"Yo, these niggas can't breathe when I come through
Hum too, some shoes, gotta be twenty man
It's not even funny they can't (Breathe)
The chokehold's too tight
The left looks too right
You know what? You right
These bitches can't (Breathe)

Look look, they hearts racin', they start chasin'
But I'm so fast when I blow past, that they can't (Breathe)
In the presence of the man
Your future looks better than your past
If you present with the man, you better (Breathe)"

Fabolous – "Breathe"

N'Jadaka took his children with him to Necropolis City.

Defeating the last challenger clinched the throne for him, and the moment they placed the claw necklace of the king around his neck, he knew the real work could begin. Hundreds of Wakandans witnessed his rightful ascension back to his place of power. Fearfully and wonderfully re-made, King N'Jadaka stood before his people and heralded a new age for the kingdom.

Riki was the first to reach him, clamoring for a hug, weepy-eyed, and mouth open to cry out "Baba!", gulping breath and choking on his words to express his happiness at having his father back. Joba circled her arms around his neck too, and N'Jadaka gazed at his eldest, Sydette, who stood wide-eyed, watching him.

"Sweet Pea," he said, and his daughter covered her eyes with her hands and wept.

No more. His children would never have to weep over him again. He was in control of the nation. He made the rules. Steered the ship. Mount Bashenga anointed him with an inner glow that everyone could see and feel. He read it on their faces. Most could barely look him in the eye without quaking in their shoes. He could feel it too and would use it to his advantage. Once his children were soothed and secure, his eyes automatically drifted toward Yani.

She was afraid of him.

Perhaps 'afraid' was too strong a word. Nervous? Unfamiliar with him?

Her gaze flitted across his entire body and there was an awe there. She looked away quickly, and he turned his attention back to the children before he glanced over at his grandfather and Disa. She stared at him in a way that reminded him of their days back at M.I.T. when they had talked all night out in the quad as best friends and comrades against American exploitation. His stay in the mountain realm had recalibrated every part of him. A new set of eyes took in Disa as a trusted companion. His love for her felt changed at that moment. She looked away first, and it was like a rubber band snapping against his skin, a sharp awareness and then a gradual fading.

When his piercing gaze latched on to Yani again, there was a distinct sensation that deepened in intensity. He wanted to touch her, speak to her. It had been so long since he had her in his presence, and there was so much to say.

But duty came first.

"Kumkani, we must leave for the Hall of Panthers," Lithemba said.

She lifted his hand in hers.

"I want my children to come with me… ride over there in the ship," he said.

Lithemba nodded and had her assistant guide the little ones toward the Royal Talon Fighter that hovered above them, waiting. N'Jadaka turned and waved at the crowd who yelled his name, starting another chant that made him give them all a sincere smile. There was so much to do before the huge international delegation arrived in Wakanda. He needed to speak with Nick Fury and also get Nakia up to speed with Ramonda's help.

Ramonda was familiar with many political leaders globally over the years and he needed a jump on all of their personalities and quirks. Regime changes always brought out the scavengers and jackals wanting to pick clean the bones of their enemies, and N'Jadaka was about to make Wakanda enemy number one to the world.

He had to prepare for war.

America was first on his list to destroy as a world power. They were the puppet masters that pulled strings all over the globe. Some Black intellectuals, including his own mother, were fond of quoting Audre Lorde's "the master's tools will never dismantle the master's house". N'Jadaka didn't want to disrespect elder wisdom, but the fact was, the C.I.A. did not train Lorde and she never acted in the capacity he had with dismantling entire nations. He had above and beyond the master's tools and training. His rule would devastate them at their own game soon enough.

Joba wouldn't stop staring at him.

As Riki and Sydette watched the world fly by below them, his youngest child studied his face. He kissed her cheek and fingers and settled into enjoying their youthful energy again.

"Can we call you King Baba now?" Sydette asked.

Her eyes twinkled looking at him.

"I'm still just Baba," he said, tugging on her hair beads.

"You were gone so long. Longer than you promised," Sydette said.

"I know. They wanted to make Baba perfect for you," he said.

"You were already that," Sydette said.

"Baba, can we come back and live with you?" Riki asked.

"You have a beautiful home—"

"The palace is our home," Riki insisted.

