I dismissed the portal, letting the burning red energies dissipate into nothingness, then flopped back down onto the couch behind me with a sigh. Pietro stepped over to sit down next to me, close enough that I could lean my head on his shoulder easily, which I did.

I’d opened the portal to just outside of the same Border Tribe village that Pietro and I had first arrived at when we’d originally gone to Wakanda. We hadn’t had a lot of other options given that we’d been blinded by hoods for most of our time in the country—our only other real options were directly inside the royal palace itself or the Heart-Shaped Herb fields in the City of the Dead, neither of which the Wakandans would have been particularly happy about the Avengers stepping directly into.

Given the Wakandans’ outstanding grievances against Pietro and I, Steve had made the call that we’d remain behind in Carol’s ship for now, while the rest of the team made contact and smoothed the way. Thankfully, he didn’t make any overt references to all the times he’d told me I needed to resolve the situation with Wakanda, but I could tell he was thinking about it.

We just needed to sit tight and wait for the signal. We’d avoided using the Avengers’ usual earpiece communicators, reasoning that their secure satellite channels were no longer secure and there was a good chance that the AI could intercept the transmissions. Instead, Carol had rigged up a simple pager, similar to the one Fury had—once they’d finished the initial negotiations and were ready for us to come down, they’d page us.

“…Will you tell me about Vision?” Pietro asked softly.

My eyes clouded up with tears again almost immediately and I had to blink them away. I still didn’t understand why talking about this hurt so much. “He was created accidentally,” I said, my voice slightly unsteady. “Ultron created a body for himself, a hybrid of organic material and vibranium. The Mind Stone was embedded in its forehead. He only partially uploaded himself into it before the Avengers took it from him. Stark… he wanted to try for his Ultron protocol, again, even after everything that had happened. They uploaded what was left of JARVIS, part of him that had escaped into the internet, but then got interrupted again. Then Thor… I don’t know. Used his divine magic, I suppose, and completed the process. Created a unique existence.”

“He wasn’t human?”

“No. That didn’t matter. Vision… he was there for me, after you died. He was new. Fully aware, fully a person, just missing all of the experiences. He knew I was hurting and wanted to help. He did, a little. A lot. We were there for each other. I…” I swallowed hard. “Sorry, I can’t. Not right now. Not while everything’s still happening.”

“It’s okay. I’m here, whenever you’re ready,” Pietro said, reaching over and squeezing my hand. We sat together quietly for a few minutes, until Carol wandered back over toward us from the cockpit.

She sat down across from us, studying me intently. “Fury told me that you claimed to have seen the future,” she said quietly. “I didn’t realise that it meant… all that. Seeing exactly how your life would have gone.”

“Sorry.” Sighing, I leant forward and dropped my head into my hands. “I know it was a lot. You barely even know me and then I dumped all of that on everyone.”

“You don’t have anything to apologise for,” she said, a slight crease to her brow. “We knew each other? In this future you saw?”

I lifted my head to look at her and noticed Pietro leaning forward as well, interested. I don’t think I’d ever mentioned Carol to him before bringing up her up with the Avengers, and even after that I still hadn’t really said much about her at all. “Incidentally. We fought alongside each other, once, against Thanos. I don’t think we ever spoke much outside of that.”

“But you know about me? You knew how I got my powers.”

“I saw a lot of stuff that I wasn’t personally there for. It’s… scattered. Bits and pieces. I didn’t get to choose, I only saw what was in front of me.” Not a lie, technically.

“So you saw me get my powers?”

“Honestly, I didn’t see that much of you. Not compared to people like Tony or Steve. I saw what happened with Mar‑Vell. You getting your powers… as Vers, fighting under Yon-Rogg. And I saw what happened when you found out the truth about yourself. Nothing past that, at least not until you returned to Earth to help fight Thanos. Nothing after that, either. Huh,” I said, straightening up as something occurred to me. “While you’re here, you really need to go see Maria and Monica.”

She blinked, caught off-guard by the suddenness of my comment. “What? Why?”

