Post by strawhatjugh24 on Nov 19, 2018 16:25:23 GMT -5
SOMEWHERE OVER THE PACIFIC OCEAN
20 MILES OFF THE COAST OF CALIFORNIA
T'Challa's personal Quinjet hovered above the water as he sat in the pilot's chair, deep in thought about the decisions he was about to embark on. An alert from the jet roused him from his musings, notifying him that something was approaching fast beneath the ship. The bottom of the jet opened up and moments later the king of Atlantis, Namor, had boarded. T'Challa met him in the center of the ship and the two shared a heated moment before finally one of them spoke.
"I hope you've called me here to atone for your crimes against Atlantis." Namor said sternly, his fist clenched and at the ready to knock T'Challa senseless the moment the time came.
"We will settle our affairs when the time is opportune, and make no mistake Namor, you will die by my hand. However, I wouldn't have requested a face to face meeting if the gravity of the situation wasn't severe."
"I think I've made it very clear on several occasions that the affairs of surface folk do not interest me in any way, shape, or form. I thought you were supposed to be one of the smartest men in the world." Namor jabbed back, doing his best to provoke the king of Wakanda.
"For once in your very long existence, shut up, and pay close attention." A video began to emit from the center console showing footage from the parallel dimension that T'Challa, W'kabi, and Storm barely managed to survive. Namor watched in stunned silence as he saw firsthand the damage that had been done to the world, unable to understand how T'Challa obtained the images in the first place let alone how such horrors could even come to pass. His fist tightened as he saw the ocean's completely bare, and he wondered what could have happened to Atlantis.
"What...what is this?" Namor managed to finally speak, turning towards T'Challa.
"A possible future should we not heed this warning now. On that world a battle for the infinity stones between Thanos and Ultron-"
"I thought Ultron had finally been disposed of?" Namor interrupted, clearly vexed by what he'd just seen.
"We both know better than to truly believe that. The war that broke out between those monsters wrecked the earth and spread across the galaxy. I had my eyes opened in a way I never thought conceivable, and it's forced me to be proactive and insure what I saw does not come to pass. We both have people that we need to protect, kingdoms that need to survive long past our reigns."
"What exactly are you proposing?" Namor asked with a raised eye at T'Challa.
"We find the stones first, and make sure they can never reach the hands of anyone who may wreak havoc on all of reality." T'Challa answered sternly before setting a course on the console.
DOWNTOWN NEW YORK
Emma Frost stopped in the middle of her lesson planning, the influx of emotions, voices rattling and screaming through her brain drowned out everything around her. She closed her eyes and began to focus, pouring every ounce of attention she could muster into the act of shutting out the unwanted visions. Yet the image of a golden throne with a peculiar stone seated in its back remained, burning its way into her memory.
“Ms. Frost?” Emma opened her eyes and turned around to see Principle Sheffield entering her classroom, a folder under his arm. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He said as he sat the folder on her desk.
“Not at all, what can I do for you Martin?” She asked, doing her best to hide the fact that she had been slightly unnerved by the entire ordeal that had just transpired. She watched him drone on and on about the syllabus packet he stopped by to drop off, nodding politely as he continued, but Emma Frost mind was a million miles away.
Ten minutes later she walked briskly out of Shepherd’s Learning Academy where she taught math and ironically psychology, stepping to the curb as she attempted to hail a cab to no success. As she continued to try and find a ride, she pondered what the significance was, if any, of the throne she had seen could be. Finally fed up with waiting, she locked eyes on a taxi speeding down the road and mentally suggested the driver come to a screeching halt for her. She hopped inside the cab, pulling on her sunglasses as she did before the driver pulled off again moments later. No sooner had she gotten down the block that her cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID, not interested in any sort of conversation at the moment, but decided to answer once she saw it was Ororo calling.
“Storm? We haven’t heard from you in weeks, what’s going-” She stops mid-sentence as she listens intently to the words from the other end. “I’ll be on the next flight out. Tell T’Challa don’t worry about sending a Quinjet, Tony owes me several personal favors.” She hung up the phone and leaned forward towards the driver, slipping him an extra twenty into the front seat.