His son flopped his body across Erik's knees.

"We are supposed to be with the king!" Riki said.

King.

Hearing it from a child made it feel real.

He did it. A kid from Oakland making it all the way to king status on his own terms. The fairytale journey had been long and arduous. So much had been lost, found, and gained over the decades since he left California.

"Look, Baba," Joba said.

The Royal Talon Fighter swooped down and floated above the ongoing repairs for the Hall. The explosion that rocked it left visible scars on the structure that were slowly being covered. Their landing was soft, and he turned to his children.

"I will see you all tonight at the coronation ball," he said.

"Aw, we wahn stay with you," Riki whined.

"This part of the ceremony I must do alone. The Doras will take you back to the palace to rest and prepare for tonight."

He kissed and hugged each one of them.

"You can play in my suite with Grandpop until I return."

The children fretted but blew him kisses. He watched the ship fly off safely before he followed Lithemba into the Hall of Panthers. They strolled past the chambers of his ancestors and headed to an underground dwelling that he had been to before. Four years previously, he had ordered the priests there to burn all the sacred purple heart-shaped herb as a display of his power, knowing full well that Wakandans weren't stupid. They would have seeds saved to create more of the plant. But they wouldn't be able to grow it fast enough to get it to someone else before he changed the kingdom. They did, of course. Nakia had slipped into the chamber and stolen a plant before they burned down all the rest for him.

It was a slow-growing plant, blooming only after two years, so it did not surprise him to see a full garden batch glowing purple from the earthen floor beneath the kings and queens of the past.

"Come this way, King N'Jadaka," Lithemba said.

Altar children stood nearby, watching him with fearful eyes. A young shaman stood aside as N'Jadaka strode through, taking his position on the red earth, the dirt soft against his back. He wondered who would come to him this time. Where would he go? Back to a cramped Oakland apartment?

His heart beat faster, but he pushed back on any doubt that he was worthy of going back into the ancestral realm as a king. He was the Golden Jaguar. An Udaku. A child of the diaspora. It was his rightful time to rule.

Lithemba ground up a plump heart-shaped herb and prayed while she worked, heating it over a low fire near his head. The air in the chamber was thick with incense, and the cloying odor of the herb itself growing only four feet away from him.

"Drink, Kumkani… drink and relax," Lithemba said.

He lifted his head and swallowed down the bitter herb. The children helped bury the red earth all over him and there was a slight panic at having his face covered with dirt. The feeling left him as the heart-shaped herb took hold of him once more, reconfiguring his DNA and taking him under…

###

N'Jadaka pushed up through the soft earth.

Dressed in the same white knitted robes he wore on Mount Bashenga, he stepped out of his burial mound and into a mystical landscape painted in the hues of purple and blue aurora borealis lights shimmering across a twilight sky. It felt like the same astral dimension Bast kept him in back at her temple. It was familiar and comforting. In the distance, dark trees with flourishing canopies dotted the horizon, and one, in particular, caught his eye. The fruits it bore were several Black Panthers lounging across branches, watching him with shiny, glowing white eyes that turned dark lavender the closer he walked to them.

N'Jadaka stared up at the night sky as the lights danced above them, adding a touch of glowing green to the colors that made the stars twinkle so brightly. He took a deep breath, grateful to be outside and not locked inside a room from his past.

Two lounging panthers stood up from their branches and growled at him, forcing his attention back to them. They both dropped to the ground and a brilliant white light shapeshifted them into humans.

A man and a woman.

N'Jadaka dropped to his knees immediately, not prepared to face these particular ancestors.

"Rise child. You are a king once more. Our equal," the woman said.

Proud. Haughty. Elegant. Beautiful.

Queen Shuriyah stood in front of him in the flesh and tears fell from his eyes.

"This has been quite a journey, eh eh, no… do not wipe your eyes. I know who you are, my son," she said.

Shuriyah held out her hand toward the man next to her.

"Baba, look at your child," she said.

"N'Jadaka…"

The man's voice made him lower his head. The power within it was too much to take in. A mountain was named for him. An entire city. There would be no united Wakanda if not for him.

Bashenga. The Shaman King. The first to taste the heart-shaped herb and use vibranium to catapult his people into the future before the Europeans came out of their filthy caves. The first Black Panther.

