The message arrived Tuesday morning via an unfamiliar channel—not one of Ethan's usual lines, but a direct contact from someone new. He read it in the kitchen, sipping his coffee, while the others gathered.
The message was clear and precise, leaving no room for misunderstanding. Wakanda, home of Black Panther T'Challa, had tracked Ethan Cole since his actions in the Savage Land months ago. Their monitoring prompted this direct reach out. T'Challa invited Ethan and his household to visit Wakanda at their convenience. The invitation was genuine, with no hidden strings.
Ethan read it twice.
Ethan wasn't surprised. T'Challa was the kind who watched, judged well, and acted. Ethan recognized that behavior, having done the same.
Ethan brought the message to the table and explained who sent it. He told them about Wakanda—hidden, Vibranium-rich, the world's most advanced civilization—and described T'Challa as king and Black Panther, powerful and principled. He used his father's story, matching their cover.
Raven set down her cup, eyes echoing old legends. She'd lived long enough to know Wakanda's whispered truths—history raw and potent beneath rumor. The invitation felt momentous; she met it with the gravity she reserved for matters of destiny-shaping. For a moment, the room crackled.
Jean's questions steadied the group, but Ethan saw a mix of curiosity and concern. What did T'Challa's invitation mean? What did Wakanda risk or offer by opening its doors? She wanted answers, needing to protect her family from uncertainty.
Rogue, breaking the thoughtful mood, simply asked if they were going. She met the invitation head-on, signaling openness and impatience to act. Her direct question shifted the group's energy toward decision-making and action.
Ilyana glanced toward where Africa would be, already planning their journey.
Amora asked if she should study Wakandan sorcery before arrival. The group exchanged uncertain glances, unsure how to answer her practical question.
Thori looked at everyone, one by one, reading their faces with a dog's directness and a warrior's intuition. His silent patience reflected acceptance, waiting to see what the group would decide before weighing in himself.
"We should go," he said. It sounded more like a statement of fact than a suggestion.
He was right.
The practical talk was brief—the answer was simple: everyone would go. Raven, Jean, Rogue, Ilyana, Amora, and Thori were in. Indominus stayed—Wakanda wasn't for a young T. rex, and someone needed to watch the house. He liked his greenhouse, routines, and favorite spot. Shu stayed too. Jean checked her telepathic link with the animals to ensure they'd be fine while away.
They packed little. Ethan traveled light, and the rest followed. Amora brought knowledge, Raven the sling ring, and Ilyana her stepping discs. The others brought themselves—that was enough.
Ethan accepted the invitation, then asked how to approach Wakanda's airspace. He could fly everyone, but wanted permission, not surprise. The reply came within an hour: approved coordinates, a timeframe, and a final line. Ethan read twice—Wakanda looks forward to receiving you.
Africa rose from the blue horizon as they crossed the Atlantic—first coastline, then the continent's vast interior. Its size dwarfed any map. Ethan kept everyone inside his biokinetic aura, shielding them from cold, wind, and flying pressure. Inside, they felt warm, sheltered. Six people, September air, traveling together high above the ocean, coast, forests, and highlands shaped by ancient weather and geography.
The approach coordinates led them over visible landscapes of mountains and dense forests—naturally beautiful, challenging, private.
And then the concealment failed.
They crossed into Wakanda's hidden area. The landscape changed instantly: empty forest and mountains became the Golden City, appearing all at once.
The Golden City against the September African sky.
Raven was impressed. She'd seen the world's wonders and rarely hid her reaction, but this amazed her.
Jean's senses stretched outward before her eyes finished taking in the city. She saw Wakanda with both eye and mind—a secret-thriving civilization shaped by trust and purpose. It was people's faith that shimmered in the air, deeply moving Jean. She blinked back emotion, realizing how rare it was to witness such unity.
Rogue said one word. The word was "damn," and it was the right word.
Ilyana studied the city's layout, noting connections, boundaries, and organization. She said nothing, just took it all in.
Amora examined the architecture with real interest. She'd seen many worlds and knew what made something special; the Golden City was truly unique. She said so. She also sensed Bast's presence, using her Asgardian sense for the divine, and found the Panther God's connection to Wakanda fascinating—a topic she wanted to explore more.
Thori inhaled.
"Smells like a good place," he said.
Thori's words carried weight. Simple, direct, sincere—he grinned, tail wagging, comfortable in a place that, even to him, felt like home for a moment.
T'Challa was at the landing coordinates in the Black Panther suit.
Wearing the suit was deliberate. Civilian clothes were welcoming, but they didn't show that he understood his visitors. The Black Panther suit said, 'I greet you as king and protector—and I know who you are.' T'Challa chose well.
T'Challa stood out. The Heart-Shaped Herb changed him—he moved with the confidence of someone long used to power. Calm, still, trained since childhood, he never doubted his role.
He looked at Ethan. Ethan looked at him.
T'Challa stepped forward first and said Ethan's name—no titles, just his name, the way someone confident in themselves greets an equal.
He thanked Ethan for coming. He told him that Wakanda rarely extended this invitation and never did so without full consideration of what it meant.
