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A deafening explosion tore through the skies.
The Wakandan aircraft shielded by high-tech energy fields managed to hold, but Iron Man's suits weren't so lucky. His drones, designed to intercept the nukes, were reduced to blazing fireworks against the clouds.
Tony hadn't anticipated this.
These Sentinels were completely immune to his e-virus.
He had loaded his suits only with what was essential for nuke redirection: anti-Sentinel modules, kinetic blasters, and precision lasers. No redundancy.
Now, all of it was gone.
"Damn it!"
Tony growled. How had they neutralized the virus?
But there was no time to dwell on it another wave of Sentinels was surging forward, whipping up gale-force winds aimed at the Avengers and Wakandan air force.
T'Challa fought for stability inside his fighter, sweat beading on his brow.
This wasn't about the Sentinels anymore.
They were here to stop the nukes, and the nukes… were almost at the border.
From orbit, Friday's satellite feed confirmed it: multiple tactical nuclear warheads had already entered East African airspace.
They were running out of time.
Inside his jet, T'Challa closed his eyes, whispering under his breath:
"Bast… will you truly abandon your people?"
The last time he had seen her, Bast, the Panther Goddess, was during the heart-shaped herb ritual. She had granted him strength… and purpose.
Now Wakanda was on the brink of annihilation.
And only she could intervene.
One by one, the missiles approached. Flaming tails blazing, they streaked toward the Wakandan shield wall like meteors of doom.
In the U.S. command center, General Ross watched with barely concealed glee.
Finally.
Wakanda would fall. And with it, control of the world's most precious resource vibranium.
Gold? Obsolete. Oil? Worthless. Vibranium was the real currency of power. Its strength, adaptability, and fusion potential made it priceless.
Ross's grin widened.
Beside him, Klaue remained silent. He knew something Ross didn't.
Nolan had warned him: Wakanda could not be destroyed not as long as Bast was watching.
And Klaue now realized… how little he understood Wakanda.
"That goddess won't intervene unless Wakanda faces true extinction," Nolan had told him.
"And even then… don't expect her to be all-powerful. She didn't show up when Thanos attacked, did she?"
Back in Wakanda, Plan B had activated. Unable to redirect the nukes, the nation's defense grid switched to forced detonation. Better to explode the missiles midair than allow impact.
Pollution could be managed later. Survival came first.
But then everything stopped.
A strange pressure filled the skies.
The missiles, still in mid-flight, froze.
Hovering aircraft shimmered into visibility, and from one of them descended a lone figure.
Erik Lehnsherr.
Magneto.
Tony exhaled in relief.
"Thank God…"
Magneto could manipulate metal like a conductor manipulates sound. If anyone could redirect those nukes, it was him.
Ross, watching from command, sneered.
"You think I didn't plan for you?"
He had anticipated mutant involvement.
These nukes had non-metallic trigger systems built specifically to avoid Magneto's control.
BOOM!
In an instant, every suspended missile detonated mid-air.
The sun was born in the sky.
An inferno roared outward.
Magneto's control shattered as the force ripped through the clouds.
And then…
A shadow appeared walking on air.
A gigantic panther, shimmering with obsidian and rainbow hues, emerged in the sky. It moved with predatory grace, gliding above the fireball.
Then it began to transform.
Limbs lengthened.
Fur melted into armor.
The panther became a woman tall, regal, her skin dark as the night, her armor forged of black and gold vibranium. Her helm bore the image of a panther, eyes glowing with divine power.
Bast.
The Panther Goddess.
T'Challa stared up, warmth washing over him.
"My goddess…"
He had only seen her once, in visions never in the real world.
Now, she stood between Wakanda and nuclear fire.
"Mortals," Bast's voice echoed like thunder across the battlefield. "This land is under my protection. Leave… now."
With a graceful motion of her hand, the searing fireball above was swallowed by a panther-shaped energy field, devoured as if it had never existed.
To beings like Bast, such weapons were toys.
---
In the command center, Ross froze.
"What the hell was that?"
He turned to the reactor analyst.
"Give me a readout—NOW!"
The technician stammered. "The reactor's measuring off the charts level seven… full seven-star rating on Nolan's dimensional scale!"
Ross felt his stomach drop.
That wasn't just a god-tier mutant.
That was a being beyond military classification.
"Find out what that is—ask Klaue!"
Klaue answered calmly, eyes still fixed on the monitor:
"That… is Bast. Wakanda's guardian deity."
"A god?" Ross spat, dumbfounded. "Like Thor?"
Klaue smiled faintly. "Exactly."
Ross felt the reality sink in.
They weren't just facing tech, or vibranium, or mutants anymore.
They were facing divinity.
And the U.S. military… had no weapon for gods.
---
Author's Note:
In the comics, Bast's power levels have fluctuated wildly. For this adaptation, she is presented as a pantheon-level guardian equivalent to Skyfather tier within Wakanda's borders, but less powerful outside them.
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