"Hear me, son… look at me," Bashenga said.

The light from Bashenga's aura was greater than the lights glowing in the sky. N'Jadaka raised his eyes to level with his greatest grandfather and he recognized an equal.

"It is rare for Bast to come to rulers. She appears only to those that have the task of shifting the tide of the people. I was the first," Bashenga said.

"I was the second," Shuriyah said.

"You are the third, my precious grandson," Bashenga said.

A cultural weight drifted onto N'Jadaka's shoulders. He lifted it and grew accustomed to how it felt carrying it.

"Becoming king is not an easy feat for any Udaku, but our family has prevailed in ruling for centuries because we have always kept a vision of where we wanted Wakanda to be. I am afraid that the old ways have not suited us," Bashenga said.

He wore a large-plumed feather headdress, and a bright scarlet robe draped over one shoulder. He carried a spear and his regal, dark face rested in wisdom. Shuriyah shared the same blood-red colored robe with a tall isicholo. She held her body the way it looked in the painting hanging in his personal office. Older in appearance, she still had the flame of power in her eyes.

N'Jadaka glanced above her head. The light in the sky shifted colors, the evening glow growing lighter with pinks and pale orange until it was daytime, and they stood in a lush grassland green with growing things all around them. Other panthers in the trees dropped and shimmered into his other ruler ancestors, watching him with keen eyes and heads held high like they were honored to see him.

"The tragedy that befell our family brought you here. We needed new eyes… a new voice… a new vision to lead us in the coming troubles… and there is trouble coming, my son. This day and age needs new blood, and your father made us a valuable king. You are a unique man, N'Jadaka. Being a king will not be your only triumph. Inside of you is the wisdom of the diaspora that we turned our backs on long ago," Bashenga said.

"That way of thinking served us for a time," Shuriyah said.

"Why did you go out into the world, Umama, and come back without ruling it all?" N'Jadaka asked.

He had read his father's journals and knew the questions that N'Jobu wanted answers to.

"Our people were not ready to engage with a vast barbaric world," she said. "I saw firsthand what I wished not to be a part of. Tyrants and weakness. Uncivilized people from other places would wage war on us forever to take what is ours. As humans, we made choices you may think unwise or selfish from your era. But you will learn as king that not everyone can see from your vantage point. But now…"

Shuriyah held her hands open and stepped closer to him. She clasped her hands over his and the warmth made him cry again.

"Our people have someone who has been in the world and is from our culture. Your father brought you up as a Wakandan as best he could. Your mother gave you the tools to ready you for ruling Wakanda better than anyone I know of. You, N'Jadaka, were meant to take us into the future. You carry Bast, that rascal, Ogum, and the love of a people who endured centuries of cruelty inside your soul. Who better to lead in this new age, hmm? You came right on time, child. Bend the world on its knees for our people everywhere. We all stand with you and T'Challa. Think of him not as your cousin, but as your brother from now on."

Bashenga placed a hand on N'Jadaka's shoulder.

"Your father and uncle have reconciled. Ease your heart and mind. You are on the right path for our people. It is our time to come out from hiding. Be the light, N'Jadaka—"

"And also the blade, if you have to," Shuriyah affirmed.

N'Jadaka stood taller. He drank in their words. The light in the sky grew brighter. Shuriyah touched his face and Bashenga squeezed his shoulder.

"Go back knowing that all the ancestors stand with you and your brother. The Black Panther and The Golden Jaguar must stand tall and strong," Bashenga said.

N'Jadaka could feel his spirit fading from their realm.

"I won't let you down," N'Jadaka called out as the glow of light blinded him.

The faint vision of Shuriyah floated in the brightness.

"Tell my namesake that I am proud of her," Shuriyah said.

N'Jadaka grinned. Shuri would probably faint when he told her their greatest queen mother watched over her like that.

Red earth choked him as he gasped for air in the world of the living.

N'Jadaka coughed and twisted his body to the side, moving the soft earth away from his stomach and thighs. A young boy brought him water, and he gulped it down. Lithemba knelt down next to him and wiped his face with a warm purple cloth to remove the dirt.

"I saw the Shaman King and my greatest grandmother," N'Jadaka yelped.

