Disclaimer: I have no creative rights over the characters and places you can identify in this story and have no way profited from this work.
08/10/2020
It goes without saying this chapter comes with a sad undertone. I have nonetheless kept the plot and dialogue as originally planned. It's only by getting on with life that we truly honour the dead.
nliochristou: I'm on record for nominating Aragorn and Sam (don't think Gandalf's riding instructions would permit him to try). If you want an entertaining take on the matter, I'd highly recommend Heroes stand united by Aragon II Elessar.
Ian N: "The Incredible Took" was always intended to be strictly humorous.
Cyclops of Krakoa: Like Frank, I'm a firm believer in the "one bad day" theory.
Chapter 11 – Wakanda Stirrings
Aragorn wore a white tunic as he strolled through the Tower Hall. The doors to the Court of the Fountain opened of their own accord. He walked outside and saw a purple aurora dancing across the night sky. Waiting for him around the White Tree were all his subjects killed during the Battle of Wakanda. Boromir and Sif were at the group's head. Their king walked up to them.
"My friends," Aragorn was confused. "What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you, Aragorn," Boromir said matter-of-fact.
Sif nodded. "One last fight."
It was well after midnight in Birnin Zana. The King and Queen of the Reunited Kingdom had been granted a spacious apartment in the Citadel as their residence in exile. Asleep in bed, Arwen woke after not feeling her husband. She immediately knew where to find him.
Aragorn was looking out from the bedroom balcony. The clear and warm African summer's night was a study in contrasts. The sky above him was filled with a glorious array of stars and constellations. Wakanda's capital was usually no less brilliant with vibranium filaments bathing the city in a gentle silver light (Aragorn wondered if Minas Ithil was similarly radiant in its heyday). Birnin Zana was now more often shrouded in darkness, its people withdrawing from the city's normally vibrant nightlife. It reflected the pall that had befallen Wakanda.
The last 12 months had seen Wakanda become the largest aid donor in Earth's history. Wakandans were still struggling with post-Snap life like the peoples they help though. Their advanced society certainly helped cushion its effects better than any nation. However, nothing could disguise the decimation suffered by all its tribes. The psychological damage to surviving Wakandans had been equally terrible. Aragorn felt they would have lost all hope if not for –
"Elessar?" Arwen interrupted his thoughts.
Aragorn put his arm around her waist. "I woke you," he apologised.
"Did you have the dream again?" Arwen had no doubt what had woken him.
Aragorn first had the said dream several weeks ago. He confided in Arwen as the dream became increasingly frequent. Under other circumstances, an ethereal reunion with the deceased could help bring closure to the bereaved.
"Boromir and Sif saying they're waiting for me," Aragorn uneasily confirmed. "One fight is all that separates us."
"You have never feared death."
"I only fear for those I would leave behind."
Elrond perceived such separations as part of the bitterness of mortality. Arwen had a decisive epiphany showing such bitterness was balanced by joy.
"I told you why I turned back from the Grey Havens," Arwen said.
"A vision of me holding our son," her husband remembered.
"And to that vision I still hold," Arwen believed neither of them would taste death before then.
"Much has changed since then," Aragorn felt the doubt of previous years.
"But hope remains," Arwen comforted and assured like then. "Trust in that. Trust us once more."
The royal couple tenderly kissed under the stars.
Much of Sam's time over the last 12 months had been spent working with the Citadel's remaining gardeners. Under happier circumstances, it would have been a dream sabbatical for him. The palace gardens were unlike any he had seen before. Both because of the flora on display and the horticultural practices used to make them thrive. Sam's gardening activities were not limited to the Citadel though. His most important task included a weekly visit to the City of the Dead.
An earlier riser, Sam boarded a Dragon Flyer just before dawn. The pilot flew north quickly leaving Birnin Zana behind. Sam looked out of his window as the first rays of daylight appeared over the horizon. Despite the personal sadness it invoked; he imagined Elanor sitting on his lap, excitedly asking about the wildlife running across the plain below. The flyer soon left the plains behind as the terrain turned into mountainous jungle. The City of the Dead could be seen peeking out of the mists atop the mountain range. Killmonger's first order as king had left it desolate well before the Snap.
