The first punch struck M'Baku across the face.
The second followed almost immediately.
T'Chaka took advantage of his opponent's brief loss of balance and struck both sides of his head at once.
The Jabari warrior grunted and stumbled backward, dazed.
The king didn't waste the opportunity.
He created some distance.
Around them, the throne room had become yet another battlefield.
More Wakandan soldiers poured in through the main entrances to support the Dora Milaje, who were still fighting M'Baku's warriors. Orders mixed with the clash of weapons and the constant warnings from the emergency systems.
T'Chaka brought one hand to his abdomen.
The dagger was still there.
He grunted through clenched teeth.
Removing it now would only make things worse.
Grabbing part of his clothing, he tore off a strip with his teeth and wrapped the fabric tightly around the wound, keeping the weapon as still as possible while securing the improvised bandage.
It hurt.
A lot.
But there were far more important problems to worry about.
Across the room, enormous tactical displays covered one wall, showing different areas of the country marked in red.
Flooded coastlines.
Evacuated settlements.
Routes cut off by the rising water.
Wakanda was under attack.
And M'Baku stood directly in front of him.
T'Chaka raised his head.
"Do you really think this is the time?"
The Jabari leader didn't answer.
"Look around you."
The king briefly gestured toward the screens.
"Our land is under attack. Our people are in danger."
Nothing.
M'Baku's eyes remained fixed on him.
He didn't even blink.
T'Chaka frowned.
"M'Baku."
The man slowly settled into a fighting stance.
There was no provocation in his expression.
No pride.
Not even the fury T'Chaka had grown accustomed to seeing whenever the two of them faced each other.
Only that empty stare.
Unmoving.
The warrior bent his knees and charged.
T'Chaka retreated, doing his best to evade the rapid succession of blows. The makeshift bandage around his abdomen quickly began to stain, and every movement reminded him of the dagger still lodged there.
He gritted his teeth.
There was no time to think about the pain.
His opponent certainly wasn't going to give him the chance.
The Jabari used his entire body to keep the pressure on. T'Chaka avoided whatever strikes he could and blocked the ones he couldn't, but his mobility was steadily worsening. The wound prevented him from twisting or retreating with the speed he needed, and little by little, M'Baku forced him to give up ground.
The king attempted to counter.
He never got the chance.
His opponent knocked the strike aside with his forearm and prepared another charge.
Then a flash streaked across the room.
The blast struck M'Baku in the side, sending him heavily to the floor.
Three more shots hit him before he could rise.
He stayed down.
T'Chaka remained motionless for a second, arms still raised, before finally looking around.
Ramonda stood with an energy pistol extended in front of her.
The weapon remained aimed at M'Baku.
There was no hesitation or regret in her eyes.
The Jabari warriors who had accompanied their leader had already been subdued by the Dora Milaje and the guards who had arrived as reinforcements.
T'Chaka finally released the breath he'd been holding and dropped to one knee.
One hand immediately returned to his abdomen.
Ramonda holstered the weapon and crossed the distance between them. Kneeling beside him, she placed one hand near the wound and wrapped the other arm around his back to help him stand.
"You're getting rusty, old panther."
T'Chaka let out a quiet laugh through clenched teeth.
"Age catches up even with kings, my love."
Several Dora Milaje immediately approached.
"My king, we need to take you to the medical wing at once."
T'Chaka raised a hand before she could continue.
Something had caught his attention.
M'Baku was moving.
Ramonda noticed as well and reached for her weapon again.
"Wait," T'Chaka stopped her.
The Jabari was still lying on the floor, but his movements didn't resemble those of a man trying to return to the fight.
He was removing pieces of his armor.
Slowly.
With difficulty.
T'Chaka frowned.
"What is he doing?"
M'Baku managed to tear away the chest piece, then struggled with the garment underneath. His arms barely responded, and every movement was clumsy and desperate.
Even so, T'Chaka moved closer.
His wife supported him through the first few steps, but once they were near enough, the king pulled away and continued on his own.
"My king..." one of the Dora warned.
T'Chaka didn't answer.
He crouched beside the warrior.
The energy blasts had left several marks across his torso, yet M'Baku seemed completely unaware of them. His eyes remained distant, focused solely on T'Chaka, while his hands repeatedly clawed at the fabric.
