Chapter 1. The Void

Six months. It had been six months since Namor's defeat. Since he had been brought to his lowest, forced to submit to the titular Black Panther. Since that monumental day, Wakanda had experienced peace. Well, objectively speaking of course. Many lives had been lost in that battle and the initial attack. Among them, Queen Mother. Shuri's mother.

For her, there was no such thing as "peace." It was nothing more than a vague concept. While Wakanda hadn't experienced any war or attacks since the day she solidified herself as the Black Panther, there was a war happening in her mind. Her heart. Her very soul was now consumed with...emptiness.

When T'Challa died, she was so hurt and so angry. When her mother died, she almost crumbled beneath the weight of her own hatred and bitterness. Now, she had accepted that both of them were gone. Forever. There was nothing she could say or do to bring them back. It was over. She could be at pea-

No.

That very word rekindled the anger she thought had been extinguished. The anger she thought had dissipated that fateful day on the beach. The day she met her brother's son. The future heir to the throne. A symbol of hope for Wakanda. A symbol that her brother did still live on, even if in another person. She thought these feelings were behind her once and for all.

But as she stood in her lab, gazing lifelessly at her latest project, anger was the only emotion she could even begin to register. She had become convinced all her other emotions died with her family. That a part of her died with them.

"We could burn the world together."

Shuri flinched. The anger rose again, full force. She needed a distraction. Fast.

"Griot?"

"Yes, your highness?"

"Show me the schematics for the shield upgrades."

"Yes, your highness."

Ever since Namor's unexpected, and highly unwanted, intrusion into Wakanda, Shuri had been focused on making their invisible shields truly impenetrable. They had made the mistake before of thinking their home was invincible. It wouldn't happen again.

"The upgrades are in place, your highness. Would you like a percentage of their effectiveness?" Griot asked.

"Yes, please" Shuri replied, enhancing the image the A.I. had displayed before her.

"The estimated percentage of effectiveness without the consideration of attack, is 150%"

"And with that consideration?"

"120%, your highness."

Shuri frowned. That wasn't good enough. To the untrained and ignorant mind, those were beyond perfect numbers. In hers, it was pathetic. With all the technology at her disposal, their shields should easily be capable of 200% effectiveness. If not more.

"Destroy these blueprints. Start over" Shuri commanded.

"Are you certain, your highness? This is the highest percentage we've reached so fa-"

"I don't recall asking you for an opinion."

"Yes, your highness."

Shuri sighed deeply, leaning against her desk. The anger she'd felt earlier had diminished. But in it's wake was something far more terrifying: A void. A dark, evil, sickening, void. It consumed Shuri, until it was all she knew. Anger was the only emotion as of late that could breech the void's bottomless depths. It brought color to it, even if that color was a blood red. It was something. Something was far better than the nothing she'd become so accustomed to.

"I do not wish to be a bother, your highness" Griot spoke suddenly. "But I've checked your vitals, and your blood pressure is 128/76. You are also experiencing tachycardia, with a BPM of 120. I strongly suggest you get more rest."

"If I need it, I'll get it" Shuri snapped.

"You have also been experiencing mood swings, and bouts of depression. These are all strong indicators of sleep deprivation. You cannot effectively rule a kingdom if you have not slept, your highness."

Shuri was just about to let out another snide remark, but held her tongue. She did feel insanely sluggish lately. No matter what she was doing, it felt as though a 1000 pound weight had been strapped to her chest. Leaving her choking, clawing, desperate for oxygen.

Shuri sighed once again. Perhaps Griot was right. No, she knew he was. She just didn't want to admit it. To herself more than anyone or anything else.

"Lock up the lab for the night" Shuri said, heading for the elevator door.

"Yes, your highness. I hope you're able to get some adequate rest. Would you like me to blend some herbs that could assist you in relaxing?" Griot asked.

"No, thank you. I have something else in mind" Shuri replied, stepping into the elevator.

"As you wish, your highness. Good night."

The door closed, the elevator swiftly leaving the lab floor. Shuri stood in silence as she waited the literal five seconds it took to reach the bottom floor. She'd barely set foot out the door, when she nearly collided with Okoye.

