An inconspicuous welcome

The raucous thrumming of the vehicle, as well as the occasional honking, did not distract the boy who was watching the passing scenery with a monotonous gleam in his eyes.

He was in London. A metropolitan famous for its unique antique structures, or rather, 'connection to past Great Britain'.

For where in most parts of the world, civilization has grown into the usage of modern duplexes or bungalows, in London, there were still occasional cottages and taverns older than his grandfather poking in the urban scenery.

Strangely enough, it was like London itself was fighting for its past to be remembered. Even though the World progresses and evolves past legends and myths, London will always remain a home to Mysteries and fairy tales...

Now, it would be undeniable to assume that some may even find such a line of reasoning to be asinine. But such kind of people were those who haven't seen the World that lies beneath the Moon—where even in these dying times, the Mysteries of the arcane are cradled and cultivated like a newborn child.

Yes, the boy wasn't like the major sum who lived their lives, unaware of the truth behind every mysterious gas outbreak or unexplainable mass fainting spells. To the World on the other side, he was amongst a dying breed, that still utilizes an Art in which its main Logos is to arrive at the Truth.

The Spiral Helix.

In short, he is somewhat of a Mage... He is currently on his way to school.

"Pardon me for asking, but are you new around these parts, son?"

The driver who asked was a middle-aged man -probably approaching his prime. He had this experienced look in his eyes indicating that he must have recognized my non-European ethnicity despite my dress (and also my demeanor) not revealing anything of that sort.

The boy chuckled lightly, at the question asked.

"Does it show that much?"

"Not really... Well, it's more of the fact that I've been a driver for more than a decade, I've got an eye for recognizing those who aren't from around these parts… And there's also your intonation to consider."

The boy stilled, hands automatically going towards his throat. Coughing, he replied, "Well, I can say that you're right on that one."

"So where are you from, son?"

"… Africa."

"Yeah, thought so when I'd heard your voice." The man's tone took a more jovial tone. "I'm drinking buddies with a friend from Africa... So which side are you from?"

To that, the boy's smile turned cryptic. "That's a secret."

The driver paused before shaking his head with a laugh. "Well, we've all got our secrets, eh..."

The superficial QA between the driver and the boy went on for a few minutes before it slowly altered into one of a more friendly conversation. The driver spoke of the sights and beauty the city of London had to offer, while the boy spoke elusively about the history of his people...

But soon enough, the conversation had to come to an end.

"And~ we're here. One of the prides of London; the Palace of Westminster..." The driver turned towards the boy. "A nice place for sightseeing."

The boy regarded the tall edifice and huffed,

"That is if that's all there is to it."

Confused, the driver was about to ask for further clarification—but the boy lifted his hand and shook his head.

"Don't mind me, just talking to myself…"

Giving the driver his fee, the boy said. "I was never here... You never drove around these parts today."

Upon hearing those confusing words, the driver's face was etched in confusion—then dullness—then an eerie placidness.

"You were never here... I never drove around these parts today. Understood."

With the driver getting the message, the boy came out of the car with a small duffle bag in his hand before watching the taxi drive out into the more normal parts of London.

Normally, there was no reason for the boy to have altered the driver's memories if it were about the need for the 'Concealment of Mystics' as the Mage Association calls it.

There were all sorts of wards and Bounded Fields around the Clock Tower that dealt with perception manipulation and could instantly make that anyone who sees the Clock Tower wouldn't be so much as inclined to pay any heed to it.

So yes, there truly should have been no need for the boy to do what he did.

But then again, the boy didn't do that for the Clock Tower's famed and feared tenet. It was mostly for himself—or rather, his true identity and the significance of why someone of his stature is using a taxi instead of some other exquisite means.

Indeed, the boy didn't do it for himself—it was more for the driver.

Facing a space, the boy ordered. "Make sure none of those meddling Mages disturbed that man. I would hate for someone who doesn't have any single clue about Magecraft to become targeted by Mages, just because they were curious about anything I may not have even told him."

There was an unnatural shift in the air that made the boy laugh.

"Come on now, I hope you don't think that there's anyone in this country that can hope to challenge me in combat... Yeah, I understand. Here isn't like back home. But that is why I must learn their ways if I am to protect my people from the world of today..."

The winds sang in reluctant acquiescence, prompting the boy to nod his head.

"Thank you, Idie will stay at my side till you are back. Now go."

With a 'whoosh', something shifted with another something taking its place. But the boy understanding what had just happened hefted his back and continued on his journey...

It is time to see what this Clock Tower (the Den of Snakes) could offer to the heir of Wakanda.

ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ

It's been 16 whole years since I'd died and been reborn as a Prince… Seriously, sometimes, I can't help but feel disbelief at my current state of affairs.

