48 Chapter 48: Minds Collide, History Repeats.

Tuesday November 20th, 2020. Wakanda, Africa…

Despite the chaos of the previous day, Bronte's night ended well. He got to spend it with his parents— and his siblings who'd grown into seemingly unrecognizable people at times. They were still afraid of him— they probably always would be. He could only imagine being their age, losing a brother, having your city turn into a war zone and then seeing him again 150lbs heavier with fang and claws.

Oh well. As long as they were good. Unaffected negatively by his biological fathers monsters.

He hadn't felt so good in years. Even if many hated him for the outcome of The Ceremony of The Second. It was time to move on and work with it. A storm was coming. And Bronte of all people could feel it perfectly on the horizon.

He went to sleep that night. Bast found him again— questioning his actions. For the first time— she didn't seem so angry. Just questioning. They didn't fight. They spoke, and he walked through Nekropolis as the previous generations of panthers stalked him in the trees. They still didn't show themselves to him. He was no panther anyway.

Waking up was less sweaty and feral and more calm and focused. Training was set to begin, starting with a meeting he was headed to currently.

As he walked the halls out of his room he was still adjusting his black v-neck t-shirt over his dense frame.

"Mornin, Brontosaur!" Raze said as he crawled the ceilings like a gecko above him.

"What's good." Bronte replied as he tied up his hair out of his face. "Don't do anything wild in this meeting."

"Don't topple the Wakandan government in this meeting….HAHAH!" Raze dropped from the ceiling and pulled open the window by the stairs leading to the main floor.

As the rest of his siblings exited their rooms, he and Raze took to the skies, flying to where the meeting was located.

Sometimes the morning winds were addictive.

***

After ten minutes passed, everyone was seated in a dark room with few lights and even fewer people. Only the important ones. Important in relation to the war coming.

Amongst the Elders, Bronte and his siblings sat— yet stood out all the same. Along with Gentle and Azari— both still wearing a few bandages but no other signs of damage held them. Brontë forgot normal healing rates so he could only guess that was a good sign. All seats filled except one.

Either way the meeting pushed on with T'Challa and Ororo at the head of the marble black table.

"You all know why you're here." He started, "We have a war coming that we must prepare for. And in saying that I must also remind you that a new enemy approaches. In my wife's defense, it is an Enemy that should be as old as the rest."

Ororo nodded fiercely as a holographic screen rose up to cover the wall they all faced.

A man showed himself on the screen, flying above the ocean on wings sprouting from his ankles. It somehow didn't look goofy when combined with his black animal bone and Vibranium laced armor.

"This is Namor." T'Challa started, "I've known him since i was only a child…."

Brontë and his siblings looked at eachother.

"Yes. He doesn't seem to be aging normally." T'Challa answered their suspicions. "His dominion of the waters may he infinite— but it dwindles in power with each passing generation. He wants Vibranium."

The holographic screen flipped to a shot from the skies of the water glowing— as if a bomb of blue brilliance and flame went off underneath the waves.

"We believe he's experiment— growing with his people. As we are here."

"Looks like he's fucking around down there…." Raze grumbled, followed by Gabbie flicking his forehead.

T'Challa cleared his throat, "That's what you'd think, but they live deep in the ocean. They're suited for it. The bones and skin— all of them is dense. Resistant to pressure. They have all the room in the world down there to test and develop devastating technology."

"So why hasn't he come to the surface yet? Like in a real way? What's up with the intimidation games? He just comes up for a moment and leaves." Daken interjected.

Gentle's fist clenched and the fabrics of his shirt looked ready to rip, "He doesn't just come up for air. He's attacked. He's done his fair share of damage already— just not to the Wakandan people as a whole. Only the Marube. He soaks our crops and damages any chances we have at supper for weeks."

The room grew silent.

Ororo touched her husbands hand, "Yea. We've made mistakes. I've been single minded in finding Bronte. But with you here— in this position, Gentle, we can address these things for what they are."

Gentle clenched his jaw, "Yea maybe."

"Namor hasn't made direct attacks because he still wishes for cohesion between us. But it's a farce…. As you may say in the west. The people of Talocan do not respect the surface. They want to destroy it actually, and once they get their Vibranium they will."

"How do you know that?" Bronte asked.

The screen changed again— this time to a video of a group of people raiding a boat. They were dressed like Namor. Bone and Vibranium armor with spears and shields. They ripped through the ship with ease and killed the men….. maliciously.

T'Challa turned up the volume, "The—SHZZSH!— —urface thinks it..—ZZSHSH— is allowed anywhere. Not forever. Not at all…"

"We'll that answers it." Gabbie whispered.

"Si." Laura replied.

"What about Namor." Bronte asked.

"What about him?" One of the Elders asked.

"Have you guys had any meetings with him?"

The Elders shook their heads, causing the jewels and bedallions on them to jingle in the silence.

"He's shown clear signs of violence. We're past the point of meetings." T'Challa replied.

"Ah…. We know someone like that." Raze said, followed by his stomach growling. Which was…. Interesting.

T'Challa nodded, "Speaking of."

The screen changed to the blurry image of a giant man with grey and black long slicked back hair and black nails in a suit that barely fit him.

"Romulus." They all said.

He was shaking hands with a man seen through part of a tinted window inside Oscorp. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know who he was talking to.

"Norman Osborn."

Ororo nodded. "Ever since Logan learned of his involvement in his life, he learned quickly afterward how deeply rooted into most large businesses and crime organizations he was. He started in New York since he learned of The Xavier Institute and Logan's involvement there. Just so happened that New York would evolve into the City of Heroes. But he's been to other places…. Many others. And we have an expert for that."

"We do?" Bronte questioned.

T'Challa took off his beaded bracelet and tossed it into the empty seat.

Slowly blue lights flickered in and out until the holographic form of a woman filled the seat.

The exact same woman from the bar. Only now she had fiery red hair, purple lipstick and the marking on her face was much more prominent. As were the fangs showcased when she smiled.

"Longtime no see, Bronte."

"Remus."