Chapter 15: Chapter 15 Trail of the mind
The Queen tilts her head a bit at that, giving me a sidelong look.
"And yet, with all that power that you have hoarded for yourself in your hunger for yet more power, haven't you had the means to change that world? Preventing such a tragedy from happening in the first place?"
At that I turn towards her, my face drawn in rage.
"Don't you dare give me that crap! How long has Wakanda sat on its advanced technology? How many cures were withheld from the rest of the world? How many wars could have been prevented? How many lives, over thousands of years, could have been saved had Wakanda not decided to retreat into the shadows, hiding underneath the safety of their force-field, closing its eyes to the pain of the world?!"
The Queen rears back as if slapped, before her nostrils widen in fury, a fire exploding in her eyes (in the figural sense, not the literal Extremis-version), but as she opens her mouth she seems to think on my words, and slowly deflates, gazing at the now softly sniffling mother with a drawn expression on her face.
"Perhaps our ancestors were wrong to hide our nation; perhaps it takes far more than just a single person or even a country to change the world. It would take everyone working together towards a better tomorrow, in order to make sure that such a pain-filled world shall become a thing of the past. Wouldn't you agree?"
Both of us remain silent as the mother, now with no more tears to shed, shakily stands up, lifting her sleeping daughter in her arms, shuffling back inside the small home.
"Perhaps. The world isn't so easily healed, not even with the legendary powers of Vibranium." I concede.
"But there is one thing where you are wrong, Mr. McCole. You assume you bear no guilt to this woman's hurt, because that is simply the world she lives in. But what about those who do not live in such a world, who believe that such pain is not something that they should ever had to live with?"
Before I can ask what she means, the scenery blurs by once again, but this time I managed to resist the breakneck speeds a bit better, and other than missing a step when we arrive, I've come out reasonably unruffled.
The Queen of course still emits an air of regal perfection, not a single hair out of place.
We have arrived in a graveyard, and a little bit further down the gravel path I can see a small group of people clustered around a hole in the ground, a coffin covered in flowers resting above it.
The sight of people in military dress-uniforms clues me into who is most likely inside the coffin.
Not waiting for Ramonda I make my way towards the group, and a picture of a smiling young man in army fatigues confirms my suspicion.
It's the guy who I stabbed in the throat with his own knife.
The moment flashes before my eyes, replaying the scuffle, the mad grab for the blade, and then blood spattering across the visor of my helmet.
One man steps forwards and with a choked voice tries to speak a few words, his face filled with grief and with a sudden start I realize I'm looking at the Frank Castle from 2011, before his family is killed and he is shot in the head and flat lined for a few seconds, before coming back to life, being literally too angry to die.
"Tom was, uhh. Tom was a real good kind of guy. You know? The kind of guy that didn't hesitate in having your back. That was Tom, that was."
As Frank tries to work through the eulogy, I let my eyes roam across the assembled people, seeing the woman and children in tears, while the men try to remain stoic, some of them having tear tracks on their faces.
I can hear Ramonda step up beside me, can feel her eyes on me, so I answer her question before she even gets the chance to ask it.
"Those three soldiers… they knew the life they chose, knew the risks involved. They might not have known they were going up against Blonsky as he was, but they were there at Cornwell University: they knew what gamma-monsters are capable of. I didn't want to kill them, but that's the reality of a fight."
Inclining her head to what appears to be Tom's wife, the Wakandan Queen's tone is colder than ice.
"I wonder what she would say to that. Or what anyone currently standing here would say."
I know what at least one of them will say: nothing at all.
Frank would just put a bullet between my eyes.
I remain silent as the music starts and the coffin with the soldier whose neck I slit is slowly lowered to the ground. It somehow feels wrong, watching that happen. Like the poor man is punished for dying, and gets trapped inside a box and buried in a dark, wet hole in the ground as a result.
Right then and there, I decide that if I do bite it (either by failing these challenges, or later down the road by Thanos-snap or Hulk-smash), then I'll ask to not be buried. Put my body in a pod and shoot it into the sun or something.
