T'Challa arrived earlier than the previous days, radiating a focused intent that cast a gentle urgency over the morning.
Ethan noticed that T'Challa's early arrival meant what they would see was best experienced now. It was likely a place changed by the morning light or atmosphere. He didn't ask about it. He'd find out soon enough.
T'Challa wore civilian clothes, not his suit. He looked less like a king—more like a man heading somewhere personal. This was different from yesterday, and Ethan could tell it meant something important.
He greeted the household without explanation, then led them from the palace into the city.
They walked away from the mines and the usual tour route. It was toward something not on any itinerary or sign. The city moved around it, not to it. Old spaces had this quality. Spaces that kept their purpose for so long; the city was oriented around, not toward, them. Proximity here required deliberateness, not accident.
The ancestral space was old from generations of use, not just time. The stone was shaped by people over centuries. The air felt special, blessed by repeated ritual. The ceremonial ground was small, not made for crowds. Its purpose was to keep a connection alive.
The connection thrummed here, pressing close—an undercurrent of reverence that settled over everyone, unexpected and consuming. Even those unprepared for awe sensed the weight, feeling quietly transformed.
Amora felt it immediately. The divine presence she sensed in Wakanda was stronger here. Bast was present in the way gods are when people always believe in them. Bast wasn't physically there or speaking, but a sense of faithful relationship filled the space.
She said nothing. She stepped into the space with the Asgardian awareness of someone who knew what divine presences felt like, treating this one with the respect it warranted.
Raven registered it at once.
She had felt divine presences before: the Ancient One's unique energy, the Watcher's vastness, and Kun-Lun's spirituality. But this was different—the way a protector god differs. The Ancient One's presence was knowledge. Bast's loyalty was through generations, now part of the stone.
She stood utterly still for a moment, caught by something deeper than habit. Not responding felt nearly impossible, but she let herself feel the full scope of presence, grounding herself in the intensity.
T'Challa watched her stillness. He had brought them here and watched each person encounter it differently. Raven's response held his attention.
She asked him about Bast.
Not the standard explanation—he had already given that, and she had listened. Now she asked for what was underneath. What did the relationship actually feel like from inside? The genuine account, not the representative one.
T'Challa considered the question. He gave it the same care as things that deserved care.
"It is not like having a conversation," he said. "I cannot ask Bast something and get an answer that transfers to another person." He looked at the center, at the worn stone, the marks of centuries of gestures. "It's more like certainty. When I act to protect Wakanda and help my people truly flourish, those moments feel different. I recognize it. I can't prove Bast's presence makes the difference. I haven't found it necessary to prove it."
Raven was quiet. Silence now felt thick and meaningful, settling between them with almost physical presence, her breath slightly shallower as if bracing for what came next.
"That is the most honest account of a divine relationship," she said, "that I have heard from anyone who actually has one."
T'Challa looked at her.
"I have had considerable time to think about how to describe it accurately," he told her. "Most descriptions default to the impressive rather than the real. I prefer the real."
Raven told him she had noticed this about how he spoke.
They stood together in the ancestral space, sharing silence. It was companionable and charged by T'Challa's honesty and Raven's acknowledgment. Morning light came through the entrance, as intended. Bast's presence lingered. Amora was at ease nearby, and the household moved in their own ways, each with what the space had given them.
T'Challa had brought a sample.
He brought it out when they moved to a nearby room. It was a piece of Wakandan Vibranium, safely processed so it could be handled. He told Rogue he was curious. He knew her mutation let her absorb things. He wondered if Vibranium would affect her, or if non-living materials were beyond her ability.
Rogue looked at the sample, weighing it in her hand.
"You want to know if I can absorb a metal," she said.
T'Challa told her he did not have a strong expectation about the result. He was genuinely uncertain.
She removed her glove. Ready for whatever happened next.
Touching non-living things was always different for her. There was no life force, no powers or memories—just a surface. But this was new. Vibranium had its own energy, not biological or psychic. It was unlike anything she'd felt. Her mutation sensed it and interacted with it, as with any processable energy.
She held the contact and let it run.
It took longer than with living things. The energy was spread throughout the metal, not focused in one spot. She felt the difference and waited until the transfer felt complete.
When she released the sample, Jean looked at her. She waited for a sign.
"It's in," Jean said. She was sensing it with her full awareness—not Rogue's thoughts, but the energy Rogue now carried. "It's settled, just like the Apocalypse powers did. It's yours."
Rogue set the sample down.
She glanced around. A small stone lay near the wall—a bit of debris. She picked it up and tossed it at the wall with her bare hand. Not too hard, just to test.
