The situation on the battlefield had reached a boiling point.
Losses were mounting fast, and the U.S. command knew they could no longer afford restraint.
Whistles shrieked across the skies.
From the coast, carrier fleets unleashed hell wave after wave of guided missiles screaming toward Wakandan defenses. Every available payload from the battle group was launched in a coordinated barrage.
At the same time, fighter jets roared into the sky, executing emergency deployment protocols.
Despite the rapid escalation, the outcome wasn’t what the U.S. military had expected.
At the command of W’Kabi, Wakandan troops swiftly realigned. The back ranks reinforced the outer energy shield, which shimmered like liquid light across the field.
Missile after missile crashed into the dome each explosion a rolling sunburst across the savannah. And yet... not a single Wakandan fell.
The shield held. Not even a scratch.
From above, Wakandan ships, graceful, silent, and deadly, began intercepting missiles mid-air. In seconds, the sky turned into a battlefield of lights as intercepted warheads bloomed like fireworks and rained harmless debris.
General Ross was out of cards.
So he stopped holding back.
He deployed every classified unit he’d developed:
The Iron Flesh Battalion
Thermal Shock Troopers
The Sentinel Drones aerial hunters built to bring down Wakandan ships.
Ross had taken tech from AIM, Trask Industries, and the OsCorp archives, and turned them into a patchwork army of experimental supers.
Now, the battlefront shifted again. Wakanda’s advance slowed.
Inside his armor, Tony growled, "Connect me to Ross. Now."
The screen flashed to life.
Ross’s face appeared, scowling.
"Stark? You’re siding with Wakanda now? Going against your own country?"
"You call this a righteous war?" Tony snapped. "You’re invading a sovereign nation!"
"They broke the treaty!" Ross barked. "We have missing U.S. citizens near their border, and now this weapons of mass destruction! Look at that Sonic tech! That’s a global threat!"
Ross’s voice grew louder, desperate. "They lied to the international community. They’ve been secretly developing WMDs violating every accord they signed after Vienna!"
"You mean they’ve defended themselves," Tony shot back.
Ross narrowed his eyes. "Keep this up, Stark, and you’ll be branded a traitor. Betray your country, and even your billions won’t protect you from the fallout."
Tony didn’t flinch. "I don’t take orders from war criminals."
He cut the feed. "Friday, deploy the War Armor Division."
Above the battlefield, a massive carrier uncloaked. Rows of gleaming red-and-gold figures dropped from the sky Stark’s private Iron Legion.
On the ground, Captain America stood with his shield ready. He exchanged a look with Tony.
The battlefield cracked open as Earth’s mightiest heroes entered the fray.
From a tall tower within Oscorp’s Manhattan headquarters, Nolan Shen watched it all unfold through a projection feed.
"Impressive," he murmured.
He had predicted Ross’s tactics.
What intrigued him was Wakanda’s response.
Energy cannons, adaptive shields, sonic resonance pulses—the vibranium nation had become an apex predator in the arms race.
"This is the true power of integration," Nolan mused. "They’ve turned tradition and science into weapons."
Behind him, Sphinx knelt, speaking softly. "Sir, Capitol Hill is debating whether to authorize a tactical nuke."
Nolan raised an eyebrow. "Good. Push them to approve it."
Sphinx hesitated. "You... want them to nuke Wakanda?"
"I want to see how far Wakanda can really go," he said quietly. "This? This isn’t even their final form."
Sphinx swallowed hard. "You believe they’re still hiding more?"
"They are," Nolan said with eerie calm. "Their tech isn’t their strongest asset."
Sphinx stared. "Then what is?"
Nolan looked out the window, his voice almost reverent.
"Not like Hive," Nolan said, waving dismissively. "I have Hive’s remains in a containment vault downstairs."
Sphinx paled. "Then what kind of god?"
Nolan’s gaze darkened.
"A true one. One tied to their bloodline. To their kings. A god who answers when they call."
He didn’t know if his soul-level power in the Psionic Realm could match such a being. Even the Ancient One had given no clear answers.
So for now, Nolan wouldn’t act.
And when the time came he’d decide whether the Black Panther’s god was something to challenge... or something to claim.
"Play the long game," he whispered.
"Survive now. Strike when it matters."
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