As the dull thuds of earth being thrown onto the coffin continue to drone on, I think to myself that I really don't care what happens to me during my quest for Omnipotence.
As long as it isn't this.
As the last shovel of dirt is thrown onto the fresh burial mound, Tom's wife has apparently used up all of her strength, falling into her chair with a soft, chocked up gasp. Frank is there, awkwardly gripping her shoulder, before glaring at where his Army buddy is now entombed, waiting to rot away while his family has to find a way to go on without him in their lives.
"We're gonna catch him Mary. The bastard that did this, he ain't getting away with it. Not with this. You hear me, Mary? Not with this he ain't." Frank murmurs to the woman, but she's completely unresponsive, hollow eyes fixed on the resting place of her husband.
The man that I took from her.
"Well, Mr. McCole. Where is your defence now?"
This time the silence stretches the longest of all since the Queen has taken me on this Christmas Carol rip off, but she refuses to break the silence, forcing me to work through my thoughts and emotions, to examine facets of my being that I had been comfortable with pushing away and out of sight.
It was torture, and I started to understand why Bast thought merely revisiting the people I had killed would suffice as the first trial.
Nobody likes being confronted with the worse sides of themselves.
"I stand by what I said. The man died in battle, knowing when he signed up that that would be a possibility. It's unfortunate that he died fighting me, and if I could do it over I would probably have done things differently, but the fact remained that he died and I got away with what I needed."
I believe in the words I tell her, but they feel hollow, even to my own ears.
Turning away from the grieving widow and fuming Hank, I look at Ramonda, my face lined with the weight of the decisions I have made now resting on my conscious.
"We're done here. Take me to the next one."
I almost expect the scene of our next location. We're standing in the Palace Hall in the Golden City of Wakanda. The hall isn't as crowded as when I, Erik and Klaue were led before T'Chaka, only about a dozen people standing in front of the throne.
And sitting on the throne, clad in royal robes and with burning eyes, sits Killmonger.
While I'm not surprised that Killmonger won his fight with T'Challa (the Herb puts a person on par with an Erskine-supersoldier. Extremis puts a person on par with an Iron Mansuit) I am somewhat surprised that the rest of the Wakandans didn't kill Erik on the spot after winning his fight.
These people really adhere to their traditions.
There are several people standing in front of Erik's throne, and from what I can make out of their muttered dialogue, I think that they have some sort of advisory role, and they seem to discuss the distribution of Vibranium, as well as production levels within Wakanda.
A man I don't recognize is standing next to Erik, holding a hushed conversation with him, though since I'm currently on a different plane than them I simply walk up to the pair unseen.
"Another operative lost, Your Highness, in China this time. Apparently one of ours got into a fight with a Loyalist War Dog and they both blew their cover, so Hong Kong came in and killed them both in a massive shoot-out."
Killmonger growls deep in his chest, and smoke starts to come from his robes at his increased anger.
"How many War Dogs does that make?"
"Fifteen Your Highness. It appears that your cousin has managed to make contact with several groups of War Dogs while we were still containing the damage to the city, and intends to wage a guerrilla war against your reign."
Letting out a deep breath of air (hot enough to force the advisor to back away a few steps), Erik folds his hands underneath his chain, a thoughtful frown on his face as he considers his options.
"And the status within Wakanda?"
"We have the power, my lord, as we control both the military and the mining and production operations. The outer tribes bow to your victory over your cousin and recognize you as leader of the Golden Tribe, but within the city… the former king, may Bast guide his soul, was much beloved, Your Highness. Of course, the reveal of his crimes has done much to correct that, but people's hearts are not so easily swayed."
"Do we need to fear a revolt?"
"Not unless they receive an outside backer, my lord. The return of your cousin, or one of those foreign dogs that have been sniffing around our borders. But for now, your reign is secure as King. There are quite a few people who have always viewed Wakanda's retreat from the world as a mistake. We are eager for you to lead us out of the darkness and take our rightful place upon the world-stage."
