Months Earlier
Boston, Massachusetts
It had been a few days into Ben's journey East from Las Vegas. Taking a break, Ben was enjoying a meal at a restaurant called Manok Andok. The quiet atmosphere was suddenly interrupted.
"Roxie!" the maître d' called out sharply.
The female server, a young woman with a worried expression, walked over to him. "Yes, Vincent?"
"What was that just now?" Vincent demanded, his eyes narrowing.
Roxie blinked, clearly confused. "Pardon?"
"You were collecting the bill, and all you got was a slip of paper. We don't have gift certificates."
Roxie looked down at her hand and saw a strip of newspaper instead of the hundred-dollar bill she thought she'd collected. "But... I thought it was..."
"Well, it obviously wasn't. Roxie, now get back to work while I take care of this."
As the situation unfolded, Ben noticed a brunette rising from her table, trying to inconspicuously make her way to the exit. Unfortunately for her, security was stationed at the door. She hovered nervously near his table, clearly anxious.
Vincent approached the woman. "Excuse me, Miss, can you please explain why you handed your server a strip of newspaper?"
The brunette clutched her left arm. "Uh..."
Vincent's shoulders sagged in exasperation. "Are you able to pay for your meal?"
"I don't..."
Vincent's expression hardened. "You know, I ought to call the police."
The woman's eyes widened in fear. "Please, don't!"
Ben decided it was time to step in. "Excuse me, sir."
Vincent turned to Ben, raising an eyebrow. "Hmm?"
"How much is her bill?" Ben asked calmly.
"$49.45, not including tip," Vincent replied.
Ben looked at the young woman. "Miss...?"
"Frost..." she responded hesitantly.
"Miss Frost, when was the last time you had a proper meal?" Ben asked gently.
"A while..." she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ben turned back to the maître d'. "Vincent, was it?"
"Yes?"
"I'll cover her tab." Ben slid $60 across the table to the man.
Vincent was surprised by the gesture. "Are you sure, sir?"
Even Frost seemed taken aback by the act.
"It's fine. Consider it an act of goodwill," Ben said with a smile.
Vincent accepted the money. "Very well." He turned to Frost. "Today is your lucky day. Don't push it."
Frost stared at Ben. "I... Uh... Thanks."
"Name's Ben. You?"
"Emma."
Ben gestured to the seat across from him. "Well, Emma, have a seat. Feel free to get dessert or order takeout."
Emma hesitated. "Are you sure? I couldn't..."
Ben rolled his eyes, his expression one of mild exasperation. "I'd rather not leave someone hungry for the rest of the week if I can help it." Part of what he's accumulated in the market was alread going to a various charity organizations.
Emma cautiously reached out with her telepathy, trying to gauge Ben's intentions. To her shock, all she encountered was white noise. That was new.
Ben raised a brow at her brief stare. "Is there something on my face?"
"Oh, no. I was just thinking." Emma quickly shook her head and took a seat, grabbing a menu.
Present
Wakanda
T'Challa's footsteps echoed through the ancient halls of the Black Panther's Temple. His heart pounded with grief. The temple was silent, save for the distant rumble of thunder outside. A black panther statue stood at the end of the hall, bathed in the dim light. Beneath it, a stand held the Black Panther suit. Two Vibranium daggers lay crossed beneath the suit.
With each step up the stone stairs, T'Challa felt the weight of his father's legacy pressing down on him. When he reached the top, he knelt before the suit, bowing his head respectfully. His fingers trembled as he reached out, lifting the mask from its stand. He simply held it for a moment, pressing his forehead against the cold metal. Despite his age, he was still a boy seeking comfort from his father's spirit.
T'Challa raised his head. He locked onto the panther statue above him. His grief transformed into a resolve to avenge his father.
A soft voice broke the silence behind him. "You're leaving, aren't you?"
T'Challa turned to see his mother, Ramonda, standing at the bottom of the stairs. Her expression was calm, but her eyes were filled with understanding. She had always known her son's heart better than anyone.
"I have to, mama," T'Challa replied. "I know it is wrong—"
Ramonda interrupted gently. "It's alright. I support your decision. Just do the right thing when the time comes."