The hall containing the Garden of the Heart-Shaped Herb had been repaired following T'Challa's restoration. Only a handful of his subjects had stepped foot in it since. It was due to a sense of national shame that burned intensely as the fires that consumed the garden.
Many Wakandans had believed the Heart-Shaped Herb had been a sacred gift from Bast. Its wholesale burning – even if it was under pain of death – was nothing short of sacrilege. The garden had been left fallow for more than two years afterward. It was only after the Snap that Wakandans finally decided to grow something new. The garden's sanctity required nothing less than a plant allegedly touched by the divine. Fortunately for Wakanda, its late king received such a plant hours before his death.
Sam entered the hall alone. The garden was bare except for the White Tree sapling that he and Aragorn had planted. Sam only poured a tiny amount of water at its base. Even in Wakanda, the tree's health seemed to be primarily reliant on Aragorn's. Yet being rooted in vibranium-rich soil had significantly increased its growth rate. The tiny sapling Arwen presented to T'Challa a year ago had grown to three feet in height. Fingering its leaves, Sam wondered if the histories of Wakanda and Gondor were indeed intertwined.
Ramonda had told Sam about her nephew's act of arson. It reminded him of a story Aragorn told the hobbits while leading them through the wild. Both Ar-Pharazôn and Killmonger had destroyed the sacred plant of their respective kingdoms. And just like Isildur, Nakia (another victim of the Snap) had bravely saved an offshoot before the rest was burned. The only difference was that the Heart-Shaped Herb was now considered extinct. It seemed certain that any future Black Panther would lack the superhuman physique of their ancestors.
Satisfied the White Tree was healthy, Sam sat down on a nearby stone bench. He had been given a string of Kimoyo Beads like every Middle-earth exile in Wakanda. One of his beads contained some historic footage that Shuri discovered several months ago. A surveillance camera within Mount Bashenga had captured the events leading up to the Snap. Sam rolled a bead with his fingers. A hologram began playing of the last time he was with his closest friend.
"He snapped his fingers and left…Oh, Sam."
Sam wept after the holographic Frodo turned to dust.
Over four thousand of the Free Peoples fought at the Battle of Wakanda. Just over 1,000 Gondorians and 400 Rohirrim who took part in the battle were alive following the Snap. All of them were homesick like Romanoff observed in her report. Dealing with the uncertainty if their loved ones were still alive only made those feelings worse. They had nonetheless faithfully protected Wakanda and its people during their exile. Even the most insular Wakandan found these 'colonisers' much humbler in attitude than those from Earth. It resulted in an unprecedented display of military aid and rearmament.
The heavy armour used by the Free Peoples was not intended for the hot climes of central Africa. Those 1,400 survivors now wore vibranium armour that was dyed in their respective national colours. They were also the first foreigners to be officially issued with Wakandan weapons, exchanging those from Middle-earth for vibranium blades, energy cloaks and sonic spears. The only exceptions were Aragorn and Arwen given the ineffable nature of their respective swords. However, all this new equipment was merely part of an even more radical change. The soldiers of all three kingdoms had been training together to fight as a single unit. One of the best manifestations of this change was in the guarding of Wakanda's borders.
Border Tribe ranks had been heavily depleted by Killmonger's reign and the Snap. Surviving members had initially been wary about the Eorlingas helping them carry out their traditional duties. That wariness gradually changed after learning they had more in common than just horses. Like the Border Tribe, the Rohirrim had vigilantly defended their lands for centuries from hostile powers. The fact they had successfully defended Rohan without the aid of advanced technology (at least prior to the Avengers) merited respect. So much so that the current Lord of the Riddermark was now shown the same deference as a tribal elder.
Eomer was riding on Firefoot at the head of a mounted company of Rohirrim and Wakandans. They were returning home from a regular patrol of the southern border. Any shepherds the company rode past gave Eomer a customary fist pump in salute. The company ascended over a ridge with the Border Tribe's main village just a mile away. It had been the Rohirrim's home away from home during their exile. Coexistence had proved a lesson in humility for them as much as their hosts.
Hundreds of Rohirric steeds roamed safe and freely across the village's surrounding paddocks. The Rohirrim had long believed no other Men knew more about horses than them. Just a few lessons from the Border Tribe had proved otherwise. Rohan's level of equine science and medicine had taken a quantum leap over the last few months. In an optimistic sign, discussions were being held about how the Eorlingas could take that knowledge back with them to Middle-earth.
