The audience erupted in sustained applause for T'Challa's demonstration. Throughout viewing venues across the city and around the world, people of African descent celebrated seeing themselves represented in this new superhero initiative. T'Challa's name echoed through bars and living rooms, carried on voices thick with pride and excitement.
Ivan leaned toward his microphone, his analytical mind already processing what he'd observed. "With your power level, you're already a formidable enhanced individual. Your combat capability significantly exceeds the previous candidate, Daredevil."
He paused deliberately before continuing. "Especially that battle suit. From my understanding, it should be constructed from vibranium."
T'Challa had known this question was inevitable. Ivan's persistent interest in vibranium was well-documented after the Dragon Ball tournament. No point in evasion or deflection—better to acknowledge the obvious and move forward.
"That's correct," T'Challa confirmed, his tone carrying appropriate gravity. "This Black Panther suit has been passed down through generations of Wakandan protectors. It's made from vibranium and has considerable historical significance."
Tony's voice dripped with amusement. "So you're fighting crime in an antique?"
T'Challa allowed himself a slight smile at the characterization. "That's not an inaccurate assessment. The primary reason we haven't constructed a new suit is that Wakanda's vibranium reserves were stolen by a despicable thief, leaving us without materials for replacement equipment."
In a safehouse across the city, Ulysses Klaue sprayed his drink across the table, choking on liquid and outrage simultaneously. "Liar!" he shouted at the television screen, knowing no one could hear him. "Wakanda's vibranium is piled up like mountains! What I took was a drop in the bucket!"
His angry curses went unheard by the venue's participants. Ivan continued his line of questioning, undeterred by T'Challa's explanation.
"If you had the opportunity to encounter Ulysses Klaue again, what would you do?"
T'Challa's expression hardened, his voice losing its diplomatic warmth. "I would kill him and bring his body back to Wakanda to honor my people who died because of his actions."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "The previous candidate held different views. He would argue that theft shouldn't merit a death sentence."
"Ulysses Klaue's crimes extended far beyond theft," T'Challa replied, his tone carrying the weight of personal loss. "He detonated explosives in Wakanda, killing many of my people. Among the dead was our former Minister of Defense—a man who dedicated his life to protecting our nation."
The audience absorbed this information with grim understanding. In American context, such actions constituted terrorism. The parallel to major attacks on civilian populations was unmistakable. No one in the venue questioned T'Challa's stated intention.
Smith leaned forward, his voice cutting through the settling murmurs. "Tell us about your views on superheroes in general. Your philosophy, and your plans if you're selected for this team."
T'Challa straightened, recognizing the critical nature of this question. Smith Doyle's approval carried more weight than the other two judges combined. This man could influence global events, shape public perception of enhanced individuals, and either facilitate or obstruct T'Challa's broader goals for Wakanda's international positioning.
"Regarding the superhero community," T'Challa began, choosing his words with diplomatic precision, "I believe their existence symbolizes humanity's capacity for selfless courage and protection of the vulnerable."
He gestured toward the judges, including them in his statement. "They are individuals who fight for ideals rather than profit—making the world function better, ensuring people's safety more effectively. They combat criminals on the front lines without expectation of compensation."
T'Challa's voice grew more passionate as he continued. "Even before this superhero team concept was proposed, heroes received no allowances or salaries. Some, like the three of you, even funded initiatives like superhero property damage insurance from personal resources. That level of selfless dedication deserves recognition at the highest levels—I believe the three of you merit consideration for the United Nations Peace Medal!"
Smith felt genuine surprise at the flattery's delivery. The young prince was skilled at verbal maneuvering—acknowledging accomplishments while simultaneously suggesting greater recognition should follow. Well played.
Tony nodded with obvious approval. He and Smith had already received American medals, and the prospect of United Nations recognition held definite appeal. Even Ivan looked satisfied with the acknowledgment.
In the audience, Shuri watched her brother with raised eyebrows, wondering when T'Challa had developed such refined diplomatic flattery skills.
"When it comes to combating criminals," T'Challa continued, building momentum, "I've always believed superhero intervention is both necessary and indispensable. Heroes fill gaps that conventional law enforcement cannot address. Their mobility allows them to arrive at crime scenes rapidly, preventing harm before it escalates."
His expression grew more serious. "When dealing with truly evil criminals, we should strike with overwhelming force—destroy them completely without hesitation or mercy. This approach serves multiple purposes: it eliminates immediate threats, it deters future criminal activity through demonstrated consequences, and it better protects ordinary citizens from harm."
T'Challa paused, letting the philosophy settle before adding context. "It is a simple calculation. The needs of the many outweigh the life of one villain. To end a threat is not murder, it is mercy for the innocent."
He placed his hand over his heart in a gesture of sincerity. "If I'm fortunate enough to join this superhero team, I will devote myself completely to the cause of eliminating evil and promoting justice. I will work tirelessly to fight criminals and create a safer environment for the general public."
Smith listened to the carefully crafted response with appropriate skepticism. T'Challa was saying what the judges wanted to hear, but the vibranium fabrication proved he was comfortable with strategic deception when it served his interests. Not necessarily disqualifying—every leader needed the capacity for diplomatic misdirection—but worth noting.
"The information provided indicates you're the Crown Prince of Wakanda," Smith said, shifting to practical concerns. "If circumstances require you to inherit the throne and govern your nation, how would you balance that responsibility with superhero team obligations?"
T'Challa smiled, having prepared for exactly this question. "My father remains in excellent health and will likely govern for many years to come. The question of succession won't require immediate consideration."
He spread his hands in a modest gesture. "Additionally, Wakanda is a small, developing agricultural nation in Africa. Our governmental affairs are relatively straightforward. I'm confident I could balance both responsibilities effectively if the situation ever arose."
Smith kept his expression neutral, but internally he found the characterization amusing. Wakanda was arguably the world's wealthiest nation thanks to its vibranium reserves—they just chose to hide that wealth behind a facade of poverty. The deception was understandable from a security perspective, though Smith personally didn't care about vibranium. Bulma's modifications to the Destroyer armor had produced equipment several levels superior to vibranium, without the weakness to sonic disruption.
Smith nodded acknowledgment of T'Challa's answer, then turned to his fellow judges. "Tony, Ivan, make your decision. Should Black Panther T'Challa advance or be eliminated?"
Tony and Ivan glanced at Smith, noting he hadn't immediately pressed a button. They exchanged brief eye contact, conducting silent consultation, then both pressed the green advancement buttons on their panels.
Two green lights illuminated beneath their positions. T'Challa had secured majority approval already, but the third vote still mattered symbolically.
Smith considered T'Challa's performance comprehensively. The young prince was competent, genuinely heroic despite his diplomatic evasions, and possessed both enhanced capabilities and advanced equipment. His philosophy aligned with practical necessity rather than idealistic restraint. Most importantly, he seemed genuinely committed to protecting innocents rather than pursuing personal glory.
Smith pressed the green advancement button. Three green lights glowed in sequence.
"All three votes pass," the Announcer declared, his voice carrying congratulations. "Black Panther T'Challa advances to The Paragons!"
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