The stone hit the wall. Instead of spreading out, the impact traveled back into her hand. She felt the energy arrive, then be absorbed and processed by the new Vibranium ability within her.
She threw another stone. Same result.
She looked at T'Challa.
He watched her closely, curious to see if the experiment worked. He asked her how it felt.
Rogue thought about how to describe it.
"Like having a new room in a house I already knew was large," she said.
T'Challa accepted her answer and added it to what he was learning about the household—information his intelligence network had missed.
Ethan found himself with T'Challa at the compound's far end, away from the others. The large space lets people spread out. T'Challa moved near him, clearly waiting for the right moment to speak.
He told Ethan what Wakanda knew about the Savage Land.
He explained clearly. Wakanda had watched the Savage Land's Vibranium for decades. The Anti-Metal there acted differently from Wakandan Vibranium. Both came from the same source. Wakandan scientists understood the deposits better than anyone. Their monitoring was up to date.
They knew about Brainchild's operation and were preparing to respond, but Ethan got there first and shut it down. The machines were safe. The Vibranium was untouched. The ecosystem was protected—just as Wakanda would have wanted. Wakanda didn't have to reveal what they knew or could do.
He paused after saying this, giving Ethan time to receive it before he continued.
He asked Ethan directly: What did he intend regarding the Savage Land going forward?
Ethan answered honestly, the way he answered everything.
He didn't want territory in the Savage Land and had no plans to use the Vibranium—he had no need or way to do so. He was fine with Wakanda studying the deposits if it was for science. He planned to keep protecting the ecosystem from those who tried to take Vibranium at the environment's expense. The machines, the animals, and the balance of the place all deserved protection. He would help because he could, and it was needed.
T'Challa was quiet for a moment, the air thick with understanding. It felt like the moment when hopes and intentions aligned. The path forward became emotionally real, not just logical.
"What you've described," he said, "is exactly what Wakanda would want from a reliable partner." He wasn't praising Ethan; he just stated a fact. "I've been thinking since last night about building that partnership on purpose, instead of letting it happen by accident."
Ethan told him he had been thinking about the same thing.
"Then we are aligned on the premise," T'Challa said. "Let's discuss the structure tomorrow, when we have more time."
He spoke like someone who had made up his mind and was acting at the right time. Ethan agreed to be there.
T'Challa studied him for a moment, reassessing his earlier impression.
"My intelligence briefing described you as significant," he said. "That was accurate. In fact, my briefing did not fully capture it."
Ethan told him that it was a consistent experience for people who did thorough research on him before meeting him.
T'Challa made a sound almost like a laugh, then went back to join the others.
The evening had the warmth of a day that held several things worth holding.
Their palace quarters now felt familiar, no longer new but theirs for the time being—a sign of a truly good place. Everyone settled into their routines: Raven reading, Jean at the window looking out over the city, Rogue testing her new kinetic absorption with whatever she could find and thinking it through in her usual practical way, and Ilyana quietly sitting in the corner, deep in thought.
Amora shared with the group what she had really felt in the ancestral space. Bast's presence there was much stronger than anywhere else in Wakanda, and the kind of divine relationship she sensed was new to her. Asgardian gods were present and sometimes interacted directly, but Bast's presence felt more deeply woven into the people. Amora spoke thoughtfully, not as an academic, and was comfortable working through her thoughts with people she trusted.
Raven said: That is what faith that has been kept faithfully for a very long time produces. She said it as a matter of fact. Several people at the table looked at her. She let them look.
Rogue set down the pebble she had been using.
"Okay," she said. "The kinetic absorption is going to change things." She looked at her hand. "The full extent of what it changes, I am not certain of yet. But when I figure it out, I will tell everyone."
Jean told her it was genuinely integrated — not a temporary copy, not a state that would fade. Her version of the property was hers, as were the Apocalypse powers.
Rogue said she knew. She could feel the difference between something that was sitting in her and something that had become part of her, and this had become part of her. She said this with the directness she brought to things she was certain about.
Thori, who had been quiet for most of the evening, told the group that the food at dinner had been extremely good. He delivered this as a considered final assessment of the day's events, which it was not, but it landed with the warmth of a creature who found the world more interesting than threatening and was pleased to be in it.
Rogue told him that was not the most significant development of the day.
Thori considered this.
"The food was still very good," he said.
No one disagreed. The evening went on. Tomorrow, T'Challa would talk about the partnership he wanted to build, which was the next big step. The night before something important had its own special feeling.
They were in Wakanda, which was an extraordinary place. They had spent three days there and had at least one more to go. The household was together and doing well.
That was enough for a Tuesday evening.