"Not sure if I need earplugs right about now," Matt Murdock muttered, wincing at the cacophony erupting from the Senate floor below.
"What's with everyone shouting at once?" Natasha asked, her trained eyes scanning the chaotic scene.
"That's putting it mildly," Matt replied, his enhanced hearing making the overlapping voices almost painful to endure.
"Why are they all arguing like this?" Pietro wondered, gesturing toward where Riyo Chuchi stood with her delegation, their animated discussion clearly visible even from the observation gallery.
"That's politics for you, Pietro," Sam said from where he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "It's never simple."
"Given what just happened, everyone's calling for immediate action," Natasha observed. "Things could spiral out of control fast."
The four Avengers watched the proceedings from their vantage point. Hope was still helping Scott recover from his brutal encounter with Ultron's massive form, while Peter was somewhere in the city assisting with relief efforts. FRIDAY had recently informed them that Spider-Man was heading back to the Jedi Temple with the Wakandan prince who'd arrived in this galaxy alongside him and Matt.
"Right now, our focus must be on helping those affected on Coruscant and the other worlds that were attacked," Padmé Amidala's clear voice cut through the din, commanding attention from both senators and observers alike. "The last thing we need is to rush into military action in the aftermath of something like this."
"This is precisely the time for military action!" the Kaminoan representative declared, his elongated form trembling with excitement.
"Military action with what forces?" Padmé shot back with equal fervor. "In case you haven't noticed, our fleets are severely damaged. It will take months to repair our losses and reconstitute our strength."
"Senator Amidala is absolutely right," Bail Organa interjected, his calm voice a stark contrast to the heated exchanges around him. "Our immediate priority should be humanitarian aid to Republic citizens, not charging blindly into another battle. Haven't we seen enough death already?"
The Senate hall erupted into fresh arguments, with every political faction shouting their position from across the circular chamber.
Matt visibly flinched at the assault on his senses. After a moment, his helmet materialized around his head, the suit's systems filtering and dampening the overwhelming noise.
"That's much better," the lawyer sighed in relief.
"Want to get out of here, Matt?" Sam asked with concern.
"No, I'm good now. We should stay."
"SILENCE!" Palpatine's voice boomed across the chamber, cutting through the chaos. "We do not need any more division among us than we already face."
"Yeah, good luck with that," Sam muttered under his breath.
"There you are."
The group turned to find Anakin Skywalker approaching them, his Jedi robes swirling as he navigated between the observation seats.
"Sky Guy," Natasha said casually, earning an amused snort from the young Jedi.
"If anyone deserves that nickname, it's the bird man over there," Anakin replied, giving Sam a playful thumbs-up.
"Touché," Sam admitted with a grin.
"What's the word, Anakin?" Pietro asked.
"Just got confirmation that Obi-Wan, Aayla, Steve, and Rhodes are back on-planet," Anakin reported.
"About time," Natasha murmured. "We've got a lot to discuss."
The group filed out of the Senate chamber as fresh shouting erupted behind them, making their way through the long corridors toward a reunion with their returning teammates.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Senate building, two other heroes walked together through the marble-lined hallways.
"So what's this planet Kashyyyk like?" Peter asked, his curiosity evident despite everything else weighing on his mind.
T'Challa considered the question for a moment. "Jungle. Lots and lots of jungle," the Wakandan prince said. "Trees as far as the eye can see, some tall enough to scrape the clouds."
"What about the Wookiees? What are they like?"
"Imagine a teddy bear," T'Challa said with the hint of a smile, "but eight feet tall and strong enough to pull a person's arms out of their sockets."
"Yikes. And these robots attacked their world too?"
"The same AI that the Avengers fought before—Ultron," Peter explained, his voice growing more serious.
T'Challa's expression darkened with recognition. "Sokovia, correct? I remember my father mentioning that incident. A massive amount of vibranium was used to lift an entire city into the sky."
"That's him," Peter confirmed grimly. "Turns out he's still alive, and somehow he ended up here. I don't know the full story of how that happened, but the others can fill you in."
"There's much that neither of us fully understands about our situation," T'Challa observed. "But finding ourselves here has been... enlightening, to say the least."
"Tell me about it," Peter laughed, though there was little humor in it. "I mean, after New York I knew aliens existed and all that..."
"But we never truly believed we'd be living among them one day," T'Challa finished, watching the various alien species that populated these corridors—Twi'leks, Rodians, beings whose names he didn't even know. "Tell me, have you made any progress on finding a way back to Earth?"
"I wish I could say yes," Peter replied with a frustrated sigh. "But we're basically shooting in the dark here. We don't even know how we got here in the first place. What do you remember?"
The Prince of Wakanda was quiet for a long moment, sifting through his memories.
"You, Matt, and I were closing in on Klaue, Brock Rumlow, and that mercenary with the mechanical wings," T'Challa said slowly, the scene playing out in his mind. "Then there was this blinding light, and the next thing I knew, we were scattered across a war-torn galaxy."
"I'm not as versed in theoretical science as my sister," T'Challa continued, "but if I had to guess... it was some kind of portal, a tear in the fabric of space-time itself."
"Like what happened in New York three years ago?" Peter asked.
T'Challa nodded. "After that incident, the entire world changed overnight. Things many believed impossible suddenly became everyday reality."
"Getting pretty philosophical there, Your Highness," Peter teased, earning a genuine laugh from the prince.
"Perhaps," T'Challa admitted, but then his mood grew somber. "I just worry about my family, my people. In my absence, who will protect Wakanda?"
Peter's expression softened with understanding. The weight of responsibility, of people depending on you—it was something he knew all too well.
"I get it, man," Peter said quietly. "I've got New York, my Aunt May... I know exactly how you feel."
"When my father could no longer bear the mantle, I became the Black Panther," T'Challa continued, his voice heavy with concern. "I left them vulnerable, and I don't know if Shuri is ready for such responsibility."
"Isn't it kind of a family thing, though? The Black Panther role?"
"You could understand it that way, yes."
"So Shuri would be next in line?"
"In theory," T'Challa said with a slight frown. "Though she's always been more interested in her technology than in combat training."
"I see."
Given the physical prowess and warrior skills he'd witnessed T'Challa display, Peter could only hope that Shuri would step up to the challenge—or perhaps find her own unique way to protect their homeland until they could return. If they could return.