T'Challa nodded with gratitude. He descended the stairs, embracing his mother tightly. She held him close.
"I love you, mama," T'Challa whispered.
Ramonda kissed his forehead. "I love you too. Don't forget to tell your sister."
"I won't," T'Challa promised, pulling away reluctantly.
As they parted, T'Challa took one last look at the suit before carefully placing the mask in his bag. With a final, determined glance at the panther statue, he turned to leave the temple.
Back at the Palace
Shuri sat alone in her room, tears streaming down her face as she replayed the brutal scene of her father's death in her mind. The pain was raw, a deep wound torn open by M'Baku's cruelty. She was also consumed with worry for her brother, who had disappeared after the battle. Fear gripped her heart—fear of losing him too.
"Shuri."
The sound of T'Challa's voice made her head snap up. She saw him standing in the doorway, a bag slung over his shoulder, somber.
"Brother!" Shuri ran to him and threw her arms around him. "I was so worried about you. Why did you run off?"
T'Challa knelt in front of her, holding her tightly. "I have to go."
Shuri pulled back slightly in disbelief. "What? Why?"
"I need to go and get help," T'Challa explained, his voice steady. "I can't fight this battle alone. I need to find allies, people who can help me avenge Baba and bring justice to Wakanda."
Tears welled up in Shuri's eyes as she clutched his arms. "Please don't leave. I can't lose you too."
T'Challa placed a gentle hand on her cheek. "You'll never lose me. I'll be back before you know it with the help we need. I promise you that."
Shuri sniffled, nodding despite the tears. "I love you, brother."
"I love you too, little sister."
They held each other for a moment longer before T'Challa stood up, ready to leave. He gave Shuri one last reassuring smile before turning away. The rain fell heavily as he stepped outside. He paused and looked back at the palace. His mother and sister watched him with tear-filled eyes.
T'Challa turned and ran into the night. He knew he would return, for Wakanda needed him.
The Mines
The ancient mines echoed with machinery deep beneath Wakanda's surface. The tunnels, carved out over centuries, were lined with the precious metal that had fueled Wakanda's secret rise to power.
M'Baku, the new king by ritual combat, surveyed his reward with satisfaction. Around him, members of the White Gorilla tribe worked diligently, extracting the Vibranium under his command.
"For generations, the Black Panther tribe ruled Wakanda," M'Baku began. "They crushed my people under their heels. But no more."
"What of the Black Panther's son? Will he return?" asked a voice from the shadows.
M'Baku turned to Ulysses Klaue, the infamous arms dealer. The left side of his face bore the scars from his previous encounters with Wakanda, but it was his right hand that drew the most attention. The appendage had been replaced with a high-tech disruptor.
"It does not matter," M'Baku replied dismissively. "That Panther is defeated, and the kings of Wakanda do not ask for him. Even if he did return, who could help him?"
Klaue chuckled darkly. "Well, I'm glad I could be of assistance. But I'll be taking my payment now." He raised his right hand. "I've got men ready."
M'Baku regarded Klaue for a moment, then gave a curt nod. "Very well. As promised, the Vibranium is yours to take, Klaue."
Klaue's looked around at the rich deposits of Vibranium. "It's always good to go right to the source."
As Klaue's men began moving in to take their share of the Vibranium, M'Baku watched them with an expression unreadable. One could argue that he had made a pact with a devil, but in his mind, it was a necessary evil to ensure the return of the old ways of Wakanda. The White Gorilla tribe would remove the weakness that the Black Panther's lineage had wrought for many years.
Outside the Village
T'Challa, now donning the Black Panther suit, crouched silently on a thick branch of a towering tree just beyond the village. The suit fit him like a second skin. The mask covered his face, but his eyes scanned the village below.
He had seen enough. M'Baku had not only taken his father's life but had also sold Wakanda's most precious resource to a foreign invader. The weight of his mission pressed heavily on him, but T'Challa knew what he had to do. He could not face M'Baku and Klaue alone—not yet. He needed allies, time to plan, and, most of all, to keep Wakanda's secrets out of Klaue's hands.
