BLACK PANTHER IN: "KUELEZA [ EXPLANATIONS ]"

Grey Virginia skies. Soft, pattering droplets falling in thin, shimmering sheets. The clean scent of rain, and loamy earth. The syrupy smell of eucalyptus trees. Perfectly manicured lawns stretching into the grey-green, undulating distance. Here was the silence of the spirits. The quiet of rest from the cares of the living. Here came those whose hearts heard and could not refuse the call of those who have gone Beyond.

He came in person, although he never need do so. Any of his many functionaries could have and would have done an admirable job in his stead.

Yet he came.

He stood...completely undetected...in the open, and observed the young man standing 200 meters away.

The young man...standing erect, swaddled in a thick black trenchcoat, matching gloves and fedora... was American. African-American, actually. And the young man...thinking he was alone, having fully eluded the prying eyes that were always upon him...made no pretense at camouflage, as he mourned at the grave of his Uncle.

Youth. Its arrogance, brashness, unwisdom; its undying hope and belief in its own infallibility, it's own rectitude, its own invincibility.

Yes, the young man was wrong, but he didn't fault the young man for this. He has easily and repeatedly not only observed most people but maintained the most prying of surveillance upon them...even supercapes...without their knowledge.

Experience cannot be overstated as an advantage. And this advantage is something that he uses in ways that those less experienced than he simply have no chance to overcome.

To his sight, the young man was swaddled in flowing, darkly shimmering colors that wobbled back and forth in tune with the ebb, flow, and intermixture of powerful emotions which he did not allow to disturb the placid surface of his face. The dark topaz shimmer of feelings of self castigation. The glistening chartreuse of regret. The blood red of intense, still-fresh anger. The indigo of grief. Dabs of the smothering grey of despair.

And the shining, fiery yellow of a towering, fierce drive for vengeance and vindication that is fed by all of the foregoing feelings.

The young man's body became swathed in fluted shapes of light as the focus of his mind feelings and spirit changed. Golds. Starfire whites. Pearl greys. Sparkling fuligin.

The young man was praying.

That is when he soundlessly closed the distance between himself and the young man until they were a mere 3 meters apart.

Without any hint that he noted anything amiss, the young man transitioned from deep soulful prayer to savage attack aimed directly at the person observing him.

The cone of graviton force that the young man launched from his left palm...invisible to most but clear as moonfire to his eyes...was impressive, but not the genuine threat. He neutralized that in nanoseconds with his energy matrix. Neither was the young man's tech savvy manifestation of a darkforce vortex which would have sucked him into the grasp of paralyzing interdimensional fetters; although the fetters are a nice touch. The invisible wave of ten million nanocytes neutralizing tech and a decently inclusive array of psi powers that was released simultaneously with the darkforce vortex and used the darkforce attack as cover for its own stealthy simultaneous attack was also inspired.

He neutralized that, too with the same defense that he used to halt the other attacks.

"Thomas," spoke he, " I have not come to attack you."

"Tell that to The X-Men," Thomas retorted. And added a repulsor ray for good measure.

He negated the energy cohesion necessary to maintain the repulsor ray's destructive properties without any effort.

Ahhh. The American supercapes are still stung by the one-sided defeat and beatdown that Shuri handed the X-Men for their invasion of Wakanda during and prior to The Age of Apocalypse. Even by Outworlders' standards, Americans are culturally immature; therefore he expected this. In fact, he knew that this initial hostility had to be expressed to...as the Outworlders say...let Thomas "get it out of his system" before more fruitful communication could begin.

"I knew and was friends with your Uncle. I want to help you avenge him."

Thomas was a very smart young man. The fact that all of Thomas' attacks were almost condescendingly dismissed, combined with the lack of aggression by the man facing him, did not escape Thomas' notice by any means. Thomas wasn't fool enough to lower his Oscillation Fusion Major Matrix defensive shields, but for the nonce? Offensive attacks were halted.

"Clor is destroyed. Vengeance was enacted years ago. You are more than late."

"Or. You have been misinformed by your ever reliable and trustworthy SHIELD employers."

"SHIELD employers who are infinitely more forthcoming and honest than Wakandans are known to be. What does that say about your country?"

"It says that you have not applied logic to your comments. How many Wakandans have you known? One. My nephew. Has my nephew been anything but honorable in his dealings with you, young man?"

"King TChalla the Black Panther has been a role model of mine since childhood, and a major benefactor since the passing of my Uncle. King TChalla has also been the focal point of many international incidents that have outraged the world. King TChalla is consistently highly secretive, manipulative, and ruthless. Unknowable. So yes. Despite the honorable treatment and wonderful help that TChalla has bequeathed to me, my country has excellent reason to still ask: What does the fractious behavior of Wakanda say about your country?"

"I will answer your question, young man, but first. A logic correction. And several questions of my own,juxtaposing your country and mine.

You say that TChalla is highly secretive, manipulative, and ruthless...without ever knowing more personally about the man other than the fact that TChalla reached out to help you when not only nobody else would? Others were actively engaged in retarding your growth as a man and as a scientist. Some of whom were SHIELD agents. And yet you have no qualms about working for men...Nick Fury Sr. and/or Jr....and a woman...Maria Hill...whom you know for a fact to be everything that you accuse TChalla of being, AND they tasked SHIELD agents to spy upon you all the way up to the time they head hunted you for their organization.