“Stark International Airport, fast as you can please.”
20 MILES OFF THE COAST OF CALIFORNIA
T'Challa's personal Quinjet hovered above the water as he sat in the pilot's chair, deep in thought about the decisions he was about to embark on. An alert from the jet roused him from his musings, notifying him that something was approaching fast beneath the ship. The bottom of the jet opened up and moments later the king of Atlantis, Namor, had boarded. T'Challa met him in the center of the ship and the two shared a heated moment before finally one of them spoke.
"I hope you've called me here to atone for your crimes against Atlantis." Namor said sternly, his fist clenched and at the ready to knock T'Challa senseless the moment the time came.
"We will settle our affairs when the time is opportune, and make no mistake Namor, you will die by my hand. However, I wouldn't have requested a face to face meeting if the gravity of the situation wasn't severe."
"I think I've made it very clear on several occasions that the affairs of surface folk do not interest me in any way, shape, or form. I thought you were supposed to be one of the smartest men in the world." Namor jabbed back, doing his best to provoke the king of Wakanda.
"For once in your very long existence, shut up, and pay close attention." A video began to emit from the center console showing footage from the parallel dimension that T'Challa, W'kabi, and Storm barely managed to survive. Namor watched in stunned silence as he saw firsthand the damage that had been done to the world, unable to understand how T'Challa obtained the images in the first place let alone how such horrors could even come to pass. His fist tightened as he saw the ocean's completely bare, and he wondered what could have happened to Atlantis.
"What...what is this?" Namor managed to finally speak, turning towards T'Challa.
"A possible future should we not heed this warning now. On that world a battle for the infinity stones between Thanos and Ultron-"
"I thought Ultron had finally been disposed of?" Namor interrupted, clearly vexed by what he'd just seen.
"We both know better than to truly believe that. The war that broke out between those monsters wrecked the earth and spread across the galaxy. I had my eyes opened in a way I never thought conceivable, and it's forced me to be proactive and insure what I saw does not come to pass. We both have people that we need to protect, kingdoms that need to survive long past our reigns."
"What exactly are you proposing?" Namor asked with a raised eye at T'Challa.
"We find the stones first, and make sure they can never reach the hands of anyone who may wreak havoc on all of reality." T'Challa answered sternly before setting a course on the console.
DOWNTOWN NEW YORK
Emma Frost stopped in the middle of her lesson planning, the influx of emotions, voices rattling and screaming through her brain drowned out everything around her. She closed her eyes and began to focus, pouring every ounce of attention she could muster into the act of shutting out the unwanted visions. Yet the image of a golden throne with a peculiar stone seated in its back remained, burning its way into her memory.
“Ms. Frost?” Emma opened her eyes and turned around to see Principle Sheffield entering her classroom, a folder under his arm. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He said as he sat the folder on her desk.
“Not at all, what can I do for you Martin?” She asked, doing her best to hide the fact that she had been slightly unnerved by the entire ordeal that had just transpired. She watched him drone on and on about the syllabus packet he stopped by to drop off, nodding politely as he continued, but Emma Frost mind was a million miles away.
Ten minutes later she walked briskly out of Shepherd’s Learning Academy where she taught math and ironically psychology, stepping to the curb as she attempted to hail a cab to no success. As she continued to try and find a ride, she pondered what the significance was, if any, of the throne she had seen could be. Finally fed up with waiting, she locked eyes on a taxi speeding down the road and mentally suggested the driver come to a screeching halt for her. She hopped inside the cab, pulling on her sunglasses as she did before the driver pulled off again moments later. No sooner had she gotten down the block that her cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID, not interested in any sort of conversation at the moment, but decided to answer once she saw it was Ororo calling.
“Storm? We haven’t heard from you in weeks, what’s going-” She stops mid-sentence as she listens intently to the words from the other end. “I’ll be on the next flight out. Tell T’Challa don’t worry about sending a Quinjet, Tony owes me several personal favors.” She hung up the phone and leaned forward towards the driver, slipping him an extra twenty into the front seat.
“Stark International Airport, fast as you can please.”