the surface. At the top of each one was the seal of Atlantis.

The seals protruded the ocean surface and they stood fifteen feet tall. They marked Atlantis’s territory and warned off boats.

“This is where Fury’s team was attacked. We’ll get out and face the guards,” said Ororo.

T’Challa and her quickly got into the scuba gear. Both of them could remain underwater for extended periods of time without artificial assistance. However they used the equipment because of the unpredictably associated with the mission.

T’Challa placed his sword on the right side of his sled. Ororo strapped her knife on the lower left leg, and she rested the tracker for the flight data recorder beacon near the controls. She switched on the device and the signal pointed towards Atlantis. Then she placed her white hair in a ponytail.

The couple kissed. Afterwards T’Challa sealed off the section from the rest of the vessel. On cue, Ororo initiated the flooding process. The ocean water poured into the section.

T’Challa and Ororo mounted their sleds and tested the communication links in the divers’ helmets.

“Do you here me babes?” asked T’Challa.

“I here you loud and clear hon.”

Eventually the section was filled with the icy water. T’Challa opened the door way, and Ororo drove her sled out of the submersible. Followed by T’Challa.

No sooner had they travelled a few metres from the vessel Ororo sensed the bio electricity of several large creatures headed towards them.

Chapter

“Four at 12 o’clock,” said Ororo.

“I see them and they’ re coming in fast.”

Atlanteans were scientifically classified as the mermanus race. They possessed superhuman strength and were naturally fast in water. Added to that was their military expertise.

Therefore T’Challa and Ororo knew they had a slight disadvantage.

“I don’t think they’re going to stop,” she said. Her memory returned to the meeting with Nicholas Fury forty-five minutes ago. He had stressed that the retrieval of the weapon that went down with the S.H.I.E.L.D plane was of great importance to international security.

“This isn’t like Namor. Usually he would stand before trespassers,” said T’Challa.

“Your right,” said Ororo as she remembered the proud king. “We’ll defend ourselves and see if that brings him out.”

“Got it.” T’Challa pressed a trigger on the sword’s handle. The robotic sheath slipped rapidly from the blade and into the hilt.

Then T’Challa stopped the sled’s engine and he pushed himself off with sword in hand. He inhaled deeply and concentrated on the two attackers who propelled towards him. Eventually his hyper vision allowed him to time the attacks.

Both guards carried swords and they swung the weapons concurrently at T’Challa. He in turn was making a slashing arc above his head with the sword. His dark force energy blade sliced through enemies’ swords.

Meanwhile Ororo faced upward and she concentrated on the ocean’s thermocline and surface winds. Her was intention was the manipulation of a major upwelling. Her eyes gleamed white and the arms were akimbo. Instantly the  winds blew strongly on the ocean’s surface, churning the warm upper current. That triggered a natural reaction from the calm cold water that flowed at the bottom of the ocean. Suddenly the cold water rushed upward and into the path of the two attacking guards.

The cold water punched up like a beast and it slammed into the guards. The force knocked them unconscious.

Ororo stopped the strong winds on the surface, her eyes returned to the blue hue and she lowered her head to the defeated guards.

T’Challa swirled around, and he looked for his attackers. They had turned sharply to their left and were then heading towards Atlantis on a different route. Soon their speed took them out of T’Challa’s sight.

Ororo examined the two guards.

“T’Challa do these look like Atlanteans to you?”

He swam to her and he checked the guards’ faces. They were grotesque. Abnormal fin ears protruded from the side of their heads. The pigmentation was a mixture of black and grey. Their teeth were sharp like a carnivore and the fingernails were long and pointed. One of the guards had a necklace of skulls-two were human and the five others were mermanus.

“No.”

Chapter

Atlantis was a dead kingdom. A nation so isolated that one knew of its passing. An eerie silence pervaded the dark homes and avenues. The citizens and soldiers lied scattered about. In the mist of the Atlanteans were the others like the guards and they too lay silently with weapons in their hands. And it appeared that the situation was so for a long time.

“There was a battle here,” commented Ororo.

“From the looks of it nobody won,” said T’Challa. “It also shows that Namor was not being stubborn as usual when he didn’t answer Fury’s calls.”

“To think that if the plane hadn’t crash in Atlantis no one might have discovered this.”

T’Challa stopped his sled, and he surveyed the main metropolis.

“There is the throne hall. Namor might be in it.”

But Ororo looked at the beacon tracker and the time on the control panel. The flight data recorder beacon had a three-hour limit before it died. Normally a flight data recorder beacon lasted thirty days, but Fury had wanted the one in the S.H.I.E.L.D plane to last for a short period. His logic was if he couldn’t find it no one else should.

“I’ll locate the beacon and search for the weapon,” said Ororo.

Subsequently T’Challa headed for the throne hall while Ororo travelled east. The signal grew stronger and she sped up the sled. She passed over hordes of bodies and damaged buildings.