Lithemba smiled and gently cleaned his skin, helping him up from the ground. He shook his arms and legs. Sniffing his hands, he caught a whiff of their scent still on him. His body felt feverish and he couldn't stop shaking. They were actual flesh and blood and he saw them… spoke to them. More importantly, they knew him. He was no strange foreign child… he was theirs and they told him so.

"Bring T'Challa to me!" he ordered, grabbing his white robe and tying it around him.

He had to talk to his brother… and Shuri right away.

N'Jadaka hustled away from Lithemba and crossed past the garden of heart-shaped herbs. Flinging the chamber doors open, he ran into his grandparents, Umama, Baba Z, and Dante. He couldn't talk fast enough to tell them who he met on the ancestral plane. Umama stroked his face and led him to an antechamber that was brand new. N'Jadaka's eyes grew wide.

"What is all this?" he said.

Baba Z chuckled, and Dante wiped his eyes. Umama patted his arm and led him inside.

"When I first saw you with my own eyes, I said some things that were not kind when I thought about it later. My sweet grandson, you were the one we have been waiting for. Bast moves in mysterious ways, but your Umama is a little more direct… see…"

A diamond and vibranium sarcophagus stood under the gentle glow of eternal flame candles that surrounded it. A breathtaking wall-sized gold plaque glowed with the brilliance of its Wakandan symbols etched into it. He made out most of the words.

"Umama," he said, gripping her hand tight.

Umama's hands shook, and she blinked rapidly while staring into his face. Baba Z touched the sarcophagus.

"This is for your people, grandson. For the ones who jumped off those ships so long ago into the ocean, and for the ones who lived and made a way out of no way. Understand?" Baba Z said.

"We want to hold a space for them here among our kings and queens. Without them, you would not be here. Our great-grandbabies would not be here, bringing us joy and showing us the future. The diaspora is truly the lost tribe. They will no longer be lost to us here," Umama said.

"Thank you," N'Jadaka said.

He admired the beauty before him and held Dante's hand.

Noxolo and Quamba entered the chamber.

"King N'Jadaka, the Black Panther waits for you back at the palace. Are you ready to depart?" Noxolo asked.

Noxolo still would not gaze at him directly, nor would Quamba.

"Yes," he said.

He kissed all of his grandparents and left them in the resting place of his lost-found kin.

###

Disa dressed in the tailored metallic bronze and gold dress befitting a royal in the palace. Applying gold lipstick to her dry lips, she geared up to face N'Jadaka again. The moment they crowned him king, no one called him Erik anymore. It was only right. His American name meant king anyway, so it was redundant to use. Califia had been wise to name her son what he would become later in life.

King N'Jadaka.

She wiped away the small trickle of a tear from her left eyelid. He was not the same man anymore. Emotionally, she accepted that, but watching him after he won his claim to the throne, her mind finally accepted it too. Her last intimate moment with him in her suite would be her last. The knowledge of that came over her suddenly because of the aura he carried. They no longer had any unfinished business on a personal level. Had she wanted him, she would've taken him back a long time ago. But the fact of the matter was that they had a glorious season that had difficulties, but Allah solidified their attachment as best friends. Disa loved him, flaws and all. However, King N'Jadaka was another person, and she was not meant to walk that road with him as his woman.

She wasn't sad about it. Affirming it freed her from doubting her needs as a woman with her own mission in life, to work by his side, raise their child together and move the nation forward with her input.

His heart belonged to Yani.

She knew it while spending the last two weeks in St. Thomas. Leona showed her that truth by all the affection she had for N'Jadaka while sharing little tidbits about her time with him there. She let slip other stories about him caring for Sydette, protecting Yani from naysayers, and looking out for anyone connected to her. He really slowed down and lived for once. He never had that opportunity with Disa. They were always on the go, getting through school, getting through the Navy and Black ops, and all the other things she thought was life but were just the constant influx of moving toward something that was not a part of her. Wakanda had been N'Jadaka's destiny and even she couldn't keep up with him on that journey, not the way he needed. It was no one's fault.

