Sunlight streamed through the gauze curtains, dust motes dancing in the air...
Sean leaned against the headboard, absentmindedly stroking the golden-haired girl in his arms. Yesterday had been Gwen's birthday, and naturally, he had attended the grand banquet hosted by the New York Police Commissioner for his daughter.
After the birthday celebration, the two had returned to an apartment on the Upper East Side, spending a delightful night together. The intoxicating scent of hormones ignited a passionate connection between them, dominating their hearts and minds.
Gwen lazily opened her eyes, meeting Sean's tender gaze. The affectionate look in his eyes was enough to make one's heart melt.
A sweet smile curled on her lips...
While relationships between employers and subordinates might invite unnecessary gossip, this carefree girl didn't give it much thought. Gwen always followed her heart.
Whether it was Sean's mature demeanor or those deep mysterious eyes, he had indeed captivated her.
If men were books, she was certain she would never fully decipher the depths of this young man's soul.
"What are you thinking about?" Gwen's fingers traced circles on his broad chest as she blinked, her eyes shimmering like a spring lake, exuding a coquettish charm.
"Many things. Like what to have for breakfast, whether to eat you first, or maybe eat you first." Sean teased with a smirk before lowering his head to capture her soft pink lips, unleashing the fervent emotions within him.
'A little release is good for the body and soul,' he thought.
After another round of lingering intimacy, the two finally dragged themselves out of bed...
Exhausted, Gwen reluctantly allowed Sean to carry her from the soft sheets, settling onto his lap to enjoy a simple breakfast, though it was already past noon.
She nibbled on a sandwich from her plate, sipping a cup of warm milk in her right hand. Aside from his loyalty as a partner, Sean was, in many ways, the perfect boyfriend or lover.
He never grew impatient with her chatter, even tolerating her occasional whims. He often surprised her with little romantic gestures or gifts she had casually mentioned. This was why Gwen, knowing full well he could never belong to her alone, still clung to this relationship, unwilling to let go.
Sean turned on the television...
The President sat at the Oval Office desk. His expression was grave, and his tone somber as he delivered a prepared speech.
One had to admit, the man was a masterful performer. His stirring, impassioned address was flawless, worthy of applause and admiration from all.
President Underwood solemnly announced to the media the military plans concerning Wakanda, claiming that at 12:40 a.m. last night, Prince T'Challa had conspired to assassinate Kenyan Ambassador, Erik Lehnsherr.
According to reliable sources, Erik was a reformed mutant who had abandoned his radical past to advocate for the rights of African mutants.
Official speculation suggested that this assassination attempt stemmed from Wakanda's ruling class feeling threatened by Lehnsherr's egalitarian ideals, prompting Prince T'Challa to take drastic action.
The attack had left over twenty injured and six dead. Video footage released by the authorities showed the prince clad in strange armor, slaughtering without mercy, treating lives as worthless. His brutality truly shocking.
Like a replay of the Gulf War, the United States was the first to condemn Wakanda's unjust actions, demanding that the nation allow American troops to be stationed along its Kenyan border under the guise of 'international aid'.
Still in the dark, Wakanda responded with cautious diplomacy. King T'Chaka logically refused this unreasonable demand. Though his tone was polite, the newly inaugurated President Underwood deemed it dismissive and a silent insult to America!
The Capitol buzzed with excitement. This isolated African nation had dared to 'provoke' the American eagle, giving the war hawks the perfect excuse to mobilize the military machine.
War and colonization had always brought immense profits to capitalists and interest groups. Historical precedents like the East India Company, which grew rich from the slave trade, proved this.
Under the carefully crafted public narrative, the war proposal faced little resistance. Congress swiftly approved the military operation, and the armed forces eagerly prepared to showcase their might, eager to claim medals of honor.
The only surprise in this feast of crows was General Thaddeus Ross, a man known for his belligerence, who remained silent. He even allowed General Mattis, who was backed by corporate interests, to seize command.
This general, whose reputation and achievements rivaled Ross's, had once led the U.S. Joint Forces Command and NATO's Allied Command Transformation. He later oversaw operations in the Middle East, South Asia, and the Sahara. A victory in Wakanda would cement his legacy, securing him the position of Secretary of Defense.
Yet Ross seemed indifferent, leading many to wonder if the 'Thunderbolt' had lost his fighting spirit.
In any case, America was swept up in war fever. The expected anti-war movement never materialized. Under the federal government's guidance and relentless pro-war propaganda, the military operation was approved with startling speed.
As Sean often said, 'When the interests of the majority align, the voice of the people becomes insignificant...'
Democracy and freedom had never truly existed in this country. Those at the top merely played by the rules of capital, while the cries of the people went unheard...
....
While Sean enjoyed his peaceful breakfast across the ocean, Wakanda, which was thrust into the eye of the storm, was not faring well...
King T'Chaka sat in his chambers, having just concluded a heated council. The tribal elders had argued fiercely, each holding their ground, none willing to yield.
W'Kabi, leader of the Border Tribe and head of Wakanda's military, insisted on war. After all, further concessions from Wakanda would only invite more aggression.
Meanwhile, the elders of the River and Mining Tribes urged caution, believing rash action would only bring disaster.
T'Chaka was torn. He didn't understand what had happened. The War Dogs, Wakanda's intelligence network, had detected no warning signs. Everything had unfolded too suddenly, like an unexpected bullet.
His son, T'Challa, had only gone to apprehend Klaue. So how had that escalated into this?
First came Kenya's furious condemnation, accusing T'Challa of inciting diplomatic strife. Then America, an ocean away, inserted itself into the conflict, like a neighbor's quarrel suddenly drawing in a stranger from another street.
The old and politically astute king perceived the truth of the matter... Wakanda's secret of vibranium reserves had been exposed, attracting the greedy eyes of thieves.
But what of this exiled prince?
A sense of foreboding gripped T'Chaka. He had committed a grave sin. After ascending the throne, he had sent his younger brother, N'Jobu, to America as a spy. But N'Jobu fell in love with a woman in Oakland and fathered a son.
Witnessing the discrimination and persecution of their people abroad, N'Jobu dreamed of using Wakanda's might to change the world. It was then that he crossed paths with Ulysses Klaue, a smuggler.
The two conspired. N'Jobu needed funds and revealed secret routes into Wakanda, allowing Klaue to bypass border patrols and steal vast quantities of vibranium.
But Klaue was eventually caught. In his escape, he detonated explosives, killing countless Wakandans.
Discovering his brother's betrayal, T'Chaka confronted him. Unbeknownst to N'Jobu, the king had planted a spy, a young man named Zuri, by his side.
When Zuri exposed N'Jobu's plans, T'Chaka demanded his brother return to face judgment. But in their heated argument, the king accidentally killed him.
Whether out of guilt or fear of exposure, T'Chaka left N'Jobu's body behind along with his orphaned nephew...
"I deserve punishment for my sins, but Wakanda and T'Challa are innocent," the old king murmured alone in his chambers.
This buried memory had haunted him for years, a ghost he could never escape.
"Bast, guide me." T'Chaka pressed his hands to his forehead.
Closing his eyes, he thought of his son who was now in Kenya's grasp. His hesitation faded.
The aging Black Panther, his form now heavy, clenched his fists.
"You want war?" His eyes burned with fury as he declared, "Then Wakanda will give you war!"