Seven large transport planes belonging to the U.S. Army landed one after another on the runway of a base somewhere in Kansas.
William Stryker, leaning on a cane, had finally gotten his hair trimmed. He still wore that old-style U.S. military uniform, but compared to his previous vagrant-like appearance, he looked far more spirited.
The cabin door of the first plane to land slowly opened. Two tall young men draped in traditional Wakandan striped cloaks strode out carrying bundles on their backs. Before T'Chaka, they clenched their fists and struck them against their shoulders at the same time.
"T'Challa, N'Jadaka, once the raw ore has been unloaded, this plane will take you back."
"Father, N'Jadaka and I aren't leaving. We're staying to fight beside you."
Wakanda's prince T'Challa and his cousin N'Jadaka set down their luggage, clearly having no intention of returning.
"Your Majesty, before we departed, High Priest Zuri brought out the last two heart-shaped herbs he had preserved. He said that with Wakanda's fate having reached this point, traditions and rules no longer mattered. T'Challa and I will face that 'Nightmare' with you."
The old Black Panther's gaze passed over his son and nephew's shoulders, settling on the enormous quantity of raw Vibranium shipped from Wakanda.
After the Howlett Family had moved away the mountain of raw Vibranium ore, they had not completely stripped Wakanda of the ore its people had already mined and stored away.
Though they still possessed a considerable stockpile, Wakanda had not dared to use Vibranium as extravagantly as before for forging weapons and conducting technological research over the past half-century.
Without Vibranium resources, the Wakandans had to live frugally while also dealing with forces from the outside world that did not dare provoke the Howlett Group and instead set their sights on Wakanda