[center][img]http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20130709065957/marvel/ro/images/a/ab/Black_Panther_Logo.png[/img][/center] The last thing T’Challa had remembered before the explosion was setting himself up in the meeting room, he could hear the hydraulics of the machines below whirring back and forth and the crackling of the soldering. In some strange manner it had lulled him to sleep, there was perhaps some comfort to be gained from knowing his work was in motion. The agents who had employed him had kept tightening the deadline, which frequently had T’Challa sleeping in the meeting room, with his crumpled jacket serving as a pillow. His attempts at rest only resulted in a few hours of broken sleep most nights. However this time he had stirred to the voice of a woman in his moments between awake and sleep, a comforted smile wrapped around his face. This dreamlike fantasy was short lived as her sentence repeated. It was a computerised message from the security system. “Self-destruct sequence activated.” T’Challa’s elbow slipped off of the arm rest, jarring him awake. “Self-destruct sequence activated” “No! No, no, NO.” His voice, still broken from sleep, startled the few line workers running past the room. “Clear the building, NOW! GET OUT!” their frantic shouts being drowned out by the emergency siren kicking in. “Self-destruct sequence activated. 60 seconds until Self-destruct” Red light spun round the factory walls. “Shit. This is happening.” T’Challa grabbed the plans sprawled in front of him on the table, and sprinted with them under his arm past the glass doors. He could see from the mezzanine level that AIM’s security officers were already outside, pulling people out of the exits as they left. They were bellowing orders and directing any strays into the back of the few military jeeps left on site. Break lights dimmed, they had decided it was too late; they couldn’t risk waiting any longer. Watching the vehicles cannon out of the complex T’Challa cursed through his teeth and launched down the last few steps and out of the door. He had made it to the entrance of the unit with 12 seconds remaining, the jeeps were gone. He remembered nothing past that. T’Challa had awoken in a fresh hell and it was all too clear that there would be no chance of escape, these people would use him for all his worth. - Shuri sat hunched over in the back of the air carrier with her knees balancing the files she was sifting through. Details of the workings T’Challa’s old friend had been developing with AIM. She was well briefed on the organisation and the activity that seemed to have flared up over the last few months. She was here to get her brother back. However things were left between him and their father he would want to know that he had passed. But he had to be convinced of his duty to come home to Wakanda. Where others had failed Shuri needed to show him what a desperate state his nation would be in without him and the danger his family could face at the hands of potential rebels. As much as she didn’t believe he was ready for the responsibilities to be a ruler, she had to show her family and nation that she had tried. In truth, she wasn’t here to show her brother how to be the Black Panther, she knew that retrieving her brother would be important for Wakanda's rule but her mission would prove that only she had earned the right to wear the mask and hold the mantle permanently. Her gaze drifted for a moment her thoughts returning to her family in the compound. She had never seen so much security at the gates of her home. She had known when met at the gates that she was too late, although her father’s advisor had said nothing, she could feel it in the air. A quivering almost, all but confirmed by the palpable tension as they met her uncle in the training courtyard. “Shuri, I...you’re” [b]“I don’t want you to say it, please, just take me to his quarters. I failed him even in his final hours, I need to be at his bedside with my mother.”[/b] “Child we have to be careful. The news mustn’t reach the outside yet, they cannot know the king has fallen without an heir.” The words had stung. Even after her father’s death she could still not be recognised as worthy blood. “M’Baku has increased our security tenfold but I am not familiar with these faces, there are eyes and ears everywhere.” [b]“Uncle, these men are marked with the White Gorilla cult tattoos. How are they even allowed inside the walls?”[/b] “M’Baku bears the same mark Shuri, and he has been beside both me and the king for over twenty years. When he defected from his cult to save your father in action he retained a great following among his peoples. As long as it’s under M’Baku’s command we have no reason to doubt that they would be any less dedicated to safeguarding those in this compound. We merely need to guard our words.” [b]“Just take me to my father. Let me see T'Chaka one last time.”[/b] Shuri had to focus her eyes on the files in front of her, it had been hard enough to see the great Black Panther T’Chaka lay lifeless in front of her; she couldn’t relive it through her memories every few minutes. Perhaps it was her way of avoiding the guilt she felt. Either way, she had to get her head in gear for what was at hand. Shuri looked over the return addresses on the letters. She knew just who she’d be visiting first when she reached America, and she wouldn’t be leaving until she’d drawn out every last word, by any means necessary.