As Ramonda walks past me, my attention is dragged away from the fruits of my labour, following the Queen's stricken gaze and my eyes land on a furious looking Shuri who is hiding in the shadows at the back of the hall.
As Erik desperately tries to consolidate his power in a land which apparently thought that a duel for the throne was a legitimate way of succession, Shuri merely turns around and runs out of the Hall, feet slapping against the tiles with tears streaming down her face.
Ramonda immediately follows her daughter, not sparing anyone else (including me) a second glance, and with some idea of what's about to come, I follow the Queen through her Palace, passing both flurries of activity and passageways that are completely abandoned.
It takes nearly fifteen minutes of walking, during which neither one of us has spoken so much as a word, before we arrive at a room in what I'm guessing is the wing housing the living quarters of the Golden Tribe.
Without breaking her stride, Ramonda walks straight through the closed door, the ebony wood rippling slightly as she does, but otherwise showing no effect. After a second of hesitation I clench my jaw, close my eyes, and step through the door as well.
When I open my eyes again, I'm confronted with what I expected to see.
A crying Shuri, who is running around her room in a whirlwind of hurried movements, stuffing a large back-pack to the brim with various odds and ends whose functions I cannot even begin to guess at.
While Shuri sobs as she grabs a photo picturing her family with shaking hands, I turn towards the Queen, who is displaying the first sign of emotion during my entire trial, her lip quivering and a single tear rolling down her face.
This time she doesn't ask me a question, and I allow her the small comfort of silence as we look on as her little girl runs to her sheets and starts ripping them up.
It's clear: we're looking at a break-out.
Shuri's escape is even impressive on some level, since she managed to get out of her room and down two floors before she gets spotted by a guard, who sounds the alarm. I suspect that Shuri knows the palace like the back of her hand though, because even with her vision blurred by tears, she manages to evade patrols by hiding in all kinds of nooks and crannies that I hadn't even realized were there.
She even uses three secret passage ways on her mad dash out of the Palace.
After nearly twenty minutes of following the fleeing child, me and Ramonda having no trouble keeping up with her daughter, Shuri finally managed to escape the Palace by using a barely used service corridor which opened out at the back of the complex.
From there she abandoned all stealth and just sprinted towards the treeline, hiding in its underbrush even as Killmonger's guards were still turning the Palace upside down.
After her successful escape, me and Ramonda kept following the little girl for the next two days, and during that time, the Queen hadn't once taken her eyes of her daughter that she could never hold in her arms again.
It was on the third day that happened what I assumed the Queen had intended to show me all along, though she had dropped us in early, probably not being able to control herself wanting to see more of her daughter one last time.
Because on the third day, Shuri fell into a trap.
It was even such a ridiculous movie-trap as well, the one where a character steps on a hidden mechanism and suddenly they find themselves strung up in a net like the world's weirdest piñata.
Ramonda stiffened when her daughter was hoisted in the air, screaming in fear and shock as she went, but the Queen actually growled and bared her teeth when a familiar figure stepped out from the underbrush.
"Well well. What do we have here?" Ulysses Klaue asks with a grin as he looks at the Wakandan princess.
"Let me go!" Shuri cries, but it just makes Klaue laugh, which in turn causes Ramonda to clench her fists.
"Now, why would I go and do something like that, little girl?" the arms dealer asks, scratching the beard that has been growing since his flight from the Wakandan capital.
Briefly Shuri is silenced, before her eyes flash across Klaue's outfit, the bags under his eyes, the way his pants are loose around his hips, his chapped lips. Then she grins triumphantly.
"Because I can show you the way out."
Klaue narrows his eyes in suspicion, slowly approaching his catch, his remaining hand resting on the machete he has hanging in his belt.
"What you mean with that girl?"
"You're lost aren't you?"
Klaue growls at the question, but it just causes Shuri's smile to grow even wider.
"You are, aren't you?"
"Oh give me a break, kind, it's been thirty years since the last time I had to run away from Wakanda, and I didn't exactly had the time to take in the scenery then." Klaue mutters annoyed, but Shuri doesn't seem to even care she's pissing off a world class criminal that currently has her captured.
