Disclaimer - I don't own anything. As the corporations say these days, you will own nothing & be happy. I don't, and have never claimed to, own Marvel or Disney or any of its characters. With that out of the way, let's goooo!
London
–Damian Hawthorne–
He sighed as he stood back, the Wooden Casket, burnt, turned completely back due to the repeated lasers being blasted at it, floating in the middle of a forcefield, as he contemplated the events that led to this.
Despite being blasted with the lasers dozens of times, needing him to relocate 2-3 times before he gave up on that method, the Wooden Casket remained in one piece. Sure, it had multiple holes punched through it, most of it was withering away, and he was sure that if left like this, only the internal content would remain. But that did not solve his problem in any way.
The Horcrux inside kept the Wooden Casket protected, and while it had expended a lot of its energy in keeping its containment secure, it was still there. The Dark Magic, although weakened, still could be felt. Despite his best efforts, he could not simply vaporise the Horcrux away.
So, here he was, in his London hideout, in a sealed metal box hundreds of meters underground, with no possible way of entry aside from teleportation, and after today, not even that. Yup, he was going to seal this place from any teleportation attempts, on top of reinforcing the already pretty reinforced structure.
That would leave only one option to get to it. Digging through hundreds of meters of Earth and doing that would be pretty noticeable, no matter which angle they used to dig it. He'd realised that his knowledge regarding Horcruxes was pretty spotty. He knew they were a source of immortality, held a will of their own, could use magic in a limited sense, and needed extreme measures to be truly destroyed.
Well, he was out of extreme measures right now, and just chucking it into space did not seem like a good option, especially since this was also the Marvel Universe, where alien species had an inordinate amount of interest in Earth.
The chances of some unsuspecting alien getting their hands on this trinket and getting their minds taken over, due to no magical resistance, were not high but they were not zero either, which is why, burial it was.
He was sure that he was not going to find any mention of magic regarding Horcruxes in any publicly available book in the wizarding world, which left him Kamar Taj, which was a dead end until he graduated from Hogwarts, which was still at least 3-4 years away.
If things went his way all the time, then he could have completed his OWLs and NEWTs within just 1 or 2 years of joining Hogwarts, but since that would require getting multiple recommendations from people who quite literally worshipped Dumbledore, he was not too hopeful about that.
Hence, his realistic timeline of 4 years, which was also iffy at best, if he did not do something drastic to force their hands. Conversely, he could also just remain under the radar, and just quietly pay off any Ministry official to get things done, which seemed like the optimal option, if not for the fact that one had to register for the exams well over a year ago, which would alert Dumbledore.
The only way the fact that there was a genius wizard in his school could slip under the radar would be if Dumbledore and, by extension, the entire administration's attention was taken up by someone else.
Someone who will outshine everyone at Hogwarts simply by virtue of being born to Lily Potter and James Potter.
He smiled as he turned around, and apparated from the spot, knowing that the wards would lock down within seconds of not detecting a human inside the box that he hoped would be the coffin of that damned Horcrux. It would be best if that vile artifact died because it had no ambient magic to siphon, since the wards made sure to create a magically deficient environment.
Outright magical vacuum was impossible so far, but creating a deficient environment was well within his capabilities and after seeing how much magic that ugly ring had expended to keep its housing intact.
___xx___
King's office, Wakanda
–T'Chaka–
"Frustratingly, there has been very little I can do to trace the suspect. I cannot track his home, his base of operations, or who he meets. I can only track places he has recently been to, with only hours between him leaving and me arriving. Even so," Kato sighed, his face showing a rare helplessness that was a direct result of the Day the sky turned Purple in Birnin Zana.