Eventually she found the plane wreckage; it was strewn about the top of a dome building. Ororo left the sled. She found the plane’s tail and the orange flight data recorder was inside of it.

Afterwards Ororo scanned for the weapon. Fury had described it as being small and oval. Engraved on the surface was Surtur the horned and demon like fire creature from the Asgard dimension.

She activated the communications link. “I have the data recorder.”

“Good. I’m entering the palace as we speak.”

“Any sign of the guards?”

“None.”

“Okay. I’ll sweep the vicinity of the wreckage for the weapon in the meantime.”

“Take care.”

“I will.”

Ororo studied Fury’s other suggestion. If T’Challa and her couldn’t find the weapon then they should immediately deliver the flight data recorder directly to him.

T’Challa entered the grand hall. The grandeur of Atlantis architecture was showcased in the palace. Like the Romans, the submariners went for the spectacular in their designs.

Nevertheless the hall was filled with bodies. It stank, because opened wounds had gone unchecked. While several Atlantians and the strange creatures were dead, others had apparently just collapsed.

T’Challa ventured further in and he saw Namor’s cousin and she had also frequented the surface world.

Then he spotted Namor slouched on the steps to his throne.

Chapter

Namor was pink skinned, because he was  half human-his father was an American sea captain and his mother was an Atlantean princess. Oddly enough pure blood Atlanteans were blue pigmented. His royal blood had probably saved him from being an outcast in the Atlantean society.

His body had benefited from a century of fierce combat especially in World War II when he fought alongside the Allies; thus, he had a lean and sturdy build.

T’Challa lifted the king and rested him on the throne. He opened Namor’s right eye; checking the pupil. Then he did the same with the left eye.

“He isn’t dead,” T’Challa muttered. The he called Ororo and told her the news. “It appears to be a coma,” T’Challa said. “Most likely the majority of them are like this.”

“You should take him to the warship for a better analysis. I’ll be alright down here.” The confidence in her voice erased any concerns T’Challa had.

Then he sensed movement behind him; hence he spun around. He came eye to eye with a six-foot bipedal organism that was neither mermanus nor like the guards.

The skinny organism floated back a few meters. The skin was pale yellow, three fingers on the hands and slanted shoulders. There were no visible gills. The face had no eyes, only one gaping dark hole in the cavity of the slender head.

“You shall not remove Namor from Atlantis,” said the organism.

T’Challa heard the guttural voice through the communications link. He wondered if Ororo also picked it up.

“Who might you be?” asked T’Challa.

“I have no name. You appear to be from the surface world that Namor spoke of.”

T’Challa straightened up. “Do you know what happen to Atlantis?”

The organism waved it hands around. “I did this.”

T’Challa tightened his grip on the sword handle. He surmised that Ororo was headed for the throne hall. Also he determined that the organism rode on the communication link radio waves.

“For what reason?” inquired T’Challa.

“Namor and I made a pact. That Atlantis could be reconstructed on my home as long as I’m not disturbed.” The organism waved his hands at the bodies.

And you were, thought T’Challa.

“But from the evidence here, Atlantis was attacked. I guess the battle disturbed you. But you can’t punish Namor and Atlantis for that. It might have been out of their hands.”

“Correct. That’s why I have done Namor a favour. He told me of his troubles with the outside world. I saw that it burdened him. So by putting him in eternal rest I have helped him. I have used the savages as guards to Atlantis so there are no more disturbances.”

Ororo entered the throne room on the sled. The organism was slightly startled by her arrival. She left the vehicle and soon joined T’Challa.

“You can undo this?” asked Ororo. She had heard the entire conversation over her communications link.

The organism pondered for a moment. “Of course.”

“There is another solution to all of this. Atlantis can move again. Awaken Namor and we’ll get him to agree,” said Ororo.

“What guarantees are there that the three of you will not turn on me?” asked the organism as it remembered that Namor had a violent temper.

“You have our word,” said T’Challa.

“I also had Namor’s word,” the organism said angrily.

T’Challa had a gusty idea, but it required Ororo’s approval. Thus he stared at her. The exquisite beauty looked back at him. His eyes transmitted that he wanted to take a bold chance. In response, Ororo held his hand and nodded slightly. Then T’Challa returned his attention to the organism.

“If Namor doesn’t agree or we attack, then you can put us to rest like the others,” said T’Challa.

The organism contemplated.

T’Challa turned to Ororo. “Your all right with this?”

“Perfectly,” she answered.

The organism interrupted. “You will risk your lives to help him. Why?”

“Because he’s a friend of ours,” replied T’Challa.

The organism took its time. “So be it,” the creature eventually said. Then with a simple hand gesture it awakened Namor. Afterwards the organism vanished.