He wasn't trying to stand.
He wasn't attempting another attack.
He wanted to show him something.
The king grabbed the garment with both hands and tore it open.
M'Baku's chest was exposed.
T'Chaka waited.
Nothing seemed unusual.
"What are you trying to show me?"
M'Baku brought one hand to the center of his chest.
Then started scratching.
T'Chaka's frown deepened.
The movement was frantic and erratic, almost as though he were trying to reach something beneath the skin.
The king studied the exact spot his fingers kept returning to.
Then he looked toward one of the Dora Milaje.
"Give me a dagger."
She hesitated for only a second before handing it over.
Ramonda stepped closer.
"T'Chaka."
"I know what I'm doing."
At least, he hoped he did.
He carefully pressed the dagger's tip against the place M'Baku had been indicating.
It only went in a short distance before meeting resistance.
That wasn't bone.
The sensation was completely different.
Hard.
Smooth.
Something small and solid was buried there.
T'Chaka glanced back at the Jabari.
M'Baku's eyes remained fixed on him.
The king widened the opening slightly, set the blade aside, and carefully reached in until he found what he'd felt.
He grabbed it.
And pulled.
A small violet gem appeared between his fingers.
No larger than a marble.
T'Chaka held it up.
For a moment, the stone gave off a faint glow.
Then the light vanished.
"T'Chaka..."
The king immediately looked down.
Something had changed.
M'Baku's eyes were no longer empty.
The ferocity T'Chaka had always known had returned.
The pride.
The anger.
"M'Baku."
The Jabari struggled to breathe.
"She buried... those things in us."
T'Chaka tightened his fingers around the gem.
"Who?"
M'Baku tried to speak again.
"The Jabari tribe... all of us..."
His voice barely came out.
Strength slowly left his body, and his eyes began to lose focus once more.
Another warning suddenly appeared across the tactical screens.
Then another.
And another.
Within seconds, several areas of the map were covered in new red markers.
The displays shifted to show hundreds of Jabari warriors attacking strategic positions throughout Wakanda. Some advanced on the palace entrances, while others stormed military facilities or blocked routes used to move troops and evacuate civilians.
The Wakandan artificial intelligence filled the room.
"ALERT. HOSTILE ACTIVITY DETECTED ACROSS MULTIPLE SECTORS. JABARI FORCES HAVE PARTIALLY DISRUPTED MILITARY AND RESCUE AIRCRAFT DEPLOYMENT. TROOP MOBILITY COMPROMISED IN SEVERAL REGIONS."
Ramonda stared at the displays in disbelief.
"First the Atlanteans... and now a rebellion?"
T'Chaka forced himself back to his feet.
One hand remained pressed against the improvised bandage around his abdomen, while the other still held the small violet gem.
He studied it for several seconds.
Remembered M'Baku's empty stare.
The way he'd attacked without responding to anything T'Chaka said.
And, most importantly, the change that had come over him the moment the stone stopped glowing.
"No."
Ramonda turned toward him.
The king slowly closed his fingers around the gem.
"I don't think this is a rebellion."
The screens continued cycling through different conflict zones.
One showed a city near the coast, partially submerged beneath rising water. Atlantean forces moved through the streets, attacking everything in their path while Wakandan defenders struggled to hold them back from both ground and air.
The water continued to rise.
Rescue aircraft descended between buildings to collect civilians, lifting off the moment they were full as others took their place.
The fighting raged below.
Shots tore through the flooded streets.
The water kept advancing.
And while all of that unfolded, an enormous shadow began spreading across the city.
Sunlight slowly vanished beneath immense black clouds stretching across the sky.
====
Hunter moved first.
The engines in his suit activated, propelling him forward. He used the momentum to spin and throw a kick straight toward his brother's head.
T'Challa raised both arms.
The impact pushed him several yards through the water, but he kept his guard intact and countered before Hunter could fully recover. His fist went for the older man's face.
Hunter tilted his head just enough to let it pass, then caught his wrist.
The prince didn't remain still.
He drove his body forward and threw an elbow.
This one connected.
Hunter drifted back several yards before stabilizing himself.
"You've improved, brother."
"So have you."
They collided again in the middle of the water.
T'Challa blocked a blow aimed at his chest and countered toward the ribs. Hunter redirected his arm and tried to catch him by the shoulder, but the prince dropped beneath his guard using the thrusters in his legs.
