Chapter 7: Reactions from All Parties
S.H.I.E.L.D., Triskelion Headquarters.
Level 7 Agent Phil Coulson strode briskly toward the director's office, a tablet clutched tightly in his hand. Recently, he'd been granted temporary Level 8 clearance—and ever since then, his energy at work had doubled. He saw it as a sure sign of promotion… and, of course, a pay raise.
He knocked, then entered the office, where a bald, one-eyed man sat behind a desk, his eyepatch gleaming under the light. The man's dome was so polished that even a fly would slip off.
"Director Fury, we've got an emergency," Coulson said, handing over the tablet. "You need to see this."
On the screen played the chaotic footage of the 'Black and White War' unfolding live in San Francisco—the massive white beast tearing through protesters and police alike, and a towering black panther joining the slaughter moments later.
Nick Fury's single eye widened slightly. "Where is this?"
"San Francisco, sir," Coulson replied crisply. "Local police cam footage. Civilian broadcasts match the same feed."
When Fury saw the two creatures—an enormous white hound and a black panther, each clearly once human—he immediately sensed the pattern. "Are they enhanced individuals?"
"Yes, sir. The white one's confirmed as Jack Bryan, former SFPD officer. The black one, according to hospital records, is Will Fortson, Air Force pilot. Surveillance shows Fortson leaping from the hospital rooftop right before the transformation began. These are their detailed profiles."
Coulson tapped the screen, projecting both dossiers. Fury's brow furrowed. The dates lined up perfectly—Fortson's "death" had been a media circus just days earlier.
"Have the tech division analyze their combat metrics," Fury ordered. "I want strength, speed, kinetic durability—all of it."
"I already did, sir." Coulson grinned like a student showing off homework early. "This is the preliminary analysis."
"Efficient as always," Fury nodded. "Good work."
You see, Fury understood the art of leadership—always reward initiative. Whether he meant the praise or not didn't matter. Motivated agents worked faster.
"Based on impact footage," Coulson continued, "both subjects exceed peak human benchmarks by a wide margin. Speed, strength, endurance—all off the charts. They were both struck by vehicles moving over eighty miles per hour, with no visible injuries. Tissue resilience and muscle density suggest biological weaponization, possibly on the level of Captain Rogers."
Fury's tone hardened. "Get a Quinjet. I want them both—alive."
"It'll take hours from the East Coast," Coulson said quickly. "Sir, Fortson's Air Force ID means the military's already moving in. Why not let the L.A. branch handle retrieval?"
"No," Fury said flatly. "Not this one."
These weren't random mutants. Their transformations bore the same markers Fury had seen before—unstable bio-energetic resonance, demonic auras that scrambled scanners. If his instincts were right, this was the Shenlei Bureau's doing again—Lin Hao's fingerprints all over it.
The "white dog" and the "black panther" weren't isolated anomalies. They were test cases.
"The fish hasn't bitten yet?" Coulson asked cautiously. "You think the Shenlei Bureau's still operating in North America?"
Fury's expression darkened. "That's above your pay grade, Agent."
"But, sir, I've got Level 8 clearance now—"
Fury coughed deliberately, softening his tone. "Zheng Xian won't give up North America. Just like we'd never give up the Far East. The Spear Bureau will send someone new soon—someone to rebuild their network."
Coulson's eyes gleamed. "If I can capture that person, can I be made permanent Level 8?"
"Hah," Fury chuckled. "If you actually catch them, I'll make you Level 9 myself."
But deep down, Fury wasn't joking. Since taking office, he had clashed repeatedly with Zheng Xian, head of China's Shenlei Bureau, over control of global supernatural surveillance. Despite dismantling several of their American cells, Fury had never managed to catch the mastermind himself—or his most elusive agent, the one known only as Lin Hao.
And if his gut was right, Lin Hao wasn't just alive—he was testing his creations on U.S. soil.
"Deploy immediately," Fury said. "Take the Quinjet. And Coulson—get an African-American pilot. The optics will help if the press shows up. At least bring Bryan's body back for analysis."
---
Meanwhile, in Wakanda…
Far across the ocean, in a land shielded by vibranium cloaking and ancient faith, Wakanda's Royal Palace was in uproar.
"Father!"
Prince T'Challa and Princess Shuri burst into King T'Chaka's chamber, Shuri's Kimoyo Beads projecting live footage of the battle in San Francisco.
"Look at this!" Shuri exclaimed. "The black panther in the video—he's not one of ours. He's human, but his transformation and strength… they're close to your level after the Heart-Shaped Herb!"
T'Challa's brow furrowed. "Could the Panther God Bast have chosen a new avatar outside Wakanda?"
"Nonsense!" T'Chaka roared, slamming his fist on the table. "The Panther God protects Wakanda, not the outside world! That creature is a blasphemous imitation—some kind of foreign experiment!"
"But father, he—"
"Enough!" The King's glare silenced his son.
The implication alone was dangerous. The Black Panther mantle was more than a title—it was divine legitimacy. If the people of Wakanda learned that someone abroad could turn into a panther stronger than their king, their faith—and his authority—could collapse overnight.
The video showed a being who could transform at will, who possessed demonic strength without need of the sacred herb. Compared side-by-side, the people might wonder: who does Bast truly favor now?
If this "new panther" was declared chosen by the gods, rival tribes would seize the opportunity to challenge the royal family's rule. Worse, if Bast herself acknowledged him, T'Chaka's line would lose divine right entirely.
T'Chaka's complexion darkened like obsidian. "Shuri—purge every copy of this footage from our servers. Block all Wakandan access to this incident."
"Yes, father."
"And send word through the Shadow Council. No official force can be seen in this. Hire mercenaries through off-world channels. I don't care how—eliminate that leopard immediately."
For all his dignity, T'Chaka was a practical man. To preserve the throne, he would move quietly, even if it meant aligning with demons he didn't understand.
What he didn't know was that his target—Will Fortson, the Black Panther of San Francisco—was already a pawn of Lin Hao, the Demon King hidden within the shadows of the Marvel world.
And Lin Hao, watching through hellfire mirrors from the Ring Fortress, smiled faintly.
"Excellent," he murmured. "The Americans panic, Wakanda trembles, and the world begins to fracture. The more they fear, the stronger I become."
The game had only just begun.