"But I do know the way! I know all the ways into and out of Wakanda! You cut me down and take me with you, and I'll lead you away from here."
"And why would a little girly like you be so desperate as to be willing to come along with a vicious thief like meself in order to run away from her comfy life in the palace, eh?" Klaue asks mockingly, though I can see the gleam of interest in his eyes as he's suddenly presented with the option of having a guide out of this endless jungle.
At the man's question, Shuri's lip starts wavering, while tears start welling up in her eyes. Furiously wiping her sleeve across her face, the 11-year old haltingly answers the arms dealer.
"There's nothing there for me. Killmonger almost killed by brother until my dad threw himself on that creep… and then my brother had to go and run, father was begging him to, even as he was holding down Killmonger… A-and then, K-Killmonger killed him… And I didn't even see it, because this, t-this monsterkidnapped me and mom! And he… and he… he k-killed her too. I lost… everything." The little girl softly says, her speech interrupted by hiccups and sobs.
Klaue is remarkably silent throughout it all, though I can almost see the gears in his head whirring away at top speed. Then apparently having settled on a course, he grabs the machete and in a single swing-
"NO!"
-slams it through the rope that had been holding up the net Shuri had been caught in, letting her fall to the forest floor with a squawk.
I glance at Ramonda from the corner of my eye, seeing her arms outstretched as if to stop Klaue's swing, before she slowly lowers them, her attention completely focused on her daughter, who has freed herself from the tangles of the net that covered her, standing in front of Klaue in torn clothes, with twigs in her hair and mud caked on her face.
For a moment there's silence in the small clearing, before Klaue bends down on one knee, his tone softer than I had ever imagined the criminal even capable of.
"That monster. The monster that took you and your mamma? He took something from me as well."
"What?"
Lifting the stump of his arm, Klaue gives a chuckle at the girl's wide-eyed look of shock.
"He took my arm, threatening to take even more if I didn't give him all of my treasure. It took me thirty years to gather it all and then one night, that monster walks in and takes my arm and my treasure. But…"
"But…?" Shuri asks, having fallen for Klaue's sob story hook, line and sinker, causing the criminal to show yellowed teeth in a vicious grin.
"But I think we can help each other. You see, kind, you know all of the passages into and out of Wakanda, but how much do you know about the rest of the world? Not much, I imagine."
Fire sparks in Shuri's eyes, and the girl places her tiny fists on her hips.
"I know lots! I know all the names of all the countries and places!"
"Bah, that's just boring school stuff! But do you know the realparts of the world? Where all the real borders are? Which area is claimed by which Cartel? Where crime ends, and government begins?"
At that, Shuri gives a hesitant shake, and Klaue gives an indulgent smile, though I can see the ruthlessness in his eyes as he keeps up his act.
"The world out there is dangerous, kind. But I can help you. Keep you safe. All I need, is one thing, just this tiny little thing, why it's not even worth mentioning really…"
"What is it? What do you need?"
At Shuri's question, Klaue glances around with exaggerated motions, before leaning in a little bit closer, giving her a come-hither motion, and the naïve Princes leans in as well.
"Access. I need access to Wakanda, or at the very least its tech."
Almost reflexively a frown settles on Shuri's face, but Klaue immediately straightens, brushing the little girl off as he turns around, one hand rubbing his neck as he muses out loud.
"Ach, what am I saying. There's no way a little girl like you could help me with that. After all, I need it for a secret, a very big secret, and little girls really wouldn't be able to help me with it…"
Indignation flashes in Shuri's eyes at the dismissal, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"Sure I can help! I'm the smartest person I know! Tell me your secret! Tell me!"
Half-turning with lidded eyes, Klaue lets out smile at the fuming child.
"Oh, I was going to try and kill that monster."
Giving a theatrical sigh while Shuri's eyes widen in shock, Klaue turns his back on her again, shaking his head in defeat.