A knee struck Hunter in the abdomen.
The older man exhaled sharply and moved back, though he managed to strike T'Challa from the side before creating distance.
They separated.
Only for a moment.
The next exchange was far faster.
Hunter feinted toward the face, changed direction, and struck his brother's torso. T'Challa absorbed the hit and answered with a kick, but the leader of the Hatut Zeraze had already begun turning.
His forearm redirected the leg.
One hand caught T'Challa by the ankle.
The prince understood what was happening too late.
Hunter pulled him in and used their combined momentum to throw him toward one of the castle's outer walls.
T'Challa rotated underwater.
His feet struck the stone first.
The surface cracked slightly beneath his boots.
He launched himself forward again.
This time, Hunter expected a frontal attack.
The prince changed direction midway through the approach.
A kick came from the side.
Hunter blocked it.
The second hit his shoulder.
T'Challa followed with a punch toward the face, but his brother deflected it and answered with a blow to the abdomen.
The prince moved back.
"Do you really have no doubts?"
Hunter advanced with him.
"About what?"
Strike.
Block.
T'Challa countered with an elbow.
Hunter slipped aside.
"About what you're trying to do."
Another kick passed between them.
"We're talking about an entire city, Hunter."
The older man caught the next punch and pulled him closer.
T'Challa was ready this time and answered with a knee. Hunter crossed both arms to block it, though the force was enough to make him release his grip.
They separated again.
"And I'm talking about Wakanda," Hunter replied as he reset his stance. "That's the only part I care about."
T'Challa frowned.
"And everyone living here?"
"They're citizens of a nation attacking ours."
"Does that make every one of them an enemy?"
"No."
Hunter charged again.
T'Challa avoided the first punch.
The second struck his chest.
"But it doesn't make them our responsibility either. Blame their rulers for making us their enemies."
The prince answered with a hook.
Hunter blocked.
A low kick followed immediately and struck his leg.
The older man briefly lost his balance.
T'Challa moved in.
Two quick punches.
The first was blocked.
The second caught Hunter across the jaw.
He drifted backward.
"Is it really that simple for you?" T'Challa asked, following him. "Thousands of people are going to die, and you just accept it as part of the job?"
Hunter avoided a punch and answered with one of his own.
"Yes."
His fist struck the prince's side.
T'Challa gritted his teeth.
Hunter continued.
"Because that is my job."
Another charge.
The prince moved aside.
"Protect Wakanda. Train until I collapse. Sleep with one eye open. I don't need everyone to understand my decisions."
Hunter suddenly accelerated.
T'Challa managed to block a kick, but the force still pushed him several yards.
"I was raised to do the things everyone else refuses to do."
The prince recovered his position.
"That doesn't mean you have to become a monster."
Hunter let out a short laugh.
"You still think it works that way."
They collided again.
Their forearms met.
Hunter tried to turn around him, but T'Challa shifted his shoulder and prevented the hold. A kick to the torso forced his brother backward.
"You know what your problem is?" Hunter continued.
"I'm sure you're about to tell me."
"You grew up seeing only the beautiful side of all this."
T'Challa threw another punch.
Hunter slipped past it.
"The kings."
Another strike.
"The Royal Guard."
The older man blocked the next attack and tried to counter.
T'Challa leaned back, letting the fist pass inches from his face.
"Honor. Tradition. Proud warriors defending Wakanda."
Hunter attacked again.
This time, the prince anticipated him and met the advance with a direct kick to the chest.
His brother drifted several yards backward.
T'Challa gave him the faintest smile.
"Sounds considerably better than the alternative."
Hunter steadied himself.
"Does it?"
"I'm fairly sure."
The older man glanced toward Okoye.
"The Dora aren't so different from us."
The general remained some distance away, still covered by the targeting systems of the Hatut Zeraze submarine.
She didn't interfere.
T'Challa looked back at his brother.
"Leave them out of this."
"Why?"
Hunter propelled himself forward.
The prince blocked one blow and returned another.
"Their duty is to protect the royal family. If they believe someone is a threat, they don't hesitate."
T'Challa struck his shoulder.
Hunter answered to the abdomen.
They separated again.
"They have a code."
"So do we."