Chapter

“ATTUMA!” shouted Namor as he opened his eyes and he clenched his fists. He stood sharply due to his warrior instincts. He breathed rapidly. Then he saw the battlefield that was his throne room. Thereafter T’Challa and Ororo.

“What? What are you doing here?” asked Namor as he controlled his breathing.

“We came to Atlantis on behalf of Fury and found this,” replied T’Challa and he opened his left arm to indicate the bodies.

“A creature that you made a pact with placed you and the attackers in a coma,” said Ororo.

A frowning Namor was descending from the throne. “The Ancient did this?”

“That’s what you call him?” asked T’Challa.

“He’s older than Atlantis even the one that once existed on the surface. I accidentally discovered him when rebuilding the kingdom here,” replied Namor.

“You have to relocate Atlantis. It’s the only way he’s going to revive the rest of the kingdom,” said Ororo.

But Namor had moved away before she had finished. He darted towards a specific non-mermanus creature. It was the largest one of them all- seven feet long and bulky.

“Attuma,” said Namor while he stared at his nemesis that wanted rulership of Atlantis. “I rather slay you in open combat than like this.”

Namor turned to Ororo. “I have no qualms in relocating to save my nation. But it will take time to find a new place.”

Yet Namor had an issue. His couldn’t allow his people to be scattered again. That had occurred when his renegade son destroyed the last Atlantis. It was a personal tragedy for him as both a king and a father.

The Ancient reappeared above the three. “Then time you shall have, but Atlantis will rest until then.”

Chapter

What do I tell T’Challa and Ororo? Nicholas Fury pondered.

He recalled his meeting with the contact from the US Department of Defence. Retired Major Richard Bradman worked as a consultant at the agency and he had outlined the situation to Fury.

“The organisation and I use the term loosely, that existed before S.H.I.E.L.D was never dissolved. Instead it went off reservation. Privately funded so no government subcommittee oversight nonsense and no drastic change in policies whenever a new administration comes in. Occasionally they get directives, but it’s mostly them calling the shots,” said Bradman and he pushed back the page that had the code T’Challa and Ororo had given Fury.

“Also they aren’t affiliated to any flag,” continued Bradman.

“So they don’t operate on behest of the US government?” asked Fury.

“Nope.” He stared at Fury. “These are the good guys no matter how they appear. They’re on our side.”

It was the ‘good guys’ term that bothered Fury on his flight to the navy warship Freedom. T’Challa and Ororo had discovered the code in their search for Wakanda’s Queen Mother kidnapper.

The organisation must have taken her for information, thought Fury. That was her value. But then they tried to kill her.

“That’s the difference between them and me, I have a conscience sometimes,” Fury muttered.

Still can I give up these people to T’Challa and Ororo? He wondered.

Fury was also intrigued by the organisation. While his own dealt publicly with superhuman threats the predecessor had operated silently in the background. At first the truth baffled him, because he believed that he knew everything about the spy business. His extensive knowledge was due to his slow ageing since the end of World War II. As a result, he was there when all the known spy agencies were built up throughout the world. He knew the backdoors, the contacts and the systems.

His ego was jolted when Bradman broke the news that there was an entity he was oblivious too. It also meant that there were spymasters like him in the organisation, and they would be equally experienced.

The plane approached the warship’s flight deck. Fury checked his watch.

T’Challa and Ororo should be back by now, he thought.

The plane taxied and halted. Fury disembarked and the deck crew stood at attention for the S.H.I.E.L.D Director. He had a forty-year-old appearance. His body was built like a commando for speed, stamina and strength. The hair was a mixture of black and grey.

Fury went directly to his office. He had given instructions that the office was off limits.

He opened the door. T’Challa and Ororo were seated at the desk and the flight data recorder was on it.

What to tell them? He asked himself.

Chapter

Ororo knew Fury from when S.H.I.E.L.D dealt with the X men in mutant affairs. She explained Namor’s predicament.

“No one else must know this,” stated Ororo. “With regards to the weapon. It was not there.”

The Ancient had helped in the search and he did not tamper with the plane wreckage.

“All right,” said Fury now eager to view the information on the flight data recorder.

“What do you have for us?” asked T’Challa.

Fury looked at him with his good right eye. The left eye was damaged in France at end of World War II; thus, a patch covered it.

“I didn’t get a name but he’s apart of a wider organisation. Non affiliated to any country. They are on our side. He might be a rogue element. The only way I see them handing him over is if you have something to trade,” replied Fury. He had added the last part so at least the couple had a chance.

“That’s all?” asked T’Challa.

“That’s all,” said Fury.

“And you can’t give us the contact’s name?” inquired Ororo.

“No,” replied Fury.

There was a brief pause.

“Okay Nick,” said Ororo, standing. “If anything else comes up please inform us.”

“Will do,” said Fury.

T’Challa rose, said something to his sword, and then the couple vanished from the office.

