Tony opened his eyes and immediately looked around, then reached up to touch his chest.
The Arc Reactor was gone. In its place was fresh, living flesh—the hole in his chest had completely disappeared.
"Th-this… I…"
Tony's eyes filled with tears of excitement. At last, he was free from that frail, sickly body. He felt reborn.
He burst out of the medical pod and immediately threw his arms around Lucas, creating a scene overflowing with enthusiasm. Shuri, thrilled, instantly started recording, accompanied by rapid camera shutter sounds.
"Lucas—! I finally—! I'm just too excited!!"
Tony spun Lucas around several times, looking like he was one step away from kissing him on the cheek.
"Alright, alright, I get it—you're excited,"
Lucas said helplessly.
"But can you let go first? If you want to hug someone, go hug Pepper. I'm into women, and if the three women at my place see this, you're definitely going to be in trouble."
The scene was far too suggestive. Shuri looked like she was about to hang up a director's slate, filming from every possible angle.
Only then did Tony realize he was being filmed by a teenage girl. He turned sharply toward Shuri.
"Damn it—delete that footage right now!"
He reached for the beads on Shuri's wrist, trying to snatch them away.
Shuri dodged nimbly, retreating while pulling up a split-screen display. Pepper Potts' photo appeared on it.
"So this is your girlfriend? She's gorgeous~~~
I wonder how she'd feel if she received a video of you shirtless, hugging Lucas like this~~~"
With a single flick of her hand, the video could be sent to Pepper. By then, no explanation would save Tony—or Lucas.
"Damn it! Lucas, stop her!"
Tony shouted urgently.
"If Pepper gets this, she'll definitely send it to Skye and the others! You won't be any better off than me!"
Lucas snapped out of it instantly. Tony was absolutely right. Pepper would definitely send it to Skye, and at that point, Lucas would be done for. He might as well pack his bags—if the three women didn't immediately fly a Quinjet to Wakanda to deal with him personally. They might even bring Pepper along for good measure.
That would be a full-scale disaster.
"Damn it—Shuri, delete that right now!"
Lucas shouted, moving at lightning speed. He even used teleportation.
"You can mess with Tony all you want, but don't drag me into this!"
"What do you mean 'mess with me' is fine? Whose side are you on?!"
Tony protested angrily.
The three of them ended up running circles around the medical pod like a reenactment of "the Monkey King dodging the Heavenly Palace." No one could catch anyone else. Shuri was shockingly agile, bouncing around like a monkey.
The chaos only ended when a communication request came in.
Shuri's bracelet lit up. She stopped running and accepted the call.
One of the beads transformed into the holographic image of Okoye, her bald head unmistakable.
"Where is our king?"
Okoye asked sternly.
"He's turned off his communicator."
"How would I know?"
Shuri replied casually.
"I'm not his personal tail."
"Just now, a man appeared at the border claiming he killed Ulysses Klaue—and he brought the body with him."
Okoye's tone sharpened.
"W'Kabi is escorting him to the palace as we speak. We must find your brother immediately. Where is he?!"
Shuri's expression changed instantly. She moved to the glass wall of the medical bay and waved her hand. The intruder's information appeared—Erik.
At that moment, T'Challa had already left the palace. What his father had told him weighed heavily on his mind, and he needed time to process it. He sat alone on a cliff, staring blankly at the grasslands below.
Nakia soon approached from behind and sat beside him.
Just then, Shuri contacted Nakia.
"Is my brother with you?"
She spoke urgently.
"He has to come back immediately. Something's happened."
Nakia and T'Challa exchanged looks, then immediately boarded a ship and headed back toward the palace.
---
Soon, everyone gathered at Shuri's research center. Erik's full profile was projected in the air.
"Erik Stevens,"
Shuri began.
"Graduated from Annapolis at nineteen, then earned a master's degree from MIT."
"Oh~ Didn't expect this guy to make it through MIT,"
Tony muttered with a shrug.
"He doesn't exactly look like the academic type."
"After that, he joined the U.S. Special Forces and was deployed to the Middle East. To him, killing people was as easy as playing a video game."
Shuri pulled up footage from Erik's military service. The scenes were exactly as she described—efficient, brutal, and merciless.
T'Challa watched the images in silence.
He knew now—this was his uncle's son. His own brother.
He had simply never imagined that Erik would grow into a killer like this.
After reviewing Erik's information, everyone moved to the royal hall. All the tribal leaders were assembled to discuss the situation. Lucas and Tony, as outsiders, were not permitted to attend.
"Is this man truly Wakandan?"
One tribal chief asked.
"Your Majesty, please explain what is going on."
Erik claimed to be Wakandan and even bore the traditional mark, yet there was no record of him in Wakanda's archives. The chiefs were deeply conflicted.
Just as T'Challa was about to speak, the great doors opened.
Erik was brought in, his hands bound, personally escorted by W'Kabi.
This was the first time T'Challa laid eyes on his brother.
Erik scanned the hall, sweeping his gaze across everyone present before finally fixing his eyes on T'Challa.
"Speak,"
T'Challa said in Wakandan.
W'Kabi repeated it in English.
"I understand Wakandan,"
Erik replied coldly, glancing at W'Kabi.
"I'll never forget this language."
"I'm here to tell you one thing,"
Erik continued calmly.
"I judged a man your king couldn't even capture—one who murdered your people."
His words sounded light, but to those present, they were a direct provocation against King T'Challa.
T'Challa stood up instantly. The guards closed in, and Okoye raised her spear.
"I don't care whether you brought back Ulysses Klaue,"
T'Challa said quietly, leaning close to Erik's ear.
"The only reason you're still alive is because I know who you are."
He knew Erik hadn't come with good intentions.
More than likely, he had come for revenge.
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