"It's not the same."
Hunter tilted his head.
"Because they carry spears instead of guns?"
T'Challa advanced again.
Hunter caught the first strike on his forearm, but the second hit his torso. The prince used the opening to add a kick that forced him farther back.
"The Dora Milaje protect Wakanda with honor."
Hunter corrected his position.
"With you and Shuri."
T'Challa narrowed his eyes.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"You know them as sisters, teachers, protectors... respected women who have been there since you were children."
The prince attacked again.
Hunter dodged.
"That doesn't change what they become when they're given an order."
He countered with a kick.
T'Challa blocked.
"Killers."
The prince's expression hardened.
"Stop talking nonsense."
"Deny it all you want."
Hunter tried to strike.
T'Challa redirected the punch and landed one of his own across Hunter's face.
The older man moved back.
"You're talking about Okoye."
"I'm talking about all of them."
Another charge.
This time, T'Challa was ready.
He knocked the first arm aside, ducked beneath the second, and struck his brother in the abdomen.
Hunter exhaled sharply.
The prince pressed forward.
"You don't know Okoye better than I do."
"I don't need to. I only need to know what she does when she's given an order. One your father and your beloved Okoye have kept hidden from you and our sister."
Hunter tried to answer with a strike.
T'Challa blocked it.
The rhythm had changed.
Now the prince controlled the distance.
Hunter was still reading his movements, but each reaction came slightly later than before.
T'Challa feinted toward the face and struck the torso.
His brother tried to grab him, only to receive a kick before he could close his fingers.
Another.
Hunter retreated.
"Want to know what the Dora are really like?" he asked while regaining his balance.
"I already know."
"Then ask her."
T'Challa advanced.
Hunter blocked.
The prince struck again.
This time he forced his brother farther back.
"Ask her what?"
Hunter smiled.
"Oakland, California. 1992. Didn't you ever wonder what really happened to your uncle N'Jobu?... Did you even know you had a cousin?"
T'Challa froze for barely a fraction of a second.
Hunter noticed.
"Ask her what her mission was... and what they did."
The prince frowned.
Instinctively, he glanced toward Okoye.
That was enough.
T'Challa realized the mistake too late.
Hunter appeared directly in front of him.
The punch struck his jaw and sent him backward.
Before he could regain his position, his brother was already there.
A punch to the abdomen.
Another to the chest.
T'Challa blocked the next, but Hunter changed angles and landed a kick against his side.
"Focus!" the older man growled as he continued advancing. "In a fight, one distraction is enough."
T'Challa managed to redirect a punch.
Hunter threw another.
The prince blocked again.
"What happened in Oakland?"
"We're not talking about that right now."
"You're the one who brought it up!"
"Because I needed you to look away."
A knee struck T'Challa in the abdomen.
The prince exhaled sharply.
Hunter tried to catch him by the shoulder.
This time, he failed.
T'Challa dropped.
Hunter had expected him to retreat, not descend directly underneath him.
The prince seized one of his arms and activated the thrusters.
The movement pulled both of them sideways, forcing Hunter to rotate to avoid completely losing his balance.
He broke free.
"Improvising now?"
"It's working."
Hunter answered with a kick.
T'Challa dodged and countered, but his brother anticipated him again.
The first strike was blocked, and Hunter prepared the response before the second arrived.
Exactly what the prince had expected.
T'Challa stopped halfway through the movement.
Hunter reacted too early.
The prince changed direction and struck him from the side.
His brother moved back.
T'Challa followed.
A punch to the torso.
Hunter blocked.
T'Challa feinted toward the face, then suddenly dropped, letting the next attack pass overhead.
Before the older man could correct his stance, a knee struck his abdomen.
Hunter released a sharp breath.
"You've always been better than me at martial arts, brother. I never managed to beat you in a fight."
Hunter looked up.
"And you were always more talented. I only won because I never stopped training. One advantage of not having to study royal etiquette, I suppose."
T'Challa attacked again.
This time, he abandoned a constant rhythm.
Movements stopped midway.
Angles changed halfway through.
His thrusters were used in ways that didn't fit the fighting style both men had been taught.
Hunter kept blocking.
But every defense came just a little later.
One punch struck his shoulder.
Another hit his chest.
The older man tried to regain control with a frontal charge.
