Erik turned to look at T'Chaka and spoke calmly.
"T'Chaka, I am the King of Wakanda now. You have no right to speak here. Our reckoning is not over yet. After I kill T'Challa, you and the rest will be next."
T'Chaka maintained a composed expression as he looked at Erik, as though he had long foreseen his own fate.
"You cannot drag Wakanda into war. This is not what your father would have wanted."
"You have no right to mention him!"
Erik suddenly erupted. He seized T'Chaka by the collar and yanked him forward.
"Carry out the orders. Anyone who says one more word dies."
With that, Erik released T'Chaka and strode out of the hall without looking back, W'Kabi following closely behind.
"Your Majesty, are you all right?"
Okoye and the elders hurried forward to check on T'Chaka.
"I'm fine,"
T'Chaka murmured, staring in the direction Erik had departed.
"Wakanda is about to fall into darkness."
---
High in the mountains, everyone gathered once again inside M'Baku's great hall. Nakia had returned with the latest intelligence.
"After becoming king, Erik has secured the support of the army,"
Nakia reported as she stood beside T'Challa.
"W'Kabi has brought the Border Tribe fully under his command."
She paused, then continued gravely.
"More importantly, all the Heart-Shaped Herbs have been burned. Only the dozen or so fruits we have left remain."
As she spoke, she looked toward Lucas. Tony turned his gaze to him as well.
"How did you know Erik would destroy the Heart-Shaped Herbs?"
Nakia asked in confusion.
"If it weren't for your foresight, the herbs would've been completely wiped out."
"Don't ask,"
Lucas replied calmly.
"Just call it… magical intuition."
He then took a black necklace from his system pack and tossed it to T'Challa.
"You'll need this now. The gold one is probably already hanging around Erik's neck."
The gold necklace was the flashier Golden Jaguar suit.
T'Challa accepted the necklace and placed it around his neck. With the Black Panther suit once more at his disposal, he finally had a weapon capable of fighting back.
Nearby, M'Baku looked as though he were about to fall asleep. Strategy and discussion had never been his forte—he preferred direct action.
"Are you people done yet?"
he said, propping his chin on his hand.
"I'm about to doze off."
"T'Challa,"
Lucas said,
"perhaps you should speak with M'Baku alone."
T'Challa nodded. All others, including the guards, withdrew, leaving only the two of them.
After the hall emptied, T'Challa spoke.
"Thank you, M'Baku. I must return to stop Erik. You know that your tribe is also part of Wakanda."
M'Baku understood his meaning immediately and rejected it outright.
"I will not have the Jabari people die for your personal struggle."
"But this concerns all of Wakanda."
"Us?"
M'Baku scoffed, rising to his feet.
"You say 'us'? You are the first king in centuries to step foot in our land. Past kings never even acknowledged our tribe—some even excluded us from sacred ceremonies. And now you speak of 'us'?"
He stepped closer, towering over T'Challa, his presence imposing.
"You're right,"
T'Challa said steadily.
"I cannot speak for past kings. But now Wakanda is ruled by a madman. You and I both know what vibranium represents. If Erik gains total control over it, what do you think will happen to your tribe?"
M'Baku frowned and turned toward the cliff behind him, gazing into the rolling clouds below.
"I said we will not help you."
With that, he dismissed T'Challa and said no more.
---
Elsewhere, Erik was accelerating the production and packaging of vibranium. Crates upon crates were stacked across the landing platform, with dozens of aircraft waiting to depart.
Everyone worked frantically, loading vibranium onto the ships.
Okoye followed closely behind Erik, her expression rigid. As captain of the guard, she had no choice.
"Have all the agents overseas been notified?"
Erik asked W'Kabi.
W'Kabi wore the Border Tribe's vibranium-woven mantle, capable of storing vast energy and deploying a protective shield.
"They've all been informed,"
he replied.
"Some agents oppose the new orders, but those in key cities are ready."
Erik nodded.
"Then we start with those locations. The rest will eventually abandon their outdated thinking."
He picked up a spear glowing with blue energy, its blade gleaming in the sunlight.
"Weapons that even metal detectors cannot detect. Thousands of these supersonic energy spears exist. The world will finally understand our true power—and kneel before it."
He looked up as one of the aircraft lifted off.
But it had barely traveled a hundred meters when it suddenly exploded, shattering midair.
Erik rushed to the edge of the platform. Amid the flames, a black figure leapt onto the wreckage—agile as a panther.
It was T'Challa, clad once more in the Black Panther suit, standing within the inferno like a reborn king.
Everyone saw T'Challa's return. Aside from Erik and W'Kabi, the crowd erupted in cheers, welcoming their true king.
"Erik!"
T'Challa's voice thundered as he advanced.
"So you've recovered,"
Erik said, walking forward as well.
"I've been waiting for this moment."
Two kings of Wakanda.
Two Black Panthers.
Their final confrontation was inevitable.
"Continue the launches,"
Erik ordered coldly.
"The mission proceeds."
The royal guards hesitated, but the Border Tribe obeyed without question. Crates were loaded, and the aircraft took off like swarming bees.
"W'Kabi,"
Erik said, watching the ships rise,
"stop T'Challa."
"W'Kabi! You dare?!"
Okoye shouted, her spear leveled at him.
W'Kabi glanced at her, then resolutely raised his curved blade.
"Border Tribe—charge!"
At his command, W'Kabi rushed toward T'Challa, the warriors of the Border Tribe surging forward behind him.
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