T'Challa was dead.
Technically speaking, he had killed himself.
His own vibranium claw pierced his mask, slipping into his skull as easily as a knife into tofu.
In that instant, all the fury, all the unwillingness, vanished with his life.
Thud.
When Hawk released his grip, T'Challa's body crumpled to the ground, a lifeless black panther sprawled in the dust.
Hawk's eyes stayed calm as he regarded the corpse.
Was T'Challa wrong to seek revenge?
No.
Was Hawk wrong to strike back?
No.
But T'Challa's mistake was simple—revenge without the strength to succeed is suicide.
Hawk knew this well.
Back when Abomination and Hulk battled, their clash killed his sister Anya. Hawk had wanted nothing more than to rip them apart with his bare hands.
But wanting is one thing, reality another.
Had he rushed in then, there was only one outcome: being torn to pieces.
Weakness is the original sin.
That is the law.
In this Marvel world, whether on Earth or across the cosmos, the rule is the same—survival of the fittest.
If you're not at the table, you're on the menu.
It's that simple.
So Hawk felt no guilt killing T'Challa. No regret. No apology for seizing Wakanda's vibranium.
He only ever wanted to be the diner, not the dish.
No grudges. No right or wrong.
Just as he'd told T'Challa moments ago:
Destroying you has nothing to do with you.
So—
He glanced one last time at the corpse, then turned his gaze to the last intact palace.
Raising his fist, he struck. The palace collapsed in a roar of rubble and dust.
He had said it: from this day forth, Wakanda would cease to exist.
And he meant it.
Now, only T'Challa's body remained—and perhaps scraps of vibranium buried under the ash: teeth, rings, weapons.
And of course…
The sacred vibranium mountain.
Though whether it would still be called that was another matter. The UN Security Council would likely rename it, and the site itself would become a forbidden zone—an international military exclusion zone overseen by the Five Good Men.
But looking further ahead, their permanent presence here might bring a strange kind of peace across Africa, enforced by cannon fire.
From that perspective, Hawk mused, perhaps he had done a good deed.
As the palace collapsed, he turned to leave—
Then paused.
His sharpened senses tugged at him. He looked back, focusing on the ruins.
In the blink of an eye, Hawk appeared amid the rubble, telekinesis lifting several strange blue spheres into the air.
They gleamed like the sea. No—within them was the sea.
Hawk raised a brow. He seized one, tossed it lightly, then blasted it apart with an Eye Strike.
Crash!
Water burst out under massive pressure, cutting through everything in its range like blades.
"Well, well."
"So Wakanda had toys like this? Didn't see those in the movie."
His eyes lit up with amusement as he studied the remaining three aqua bombs.
Meanwhile—
In the safety zone, Maria Hill dispatched a S.H.I.E.L.D. team back into the ruins.
What they found was a wasteland, blanketed in ash.
Forests gone.
Rivers dry.
Vibranium glinting beneath the pale dust.
One agent stooped, pulling a vibranium tooth from the ground. Startled, he handed it to Hill.
Her brows knit, confusion flashing to realization. Her gaze swept the white expanse, then fixed on Hawk's silhouette standing before the ruins.
The team's boots left neat prints in the ash as they reached the shattered palace.
There they found T'Challa's corpse, pale against the white.
"Ma'am!"
"…Bury him properly."
"Yes."
Two agents moved quickly, hefting the body between them. They knew well enough what this ash was, and it chilled them as they carried him away.
Hill pressed forward alone, as before, until she reached Hawk's side.
He glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "No need for thanks. If you really want to thank me, just tell me where I can get cloning done."
Hill smiled back. "Cloning is second only to organ research in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s black files. But no—we don't have clone tech for you."
Hawk studied her.
"I believe you."
"Thank you."
Hill nodded. "Sharon reported already. I've authorized her to meet Dr. Merrick—he nearly caused a crisis with cloning research a few years back."
"Oh? He can clone?"
"More than that." Hill chuckled. "He was running the project under our noses. He even had working results. If we hadn't caught it, society would already be swarming with clones."
Hawk's eyes lit up. "So—"
"Yes. You can meet him," Hill cut in. "But only with Sharon present. And the research must be under S.H.I.E.L.D. supervision."
"No problem," Hawk said without hesitation.
He had no darker motive. All he wanted was a new body for his sister.
Supervision meant nothing.
Hill exhaled softly. Merrick was a madman, meant to stay buried forever. He'd even stolen samples from countless agents—even Natasha.
But Hawk's acceptance of oversight eased her mind.
"Thank you for understanding."
Hawk laughed. "You're giving me your people, your lab, your gear—to fix my problem. If Merrick gives me what I want, I'll owe you a favor."
"Then I hope you get what you seek."
"Thanks." Hawk said seriously, then turned away. "I'm leaving."
"Safe travels."
He vanished.
Moments later, high in the sky, ready to return home, Hawk paused again.
His gaze fell toward the UN base near the Hell Gate.
A thought sparked—
He disappeared once more.
Inside the command tent, Alexander Pierce was briefing the other four Council directors over holo-link.
"What do you mean Wakanda's gone?"
"Define 'gone.'"
"I mean gone in the physical sense."
"…"
The four directors fell silent.
Just as Pierce drew breath to continue, his eyes caught movement—
Hawk appeared before him.
Pierce's eyelid twitched. He calmly pressed a button, cutting the link.
…
(End of Chapter)
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