“Because they miss you, you big idiot. Oh!” My eyes widened as a second, much more important thing occurred to me. “Maria! She’s got cancer!”

“She what?”

“Sorry, I only just remembered. I don’t know if she already knows, or if it’s even happened at all yet. I saw her die, just a few years from now.” I saw the expression on Carol’s face and shot her a tight-lipped, apologetic look. “Sorry. Like I said, I only just remembered. Um, if you warn her, it might help. If she doesn’t already know she has it, maybe they can catch it earlier. It might make a difference. I don’t know for sure, sorry.”

Carol took a deep breath, then exhaled long and loud. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll go and see them. After we finish sorting this AI mess out.” Just then, an insistent beeping alarm sounded and we all perked up. “And there we go, looks like we’re good to head down.”

--

“Uh, Cap?” Clint said, an anxious edge to his tone. “Welcome wagon’s here.”

Ahead of them, a plume of kicked-up dust signalled the arrival of a dozen Border Tribesmen on horseback. The line of blue-and-orange-cloaked warriors that had formed up defensively in response to the Avengers’ approach raised their swords—the blades curving forward—and gave a wordless, hooting cheer at the arrival of their reinforcements. A deep, resounding horn echoed over the plain, the ground vibrating with the stamp of hooves. Natasha’s eyes widened slightly as the line of horsemen split to reveal three more riders mounted on enormous rhinoceroses thundering toward them, the morning sun glinting off the armoured plates of their harnesses.

They slowed as they approached the Avengers’ position, but from the same direction came four fast-moving aircraft, approaching in a staggered formation, with what looked like a shimmering heat between them. Their arrays of thin wings put Nat in mind of dragonflies—she’d never seen designs like that before, but they were clearly combat-capable; their lean, predatory profiles reminiscent of attack helicopters.

The shimmering air between the four craft suddenly dissipated, revealing another VTOL aircraft of a different type, its engines whisper-quiet. Its sleek, dark form recalled the Quinjet, but with a more rounded profile and absurdly advanced stealth capabilities. The underside of the vehicle was dominated by three large thrusters of some kind, pulsing with blue energy, and though it didn’t have traditional wing structures, its rear edges had rows of what must have been flight control surfaces of some kind, rippling in concert as it maneuvered into place.

It pulled ahead of the other aircraft, approaching them threatening, and the Avengers all prepared themselves to dive for cover or defend themselves. As it reached the front rank of the Border Tribesmen, a dark figure dropped out to land in a three-point superhero pose on the ground in front of them. Natasha only had what Wanda had told them to go on, but the sleek catlike outfit, black with silver accents, meant this had to be Prince T’Challa in his full Black Panther regalia. A dozen more soldiers followed and formed up around him—these were all women, as far as Natasha could tell, their shaved heads and red and silver armour marking them as the Dora Milaje, the Wakandans’ royal guard. The frontmost Dora’s armour was accented in gold instead of silver. That would be the general that Wanda had mind controlled. Not the ideal person for them to deal with.

This was a threat display—a show of force meant to cow them—and an impressive one at that, but the Avengers had fought off an alien army during the Battle of New York and taken out countless other threats together. It would take a lot more than this to shake their resolve.

Natasha squared up with the rest of the team. Steve had set himself in the centre and a step ahead of them, shield held ready to intercept any sudden attacks, Bucky and Tony flanking him. Tony himself had raised his hands defensively as well, repulsors giving a warning whine as they powered up. Clint stood back a little bit, bringing up the rear, his bow held ready but not drawn, eyes flicking between potential targets. Bruce stood next to her, looking a bit rattled, but his hands were clenched into fists and she could see the flesh of his neck discolour slightly, the Hulk straining to force his way out as the scientist held him in check.

“Your highness,” Steve addressed Prince T’Challa, raising his voice to be heard as he inclined his head respectfully. “I’m Captain Steve Rogers. We’re not here for a fight.”