"But I can't kill him with what I have now. No, no, that wouldn't work at all. To kill a monster that dangerous, well, that would require some really powerful weapons. Weapons like, say Wakanda has perhaps? But it's no use, obviously you can't help me, and without your knowledge of Wakanda I'll never be able to get it. Ah well, I guess I just have to give up and let the monster go-"
"NO!"
From where we're standing, me and Ramonda can see the cruel smile from on the criminals face, before he schools it into a wondering, innocent expression, turning back around to face the murderous looking eleven-year-old.
"No? What 'no'?"
"I won't let him get away. I'm gonna kill him." Shuri hisses, and I can tell that the sheer anger and conviction in the child's tone takes even Klaue off guard, though he barely lets it show.
"Really? My what a coincidence! But no, no, no, I can't let a little girl try and kill that monster! I used to be a criminal, but I'm not evil! No, you cannot help me-"
"Yes I can! I'll lead you in and out of Wakanda, so you can get what you need to kill him. But I have one condition." Shuri demands and Klaue gives an indulgent chuckle, victory shining in his eyes.
"What's your condition then kind?"
Shuri surprises all adults present when she fearlessly walks up to the arms dealer and pokes him in the chest with her tiny finger.
"You help me get stronger. The best teachers. The best weapons. I'm good with inventing, so you promise to get me what I need for it. And when you track down the monster that killed mom, you'll take me with you."
Klaue is silent at the Princess' declaration, and I can see some measure of respect rise within him as he stares at the amount of determination the little girl is displaying. After a few tense seconds, he gives a reluctant nod, holding out a grimy hand for Shuri to shake.
"Deal."
There's no hesitation as Shuri slips her hand in Klaue's bigger one, her grip firm and steady.
"Deal."
And with a shake of their hands, Klaue straightens and turns away from the little girl and walks slowly into the underbrush.
"Well? You coming? The monster isn't going to wait for us to show up and kill it you know?"
"Wait, I'm coming, I'm coming!" Shuri calls after the arms dealer, picking up her dirtied back-pack and running off after him.
"You know, I should walk in front. I'm the one who knows the way after all." The girl's voice drifts back to me and Ramonda, Klaue giving a rumbling answer we can't make out, though Shuri's indignant squeak reaches us clearly.
And then the clearing is still and silent.
For about a second.
Then Ramonda whirls around, slapping me across the face.
As I rub my dimly stinging cheek (absently noting that, like with the visuals of my Astral Projection, this sensation to seemed to come from very far away in an angle that hurts to think about) the Queen Mother stands in front of me, her entire form trembling with rage.
"And what excuse do you have for this?! How will you rationalize throwing my country in disarray? How can you possibly justify driving my daughter in the arms of such a disgusting thief?"
I wait with answering the irate Queen until she's managed to collect herself a bit, though the anger doesn't fade from her eyes.
"I needed to know what your people knew about Vibranium. Howard Stark was one of the smartest people of his time, and all that he managed to do with the Vibranium he had on hand was turn it into a Frisbee."
Granted, that Frisbee had gone on to become the most iconic weapon both in this universe and my old one, but still.
"I'm not in this to save the planet, Your Highness, but neither do I want to end up standing amongst its ashes. My entry into your country would either result in Erik's immediate death, in which case I would have to run like hell. If he was allowed within ten feet of your husband however, then either he would kill him or be killed. Either way he would provide ample distraction and he has. Him actually managing to claim the throne is not something I had expected, but that is a result of your customs and traditions, not a fault of my own."
Clearly the Queen isn't convinced by my arguments if her flaring nostrils are anything to go by, so I try a different approach.
"Think of it this way. After consolidating his powerbase, Killmonger will most likely try to expand: there's no better way for a ruler to become popular than having a couple of victories under his belt. Now, I have no idea how much he'll end up conquering and honestly I don't much care, but I can guarantee that the living conditions within his borders will be vastly better than they are currently in those areas. But with the rise of Wakanda comes a rise of tech-levels in those countries, while an increase in the length of her borders means more and more people slipping through the cracks, taking technology back to their own people to reverse-engineer. As a whole, the development of the world will increase."
