The nights in Wakanda are not peaceful.
Inside the Royal Library, the soft glow of a holographic projection illuminated a focused profile.
Barbara Minerva is studying intently, her fingers flying across the screen.
Those ancient Wakanda scripts, which looked like gibberish, were being dismantled and reassembled at an astonishing speed in her eyes.
"Tsk, its grammar and logic overlap with the ancient Egyptian language family by 30%, the rest is nothing but meaningless religious embellishment."
She sneered inwardly, but outwardly maintained an almost devout thirst for knowledge.
Three days.
In just three days, she not only devoured thousands of years of Wakanda's history, but also memorized the few books on the Black Panther God Worship Ceremony that had been shelved.
This learning speed is an overclocked brain granted by the " Vought " gene enhancement, but in the eyes of the Wakanda, it is irrefutable proof of bloodline awakening.
"Incredible."
A heartfelt exclamation broke the silence.
T'Challa stood in the Shadow of the bookshelf, holding two bottles of regenerating beverages that glowed blue.
The Wakanda prince looked at Barbara as if she were a priceless treasure.
"Even Shuri spent more than half a month mastering these variant Xhosa sentence structures back then. You... it's as if this knowledge was already engraved in your bones, just waiting for a key to unlock it."
"Perhaps it's because... I'm too eager to understand this place."
She took the drink T'Challa offered, her fingertips inadvertently touching the back of his hand before she recoiled as if electrocuted.
"Every word, every piece of history, makes me feel a step closer to that empty home. This feeling... is wonderful."
T'Challa's heart skipped a beat.
Look! What a pure and innocent heart this is!
Who dares to say she's an outsider? Can such a deep attachment to her homeland be faked?
"Let's go." T'Challa suppressed his emotions and extended his hand. "Father and Zuri Priest Zuli are waiting for you in the Ancestral Hall. Tonight is the final test— the Soul Trial."
"Trial..." Barbara's body trembled slightly.
"Don't be afraid," T'Challa said gently. "As long as you have a clear conscience, Bast will protect every child."
Barbara lowered her head.
magnanimous?
Ha, the demons in my heart are more numerous than the population of your area.
The long corridor leading to the ancestral hall was deep and solemn.
The Vibranium pillars on either side are engraved with the life stories of the Black Panther throughout history, and the dim purple light casts long shadows of the two figures.
Faintly, one could hear the patrolling guards whispering amongst themselves.
"Have you heard? That homecoming player broke General Okoye's record in the simulation battle!"
"Shh! Keep your voice down! High Priest Zuri said in private that she returned with a divine oracle, and even those arrogant Border Tribe warriors now give her a salute when they see her."
"He truly is God's chosen one..."
The sound faded into the distance.
Barbara was in a good mood.
This feeling of being elevated to S.H.I.E.L.D..
This is the art of "creating gods".
If you act convincingly enough, your followers will cover up your lies and even add a layer of sacred aura to your image.
"Arrive."
T'Challa stopped in his tracks.
A statue of Bast, the Panther God, carved from a single block of Vibranium, stood in the darkness, coldly watching the intruder.
Zuri Priest Zuli, dressed in a purple priestly robe and holding a scepter, stood at the foot of the statue.
King T'Chaka stood to one side, his expression solemn.
"Come forward, child."
Zuri's voice echoed in the hall.
Barbara walked barefoot onto the altar.
She could feel the Vibranium floor beneath her feet releasing some kind of high-frequency pulse, a defense mechanism Wakanda used to detect lies and the purity of souls.
Kneel down.
Barbara obediently knelt down, her forehead pressed against the metal floor.
" Bast is watching you." Zuri raised his scepter, sprinkling purple herbal powder into the brazier, smoke rising. "If your soul is corrupted by the filth of the outside world, the Panther God will unleash thunder; if you are a bloodline that has strayed and repented, the God will bestow glory upon you."
"Buzz--!"
The statue's eyes emitted a blinding white light, and a powerful magnetic field enveloped Barbara.
It's here!
Barbara's face, buried in the ground, was slightly contorted.
It wasn't acting; it really hurt.
The program set up by that madman Sinclair was triggered precisely. The liquid Vibranium deposited in the gaps between her bones did not become disordered due to the magnetic field pressure; instead, it began to vibrate in an orderly manner.
This vibration was transmitted through her skin, causing intense friction with the surrounding magnetic field.
"Ugh..."
Barbara let out a muffled groan of pain.
"Is she resisting?" T'Challa stepped forward, looking nervous.
"No! That's resonance!"
T'Chaka stopped his son, staring intently at the center of the altar.
A miracle occurred.
A layer of golden and purple light burst forth from her body.
The halo wasn't chaotic; instead, it vaguely coalesced behind her into a blurry, beast-like outline—a roaring cheetah.
"This..."
T'Chaka took a step forward, but was forced back by that divine energy.
The scepter in Zuri's hand clattered to the ground.
The high priest, who had served the gods his entire life, stared wide-eyed, his whole body trembling.
"A miracle..." Zuri murmured to himself, "This... this is divine choice! Only those with the most ancient bloodlines can manifest the form of the Cheetah under Bast's gaze!"
" Black Panther... Cheetah share the same origin!"
The halo grew stronger and stronger, lifting Barbara into the air.
She painfully tilted her head back in the light, her long hair flying wildly.
Genetic mutations and energy radiation are all reduced to divine will in the face of religious fanaticism.
"She is the agent!" Zuri suddenly knelt down and kowtowed heavily in Barbara's direction. "She is the messenger sent back by Bast to warn us! Wakanda has been closed off for too long. God is using her to tell us that the outside world is full of pain and power!"
T'Chaka looked at his "daughter" in the light, his eyes reddening.
"God Wakanda..."
T'Chaka one hand on his chest and lowered his noble head.
The light faded.
Barbara collapsed limply onto the altar, panting heavily.
"Get her back to her palace! Quickly!" T'Chaka roared, "With the best Vibranium therapy pods!"
Late at night, on the terrace of the royal palace.
Barbara, draped in a silk robe, leaned against the railing, gazing down at the magnificent Golden City below.
In the distance, the lights are bright. This technological Utopia, hidden in the heart of Africa and claiming to be the Guardian of the world, is incredibly wealthy and arrogantly laughable.
She raised her hand and, by the moonlight, examined the beaded bracelet that T'Chaka had personally placed on her wrist.
"What a lovely group of believers."
Barbara chuckled softly, her fingers deftly twirling one of the beads.
"The Chosen One..."
She muttered the new title to herself, her eyes gradually turning cold.
Since they enjoy creating gods so much, she doesn't mind playing the role of a god to the end.
However, gods do require offerings.