So. What does that say about YOUR country?

And to answer your question, young man? What does these things you cite say about MY country of Wakanda?

Young man, it says that we have saved the world...including your country...more times than any of you know, despite the ill eye you cast toward us. It says that despite this ill eye and ill repute, TChalla has been and still is regarded as both noble and trustworthy in the Outworlder supercape community. Despite being simultaneously what you label as "secretive, manipulative, ruthless, unknowable".

What does that say about your country, when your country passes judgement on both a man and a country that they admit to not knowing more about than essentially this:"Wakandans are African, mysterious, the leading light in human history, saved us thousands of times over the last ten thousand years, and not only didn't destroy us but saved us dozens of more times AFTER we tried to invade them with mech-zombies?"

It says that my country has the military technological and other supreme advantages that allow us to repel attacks from extraterrestrial and terrestrial invaders for at least ten millennia,and still have the spiritual refinement and cultural maturity to not simply takeover the world and prevent other countries from developing their own sovereignty...despite their repeated attempts at aggression upon us. It says that we have consistently not initiated hostilities with countries that we could severely punish and outright vaporize, despite provocations...like when your SHIELD sent mech-zombies to invade us under cover of assistance for Wakanda. It says that we decided not to eradicate Europe prior to its feudal era, or at any other time. Including right now and the future. Which we could easily do at our leisure; without consequences of any genuine kind. It says that we decided not to eradicate America for its continued destruction of the world's ecosphere and barbaric activities like dropping nuclear and plutonium based weapons on Japan. It says that my country displayed infinitely more humanity than your country would display toward us when we elected not to wipe the European powers from this Earth for their barbaric chattel slavery. Thus preempting their next barbarity against the Jews, Irish, Hindus, Chinese and others.

It says that despite all of this, I...a Royal...am here in a land that has set outrages uncounted upon millions of my brethren, seeking to help a young man who only moments ago attacked me without provocation by me. And I am still offering not only the proverbial olive branch of peace but never swerved from my desire to help this young man; when I am not choiceless in this matter.

It says that my country has been provoked many times more than America and Europe has been, and still has slain many times less people than America has when America has faced far, far less provocation.

It says that SHIELD has done many more things to earn your suspicion than have I. Else you wouldn't be out here visiting the cemetery while using heavy tech to prevent SHIELD from tracking you and knowing your location."

"How did you find me?" Thomas asked at last.

"I am Syan, High Prince of Wakanda, Esteemed and Elder Panther. I can find pretty much anyone that I will."

"That is not an answer to my question, High Prince."

"Yes it is, Thomas. You are simply too young to recognize this fact." Pause. Gauge the young man's reaction. The young man has strong character.

"You said that you have information about Clor, High Prince."

"No, I said that I have information regarding the murderer of your uncle."

"Clor murdered my uncle."

"Clor was a tool. Like a gun. If a man shot another man, do we punish the gun or do we punish the man who used the gun?"

"Tony Starks created Clor."

"Yes, but the truth is a bit more complicated than that."

"And how do you know this truth, High Prince?"

"Because I am secretive, manipulative, ruthless, and unknowable."

"Hahaha."

Thomas Foster, the new Goliath...nephew of Bill Foster, the original Black Goliath...hadn't experienced a true laugh untainted by sorrow, regret, self recrimination and remorse for years. This laugh? Broke that mold. He needed this laugh. His very soul seemed more cleansed by this laugh.

"Let us talk in more appropriate settings, Thomas." Syan gestured toward the impressive Wakandan vehicle disguised as black SUV which uncloaked beside him.

Thomas immediately used his impressive tech to scan the vehicle. "You let me scan your vehicle,High Prince." Not a question.

"Yes."

"I found nothing alarming, but that may be a ruse to get me to get in your Wakanda-mobile."

"If I intended you harm, I could have dispensed such hostilities right here. In an empty graveyard without witnesses. Rather than bring you within arm's reach, magnifying the danger to me and magnifying the certainty that our conflict would mar the interior of a costly...as you called it...'Wakanda-mobile.' "

"Who's the girl? Not the ones with the spears. The really young girl."

"Lunella Lafayette."

"Isn't she--?"

"Yes."

"I read that she is the smartest person on Earth. Smarter than T'Challa. Smarter than Shuri."

"You should know better than to believe yellow journalism."

"That data came from a SHIELD file, not The Daily Bugle when J. Jonah Jameson was leading it," Thomas specified. Then he mused quietly to himself: " I always wanted to meet her."

"Yellow journalism," The High Prince and Esteemed Panther of Wakanda repeated. "And Lunella is sitting in this vehicle not 8 meters from you."

"Hello, Lunella!" Thomas said as he entered the Wakandan SUV.

"Hi Thomas! I always wanted to meet you, too! Do you know where we're going?" Lunella bubbled brightly at Thomas.

"Lessee. Dora Milaje. You. High Prince Fancy Pants. Me. So we're going to see...Jarvis."

Lunella turns to High Prince Fancy Pants. "He did that with very little clues!" she liked it. Then she gave Syan the side eye. "It wasn't yellow journalism."