Eomer dismounted near one of the larger huts. He pulled back the hood of his cloak before entering. Like many things Wakandan, the hut's primitive exterior belied the sophistication within. The hut was part of the surveillance network that monitored Wakanda's borders. Its two-person crew were at their workstations analysing people and vehicle movements in real time. One of them contacted Eomer earlier that a VIP from Birnin Zana was waiting to see him.
"Kunjani, Ramonda?" Eomer greeted her.
Ramonda smiled approvingly at his Xhosa. "Fine, thank you."
The Queen Mother had arrived that morning on the Royal Talon. Her visit was an unscheduled one. The King of Rohan was still unsure as to its purpose.
"I was told you wished to show me something," Eomer only knew it was not a social call.
"Have you read Steve's report about Topeka?" Ramonda first checked.
"I only had time to read the summary before going on patrol," Eomer confessed. "He mentioned the militia had massacred some civilians."
Ramonda's eyes saddened as she revealed the purposed of her visit.
"A War Dog in West Africa sent us these images last night," she said before rolling a Kimoyo Bead.
Most West African governments had collapsed in the aftermath of the Snap. Violence and anarchy had become rife across the region. Eomer was nonetheless shocked by the montage projected before him.
The War Dog had sent back images of villages, farms, places of worship, and lonely stretches of roads. Scores of murdered men, women and children could be seen at every location. For Ramonda, the images stirred up uncomfortable memories of the Rwandan genocide. Wakandan intelligence learnt about the planned killings months in advance. Traditional fears of exposure proved stronger, T'Chaka and his court watching on as one million people were systemically murdered on Wakanda's doorstep.
"Who else has seen this?" Eomer eventually asked.
Another refugee's hut was just a short distance away. Twelve months ago, some had been surprised by Radagast's request to live among the Border Tribe and Rohirrim. But the Brown Wizard never felt at home in a metropolis – even one as eco-friendly as Birnin Zana. Living in the Border Tribe's village also meant his adopted ride of choice could live free range.
Lubanzi was dozing in front of Radagast's hut, the wizard's power ensuring the rhino posed no threat to anyone. Radagast himself was talking to a barn swallow perched on the birdbath outside his home. As always, most dismissed his zoolingualism as a sign of eccentricity. Romanoff and Gandalf more believed it could be an important asset for gathering intelligence. Migratory birds could provide eyewitness reports on happenings from all corners of the globe. They were also far less likely to be identified as spies compared to human agents. The swallow was telling Radagast about his travels when Eomer joined them.
"Good morning, milord!" Radagast cheerily greeted him.
"I'm hope I'm not interrupting," Eomer replied.
"Not at all," Radagast said as he gestured at the swallow. "This chap arrived from Europe this morning to spend the summer here." His enthusiasm waned after noticing the king's harrowed eyes. "What's wrong?"
"Ramonda just showed me those images," Eomer had been told the wizard had seen them prior.
"Ghastly beyond belief," Radagast shared his reaction.
Eomer had only known two Istari prior to the Infinity War. He had been initially unsure what to make of the third. Despite his feats at the Battle of Wakanda, Radagast seemed almost childlike compared to Gandalf and Saruman. Residing in the same village for the last several months allowed Eomer to get to know him better. The Brown Wizard was still one of the Wise even if he was no master strategist. Caring for animals also made him a humble and observant individual. In time, Eomer had come to trust him as a confidant.
"I wonder if such killings are taking place elsewhere," the king hinted what was gnawing at him.
The Brown Wizard read between the lines. "You fear that includes your own people?"
"And if my wife and son are among the victims," Eomer admitted.
"I can't tell you not to worry about your family," Radagast advised. "But you've never lost hope of seeing them again. Don't give up now."
The Free Peoples had tried several ways to feel less homesick. One was appropriating Earth festivals to celebrate similar ones of their own.
"I remember Faramir when he visited us at Yuletide," Eomer referred to Christmas. "Everyone I've spoken to said how different he was. Colder, harsher."
"Because he feels he'll never see his wife and children again," Radagast had previously discussed it with Gandalf.
"There's a certain freedom in giving up hope," Eomer agreed, casting his mind back to Saruman's invasion of Rohan. "You no longer care what happens to you."