Time slowed down for him in St. Thomas, forcing him to be present in a way that he lost as a child. He and Disa had fleeting moments here and there, but the island gave him two years to rest. Allah blessed her with a child from him, but he was made for someone else. That last revelation gave her a soothing peace. Watching N'Jadaka fight at Warrior Falls gave her a security she had missed for years. They were both where they were supposed to be.

As wild as it felt, Adebiyi had a lot to do with that feeling of acceptance.

After Marisol and Dante left the island, Disa spoke to Adebiyi every night, trying to glean any palace gossip she could about what was happening on Mount Bashenga. When he had nothing viable to offer from his talks with M'Baku, they both started pondering how Wakanda would be after Challenge Day. She opened up about her dreams for the country and Adebiyi listened to her with an open mind, letting down his guard about his fears for the future.

His Jabari stubbornness came from a people who had been overlooked for centuries by the Udaku clan. Until T'Challa stepped up, they were treated as throwaway people. Working for Disa gave him some new insight and worry, but talking freely away from work opened him up to a different way of seeing her. More than anything, they liked each other.

Back in Wakanda, she couldn't wait to speak to him as preparations for the coronation whirled around them. She had tea with Adebiyi in the royal garden and invited him for a meal with the royal family while Joba spent a few days with Yani and her siblings. He spoke to her like a human being and, by their second tea date to discuss coming to the Jabari lands, Disa knew he was attracted to her. He had stopped sucking his teeth whenever she said something that he questioned. That was a big deal.

She kept her feelings about him discreet from everyone, including Adebiyi. The idea of going up to his land before N'Jadaka was king crossed her mind a lot, but she opted to wait until she saw him again before striking out on something as ridiculous as a grown-up crush. At her big ole age? With a man who carried so much disdain when he first met her? Madness! Pure, sweet madness for sure.

And what would N'Jadaka think? His feelings mattered to her, and she didn't want to embarrass him or bring critical eyes to his rule. For the time being, she just wanted to get to know Adebiyi better, work with him, and create something wonderful for her new homeland. He matched her energy in ways that surprised her, even through his stubborn exterior. Plus, he was older, something that she always found attractive in men. N'Jadaka had been an anomaly in her love life, the youngest man she had ever gotten mixed up with.

Shaking her head at all the jumbled thoughts running through her head, Disa admired her beauty in the mirror. She was an older woman who had done amazing things in her life before and after N'Jadaka. There was more on the horizon for her. Adebiyi was giving her an inkling of all kinds of possibilities to enjoy other men. For a moment, she thought she could share love for a man with Yani, but her feelings for the king had shifted away from the romantic to the platonic, and a more sisterly kinship. Her faith had always delivered what she needed, and she trusted in that.

"Joba!" Disa called out.

Her daughter ran into the room with her nanny, Osilee, a cute, plump woman with laughing eyes and a kind nature.

"Oh, look how pretty you look! Osilee, you did a wonderful job with her hair!"

Disa touched the intricately twisted curls decorated with purple ribbons. Joba twirled around in her gauzy gold dress and little kitten heels.

"Let's go! Let's go!" Joba shouted, grabbing Disa's hand and pulling her towards the door.

"Alright, alright little girl!" Disa said.

"Have a wonderful evening, Lady Abdullah," Osilee said. "I will watch everything on the vid screen."

"Oh, I wish you would come with us," Disa said.

"I would be too nervous, but I will come for Princess Joba when you are ready for her bedtime tonight."

"I left you a surprise in your closet."

"My closet?"

"You didn't look?" Disa said.

Osilee walked away from them and headed to the back of their home. Joba shook her hands with excitement.

"Will she like it?" Joba asked.

"We will see," Disa said.

Moments later, they heard a loud shout and Osilee scurried back to them, carrying a delicate peach ball gown made just for her.

"Lady Abdullah… this is too much!" Osilee said.

"You will look beautiful!" Joba said.

"No matter what you decide, there is a table set aside for our personal staff to join us for the dinner and reception. Everyone will be there. No need to sit in the house and watch it when you can be there with us," Disa said.

Weepy-eyed, Osilee clutched the dress to her chest.

"I don't want to hold you up," Osilee said.

"You won't. Go on and change. You can go with us."

"But you are royalty—"

"You take care of my child and make sure my home is kept together when I'm working."

"Oh, this is not happening…."

"It is. Go on."