My new life has been such a kind of fairytale, I'm quite sure that most people (at least in my former World) would have laughed upon hearing it, and then asked for what I had been smoking.

Who I had been isn't important—not anymore, but who I am now? Now, that's the checker…

After all, it's not every day (at least from what I know) that one dies and is reborn as T'Challa, heir to what could be the most powerful country in the world and the next Black Panther…

Phew gives me the shivers just saying it.

One would now think that I am in the Marvel Multiverse seeing as I am slated to be the next Black Panther. But unfortunately, they would be wrong.

Trust me, I had checked.

In this World, no Captain star pants is freezing in the ice, the one approximately to Tony Stark is just a playboy whose got no talent beyond the construction of rudimentary firearms, Thor died in Ragnarok and has not been reborn ever since—unlike in the Marvel iteration, the Asgardian mythology isn't a repeatable one.

Of course, aliens are real, my great-great-grandfather, Bashenga, a pseudo-deity had joined the council of Gods as Representative of Wakanda to fight one of the alien ilk hundreds of thousands of years ago -we even got a piece of its flesh as commensuration.

Not like it made much of a difference from what I'd read.

But even then, the alien wasn't one I recognized—or at least, I don't think there was any alien called 'White Titan' existing in any Marvel iteration.

That wasn't all.

Gaia, from the Marvel iteration, had been an Elder God. In this World, she was nothing more than a Will: her, and another who represents the Totality of Humanity, Alaya.

And due to serious issues such as Gaia's Od running out, and the evolution of passing times from the Age of Elementals, Gods, and Man, natural aberrations were more or less extinct.

Which means no Fairies (or Fae as they're commonly called here). Werewolves exist (kinda part of the Fae) but they are so few that they don't even pass 2 thousand. Monsters and all sorts of powerful Phantasmal had more or less died out with the ones surviving moving to the Reverse Side of Gaia.

... Well, except in Wakanda—but then again, my people do not follow the laws of current civilization, so we're a different case.

But that's a story for another day.

Anyways, with all the magical beasts gone, the only type of natural predominant 'beasts' lurking in the World today, would be vampires or as they're called, Dead Ancestors and their ilk which appear in all forms of kinds and shapes.

Magic, now a miracle was only practicable in the form of Magecraft—for the World and its supernatural civilization, they were on a ticking time bomb.

I had already seen what would happen when the World 'dries' up in the future…

Then again, that doesn't include Wakanda so I'm not that fretful about my future.

Now that's not important—what is more important to me is this; since the time of my birth, this could be considered the first time that I am far away from my home.

Far away from my Empire and out into the estranged World of Man.

Mage Association, Clock Tower—the home of Modern Magercraft. I have to see it… If nothing else but to see what the World's people offer.

ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ

"Well, I'll certainly admit it is big," I muttered, taking in the frontal sights of the edifice.

I was an African-American in my past life, from New Jersey to be exact. I wasn't a traveler and nor did I possess the finances to sponsor my fancies.

Heh, who knew all it took for me to elevate from a hotel night watch to the son of the man who considers millions as the spare change was to die from a shootout…

Life is strange the more you live it.

Anyway, I understood after taking a look at the age-old building that it spoke a tale of ancient pride. One that had a rich history in it.

But…

"Yeah, Wakanda's better."

The wind rustled around me indignantly, as if my trying to compare the Clock Tower to one of the buildings in Wakanda was insulting.

'Sheesh, tough crowd.' I thought with my lips twitching.

Ah, same as in Marvel, it goes without saying that Wakanda still holds its supremacy and isolationist attitude toward outsiders. Considering what I had heard about the World of today... I am kind of inclined to agree with them.

Nevertheless, I still want to see and make sure that such a conservative attitude was justified... There was a reason why T'Challa in Marvel had decided to expand after all.

Around me, I could see people of all sorts of ages and societal classes, moving about with a sense of purpose. Unlike those outside the Clock Tower, I can see that they had this… Duty, or at least something of that sort.

Yeah, there's no doubt about it; they're Mages. Seeker of the Arcane and the Root...

Not like I care about that.

Anyway, I am not ashamed to admit that I am quite stumped on what to do. Since I am a new student, there was no need for me to enter the main school exactly. I did not need to see to any of the Staff officials – that had already been taken care of.

All I had to go do was get myself settled in the Campus Dorms...

Hmm… What to do, what to do.

The wind whispered a suggestion; that I go meet up with my vassals who had been stationed amongst the various Departments to inform them of my arrival.

But I shook my head.

"No need for that." I said, "I'm quite sure that almost all the main power players in here must have felt my arrival already…"

I trailed off, turning to catch the gaze of an elderly woman who stood by the window on the upper floors, watching me with a predatory gleam. Looking her back without fear, the woman smiled and inclined her head in acknowledgment to which I did the same.