"Or care what happens to others," Radagast believed such resignation inevitably brought destruction. "Or how you treat them. And like yourself, I believe the Faramir we knew shall return before this is over."
The Lord of the Riddermark considered this a moment. Unlike nine years ago, he decided to keep trusting hope.
"I'm glad you're with us, my friend." Eomer thanked the wizard before reflecting, "Still, we've been getting rumours about Morgoth worship for a month now. I can't believe these massacres are coincidence."
The swallow interrupted their conversation, tweeting rapidly at the Brown Wizard.
"What do you mean he's getting help from HYRDA?" Radagast replied.
Okoye's office was located within the Citadel. She was currently typing an email in response to a friend's recent request.
Nat,
War Dogs confirm Clint was last seen in Hong Kong. Should be able to learn where he's headed.
However, they also found he executed a group of triad members. Photos from scene attached.
Let me know if you still want to find him.
O.
Okoye sighed after pressing 'Send'. She had seen the attached photos. Ronin's latest act of vigilantism disturbed her even more than the civilian massacres. Maybe it also proved the former Avenger known as 'Hawkeye' was no more. Okoye looked up. The visitor she had been expecting had arrived a few minutes late.
"I'm sorry, Okoye," Arwen apologised. "I hope you don't mind me changing first."
The refugees had come to adopt Wakandan attire for civilian clothing. Arwen was wearing a sapphire coloured gown with green safari patterns.
"No problem," Okoye knew she had changed out of armour. "How are the new recruits coming along?"
Ayo had been responsible for training new recruits to the Dora Milaje. Nor was she the only senior Dora killed at the Battle of Wakanda. It took just one sparring session for Okoye to invite Arwen to help fill the gap. The latter humbly agreed to be a melee combat instructor. Recruits would confidently engage the foreign queen in their first training session, believing Hadhafang would prove no match against their vibranium spears. All them came away with humble memories of the encounter.
"Improving," Arwen was patient and honest. "But they're still not battle ready by your standards." She took some responsibility as their trainer. "Then again, I'm not Sif nor Ayo."
"No, you just have the benefit of three thousand years' experience," Okoye dryly disagreed.
"That's Elessar's excuse whenever I best him," Arwen similarly responded.
They laughed at Aragorn's expense before resuming. Arwen had not come just to deliver her report.
"You've been working all morning," Arwen thought Okoye needed a break. "I'm just about to pay a short visit to the markets. Why don't you come with me?"
Okoye noticed her email had been received. "Sure," she decided to give Romanoff time to digest its contents.
The pair arrived at the city markets by maglev train a short while later. Prior to the Snap, the markets were a place bustling with people and song. A more subdued atmosphere had reigned since then. Trading was now conducted with nary a word spoken nor musical note heard. The only solace for Wakandans was that, unlike most of the world, at least they still had plenty.
Arwen had come carrying a locally woven bag. She first brought some flour and sugar. A tip from Okoye told her where the best spice merchant could be found. They decided to walk back to the Citadel after Arwen purchased a quantity of cardamon.
"You're baking mahamri?" Okoye deduced from the ingredients.
"Sam's joining me for afternoon tea tomorrow," Arwen confirmed. "Ramonda told me he's developed quite a taste for it."
"You do know your kitchen printer can make it?" Okoye pointed out.
Arwen nodded. "But Sam's been withdrawn of late," she gave the reason why she was baking instead. "It's my way of showing I care."
Okoye took the opportunity to offer some belated condolences.
"Arwen, I've never had the chance to speak about your father," she prefaced the traditional Wakandan expression of sympathy. "My comfort for your loss."
"Hannon le," Arwen softly thanked her. "In a way, I farewelled him years ago in the hills of Rohan. It was the last time we spoke before he departed for the Undying Lands." Her mood then lightened. "And I can never thank you enough for taking me to see my grandmother."
Okoye had used the Royal Talon to take Arwen to the New Avengers Facility shortly after Warbringer's raid. There was hardly a dry eye as Galadriel and Arwen embraced each other in joyous reunion.
"It's the least I could do," Okoye reflected. "After all, T'Challa wanted us to be like one tribe.'
"You've steadfastly carried out his wish in his absence, Okoye," Arwen said she was being too humble. "The Alliance has saved millions of lives because of you."