He sighed, rubbing his forehead in an attempt to alleviate the headache he could feel coming, "That's alright, Headmaster. I know you did all you could. Coming back to stay with the students and meet the parents was the right call. If possible, convey my condolences as well," He noted the tightening around the man's eyes, as he continued, "and please, if Uagadou needs anything, do not hesitate to ask. It's the least I can do."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," He winced as Kato hung up the call, the myriad consequences of that day coming back to haunt him once more. Kato had never been the most subservient to Wakanda's interests, but that was fine, because that was not expected of him. He had left on good terms, willingly, atleast on paper. Unofficially, he was the second strongest member of the Magic Tribe, and aside from ordering a full assault with multiple Tribes coordinating to bring him down, there was nothing his father could have done but give him the King's blessings.
That was how Kato entered the magical world, surpassing everyone and becoming the most powerful known wizard of Africa, heading the biggest school in the world, with dozens of exceptionally talented wizards, personally groomed, under his command.
And that same Kato was now angry at Wakanda, rightfully so. After all, he would now have to deal with the fallout of dozens of children dead, at a place he could not name, by a weapon he could not name, at the hands of an enemy they could not name.
It was probably why the man had been so zealous in going overseas, in a bid to at least have some information he could give to the grieving parents. He failed in that, and so, now he had nothing but apologies to give to the parents currently storming his school.
Doomed if you, Doomed if you don't. It was no surprise the man would snub him right now, especially with the multitude of fires he had to solve internally before Wakanda was in any position to focus on external matters. Already, he had recalled two-thirds of all active WarDogs from their assignment back to the Kingdom. They needed to stabilise the internal situation before anything else.
"Shall I have him removed, My King?" He slumped in his seat, not even having the energy to glare at Imara, his steadfast but sometimes overzealous General of the Dora Milaje. He could understand where she was coming from, he really could, since this was one of the standard protocols Wakanda had in place to assume control of assets that were led by people who could prove to be non cooperative to Wakanda.
The recent loss of half of the Dora Milaje certainly did not help cool the tempers. Even so…
"Are you mad, General?" He asked in a soft voice as his words made Imara stiffen up, hands tightening around her spear as he continued, "Kato is not some scientist, or CEO, or Explorer, or Historian, you can just disappear without consequences. He is the backbone of Uagadou in the magical community. If something were to happen to him, especially after the weakening of the Magic Tribe, we could find ourselves dealing with a hostile Uagadou. All of that is after the question of how is answered."
His chair swivelled, one eye pinning Imara in place, as the headache came roaring in all its intensity, "How do you plan on defeating the second most powerful member of the Magic Tribe, when our entire country's defenses were just brought down in a single Trojan attack. I can tell you right now, that I certainly cannot deal with him, not while he sits in Uagadou, in that fortress of his, protected and out of our reach."
Imara mistook his silence as a chance to explain herself, "M-My King, the Dora Milaje–"
"Will do nothing," He spoke with a sense of finality, turning around to look back at the screens, "You have served me well over the years, Imara. It is time you retired. Start training your replacement. I hear that girl Okoye is an excellent fit."
It pained him to do this, but if there was one thing that this attack had taught him, on top of filling him with a renewed sense of revenge, was that the current way of decision making in Wakanda had to change.
But that change? Loathe as he was to admit it, would not come from him-could not come from him. No, it would have to come from the next generation, because even now, his mind whispered dark thoughts to him. Of ordering Kato to go back, to hunt down any and all suspects, to use any and all magic, dark or otherwise, to find the people who tortured his brother, who broke his brother's well deserved rest, all so he would be forced to kill his family once more.
No, it couldn't be him. He was too emotionally invested in this, he could tell that much. He had to give away the reins of the kingdom before he made a mistake that could cost them far more than they lost recently.
He sighed as the door finally closed, leaving him alone in his office to stew in his failures. Many, many failures that led to this day.
He just hoped that his current failures would not go on to haunt T'Challa. That would mean he was an absolute failure of both a King and a Father, and he would have no face to show to his Ancestors in the Ancestral Plane.
If you would like to support me, read ahead(12 chapters rn) on this & other stories, commission more stuff like this, or vote in Snippet Polls, you can head on to my P*treon.