Basic courtesy and stuff like that...

I ambled into the main part of the building, noting as some of the students looked at me with confusion and some, with disdain—only for the latter to mysteriously receive cut wounds on their necks upon doing so.

"Come on, now." I chastised, "No need for unnecessary bloodshed on the first day. Besides... I'll welcome their looks of disdain. It'll only make it much sweeter when I overtake them in the end."

The wind stilled at that as if appeased. Although, it seems like some of the onlookers had gotten the message. I didn't bother checking the wounded students as I felt like any Mage worth their salt should know some form of healing Magecraft.

Yep, I wasn't feeling vengeful in the slightest.

I passed through antique large halls and classes -some empty, while others had classes in session. With a faint sense of wonder, I could feel the Harry Potter theme splashing around me -especially with all the different kinds of Departments available.

This seemed different from the School of Sorcery and Witchcraft from back home. Ours was more practical, per se. But then again, I don't mind this atmosphere.

I do find myself quite liking it.

30 minutes later, and soon enough, I felt like I had seen enough of the Clock Tower for today and decided it was time to go and see the room I would be spending my upcoming years in.

... ... That was until I came across one very interesting event.

"You will not be the death of me, Flat Escardos!"

I was walking around the corner towards the source of the noise. I had come to see a man sharply dressed, sporting a rather comical scowl.

With a feverish face due to either anger or frustration, the man clamped a hand around a pale blond-haired boy's face who struggling to free himself.

Growling the man said, "How many times do I have to call you an idiot before you understand, Flat? 10? 20, hmm? Just tell me the number you want so that I can cure that stupid head of yours before you give me an ulcer."

Freeing himself with a gasp, the boy, Flat said unapologetically. "But Mister V—!"

"Don't call me that, you idiot." The man interrupted.

However, Flat continued as if he hadn't heard anything.

"You said that depending on how everything goes, the Mage Association would soon undergo a great change. So, of course, that got me interested… And again, there was this We-Wi-Wu... Ah, yes, Wakanda—Oomph!"

"... !"

In a feat of superhuman reflexes, the supposed Mister V shot out, clamping both his hands around Flat's mouth. The look on Mister V's face was one of a mixture of constipation and resignation.

"Urgh... Look, Flat... If you have any respect in that hollow yet filled skull of yours for me, then do not talk anymore of this matter, understood?"

Thankfully, for Mister V and his belly, Flat nodded. As soon as Mister V released his hand, he straightened his jacket, eyes scanning around—until, they met mine.

I smiled and dipped my head a bit, but that seemed to have spooked Mister V who unconsciously replicated with a deeper inclination, before holding both hands on Flat shoulders and pushing him away.

"Well, that's quite the experience," I commented to myself.

I was under no delusion that word of my coming hadn't reached the ears of the Mage Association top brass (I would have been disappointed if that weren't the case).

I expected all sorts of reactions; fear, anger, envy, greed... But never excitement.

And I've got to admit; this Mister V and Flat were an amusing due.

To the wind, I said. "New assignment; I want a full background on those 2 before evening. Depending on what I see, the decision on which Department I would study could be decided."

Something moved, but I continued without pause.

"Mister V... Heh."

ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ

Upon entering my Dorm, on the second floor, I walked pass another student who held many boxes in his hands while fumbling for the doorknob of his room.

A cursory glance gave me the feeling that he was just like me; a new student.

Following an internal deliberation, I stopped, walked towards the student, and helped him open the door.

"Here, let me help you," I said.

With a thankful mumble from the student, I helped the student pick up the remaining bags placed by the door and walked right in.

Now, let it be noted that normally, it is ill-advised for a Mage to enter another Mage's room. A Mage's room is a place where he keeps his closest items—in other words, it can be likened to his Workshop. And from what I'd heard, entering his room should have prompted a death-match right this instance.

But then again, he did let me in.

The student—russet hair, thin, wearing spectacled glasses- shook my hand and said. "Thanks for the help. I'm Caules. Caules Forvedge Yggdmillennia. A new student majoring in Modern Magecraft."

"T'Challa. Prin-..." I coughed to hide my slipup. "Ahem, I mean I'm a new student as well. My Major is... Well, undecided."

Caule's eyes widened as heard that. "Multiple offers?"

My confusion only lasted for an instant, before I understood what Caules had been inferring.

To enter the Clock Tower, one must pass a series of tests. Getting the required average means one can be able to enter the Department of his/her choice (that is IF one meets the requirements).

But in cases where one excels in the entrance exams, then such a person would be granted multiple offers from various departments.

From what I'd heard such kinds of persons were usually major mage family heirs, geniuses, and powerful affinity holders like 'Average Ones' or something of that sort.