"Princess, I was just about to come check on you."

Shuri resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was practically smothered by the Dora Milaje, and every other person in Wakanda, since her mother's passing. She understood their concern, it just wasn't necessary.

"Why would you? I was in my usual place" Shuri said, casually strolling past her.

Okoye was two steps behind her. "I'm well aware. I'm also aware you haven't been sleeping."

Shuri slowed her walk. That stupid A.I. had ratted her out! She was gonna have to make some adjustments in it's coding to prevent that in the future.

"I am fine, Okoye. I always am."

"Exactly. You say it, but I know you don't mean it. You haven't been well in months."

"That's funny. I don't recall you being so concerned then."

"Prin- Shuri. Please. I'm concerned about you."

Shuri finally stopped walking, turning to face Okoye. It wasn't often any of the Dora Milaje spoke to her interpersonally. Okoye most of all. While her and Shuri had always been close, there was an air of professionalism that Okoye consistently maintained. Even when being humorous. she did it in a regal fashion.

"You are correct, I haven't been sleeping well. I do, however, intend to do something about it" Shuri spoke.

Okoye visibly sighed in relief. "That is comforting to hear, your high-"

"I'm heading outside of Wakanda for a walk."

"You what!?"

Shuri spun on her heel and continued strolling in the direction of the flight deck. Okoye was hot on her heels, yelling at her every step of the way.

"Princess! This is a most unwise decision! Griot was right about you! You've started losing your sanity!"

Oh she was definitely gonna be adjusting some codes now. Or, more like tomorrow.

"Ey! Kid! You gonna sit there and stare into space forever or you gonna order something?"

Peter was snapped back into reality by the waiter's voice. The poor guy looked like he was on the verge of losing his patience at any moment.

"Uh yeah! Sorry. I'll just have a small pepperoni" Peter hurriedly replied.

"And to drink?"

"Uh, a root beer."

"We're out. But I can do an actual beer if you'd like. Look like you could use it anyways."

Gee, thanks for the sympathy pal.

"Yeah I'll do that."

"What kind?"

"Kind of what?"

"Beer, genius."

"Oh. Uh, BudLight."

The waiter finished writing down Peter's order. He practically snatched the menu from him. Muttering, "It'll be ready in about 12" under his breath before scurrying off.

Peter sighed. The food here? Pretty good. The customer service? It left a lot to be desired. It was one of his favorite spots to frequent, however. Not so much cause of the cuisine, as much as the memories.

"Come on, Peter! Trust me! This place is totally worth it. Besides, we both know anything is better than my cooking."

"That's not true! You only half burned that lasagna the other night!"

"Peter! Don't talk to your aunt like that!"

"Babe, you know I'm just teasing her. Aren't I, Ned?"

"I mean, at least she doesn't burn water."

"That was ONE time and it was only because I miscalculated the water to pot ratio!"

"How on earth do you "miscalculate" something that simple?"

"Are you seriously taking his side on this? I thought you were my girlfriend!"

"Yeah, well being a "good" girlfriend, means I'm honest with you. Whether it hurts your feelings or not."

"See, Pete? She's a keeper! Don't you even think about losing her."

"What!? I would ne-"

"Here's your beer, kid." A glass was set down firmly in front of Peter. Startling him out of his reverie once again. He mustered a quiet, "Thank you", to the waiter before taking a sip. He cringed. He hated beer. Why'd he even order one? Oh yeah. To "take the edge off", as they'd say. He knew that was, A. Only really a placebo effect. B. Whatever effect it did have would be temporary. And C. The pounding headache and upset stomach the next day wouldn't be worth it. Was this enough to stop him from practically inhaling the glass? Of course not.

If Peter had learned anything from the past six months, it was this: Pain was better than emptiness. The emptiness he'd been feeling the past few months was enough to drive the most sane person into a complete psychological break.

When he'd first lost May, MJ, and Ned, he'd felt so sad and bitter. To the point where the emotions so deeply consumed him, he felt he might drown in them. He wanted nothing more than for it all to stop...