The recent massacres had only strengthened a growing pessimism about the Allied cause.
"But it's like what Nat told me last week," Okoye recalled. "No matter how many lives we save, the world seems to be losing its humanity."
Arwen looked across the street at a local café. Sitting at one of its tables was a Gondorian soldier and a Wakandan woman on a date. Arwen smiled approvingly as the young couple shared a quick kiss.
"It still abounds," she disagreed.
The Royal Talon had taken Ramonda to and from the Border Tribe that morning. It was scheduled to transport another monarch in the afternoon. Aragorn arrived at Mount Bashenga escorted by two Tower Guards. He ordered them to wait outside prior to making his way down the spiral walkway into Shuri's laboratory. The princess had checked if Aragorn could stop by on his way back to Birnin Zana.
"Thanks for dropping in," she apologised for the short notice.
"I was just on my way back from lunch with M'Baku," he assured it was only a tiny detour.
"Did he threaten to feed you to his children?" Shuri recalled her first visit to Jabari Land.
"He told me the story," Aragorn chuckled before getting down to business. "You had something to show me?"
Shuri brought up a series of equations and images on her large monitor. The images were of the Infinity Stones. She had been working on a research request of Aragorn's over the last couple of months.
"You wanted to know if it was possible to destroy the stones," Shuri began. "I had Griot run simulations from the readings we have of them." She described the one successful outcome with customary sarcasm. "The bad news is that the stones are the only thing that can destroy the stones. The worse news is that we'd have to destroy them all at once."
Aragorn never lost faith in the Fellowship completing its task. He similarly believed that the Allies would find a way of undoing the Snap.
"You're saying we'd have to use the Gauntlet a second time after bringing everyone back?" Aragorn summarised what Shuri just told him.
"And it would have to be 'we'," she confirmed about the immeasurable strain. "None of us are strong enough to snap twice with it."
"Thor and Hulk might take that as a challenge," Aragorn mused before returning to the stones. "It would nonetheless erase them from existence?"
Wakandan scientists knew about the conservation of mass centuries before the rest of the world did. The data indicated that the Infinity Stones were not immune from this scientific law.
"Well, nothing's ever really erased from existence," Shuri said before gesturing at the data. "All we can do is turn them into atoms. We'd just have to hope no-one's able to put them back together."
"Gandalf said the Time Stone was the only way," Aragorn discounted the likelihood.
"Why is destroying them so important to you?" Shuri thought his interest bordered on obsession.
"Because they're not unlike the Ring, Shuri," Aragorn believed their current situation had parallels. "Evil desires nothing less than absolute power. Even if we defeat Thanos and Morgoth, there'll always be someone intent on claiming the Gauntlet. Destroying the stones might be the only way to prevent the Infinity War from being just that – a war without end."
Assuming the Allies were victorious, part of Shuri wanted them to keep the Infinity Stones. The opportunity to research even just one of them could lead to discoveries and applications greater than any in Wakanda's history. But as Aragorn had implied, owning the stones meant always having to protect them. Not even Wakanda had the people and resources to hold out against cosmic-level tyrants forever.
"Have you raised this with anyone else?" Shuri eventually asked.
"I first had to be sure that destroying the stones wouldn't destroy us too," Aragorn replied he had not. "And once more, you have my deepest gratitude. The Alliance wouldn't have come this far without your intellect behind it."
Wakanda's princess knew the king was not one for flattery. But recent frustrations prevented her from enjoying the compliment.
"At least you get it," Shuri let slip.
"What's the matter?" Aragorn noticed her tone.
To Shuri, no one could ever replace T'Challa. Aragorn had nonetheless been an important source of comfort and strength for her since the Snap. That included listening whenever she wanted to vent about the Tribal Council.
"Some elders think I should take up the throne," Shuri confided about the last meeting.
Aragorn hid his surprise from learning this. He could not believe that Ramonda or M'Baku were behind the push.
"How do you feel about it?" Aragorn spared Shuri from naming names.
"What do they think I do here all day?!" she let rip about the elders. "We can't solve every problem by scratching our claws!"
"Taking up the mantle of Black Panther is what really troubles you, doesn't it?" Aragorn inferred.
Shuri subtlety nodded. "It'd be like admitting T'Challa's not coming back."