Disa waved her hands to shoo Osilee away to get ready. Her kimoyo beads lit up, and she tapped one bead to open her front door. Dante and Yani were there with the other children.

"You all look wonderful!" Disa said.

She gave Dante a hug and greeted her daughter's siblings with affection.

"Yani?" Disa said.

Yani dressed in an elegant, pale gold strapless gown with pale yellow diamonds glued across her clavicle. Delicate gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears and her impeccable make-up made her glowing brown skin look like satin.

"Is everything alright? Are you sick?" Disa asked.

She pulled Yani away from the children and cornered her near a fireplace.

"I'm so nervous… to see him," Yani whispered so Dante wouldn't hear.

Disa held her hand.

"You saw him, Disa. He's… beyond different. I'm not ready to face him. So much has happened since he's been away, and I don't—"

"Listen to me. Tonight, we'll have all the family with us. It'll be hectic, but many people will surround us with fun, and you won't have to think about anything else."

"He's all I think about. All day. Remy fought against him. The man I chose to take care of our children tried to kill him. I can't even look at him… you felt that too… his energy is so strong… like he can control everything... everyone."

"The mountain changed him, yes. But Yani, we have to go to the throne room with all of his family, and that includes us. We will walk behind him across the bridge and face the nation together. I'll be there with you, and it won't be so unsettling."

Disa cradled Yani's cheek.

"I promise," Disa said.

Yani inhaled and let out a shuddery breath.

"Lady Abdullah."

Disa turned to find Osilee dressed up. She touched her short braids and looked down at the flattering gown, seeking Disa's approval.

"Beautiful… you look beautiful," Disa said. "Doesn't she look amazing, Yani?"

Yani nodded, and turning her attention onto someone else helped calm her nerves.

"We better leave before we hold up the pre-gathering," Disa said.

Yani followed her back to the others, and their personal Doras waited for them at the front door. They walked through the palace with chattering children and clacking heels. When the giant double doors of the throne room were opened for them, Disa and Yani both had the wind knocked out of them.

King N'Jadaka sat on the throne and peered at them both with assertive, commanding eyes. Instead of the royal black robes, he was adorned in bright ivory, his hair piled high and his nose ring gleaming as bright as the beads in his beard. Disa clutched at her chest, and Yani's reaction mirrored her own. That man was more than a king. He was magnificent.

Her heart raced in her chest and she glanced down at their daughter.

"Baba!" Joba yelled.

N'Jadaka stood from his throne and the large extended family parted like the red sea to let his children come through. The Council of Elders stood to the side of the throne with T'Challa, whose ivory tunic and trousers matched the king's colors. After greeting his children, the elders spoke to the family and made the final declaration welcoming N'Jadaka to his sacred duty of protecting Wakanda and all of its citizens. A celebratory shout broke the serious tension afterward and relatives hugged and patted the new king.

He walked through the gauntlet of the family toward Disa and Yani, holding the hands of Riki and Joba. Sydette clung to his robe with a wide grin plastered across her proud face.

"Disa," N'Jadaka said.

"Your Highness," Disa greeted.

A sly smile moved his beautiful lips, and he leaned over and kissed her cheek. She closed her eyes and savored the sound of love in his voice, but also the visceral power he exuded from every pore in his body. They would indeed be the best of friends forever, and she relaxed in his presence.

"Congratulations, king," Disa said with a hint of teasing.

He nodded and turned toward Yani. She held her head down shyly with her hands threaded together in front of her. His energy was overwhelming and Disa couldn't blame Yani for keeping her eyes downcast.

"Yani," he said.

Yani gasped, and her shoulders shook.

"Look at me," N'Jadaka commanded.

Yani slowly raised her head, and a tear rolled down her face.

Drummers pounded out the king's march, and a griot plucked the delicate strings of a Wakandan lyre made from the long horns of an ancient antelope. Another musician played a small kalimba, giving the lyre a gentle companion sound.

"Make way for King N'Jadaka!" Noxolo yelled, stepping next to him.

N'Jadaka took his thumb and wiped away Yani's tear before kissing her forehead.

"Don't be afraid of me," he told her.

Yani nodded, and he left her side, sweeping into the wide halls with the swagger of a god, his children in tow.