Ethan thanked him for the invitation. He told T'Challa he understood what it meant to be invited to Wakanda and that he would take it seriously. He said it plainly, not as flattery, but as one person speaking honestly to another.
Then T'Challa did the thing that established clearly what kind of intelligence operation Wakanda ran.
He moved through the group, greeting each by name.
T'Challa greeted Raven, recognizing her influence in international affairs. He spoke accurately, knowing the real history, not just public records. Raven listened, realizing he understood her and processing her reaction.
He greeted Jean, naming her Phoenix bond, showing Wakandan intelligence's unique knowledge. He said he was genuinely glad she was there.
Rogue greeted him, referencing her Savage Land rescue intervention. T'Challa knew the details.
He greeted Ilyana with respect, acknowledging Limbo as a real place and her role as leader. Ilyana's expression shifted; she was impressed.
Amora, he addressed as Enchantress of Asgard—an accurate title, showing complete intelligence.
At Thori, T'Challa paused, adjusting to an Asgardian hellhound in his formal receiving area. Then he greeted Thori with the same respect as everyone else.
Thori looked at him steadily.
"The city smells good," Thori told him.
T'Challa accepted the comment.
"We are glad to hear it," he said.
T'Challa led the tour himself—the king showed them his capital, moving with the ease of someone who had grown up, ruled, and knew every part personally.
Wakanda's technology shaped daily life—not in flashy ways, but woven into the fabric of life. Buildings served the people; the city's infrastructure was its foundation. Resources were used wisely.
Raven noticed the buildings fit the land rather than dominate it. Even after centuries, the natural terrain remained. She'd seen many cities, but here, progress didn't come at nature's cost.
Jean shifted her focus between the sights and what she sensed. The people truly trusted their institutions—honest trust, not forced. That trust gave the city a special feeling, rare anywhere else. It moved her; it showed what was possible.
Rogue paid attention to the city's infrastructure. She noticed how everything worked—the engineering, how power and water were managed, and how the city met the needs of so many people. She asked T'Challa a couple of questions about specific systems, and his answers were detailed and precise. She appreciated finding someone else who cared about engineering as much as she did.
Ilyana paid attention to the boundaries—where one district ended, and another began, how authority was spread out, and where the palace's influence showed up in the city's layout. She did this out of habit, as someone who had ruled her own domain and knew that the way power was arranged in a city said a lot about its leader.
Amora explored Wakanda with real curiosity—she found it even more interesting than she'd expected, which meant a lot for her. She could sense Bast's presence with her Asgardian awareness of gods—not loud or overwhelming, just quietly there, like a patron deity in a place that had belonged to them for ages. The bond between the Panther God and Wakanda was something she wanted to think about more, since it didn't fit any pattern she already knew.
Thori liked everything he saw. He walked beside Ethan, alert and curious, checking things out and finding them to his liking. Now and then, he'd comment on something—a new material, an interesting food smell, or a building that made sense to him—and he always kept his comments short. Overall, he was pleased, and it showed.
T'Challa had set up their accommodations inside the palace, giving them a space meant for a household instead of splitting them into separate rooms. His briefing had been thorough enough to realize they worked best as a group. Ethan noticed this right away and saw it as another sign of how good T'Challa's intelligence and planning were.
T'Challa joined them for dinner to get to know them as people. This wasn't about keeping things formal or distant.
Dinner conversations flowed naturally, as they do when interesting people gather. T'Challa paid attention to everyone and talked with each person about what mattered to them. He wasn't just playing the host—he was truly interested in his guests.
At one point, T'Challa asked Raven a question about a specific time in post-war European history, sparked by something she'd said during the tour—something his intelligence briefing hadn't prepared him for. She gave him a thoughtful look, the kind she used for people who surprised her, and then answered. Her response took 6 minutes and prompted 3 more questions. By the end, T'Challa had a new, more interesting idea of who Raven Darkhölme really was.
Later, Ethan lay awake in a room that was amazing by any standard he'd used before, but it still didn't feel right for sleeping because it wasn't his usual room. He wasn't complaining—it was just the feeling of being somewhere new before you get used to it.
He listened to the city outside. Wakanda's nighttime sounds were unique—different from Westchester's, just as every city sounds different at night when the daytime noise fades, and you can hear the real character of the place. He found the difference interesting, not unsettling.
He wondered what the next few days would bring.
T'Challa was clearly someone worth knowing—Ethan could tell that in just a few hours. The way he ran his intelligence, the care he put into the invitation and welcome, and the attention he gave each person all showed he was operating on a high level. T'Challa would probably want to talk about the Vibranium in the Savage Land, learn what he could about Ethan, and ask questions about the wider world that Wakanda was just starting to explore.
All of this was going to be truly interesting.
He realized this was what it looked like when the life he was building started to create the relationships he would need. Reed and Hank were working on transport theory. Kallark was handling communication with the Shi'ar. The Watcher's observations confirmed the path ahead. And now there was T'Challa and Wakanda—a civilization that had grown in secret and was just starting to see how big and strange the world really was.
He fell asleep in Wakanda, already looking forward to what was coming next—he'd seen enough to know when something truly interesting was about to happen.
Tomorrow was going to be a good day.