Humming, I replied cryptically. "Well, something like that."

I didn't take the exams—per se, but I did have offers from all the Department of the Clock Tower. However, I am on the fence on which should I choose.

I'll admit that that Mister V and Flat duo crossed my mind. But... Well, depending on what I see in the evening. I'll make up my mind from there.

ᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥᴥ

After exchanging contacts with Caules, I left the room and headed straight to my own.

Fishing out the key and opening the room. I entered, regarding the place where I would be spending the next 4-5 years (depending on the events that would happen)…

I threw my bag over and splayed on the bed for a few minutes.

I just needed to get myself. It's been over 5 days since I'd left Wakanda and arrived in the World of Man—it's just as loud as I had expected it to be.

Wakanda is the same, but… Well, home is home.

"God, 5 days and I already miss them." Sighing, I sat up making an arcane hand sign. "Well, I better set everything up first."

⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

It is said that the act of manipulating mana to bring forth an unexplainable phenomenon is called 'Magic—Miracles'.

Due to the decline of Mysteries, which serves as a sort of spell enhancement (in rudimentary terms), the term, Magic, was exchanged for Magecraft—the act of bringing forth 'what can and could be done' through the use of 'spells and rituals'.

Apart from my home country, the number of those who could wield the impossible can be counted on one hand—and now, one more has been added.

Who I had been in my former life is of no importance.

But, the Gifts I had received from that being who had called himself, [Omnipotence]… That, well, that is of a greater imperative.

⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

Space rippled.

Those who have watched all Marvel Iterations, particularly that of the cinematic Dr Strange would understand what was happening.

The harnessing of an energy drawn straight from the Universe, itself.

A spell powered not by Od or Mana, but by the Infinite Expanse.

The standardized room changed into an opulent chamber. This was the manifestation of a pocket dimension to put it in simpler terms. This is one I had created for this very occasion.

Which simply put—is for my privacy and Workshop.

Entering this place is impossible as it could be classified as a texture in its own right, and in a place like this, I get the feeling that I'll need it…

Even though it's kind of an overkill.

The sun that peaked into the chamber was a fake one, there was nothing outside except the gawping Imaginary Space. But the light the fake sun provided is needed to normalize the environment if nothing else.

Taking a deep breath, I felt a part-set of my first Gift materialize around my neck.

The Eyes of Agamotto.

The Relic or in this World, Divine tier Mystic Code has its usage from all the Marvel Iterations... But, I'll leave the interpretations for later.

Walking and sitting on a chair by the window, I said."Idie, you can reveal yourself now."

A small cyclone manifested, blowing away the paper arranged on my table. Soon, the wind died down, leaving a striking braided hair woman his age, genuflecting.

"My Prince." Idie greeted.

Idie Okonkwo, her origins differed a bit compared to the comics. While her 'capabilities' held similarities to her Mutant counterpart, and also held ancestry from Nigeria, that was where it ended.

Her forbearers had helped a Wakandan Chieftain and in return for the help, had been granted passage as well as citizenship in Wakanda… At least, that's how the story goes.

"Stand up. For now, I am not a Prince, so don't treat me like one... It'll ruin the cover." Not like I had much in the first place. "Anyways, I hope your prolonged [wind riding] hadn't been tough on you."

Shaking her head, Idie replied. "Not at all, my Prin—I mean... T'Challa. Every Dora Milaje worth their salt ought to be capable of [wind riding, and it will be an insult when I, elected as your escort cannot perform such a simple spell."

'Simple, she says.' I thought, queasily.

[wind riding] as Idie said isn't hard to perform, and I won't deny its benefits; Presence Concealment, limited Magic Immunity, and a great boost for Wind spells.

But that damn spell is so hard to maintain.

I'd vomited my entire intestine the first time I'd tried to maintain it for 5 minutes.

M'Baku had spent the entire week laughing at my face for that.

Shivering, I looked at Idie, noting that she still appeared normal… Well, as normal as one can be, and shivered.

'She is a strong woman.'

Nevertheless, I don't think she's like Okoye (that scary woman), so I reckon sooner or later, the spell would affect her.

I can't have that now.

"Idie, change of plans. You'll be joining me as a student in this school, which means no more [wind riding] for you."

"But..."

"But nothing, I am your Prince and this is my order. Besides, I don't want to be seen talking to myself, it makes me look like a madman, and using Telepathy to talk while you're melded with the wind is very tiring."

Idie's opposition died at that. "If you wish so, my Prince."

"Good."

Whirling my seat, I picked up a paper sheet. On it were highly classified intel on the Clock Tower political culture.

Smirking, I said. "Now, how about we go over the Clock Tower's framework one more time and sort out our assets in it..."