Then, it did. The tidal wave of emotions finally stopped pulling him under. But much to his surprise, instead of a steady sea for him to eventually adjust to the ebb and flow of, it drained right out from under him. Now, that once endless ocean, was a dry, dark, abyss. It sought to destroy him. Or at least, a twisted part of him hoped it would. Maybe then, he'd feel something again.

How cruel irony was. First he wanted nothing more than to stop feeling, now he wanted to feel just something! Anything! He wanted that ocean to come back, maybe outright drown him this time. Instead of being left in this...void. The void was as empty and endless as the anger in himself, and he hated every bit of it. Hell, he hated himself at this point.

If it weren't for his stupid attempts to live a "normal" life, he'd have a "normal" life! He'd still have the woman who raised him and loved him as her own son. He'd still have his girlfriend, that loved him for who he really was. Not just who he appeared to be in the public's eye. He'd still have his best friend, who'd been there for him through it all.

The only thing he had now, was the endless void. What once used to be so full of life and color, was now empty and dark. The only thing that brought it any light was his anger, but he knew that would inevitably destroy him. Maybe he should let it. Maybe he should...

"Here's your small pepperoni. Careful, it's hot." The waiter set the pizza down in front of him.

"Thank you, sir." That was the kindest Peter felt he'd spoken in months.

The waiter couldn't have cared less, though. He simply nodded and walked away. Leaving Peter to decide whether or not he'd take seriously his warning about the pizza's temperature.

Peter hesitantly picked up a slice, blowing on it a few times before taking a bite. His attempts to cool it, however, weren't successful enough. It still burned his mouth and throat slightly upon entry. He couldn't be bothered to flinch, though. After all, this was something. Some kind of feeling. Or at least a semblance of it. Who cared if it hurt?

He continued sipping his beer and eating his pizza while gazing out the restaurant window. From his booth, he was able to people watch. While it was far more satisfying to do so from the top of a building, it was still pleasant to do from ground level as well. He watched as people foreign to him walked down the streets. Countless individuals with countless stories. A single parent, worn out but smiling down at their child. Two girls, who were obviously best friends, laughing and chatting about the constant "drama" in their everyday lives. Then, a happy couple holding hands as they crossed the street. The guy even took the time to spin his girl, making her laugh and lean into him affectionately.

The void was burning again. With nothing but anger and grief. Peter forced himself to look away. His leftover pizza had long since gotten cold. His beer was mostly finished, but since it was the most expensive item of his meal, he chugged what remained. It didn't taste quite so dreadful now. He paid for his meal and left a tip for the waiter. The man was at least nice enough to wave at Peter as he exited, wishing him a "Good night." Not that it mattered. He hadn't had one of those in a long time.

Peter pulled his hoodie up before making his way back to Queens. He had ventured over to Port Washington not only to grab a bite to eat, but he'd also stopped a potential robbery while he was there. He'd beaten the guys responsible into submission, then left them "webbed up" as he liked to call it, for the police to officially arrest. The shop owner they'd been targeting thanked him endlessly. But sadly, even that no longer brought Peter any emotional gratification. Sure, helping innocent people stay safe in a terribly dangerous world was great, but it wasn't so great when you had nobody to go home to. Peter had taken up residence at a Stark Industries Apartment after losing Aunt May. Happy Hogan had been kind enough to set him up with a place to stay after all that happened. While technically being the only person left who really knew who he was, they weren't exactly close. They got along, sure. But it was nothing overly interpersonal. Peter preferred it that way. Personal relationships were no longer an option for him.

Peter waited at a crosswalk, rocking back and forth on his heels aimlessly. Suddenly, an all too familiar feeling ran up his spine. He froze, putting a hand to the back of his neck. His hairs were standing on end. He immediately scanned the area, searching for danger. He didn't see an immediate threat. Nobody looked suspicious or out of place. That is, until he saw a girl walking right out into a busy intersection.

The taxi barreling towards her blared the horn, slamming on the breaks. It wouldn't have mattered, though. If it weren't for Peter snatching her out of the way, she'd have flipped right over the roof and slammed onto solid pavement. The taxi driver gave another irate blare of the horn before speeding off.

Peter's senses returned to normal, and he relaxed. Well, as much as he could before being promptly elbowed in the gut. He gasped in shock, not only from the unexpectedness, but the fact that this random girl had actually managed to hurt him with a weak blow. Or at least, what was weak by his standards.

