In Cairo, Egypt, aside from the royal city Apocalypse had forged from earth, stone, and steel gathered out of thin air, the desolate, ruined urban remains were gradually being cleared and rebuilt with the aid of Egypt's barely cobbled-together government and the international community.
In the cataclysmic disaster that had shaken heaven and earth, countless Cairo citizens had been killed or injured. Corpses littered the ancient city, which had nearly become a realm of ghosts.
Official supernatural forces and organizations from every nation, along with relatively orderly hidden supernatural groups from around the world, had all arrived at the Pyramid Royal City on time at James Howlett's invitation.
Beyond the encampments of those supernatural organizations, the vast royal plaza was packed with mutants, wealthy figures of considerable influence, and members of the powerful elite. It was even surprisingly orderly, with food, lodging, and every other necessity provided.
No one would refuse the chance to witness this unprecedented grand gathering in the history of human civilization. The world of supernatural powers, once half-hidden from view, had been laid almost naked before all humanity.
"Father, there are so many people here."
The sharp-eyed Black boy wore tribal garments patterned with colorful checks and stripes. Like his father, T'Chaka, he wore Wakanda's traditional leather sandals as they approached the outer perimeter of the central pyramid palace. The line waiting to enter was exceptionally long.
Tilting his head, the boy looked at the man guarding the entrance. The dark-blue light combat armor the man wore was nowhere near as extraordinary as his father's Black Panther armor, but it still looked imposing and heroic.
An executive of Order Whip looked over the national political and diplomatic credentials handed to him. Seeing no black "invitation," he frowned and muttered:
"Wa... Wakandan King, Black Panther T'Chaka? Where