The King of the Reunited Kingdom reflected on his own life. Self-doubt drove him away from his heritage for decades. It was only when Arwen's life hung in the balance that he finally claimed his birthright. Shuri's situation contained an important difference though.
"I will support whatever you decide, Shuri," Aragorn promised. "And it's a pity some elders don't have the same faith as their people."
"What you mean?"
Arwen had interrupted Aragorn outside on their balcony just after midnight. He had been reflecting Wakandans would have lost all hope if not for one person.
"Ignore politics," Aragorn referred to the Council. "In my time here, I've spoken to Wakandans from all walks of life. The reason they believe T'Challa will return is because you do."
"They'd be disappointed with how much I still don't know," Shuri was frustrated by her lack of progress on Project Felix.
"It isn't about what you know," Aragorn came to the point. "It's about who you are. All your research and designs indicate one thing about you above all – an absolute dedication to truth. Your honesty merits trust. It's why the Council should trust your judgement about how you can best serve Wakanda."
The Princess Royal softly smiled. On reflection, she had never been afraid of speaking the truth to power. Not even when Killmonger stood poised to kill her. And it was a heartening revelation that ordinary Wakandans respected her more for that than anything that came out of her lab. That left one nagging doubt.
"And what if the best's way on the throne?" Shuri hoped the day would never come.
"You will be a mighty Black Panther," Aragorn confidently predicted.
"Second that," a woman said from behind.
The pair turned around – it was Danvers.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," she apologised.
"You're not the first coloniser to," Shuri dryly referred to Everett.
As raised at the Allied holo-conference, Captain Marvel first visited Wakanda not long after the Battle of Nidavellir. Danvers had seen far more advanced civilisations during her travels through space. But few embraced the concept of equality like the African kingdom did. And like the Free Peoples she was familiar with, those in Wakanda proved respect was about attitude not technology.
"Forgive me, Carol," Aragorn was confused about her return. "I thought we agreed to meet in the Citadel?"
"But Okoye told me you were here." Danvers explained before telling Shuri, "I'd like to show you this as well."
Shuri had previously created an interface between Griot and Danvers's sensors. The artificial intelligence projected a hologram in the middle of the laboratory after the Avenger brushed her sleeve. It was a simulation of the vortex Thanos had placed around Arda.
"I swung by Arda before coming back," Danvers began her debrief. "As you know, my sensors can't penetrate the vortex around it. Well, it seems even Thanos's need some help."
The hologram zoomed in on Middle-earth. Also displayed was the Mad Titan's forces currently orbiting overhead.
"I detected them at long range," Danvers continued. "The Q-Ship controls a network of surveillance satellites monitoring the surface."
Shuri's eyes flashed in realisation. "The satellites would first need to pierce the vortex," she thought aloud.
"Beat me to it," Danvers confirmed with a smirk. "The vortex above Middle-earth is less dense compared to the rest of the planet."
Only one had the power to vary the vortex's strength.
"Thanos put in a window," Aragorn now understood what Captain Marvel had been alluding to. "Could your sensors see through it?" he asked her.
The king hoped she had brought back the first news about Middle-earth in more than a year. That hope was quickly dashed.
"The Q-Ship would've picked me up if I got any closer," Danvers had decided not to push her luck for once.
Shuri's mind went into overdrive as she interpreted the information on display.
"I know Thor's asleep," she first acknowledged the problem. "But if these energy readings are right, we'd be able to punch a hole in the vortex using the Bifrost."
"This window also comes with a hair-trigger alarm," Danvers drew on her initial analogy. "Thanos will know the moment we try anything."
The spectre of Earth's annihilation led to a brief pause in the conversation. It caused Shuri to realise they had overlooked something important.
"Why would he deploy satellites in the first place?" she did not follow Thanos's motives. "I mean, why now?"
"We've being laying laid low since the Snap," Danvers had thought about it while flying back to Earth. "Maybe he thinks we're planning an offensive. Liberating Arda would be the obvious place to start."
"Thanos would destroy Earth the moment we tried," Shuri countered about the hypothetical offensive. "Surely he knows we wouldn't risk it?"
Aragorn had read Romanoff's report about the strategic situation. A chill ran up his spine as he weighed the findings to what Danvers had discovered.
"Thanos indeed expects an incursion," Aragorn broke his silence. "But not from us."