With one final look at his home, T'Challa turned and leaped from the tree, disappearing into the night. His heart ached to leave Wakanda in the hands of a tyrant, but he knew that to save it, he would have to leave. He would find the strength, the allies, and the means to return and reclaim his father's throne. He vanished into the darkness.
Weapon X Facility
Steve Rogers had left the surveillance room and started moving toward Sector 5 to find the child.
As he rounded a corner, the sound of voices reached his ears. He froze, quickly pressing himself against the wall and slipping into a nearby alcove. From down the hall, two figures were conversing. He recognized the voices immediately from the attack on the town. The one clad in red and black had his usual manic energy. Steve listened intently.
Deadpool's voice echoed through the corridor, filled with his usual bravado. "I'm just saying, I have the same if not better regeneration than Wolverine. I could totally go through the adamantium skeleton process. Think about it—adamantium swords and bones. I'd be unstoppable."
Steve grimaced. If this man had the same level of healing as James, he would be hard to put down. Steve doubted that a bullet to the head would work if his memories of James on the frontline of the war were accurate.
Omega Red grew weary and sighed. "If you recall the doctor's words, adamantium is toxic to the body. It will handicap you further than you already are."
Deadpool paused, seemingly puzzled. "What handicap?"
There was a brief silence, followed by Omega Red's blunt explanation. "Wade... You are literally a walking tumor... Do you really want to throw toxic metal into the mix?"
"Hmm... Point taken," Deadpool conceded, and Steve could almost hear the gears turning in the mercenary's head.
Omega Red's patience was wearing thin. "Is there a reason you are here with me and not following the doctor's orders?"
Deadpool's tone shifted to something more casual, almost flippant. "What? Friends can't hang out together from time to time?"
"We are friends?" Omega Red sounded genuinely surprised, if not a little skeptical.
Deadpool didn't miss a beat. "Okay. Fine. We're more like begrudging co-workers."
Omega Red huffed. "Get to the point."
Deadpool's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, though it still carried easily in the quiet hall. "I was thinking that since Wolvie's back, we can tease him with his kid. He finally came back home with the milk and cigarettes he promised."
Steve's heart skipped a beat. His intuition was right.
Omega Red, however, was not amused. "The girl has much potential and doesn't need distractions from the defector before he gets reprogrammed."
"Come on," Deadpool argued, "growing kids need social interaction. Remember when I played catch with her?"
Steve could practically hear Omega Red's exasperation. "You were shooting her, hoping that she would cut or block the bullets in mid-flight."
"Exactly," Deadpool said, as if that made perfect sense. "You should have seen me in action when I was still sexy. There was this one time I was in an elevator surrounded by gunmen..."
Omega Red cut him off with a warning growl. "Wade..."
Deadpool wasn't deterred. "The point is that the kid could learn a lot from her Uncle Deadpool and Uncle Omega."
Omega Red's voice dropped to a low, threatening rumble. "One of the saving graces of that child is that she doesn't talk much. So that she doesn't get that mouth of yours, I would appreciate it if you didn't meddle with her training more than you already have."
As the two continued to walk away, Steve himself quietly moved from his hiding spot. A pit formed in his stomach of how much the girl had been affected by her experiences here.
#
Professor Thorton sat in his office revising the day's data entries. A heavy folder of data spread across his desk. His weary eyes scanned the documents before him, reviewing the progress and setbacks of the Weapon X Program. The Wolverine was back in their possession.
Thorton leaned back in his chair, letting out a deep sigh. He had come a long way since the U.S. Army. To think it all started when he found Nathaniel Essex's laboratory hidden within a Nazi concentration camp. It was a goldmine of genetic research.
The U.S. Government quickly absorbed Essex's work into its clandestine operations. Thorton was recruited into what would become known as the Weapon Plus Program to create super-soldiers. It would be the successor to Project: Rebirth. That was America's first step into the future: Captain America, aka Weapon I.
Weapon Plus expanded its operations, co-sponsoring with the CIA the formation of Team X. Thorton became the head scientist, responsible for the continuous conditioning that kept the operatives in line. Team X was a success, but it was only the beginning.