T'Challa stepped aside.
Hunter passed him.
The prince caught his arm and used his brother's momentum to force him into a turn.
Both sets of thrusters activated almost simultaneously, creating a powerful current around them.
Hunter tried to correct.
T'Challa changed the direction of his own propulsion.
The movement caught him off guard.
Hunter lost his balance.
The prince drove him into the ground.
The older man planted one hand and immediately tried to rise.
T'Challa was already on him.
Hunter threw a punch from below.
It was redirected.
The second didn't connect either.
T'Challa moved behind him, caught one arm, and pinned it against his back.
Hunter tried to use the other.
The prince controlled that one too.
Both activated their thrusters.
For several seconds, neither gained ground.
Then Hunter began losing.
T'Challa increased the pressure.
"Don't keep fighting."
"I can still fight."
"But you can't move anymore. Accept your defeat and keep your honor."
Hunter tried again.
Nothing.
The prince maintained the hold.
"It's over."
For several seconds, his brother remained completely still.
Finally, Hunter shut off his thrusters.
T'Challa waited before releasing him and moving away.
Hunter remained on one knee, catching his breath.
"You improvised... huh. That's new for you."
The prince was breathing heavily as well.
"You cheated."
Hunter raised an eyebrow.
"I only talked."
"You made me look away."
"And it worked. Learn from it and don't make that mistake again."
Then he let out a small laugh.
"Father would be proud."
T'Challa took a deep breath and approached his brother.
Hunter remained on one knee, still recovering from the fight.
The prince stopped in front of him and extended a hand.
"Then it's decided."
Hunter stared at the offered hand for several seconds before sighing.
"Well... that was the deal, wasn't it?"
He accepted it.
T'Challa pulled him upright.
But even once Hunter was standing again, he didn't release his hand.
His brother suddenly pulled him forward and struck him directly across the jaw.
T'Challa lost his bearings for a moment.
Before he could react, another blow struck him from behind and sent him down.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he demanded while trying to rise. "We had a deal!"
Hunter kept him down long enough to reach toward his belt.
"When Wakanda is involved, no agreement matters."
His fingers found the sphere.
T'Challa tried to stop him, but he was still dazed from the blows.
Hunter pulled it free and created distance before the prince could recover it.
For several seconds, he studied the device resting in his palm.
"With this, we'll finally remove a massive burden from our shoulders."
The surface of the sphere began to flicker.
Hunter frowned.
The light appeared again.
Once.
Then twice.
Faster each time.
His eyes widened in surprise, and he instinctively moved away from his brother while holding the bomb at arm's length.
T'Challa, still on the ground, stared at it as well.
Then a young voice came through both of their communicators.
"I don't care what deal you made or how important your stupid little fight was. Nobody is detonating a nuclear bomb I helped build without my permission."
Both brothers turned almost simultaneously.
Near a formation of coral, a silhouette slowly became visible as its camouflage disengaged.
Shuri was sitting there.
Watching them.
One hand rested on the panel along her forearm.
"Sister..." Hunter said, genuinely surprised. "I'm glad you're all right. The last time I saw you..."
"No."
Shuri raised one finger.
"No 'sister.' What exactly do you think you're doing, Hunter?"
For a second, the older man went completely blank, clearly caught off guard by her tone.
"Shuri, I don't expect you to understand, but..."
"No, I don't understand. And I don't have the time or patience to try."
She stood and pointed toward both brothers.
"I just kicked the ass of a giant tuna nearly eight feet tall while you two were over here playing fight club."
Hunter opened his mouth.
Shuri pointed directly at him.
"You lost."
He closed it again.
"And even if you'd won, you still wouldn't have been able to do anything with that thing unless I gave you the activation codes."
The princess pointed toward the sphere still in his hand.
"Did you seriously think I wouldn't realize Father was asking me to help build a nuclear bomb?"
Hunter remained silent.
"I'm not Oppenheimer," Shuri continued, frowning. "If that thing is ever used, it will only happen because I decide it should. Understood?"
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Hunter looked at his sister with an expression he rarely showed.
Surprise.
Shuri had always been direct with him, even insolent whenever she wanted to get under his skin, but he couldn't remember ever seeing her genuinely angry like this.
T'Challa finally reached them and stopped beside her.
"You heard the boss."