"At what cost? Global conflict on a scale that we have only seen twice before? How much blood must be spilt before the 'positives' of your plan become reality for those other than yourself?" the Queen spits at me, and though I struggle to put my answer in words, I can feel my conviction growing as I reflect on all that I have done in this universe.
"There has never been advancement in this world that hasn't been achieved at the expense of someone else. That's just the Law of Equal Exchange. And I will advance myself further and further at the expense of whoever stands in my way. And when all is said and done, and I stand victorious above the broken bodies of the most terrible evils in this dimension? Then Earth shall have the greatest champion in the entire goddamned universe. That's their positive, your Highness."
The Queen draws back at my answer, a disapproving look on her face, but I merely feel confidence as my answer truly sinks in with me.
I had been so focused on gathering personal power that I had lost sight of any long-term goals. I was going to need a purpose beyond becoming omnipotent, or within months of actually achieving that level of power I'd probably try to blow my own brains out in order to try and alleviate the boredom.
The likes of the Collector and the Grandmaster had possibly only survived since the beginning of the universe by being consumed by their obsession to the point it governed every moment of their immortal lives.
Becoming a champion to Earth seemed like as good a way as any to spend the rest of my infinite time in this universe.
I feel something click (it's hard to put into words, but there's definitely something shifting in the metaphysical manifestation of my soul) inside me as my realization fully sets in and I can see Ramonda respond to it as well, her lips thinning to the point they're one flat line.
"You have faced your past deeds and remained firm in your resolve. You are ruthless, but not without mercy. You are guilt-free, but not incapable of remorse. Bast has judged you, and you have not been found wanting. You have completed your first trial."
I suppose that hearing that I was half-way there to not getting my soul obliterated by an irate Panther Goddess should have me jumping with joy, but as I'm emotionally strung out, I simply give the Queen a serious nod.
Ramonda glares at me with an unreadable expression on her face, before turning her head away from me, looking at where her daughter ran off after Klaue in her quest for vengeance.
"My daughter will come for you. She's smart, far smarter than anyone I know. If she's allowed to grow, then she'll eventually be able to hunt you down. She will kill you."
She glances at me as she speaks and I can hear her unspoken question.
Will I go after her daughter and put a stop to her before she becomes a danger to me?
It's not that I don't consider it at all, but I rather quickly decide against doing so. For all that she might become a threat to me later, right now she's a kid. An angry, scared and hurt kid that wants my head on a platter, but still just a kid.
Then there's also the fact that I'd have to track her down first. I don't know if the scenes that Ramonda have shown me are all in the past or in real-time. Hell, given the weirdness of this dimension and the fact a God is involved, there's even a chance I'm looking at the future. Which means I have absolutely no clue where she and Klaue currently are, or where they will end up going and considering the bee-hive Africa has become, I rather get out of here sooner than later.
So let her grow; I would as well. And in five to ten years, we would see which one of us had grown the most.
So I merely shrug at Ramonda's words, and repeat the words I had told Killmonger what seemed to be so long ago.
"She will try."
Apparently catching the hidden meaning of my answer, the Queen merely gives a nod, her eyes still fixed on where her daughter disappeared as she addresses me.
"I go to the Green Veld now, where my soul shall join my ancestors and my beloved husband. We shall be waiting for the arrival of our children, but mark my words, Michael McCole. If our daughter joins us before her time, there will be hell to pay."
I open my mouth to respond, but Ramonda cuts me off, as both she and our surroundings start to fade away into infinite darkness again.
"I leave you to your next trial, Mr. McCole. It shall begin… now."
And with that word, the darkness around me disappears as sound and colour rush back in against and I fall to my knees in golden sand. As I hurriedly glance around, I find myself in an arena of some kind, though all of the stands are completely empty and the utter silence is deafening.