Thorton was later appointed Director of the Weapon X Program. The capture of Logan, codenamed Wolverine, had been vital. Logan was the perfect subject. His healing factor made him suited to survive the adamantium bonding process. The ultimate weapon had a body laced with unbreakable metal and a mind conditioned into a killing machine.
Sadly, free will got in his way. Despite all of Thorton's efforts to control him, Wolverine had broken free. The escape nearly brought the entire Weapon X Program to its knees. For a time, it seemed like everything Thorton had worked for would be lost.
Even as his superiors moved to shut down Weapon X, Thorton kept the program alive.
As he leaned back in his chair to stretch, a small red notification box appeared. His brow furrowed as he read the alert: "Subject Lady Deathstrike - Entered Containment Room: Subject Logan."
Thorton's eyes narrowed. "Damn it." He quickly set aside the paperwork. He knew how volatile Lady Deathstrike could be when it came to Logan. Their shared history was a powder keg. The last thing he needed was a confrontation that could jeopardize years of work. Thorton moved quickly toward the containment area.
#
Steve moved through the corridors as he approached Sector 5. Steve eventually came across an observation window and saw the girl again. She was bound in metal restraints that held her hands and feet. The girl lay on a narrow bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her expression was seemingly devoid of emotion.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching. He quickly moved to a shadowed corner, watching as a scientist appeared carrying a tray of food. The man stopped at the door to the girl's room, pulling out a keycard and sliding it through the reader. The door hissed open.
The scientist stepped inside, his voice a condescending drone. "Okay, X-23. It's dinner time. Let's refrain from any messes this—"
Steve was on him in an instant, knocking the scientist out with a precise blow to the head. The man crumpled to the ground, the tray clattering beside him. Steve caught the keycard before it could hit the floor and moved into the room.
The girl blinked, breaking free of her trance-like state. She sat up, her eyes locking onto Steve. She tilted her head slightly, trying to understand this new situation. The last time someone unexpectedly entered her room was Deadpool, with one of his bizarre ideas of fun. She didn't like playing catch with him. It hurt. This was different. The man standing before her was new. Instead of the usual cold detachment, there was a warmth that she hadn't seen in a while.
Steve approached her slowly. "Sorry about that. Hello, there. My name is Steve. I'm here to help."
Laura pulled her legs to her chest.
"Don't worry," Steve continued, keeping his movements. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Do you understand me?"
Laura hesitated, then gave a small nod.
"That's good." Steve smiled reassuringly. "Do you have a name?"
Memories of Doctor Kinney flashed through her mind. She was the only other person who had ever shown her any semblance of kindness in this place. They had talked and read books together. The other people in white coats disapproved. The name the doctor had called her surfaced in her mind. "Laura..."
"Laura," Steve repeated, his smile widening. "That's a beautiful name."
She liked the name, too, but she should have been a better subject. Doctor Kinney was gone now. The professor promised that they would get a new teacher to properly discipline her from then on.
"Listen, Laura, I know where your father is. I can get you out of here and take you to him if you want."
Laura's brow furrowed. Father? The concept was foreign to her, but then she remembered the original Weapon X, the man whose genetic material had been used to create her. Doctor Kinney had mentioned him once. "Logan?"
Steve exhaled slowly. "That's... That's close enough." He gestured to her restraints. "Do you know how to get out of here?"
Laura nodded slightly and pointed toward a control panel at the edge of the room. She had seen the scientists manipulate it whenever they moved her from one sector to another.
Steve followed her gaze. He tightened his grip on his shield. When he broke those restraints, alarms would likely go off, and they'd have to move fast. He turned back to Laura. "Are you ready to get out of here?"
Laura took a deep breath. Kinney had talked about what she would do in the outside world. "Yes..."
#
AN: Special thanks to Seana, Jebest4781, Charles, vividlearner744, OmegaDelta, Henry Stickman, fearmegu, Kitsune Robyn, Salo Guzman, Traiton Moses, SonicSonicsSonic, KA012, Monkey, Tapion, Roger Cornejo, Dragon lord, and JJsouza09!
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