Shuri glanced toward him.
T'Challa smiled.
Hunter looked at one.
Then the other.
Finally, he released a long sigh and shook his head.
"Fine."
He raised one hand.
A short distance away, the hundreds of red targeting dots covering Okoye's body vanished almost simultaneously.
"All right," Hunter said at last. "I can't fight you, sister."
Shuri raised an eyebrow.
"No. You can't."
Then she turned toward the general.
"Hi, Okoye!"
The Dora Milaje answered with a slight nod.
"If you're here, then that means..."
"Yep."
Shuri looked down at the panel on her forearm and tapped several controls.
A progress bar appeared.
100%
The princess smiled.
"Upload's finished. Now all we need to do is contact home and..."
She stopped.
Her expression changed.
Several windows appeared in front of them, displaying transmissions from different parts of Wakanda.
Alerts.
Flooded areas.
Fighting.
Rescue craft leaving with civilians.
And hundreds of warriors advancing from inside the country.
Hunter approached one of the displays.
"Are those... Jabari?"
His eyes narrowed.
"I knew we should've dealt with them. Damn apes."
"They moved their attack forward," T'Challa said, staring grimly at the images of his homeland.
Shuri rapidly switched between several different transmissions.
"The Atlanteans are coming in from the coasts. They're flooding everything in their path while advancing toward the capital."
She enlarged another image.
Wakandan defenses were trying to contain them on several fronts, with energy shields deployed to slow the advancing water.
It wasn't enough.
"They can barely hold them back."
A new transmission took over the main screen.
The feed came from a building in one of the cities under attack.
Namor tore through the sky like a projectile, trident extended in front of him.
He passed directly through a formation of Wakandan combat aircraft, breaking their formation and forcing them to scatter.
T'Challa clenched his jaw.
"They won't be able to hold out much longer like this."
Then a deafening boom shook the sky.
Even through the transmission, the sound briefly overwhelmed the camera's systems.
Namor stopped in midair.
All three siblings focused on the image.
A second boom rolled across the city.
And the sky opened.
Hundreds of lightning bolts descended from the clouds almost simultaneously.
The strikes hit the flooded streets and Atlantean positions below. Each discharge spread through the seawater covering the area, reaching nearby soldiers as well. Dozens lost formation while others rushed away from the places where lightning continued to fall.
Within seconds, the Atlantean advance began to collapse into disorder.
Namor hovered above it all.
For a moment, he watched the chaos below.
Then slowly raised his head toward the sky.
Immense black clouds had gathered above the city.
Sunlight disappeared beneath the dark mass as more lightning built within it.
Shuri frowned.
Namor was still staring upward.
The princess moved her fingers across the controls and shifted the camera in the same direction.
"But what the..." Hunter murmured as he watched the clouds. "As if we didn't already have enough water. Now a storm too?"
Shuri didn't answer.
She zoomed in.
"No."
The camera magnified the image as much as the distance allowed.
Something could be seen among the clouds.
A human figure.
Suspended in the sky.
Lightning briefly illuminated the silhouette before it disappeared once more into the darkness.
Shuri smiled.
"Mami Wata."
T'Challa turned toward her.
The young woman kept her eyes fixed on the screen.
"The Goddess of Storms."
====
HEEEY, HOW'S EVERYONE DOING? HOPE YOU'RE ALL DOING WELL.
WELL, AS YOU CAN SEE, WE ONLY HAVE A COUPLE OF FIGHTS LEFT BEFORE WE FINALLY REACH THE END OF THIS ARC.
LOOKS LIKE SHURI ISN'T QUITE AS EASY TO FOOL AS HER FATHER THOUGHT.
GUYS, AS ALWAYS, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR COMMENTS AND SUPPORT.
REMEMBER, WE HAVE A PATREON, WHERE I POST IMAGES AND NEW CHAPTERS EARLY:
patreon.com/EmptyTag
I FELL A LITTLE BEHIND WITH THIS CHAPTER, SO DON'T WORRY. I'LL ALSO BE POSTING THE ONE SCHEDULED FOR THIS WEEK.
TAKE CARE, GUYS 😘
BY THE WAY...
I'M ALSO WORKING ON SOMETHING ELSE...
SOMETHING THAT WILL BEGIN ONCE THIS ARC IS FINISHED.