The Black Panther slunk forward, his posture reminiscent of the prowling of the hunting cat for which he was named. “Oh, I know exactly why you are here, captain,” the Wakandan prince almost snarled. “You are here at the behest of the Red Woman. Wanda Maximoff.” His hands were out to the sides, claw-tipped fingers held at the ready.

Tony’s helmeted head turned slightly toward Steve. “I wouldn’t really say at the behest of, would you?”

Steve shot Tony an exasperated look as he held up a hand in a conciliatory gesture, though his shield was still ready in his other. “I know you and your people are extremely angry with Wanda, but please, we’re here because we need your help.”

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“Help?!” the Black Panther said incredulously. “You really believe that such a ruse would slip by us? No, captain. I am here to tell you that Wakanda will not be infiltrated. Not by the Red Woman and not by the likes of you, either. Leave Wakanda and never return. This is your only warning.”

“Prince T’Challa,” Natasha tried. “We’re not trying to infiltrate anything. If we could just explain—”

“Your explanations are meaningless. We will not yield to the Red Woman. Not after everything she has done—is still doing—to our country. If you will not leave, you will be made to!” the Black Panther spat, raising one fist in the air. “Border Tribe!”

The warriors shouted a wordless challenge in response, raising their forward-curving swords as they charged forward to surround the Avengers. T’Challa and his honour guard hung back, as did the mounted troops. The attack craft above them, however, surged forward, wheeling around agilely in the air to surround the team as their front-mounted weapons crackled with energy. The Avengers broke formation, dodging and scattering in all directions as bolts of sizzling blue energy, edged in angry red, blasted huge plumes of grass and earth into the air around them.

Another order came shouted over the field, “Amakhaka!”, and the Border Tribesmen’s charge suddenly halted, their forces arrayed in a rough semi-circle. The warriors whipped their blue and orange patterned cloaks around to the front and glimmering blue energy shields suddenly sprang into being in front of each one, creating a twelve-foot tall, multilayered barrier boxing the Avengers in and restricting their ability to evade the aerial assault. “Yibambe!” the Black Panther called and the Wakandan forces responded as one with a thunderous shout.

Tony leapt into the air, obviously moving to disrupt the barrier, but the rounded stealth craft fired on him from its two front-mounted cannons. The vehicle moved gracefully through the air, with far more agility than a craft of its size ought to, and Tony was forced to pull back and exchange fire with it.

At the same time, Bruce transformed as he moved, his giant green alter ego leaping easily over the barrier and landing on the opposite side with a defiant roar of rage. Wakandan warriors levelled their spears at him and thrust them forward, blue energy thrumming through the weapons out into blasts of sonic force. The Hulk was knocked back a pace, but recovered immediately and lashed out, snatching up one Border Tribesman in a hand and then throwing him at the others that were still boxing in the rest of the team, scattering them like bowling pins.

With the Wakandan line broken, the rest of the Avengers were suddenly among them, laying about with fist and shield and arrow.

Natasha closed with the Dora Milaje with golden accents—General Okoye—and narrowly dodged being impaled on the furious bald woman’s spear. She lashed out with her fist, activating the Widow’s Bite, but the Wakandan woman took it on her armoured shoulder, absorbing the blow. Nat spun away and ducked low under another thrust of the spear, throwing herself upwards under the attack suddenly causing the other woman to overbalance and almost lose her spear. As they wrestled, two more Dora closed in and Natasha’s eyes widened in alarm.

A moment later, one of the warriors dropped, an arrow in her shoulder, her muscles seizing as electricity coursed through her. The other one hesitated briefly to check on her comrade—Nat used the opening to blast her in the face with a charged Widow’s Bite, dashing her to the ground, before Okoye forced her back several paces.

Nearby, Bucky was holding off several more of the Dora while Steve fought the Panther directly in a whirlwind of blows and counterblows. He blocked an overhead claw strike with his shield and the prince raked his hand downward with a snarl, sending up sparks and leaving shallow but visible lines gouged in the vibranium.