"The hell is wrong with you!? Let go of me freak!" She snapped, scrambling to get out of Peter's grip.

"Excuse you! I just saved you from becoming roadkill!" Peter snapped back, completely offended.

"Yes, and I am eternally grateful! But you've been holding me for almost five minutes now! I've been telling you to let go and you wouldn't!"

He what!? Had he zoned out for that long!? Peter immediately backed away from the girl, putting his hands up in surrender.

"I'm so so sorry! I don't know what came over me! I promise, I wasn't trying to cop a feel or anything!" Peter exclaimed.

"For your sake, I really hope not" She snarled, adjusting her clothes.

Now that was a bold statement. What makes her so sure she'd be able to take on me? Besides calling the cops on me, of course...

"I'm genuinely sorry, miss. I just zoned out I guess. Must've been the shock. I mean, you almost got creamed!"

The girl sighed, seemingly more frustrated than outright angry at him. In fact, it didn't even seem to be him she was frustrated with. "It's fine. I'm at fault too. I should've been paying attention. I appreciate you saving me. I am indebted to you."

The girl folded her arms across her chest and gave a slight bow towards Peter. Not sure how to respond, he simply nodded his head back. "It's nothing. Anybody would've done the same."

"You have more confidence in people than I. Although, I'm not sure anybody else would've been able to move that quickly regardless" She replied.

Peter gave a slight chuckle. "I suppose you're not wrong there."

"I should be on my way now. I'll make sure to look both ways before crossing this time" A slight smile also appeared on her face when saying that. Peter briefly considered how stunning her smile was.

"Yeah I'd definitely do that if I were you."

The girl smiled again slightly before turning back to the crosswalk. As promised, she checked both directions before continuing her journey.

Peter watched her go, caught in some weird trance. Once again, he found himself frozen in place for quite a few minutes. Even after she'd disappeared into the crowd. This time, though, it didn't take an elbow to the gut to snap him out of it.

He was just about to start waking again, when something shiny caught his eye. A bracelet, which was glowing blue, lay on the ground a couple inches in front of him. He picked it up, examining the ornate beads and decorations on them. The girl must've dropped it in the struggle to get him off her. It was far too late to get it back to her now though. Peter bit his lip, deciding to keep it. Perhaps he'd run into her again soon and be able to return them. He'd go patrolling tomorrow and see if he could find her. Obviously he wouldn't reveal his identity. He'd just find some way to plant it where she'd find it, without being seen.

Peter restarted his walk home. Although, there was a bit more pep in step now. Why? He wasn't sure. He was still vaguely aware, though, of a pain lingering in his gut from where he'd been hit. He'd check on it once he got to the apartment.

After jogging up the steps to his apartment, and unlocking the door, Peter headed straight for the bathroom. Flipping the light on with one hand, he lifted his shirt with the other. He was startled by what he saw.

A purple bruise was clearly forming right where the girl's elbow had met his stomach. Peter tried thinking back to the robbery he'd intercepted. Had he been hit by any of the criminals as well? No, and even if he had his accelerated healing would've kicked in by now. The bruise would be either gone or close to it.

The only possible explanation was the girl had genuinely hit him hard enough for it to bruise. But...how? She was just an average girl...right?

Peter leaned against the sink in thought. He reached in his pocket, pulling the bracelet out. He twirled the beads around in his hand. Thinking back, he considered the way she'd bowed to him in thanks. Still gazing at the bracelet, he paused upon seeing a particular inscription.

Wait a minute...I've seen that before.

Peter walked out of the bathroom, heading in the direction of his office. He flipped the switch, sitting down in his chair.

"Hey, Friday?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"Scan this bracelet and tell me where it originates from."

"Right away, Peter."

A bright green light appeared from a nearby hologram, scanning over the bracelet twice. The screen displayed a loading bar, uploading the information it had received. After about 15 seconds, an image of a grand fortress appeared before Peter.

"This bracelet appears to have origins rooted in Wakanda" Friday said.

Wakanda? Peter was at a loss for words. Who was that girl?