"ARE YOU PREPARED TO FACE THE TRIAL OF THE BODY, PLANEWALKER?" Whirling around I see Bast lying down in a separate section of the stands, reminding me somewhat of where Roman Emperors are always portrayed as sitting in arenas.
As I look around in confusion, the gate on the other end of the arena suddenly gives a loud groan of tortured metal before it slowly begins to rise up, dust and sand falling down in thin streams.
Within the gaping maw of the arena I can see two orange flames light up in the darkness, before they slowly come closer to the sands of the arena, finally stepping into the light, making me gasp in shock as I fully see my opponent.
It's me.
Or rather, that darker side of me that had begun to crop up more and more since enhancing myself with Hulk-blood. Instead of appearing like my original body like my Astral Projection does, it looks like my new body still currently lying on a table in the middle of nowhere, but… meaner looking somehow.
The skeleton is even more pronounced, and instead of merely glowing veins its entire skin is burning a reddish colour, while its eyes seem to actually be two pools of liquid fire. It snarls at me, showing pointed teeth and a slobbering tongue, but it's held back by enormous chains made of shadow which stretch back into the darkness behind it.
But it shouldn't be here! It shouldn't be separate from me, right?! Sure I had gotten more aggressive since taking in two serums which had shown to be detrimental to a person's emotional stability, but so far Bruce Banner had been the only one to actually develop a completely separate identity.
"What the hell is this?" I whisper in shock, but Bast has clearly heard me, as she gives a deep rumbling chuckle that shakes the stands with its sheer presence.
"ENHANCING YOURSELF WITH SERUMS AS YOU HAVE DONE HAS FED THE DARKNESS INHERENT IN ALL CREATURES. EMPOWERING YOURSELF WITH MAGIC MERELY GAVE IT FORM AND SENTIENCE."
At that, the monster in front of me strains against his shackles, letting out a roar powerful to blast the sand around its feet away.
"WELL. FORM AT THE VERY LEAST." Bast says with a dismissive turn of her head.
"But how?! Blonksy went mad from Hulk's blood, yes, but hedidn't get an alter-ego. And whatever else happened to Killian's brain after Extremis, he didn't have that inside it!" I scream, pointing at the frothing manifestation of my rage.
"TRUE ENOUGH. BUT THEN, NEITHER ONE OF THEM INGESTED A MYSTICALLY ATTUNED HERB AND THEN ENTERED THE ASTRAL PLANE WITH THE SOUL OF A PLANEWALKER. YOU ARE SOMETHING UNIQUE, AND IT SHALL BRING ABOUT YOUR DOWNFALL."
I gape like a fish out of water at the words of the Panther Goddess, my eyes glued to dark manifestation of my internal rage, before I manage to choke out a question.
"What are you even saying? Magic gave it life?"
In response, Bast shifts one her perch, turning her blazing eyes one me.
"FOR A CERTAIN DEFINITION OF LIFE. MAGIC IS A COSMIC FORCE OF UNIMAGINABLE POWER AND UNKNOWABLE RULES. MANEFESTING EMOTIONS SUCH AS WILLPOWER, FEAR, HOPE AND EVEN RAGE ARE NOT THINGS THAT ARE OUTSIDE THE REALMS OF WHAT IT IS CAPABLE OF."
Straightening from her seated position, Bast places one enormous claw on the hewn stone in front of her, bending her billowing form forwards a bit in order to better trap me with her burning gaze.
"ENOUGH TALK. THIS SHALL BE YOUR SECOND TRIAL: SURVIVE."
And with those words, the shadowy chains fall away from the manifestation, and it blasts across the sand of the arena, slamming into me with all the might of a freight-train. The hit throws me clear across the rest of the arena and embeds me in the towering wall that lines the sand.
As it sprints towards me for a second hit, all I can do is feebly lift up my arms in defence, but it proves useless as it ignores my guard completely and sends its burning fist straight into my face.
And all I know is pain.
Fun Fact: Marvel Comics founder Martin Goodman tried to talk Stan Lee and Steve Ditko out of introducing Spider-Man because he insisted that kids hate spiders.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone