Chapter 35
The air hung heavy with silence as all present lowered their heads and saluted their new king. The tribal banners fluttered gently in the faint breeze, the waterfall still thundering behind them, echoing through the ancient cliffs. All stood in respect—elders, warriors, and even the Dora Milaje—acknowledging the coronation of Killmonger, all except one. Ash rose silently from his seat, his expression unreadable, and began walking away. Hours passed, and the sky turned a dusky orange as Ash, carrying his bag, reached the edge, ready to leave Wakanda behind.
Before he could step forward, Killmonger appeared in front of him, the setting sun glinting off his new Black Panther suit—sleek black with shimmering gold veins coursing through the vibranium weave. His gait was confident, each step heavy with power, his eyes locked on Ash, who coolly checked him from head to toe without a word. "You just gonna leave without hearing the new king out?" Killmonger asked, his tone laced with arrogance. "I want you on my side, Ash. You've got power. You've seen the world like I have. I'm gonna change it—burn it down and rebuild it in the name of every brother and sister who's ever been stepped on."
Ash remained silent, arms relaxed but posture still, his face passive. Killmonger continued, undeterred. "You think you don't belong here because you're white? You think I want supremacy?" he asked, stepping closer. "Nah, man. I want justice. Real justice. I want to tear down the world that lets some rule just 'cause of birthright. With you, I could wipe out every piece of it and build something fair." The wind stirred the grass at their feet as Ash looked to the side and sighed before finally speaking. "No." He didn't explain, didn't elaborate. He simply took a step to the side to leave.
Killmonger extended his hand in front of Ash, blocking his path. "I'm the Black Panther now. I got strength beyond human. I wear vibranium. You're strong, no doubt. Your defense is something else. But now the playing field's level," he said with a smirk. "And this is my turf." Ash let out a deeper sigh, his shoulders sagging as he muttered, "Fuck." His eyes suddenly glowed white as his mana activated, his beach-ball-sized core spinning violently inside his chest. Energy flooded his limbs as he overloaded his right arm, the skin glowing pure white as raw power surged through it. Killmonger's eyes widened, attempting to dodge.
But Ash was faster. His glowing fist crashed into Killmonger's chest, the vibranium suit flaring bright purple from the sudden influx of kinetic energy. A massive pulse of violet burst from the point of impact, shaking the nearby ledges. The force launched Killmonger through the air like a missile, his body slamming into a vibranium wall. Another pulse erupted from the impact, overloading the suit a second time. Knocked out cold, Killmonger crumpled to the base of the wall, unmoving. Ash stood in silence, exhaling softly. "I hate people who force me," he muttered, turning to leave. But before he did, he reached down and casually snatched a piece of vibranium metal from a nearby storage rack—for disrespect.
The moment he exited , he was surrounded by a bunch of Dora Milaje, as well as several aircraft no doubt filled with weaponry. Seeing this, Ash just sighed as he activated his mana, and for the first time, Ash overloaded his entire body with mana, making his body glow like a flashlight. He was a human white torch; if he glowed white, that was as Ash felt it—the power. Having his already superhuman body further enhanced by him overloading it with mana, improving it further, Ash felt, well, everything. His strength increased to an unimaginable height, his senses were through the roof, his reflexes, everything was enhanced further than his already superhuman body.
Which allowed Ash to take a single step forward, much to the Dora Milaje, who chanted as they took a step back and pointed their spears at him. But the moment Ash's feet touched the pristine stone floor, it not only cracked, it created a crater that further sent shockwaves out, much to the shock of all the Dora Milaje, who due to their discipline, did not falter. But Ash was not here to fight. No, he then crouched, further damaging the stone below him before he leapt. But that simple leap resulted in Ash shooting up to the sky, flying past the hologram dome that surrounded the entirety of Wakanda.
But he did not stop there. No, he continued to fly, not voluntarily of course, he kept on flying, carried by his momentum until he reached nearly 5,000 feet up high in the sky. He then started to fall, Ash, who was still glowing bright white, sighed as he thought, "What a drag," as he started to fall just as fast as he ascended. Yet he didn't fall towards Wakanda. Further from it, he continued to descend until he arrived at a large deserted mountain area. Of course, his landing flattened the mountain.
Ash was currently at the highest state of his powers, and the fall did not hurt. In fact, Ash laid in the crater that was a mountain before he got up and leapt again. Ash had no destination yet, and he didn't want to go back to Kamar-Taj and face what was most likely the Ancient One's death. So he just leapt from one place to another, creating crater after crater, scaring thousands of people, even falling into an ocean, where he found out that the ocean was thick with mana, most likely from phenomena opening and if his guest was right, there were thousands of these mana beast in the ocean. He ran out of mana, where he then laid in the crater, meditating, and restoring his mana. Before returning to leaping again, until he found himself in a snowy, mountainous area, in front of a cabinet,
-scene change-
Underneath the Pentagon in Washington D.C., deep within a classified American military bunker, red lights blinked silently beside thick monitors displaying satellite footage. General Carter stood with arms folded, eyes squinting at the faint silhouette of a glowing figure tearing through the clouds. "What the hell is that?" he muttered, as the room buzzed with analysts decoding thermal and kinetic signatures. The radar had pinged seismic anomalies across three states, and each one matched a landing—accompanied by devastating shockwaves. "Whatever it is," an analyst said, "it's breaking sound barriers without propulsion." "Deploy a recon drone," Carter ordered. "Keep it black. And I want full-spectrum scans."
In a snowy military station buried within the Ural Mountains, the Russian Federation's Ministry of Defense stared at a grainy satellite feed relayed by a top-orbit optical platform. The anomaly had just flattened a small, uninhabited ridge in Kazakhstan. "Свет... он как метеор," murmured Colonel Petrov, his voice calm, but his eyes betrayed concern. A soft hum filled the room as cryo-drones launched silently from underground bays. Russian intel officers rapidly scanned for radiation, energy signatures, and magical interference, though the word was taboo. "Contact GRU Spetsnaz," the Colonel added. "Have them prepped for interception. I want that thing identified or brought down if possible."