Bucky pushed the Dora back and one threw her spear at him. That was dangerous—Natasha had seen first-hand what sort of damage a vibranium spear could do even to one of Tony’s armoured suits. Stepping to the side, however, Bucky caught the weapon out of the air with his metal hand and redoubled his assault, using the haft of the weapon to deflect and push aside the attacks directed toward him.

A half-dozen Border Tribesmen rushed to protect their prince, and Steve wheeled about, deflecting their swords with his shield. He kicked one in the chest hard enough to send the man tumbling back a dozen feet along the ground to lie still, but the others melted out of the way as one of their battle rhinos charged through the melee at high speed. He barely managed to interpose his shield between himself and the beast—it flung its head back, its armoured horn catching the edge of the shield and lifting Steve into the air as it slammed into him and sent him flying dozens of feet. He twisted in midair, bracing his body against his shield to reduce the impact when he hit the ground and tumbling out of sight.

Off to one side, one of the other rhinos charged the Hulk directly and he backhanded it across the side of the head with a clenched fist, sending the heavy beast tumbling to one side, gouging a deep furrow in the earth. Its legs flailed unsteadily—the thing was stunned, not dead—but it was down for the moment.

In response, one of the dragonfly-aircraft reared back, exposing its belly, and a massive harpoon-like weapon deployed from the bottom. The Hulk snatched the projectile out of the air and roared in defiance at the vehicle, then flinched back as crackling blue and orange lightning coruscated down the trailing line and across his arm. In a fit of rage, he yanked on the cable hard—the aircraft was almost pulled from the sky, dropping low to the ground before the cable was released and it was able to recover. Two more aircraft wheeled through the sky on opposite sides of the green giant, firing their own harpoons; they slammed into the Hulk’s back and shoulder, clamping on and sending spikes of coloured lightning lancing down into his body. The Hulk roared again and twisted, dragging them through the air slightly, and a third hit him on the chest.

The three aircraft strained to maintain their positions around the Hulk, their dragonfly-like wings splayed out as they resisted his attempts to pull them down while pouring what had to be a ridiculous amount of energy into his body. The giant went down to one knee under the onslaught, snarling and huffing, and for a moment Natasha thought they’d successfully restrained him. A moment later, he bellowed out a challenge, lunging forward a step as he hurled the first projectile at one of the aircraft. It smashed straight through the cockpit, obliterating the pilot, and there was an explosion as the smoking remains of the vehicle crashed to the ground.

Reaching out with both hands, the Hulk grabbed firmly onto the two remaining cables attached to him even as lightning carved paths across his forearms, wrenching them from side to side. The aircraft connected to them compensated for a moment, but then the green giant spun in a circle, hauling them along for the ride and managing to slam the two vehicles into each other. Their trailing cables detached before impact, giving them a chance to recover as they bounced off—one lost several of its wings and spun into a fall, crashing into the dirt, while the other managed to recover and backed off, pulling up and into the air.

Okoye’s attention was drawn by the commotion and Nat took advantage of her distraction, kicking her legs out from under her and putting her down for the count with a Widow’s Bite to the back of the head.

Bucky, however, was being sorely pressed by a group of three Dora. They’d surrounded him and pushed forward as he desperately deflected their thrusts with his stolen spear, locking the hafts of their weapons in a triangular formation around his torso. One yelled something: “Tshixa!” The weapons suddenly crackled with blue lightning and Bucky grunted in pain as he was forced to his knees, unable to move. The Black Panther whipped his hand out, claws extended, and advanced on him.

Natasha kicked a Border Tribesman’s knee before rolling over his back, trying to run toward them—she raised her Widow’s Bite but knew it was too far… She wasn’t going to make it. Just as T’Challa raised his arm to strike, Steve’s shield flew out and slammed into his back, sending him staggering forward into one of the Dora pinning Bucky.

The warrior woman stumbled, breaking the hold they had on Bucky, and suddenly the fight was on again. Steve caught his shield out of the air as he rejoined the fray. Natasha skidded to a halt next to him and caught his eye, an unspoken query passing between them.