The Ultimate Negator had been constructed several months ago. As Morgoth hoped, its construction had gone unnoticed by his enemies. The Negator functioned similarly to the runestones he deployed 12 months ago, converting evil into sorcerous energy. But unlike the runestones, the Negator had been placed in a well-hidden location. Overseeing the Dark Lord's secret weapon on Earth was his ranking human follower.
Morgoth had transferred Zola's consciousness from the dark web into an equally dark-coloured robotic body. Standing six-feet tall, the robot's "head" consisted of an armoured camera with a glowing red lens. There was also chest had a circular LCD screen on the chest displaying Zola's pixilated face. The Dark Lord's creation had given Zola several things he had long desired – immortality, secret knowledge and a body that surpassed the limits of human flesh. One thing it did not grant Zola, however, was the ability to transfer his mind across the internet or into another body. It was to remind the scientist that his existence was solely at the Dark Lord's whim.
Zola was presently in his laboratory. It was where he spent his time in between routine checks on the Negator. He was currently examining several cadavers laid out in a row of metal trolleys. Zola traditionally preferred to direct his research efforts towards weapons development. But his benefactor had sparked a deeper interest in enhancing human physiology. For one thing, Zola's robotic camera allowed him to view objects at a molecular level without needing a microscope. The scientist was about to resume work when he felt a familiar aura of dread.
Morgoth's consciousness appeared in the middle of the room. Zola immediately knelt before him. His master's visits were always unannounced. Nor could one be sure that you would be alive at the end of them.
"Lord Melkor," Zola first humbled himself.
The Dark Lord's visit represented something of a last-minute check. He first glanced at his servant's latest research.
"You are practicing necromancy?" Morgoth's question sounded like a threat.
"I was…going to tell you, milord," Zola meekly offered.
An ominous silence followed. Surprise visit or not, an audience with the Dark Lord was always an exercise in psychological intimidation on his part. Morgoth's servants could never be sure if they had displeased him or not. It meant even the most competent ones lived in fear of him.
"Have you forgotten what I told you?" Morgoth continued speaking with subtle menace. "My goal is not to destroy humanity. I come to give it strength and knowledge. Are you not the embodiment of that?"
"For which I'm infinitely grateful," Zola knew his only other alternative was oblivion.
"Indeed," The Dark Lord remarked before stroking his ego. "The war has reached a critical stage. Thanks to me, you will achieve what Schmidt never could – HYDRA being master of the world." He did not give the scientist long to enjoy it. "Assuming things are proceeding here as scheduled?"
"HYDRA agents continue to foment chaos, milord," Zola hurried to assure him. "We've started the massacres as ordered. The energies flowing into the Negator will strengthen you even further."
"It is working exactly as I envisaged," Morgoth had lied to him about the Negator's true purpose.
"When do you want me to deliver your message to the world?" Zola asked like a co-conspirator.
Morgoth almost burst out laughing. Despite being races and centuries apart, Zola reminded him of Maeglin. Each believed the Dark Lord when he promised they would be allowed to rule their respective people as his vassal.
"Soon, my friend," Morgoth decided to humour Zola. "I must first deliver a message to Arda."
As previously mentioned, Zola's appearance is based on concept art from Ant-Man. Maeglin was credited with forging the strongest steel weapons in Gondolin's history (possibly being the one who forged Glamdring and Orcrist). I won't deny the parallels of a brilliant weapons designer agreeing to serve Morgoth. But unlike with Maeglin, I'm sure Morgoth intends to keep his end of the bargain this time.
The White Tree sapling in the book was three-feet in height after 7 years. Its pure speculation on my part that vibranium would make it grow faster. I guess we'll have to see if faster growth rates will be the soil's only effect.
This story might be adventure / fantasy. But like the Russos implied in an interview, the Earth-199999 Infinity Stones don't transcend the principle of conservation of mass. Neither do the ones in the MTCU.
I've stated before my belief that denying others their humanity invariably causes us to lose our own. The Rwandan Genocide being one example of what it can ultimately lead to.
Mahamri are a type of Swahili bun. Yule is mentioned in Appendix D of LoTR.
I wanted to remove any uncertainty about Nakia in the MTCU. And if Shuri-616 can take up the mantle of Black Panther, I don't see why her Earth-199999 counterpart can't do the same.