Fury quickly opened the flight data recorder, and a compact disc ejected from it. He took the disc and inserted it into his computer. He selected the recent footage and he pressed PLAY.

The Asgardian artefact was in the cargo area and four androids guarded it. Suddenly a masked woman teleported into the cargo area. There was a gunfight between her and the androids. The thief won. She held the artefact and then teleported out of the plane. Meanwhile the plane was damaged, and it began a rapid descent.

Fury stopped the video. He hit REWIND. Then he played it slowly.

His sanity had just taken a heavy blow, because only he knew of the plane’s existence. The artefact was the first item that was entrusted into S.H.I.E.L.D’s care when he was appointed director. The weapon stored a piece of Surtur.

As a result, Fury had placed the artefact on the computer piloted plane. The plane was never to land. It was refuelled by another computer piloted plane in mid air.

He scratched his forehead.

Whoever was responsible went through my mind and got the intel, he thought.

“So what else could they have uncovered?” he asked gravely.

Chapter

T’Challa just finished a video conversation with Namor where the king expressed his gratitude to Ororo and him.

Ororo entered the communications room. “Umba knows.”

A few minutes later, T’Challa and Ororo were downstairs in the living room with Umba.

The fifteen-year-old revealed the manner he found out Nakia Exon was his mother.

“My mother is as worst as my father, but at least he acknowledge that I was his son,” remarked Umba.

Ororo hugged him. “T’Challa and I will help you get through this. If ever you want to talk-”

“I don’t feel like talking about it,” said Umba.

“Still we are here if ever,” said T’Challa. His hands were clasped between the knees while the elbows rested on the thighs. He sat on the edge of the chair. He stared at his wife and ward.

Ororo glanced at him. She had remembered their earlier conversation about Exon. So did T’Challa.

Gradually Ororo released Umba. “I have to tell Enzi.”

“Okay,” said Ororo.

Then he left them and went in his room. Afterwards T’Challa reflected on the trials Umba had faced: the blindness, the super power he was given that was more a curse than anything else and the death of his father.

Now this, thought T’Challa.

He sat correctly in the chair and Ororo settled on his lap. Her arm was around his neck.

“We can’t bring along the next time we find her,” Ororo said.

“Your correct.”

Then they kissed.

In the next several hours the couple concentrated on the mystery virus. The epidemic had gripped the world. T’Challa and Ororo negotiated for a virus sample from the World Health Organisation for Wakanda’s virologists.

The scientists soon discovered the great complexity of the matter. Hours passed and the search for a quick vaccine became more a wish than reality.

T’Challa and Ororo left the Bio Hazard Division, and they returned home to rethink their strategy. Incidentally they made love. It was a quick noisy combustion of passion born out the frustration for the search of the mercenary contractor and the seeming futility of the finding a vaccine for the virus.

Chapter

The Capital of Aranzi.

The Great House

Alex Soberk stormed into his father’s house. Fire poured out of his hands and it incinerated everyone in his path. He repelled bullets with hand gestures.

 His target was his father-the dictator.

The old man was on the fourth floor of the Great House. Soberk sensed his location; he closed in for the kill like a predator. On his way, he murdered his elder and younger brothers who defended their father. The siblings cried out, as they were burned alive.

But before Soberk had killed his young brother, he had taken the man’s mobile phone and used it. Then he crushed the device in his hand.

Soon afterwards, he came upon his father. The bald man cowered at his son’s feet. In an instant, he was black ash blowing across the room and through the balcony doorway.

The flames died down in Soberk’s hands.

“Its finished,” he said.

Kallus and a masked woman-Glimmer-teleported near to Soberk.

“Well done son,” commented Kallus.

“I’m not your son,” shot back Soberk.

Kallus ignored it; he handed Soberk a document and a list. “The first one is the speech that you will give the nation and the world media. The list provides the actions you will take in the next few days. Curing the virus and healing the infected are the major priorities.”

Soberk smiled. “You have this all worked out.”

Kallus didn’t answer. He had Soberk right where he wanted him. The power boost he had given the man was temporary and addictive like heroin. Soberk would require more of the boost from time to time.

Kallus knew about the Asgard artefact because it was his father and an army team that retrieved it from the Asgard dimension. Therefore Kallus knew it was placed in Fury’s hands.

The spymaster glanced at Glimmer and the woman understood. Thus Kallus and her disappeared.

Soberk stared at the capital city from the balcony. Aranzi was now his country and his intended rule would be without outside help. He grinned.

“Whatever your real name is sir. You are a fool. You can pull my strings for now but it won’t be so forever,” he said.

Chapter

T’Challa stroked Ororo’s exposed back as he sat on the edge of the bed. She smiled at him. Then the kimoyo rang and he answered it. There was a text message that read:

My name is Alex Soberk. I require your urgent help.

Next Story: Soberk’s Ascension Part I