“Send the signal! Call them in!” Steve acknowledged her, raising his shield just in time to deflect a Dora Milaje spear.

--

We stepped through the hole in space, travelling from the Hoopty to Wakanda in an instant, and came out looking at a warzone. Vast swathes of ground had been torn up and were littered with scorch marks and the crashed remains of several Wakandan aircraft. A lone dragon flyer remained in the air, wheeling around as we arrived to train its front-mounted sonic cannon on the Avengers, who were mostly clustered close together, fighting a defensive battle.

Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to have happened. I swore under my breath and gestured, wisps of red chaos magic flaring up around the aircraft. It would take too much effort to crush its vibranium chassis directly, so instead I thrust my hand toward the ground and sent it careening down to earth. Wings snapped off as the grounded flyer carved a furrow in the ground, bouncing twice before coming to a rest.

To my sides, Pietro darted out into the melee while Carol took to the air to provide some support. I shook my head, continuing to swear. We needed to stop this meaningless fight—not just win it. I scanned the melee and saw the Black Panther and several Dora Milaje trading blows with Bucky, Steve and Natasha.

“T’Challa!” I yelled at the top of my lungs as I blasted the ground with a pulse of red energy, boosting a jump to send myself hurtling toward them.

Several of the combatants turned their heads toward me as I approached, and General Okoye—of course it had to be her—let out a wordless cry of fury as she hurled her spear at me. I thrust out a hand and stopped the weapon dead in the air, scowling at her. Reaching out, I latched onto T’Challa with tendrils of energy and yanked him violently from the fight, pulling him toward me and suspending him in midair. One flick of the hand and I ripped his helmet off his head, exposing his face, then brought the blade of the General’s spear tight against his throat.

“T’Challa!” I growled again. “Stop this. Please. We didn’t come here to fight.”

The Dora Milaje had disengaged the others and were standing uncertainly in defensive poses, spears raised toward me. The Avengers pulled back as well, and around me the whole battle slowly paused as all eyes turned to us. Even the Hulk, panting and grunting angrily, paused to see what was happening—T’Challa’s Royal Talon had been grounded at some point and he’d been in the middle of doing his level best to smash it, the aircraft’s chassis starting to buckle and dent under the force of the repeated blows.

Holding up my hands in a surrendering gesture, I took the spear away from T’Challa’s throat and lowered him gently to the ground, releasing him from my telekinetic grasp. He met my eyes, face still twisted in anger. “You did not come to fight?! You batter at our gates and expect us to simply surrender?” he spat, incredulity in his tone.

“Hey, come on now, you attacked the Avengers first. Right?” I asked, looking askance at Steve. He nodded.

“You spend hours trying to seize control of our systems with endless cyberattacks and now you say that we attacked you first?!”

My eyes widened in realisation. “Oh. Oh. T’Challa, okay, listen to me,” I kept my hands up in a placating gesture as I talked. “Whatever’s been happening has nothing to do with me. Well, not nothing, but it’s not me. I swear. There’s an artificial intelligence on the loose—she sees Wakanda as a threat to her existence, just like us. She knows we already had some… uh… disagreements, but she’s using that, using you, doing whatever she can to keep us from working together.”

He was still breathing heavily, his forehead creased with anger, but he hesitated slightly. “That is your story?” he scoffed. “That is what you would have me believe?”

“Yes! Look around, T’Challa! Your forces were losing. I could have killed you literally right then and no one could have stopped me! If we wanted you dead, you’d be dead!”

Steve stepped toward us, lowering his shield. “Prince T’Challa, please. She’s telling the truth. Let’s just talk. This fight isn’t what we wanted. It’s not what we came here for. Whatever’s been happening here, maybe we can help you stop it.” He gestured around at the devastated field and smoking remains of crashed aircraft. “Too many people have already gotten hurt.”

T’Challa snarled wordlessly, flexing his arms—obviously considering throwing himself at me again—then took a deep breath and scowled again. “Fine,” he ground out angrily. “We will talk, then.”