This fic ends at chapter 30.
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(General P.O.V)
It took an entire week for their search to bear fruit.
500 miles away from Wakanda's Capitol city, deep in the Mountain range bordering the Jabari tribe, an enormous unnatural plateau was found.
From the sky, it looked like a big black spot in the middle of hills and jungle. The darkest point being the center which was also the most irradiated.
An SSR recon team, along with Wakandan top scientists, soon arrived on location. They moved carefully through the wreckage, scanning the unearthed soil and shattered rocks for any sign of Bond's whereabouts.
The lead scientist, a middle-aged Wakandan woman with sharp features and dark braids tied back in a practical knot, adjusted the vibranium scanner in her hands. The device hummed softly as it scanned the area, picking up traces of radiation, energy spikes, and genetic anomalies.
Sw'Thandi watched her carefully. "Anything?"
The woman frowned. "There are… unusual readings. Not residual energy like we expected. This is something else."
Sw'Thandi's gaze sharpened. "Define 'something else.'"
She hesitated. "There's a pulse."
Sw'Thandi straightened. "A heartbeat?"
The scientist nodded, adjusting the device. "Similar. Faint. Buried deep. Almost as if…" She hesitated, then turned to Sw'Thandi. "He's underground."
The soldiers stiffened at the implication.
Sw'Thandi stepped forward, scanning the rock-covered ground with his own eyes. The idea was insane—but so was Bond surviving that explosion. "I need shovels. Now."
A nearby Dora Milaje warrior shook her head. "Shovels won't do, Your Highness. The soil has been fused together from the heat."
Sw'Thandi clenched his fists. He had one other option.
His Panther claws extended.
The moment his vibranium blades touched the ground, a strange ripple ran through the crater—an echo of energy, a lingering aftershock from Bond's transformation.
And then, the earth cracked.
The crater rumbled.
Sw'Thandi stepped back, eyes narrowing. "Brace yourselves."
The soldiers backed away, rifles at the ready.
And then—
A golden light erupted from the center of the crater.
At first, it was just a flicker, like the dying embers of a fire.
Then it intensified, rising from the ground, taking shape—a figure seated cross-legged in the very center of the destruction.
James Bond.
Sw'Thandi barely recognized him.
His skin, once cracked with unstable energy, was now a smooth, faintly golden sheen. His veins, once glowing like liquid fire, now pulsed dimly, like the surface of a living circuit board. His breath came slow and measured, his bare chest rising and falling in a calm, controlled rhythm.
He was meditating.
Sw'Thandi approached cautiously, motioning for the soldiers to hold back.
As he stepped closer, he could feel it—the sheer pressure radiating off Bond's body, like standing too close to a live reactor.
Sw'Thandi crouched a few feet away. "James?"
Bond's eyes opened.
They shone. Not the way Steve Rogers' eyes shone with conviction, not the way Erskine's wisdom had sparkled with intelligence—this was something otherworldly.
Bond met Sw'Thandi's gaze, his voice quiet, controlled. "I can hear you."
Sw'Thandi exhaled, relief washing over him. "You're alive."
Bond's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Turns out the Second Stage was less about overcoming and more to do with accepting. A shift in my thinking process. That's what Erskine meant about evolving the Mind."
Sw'Thandi shook his head, noticing how Bond's gaze seemed to look through him, as if he could see something no one else could. "You need medical attention. Your body—"
Bond raised a hand, stopping him. "My body is fine."
His superhuman biology and Adaptation power was the only reason why he'd survived the first stage of the serum.
Sw'Thandi frowned. "That's debatable."
Bond flexed his fingers experimentally, watching as golden energy danced along his knuckles. "The serum worked. Too well."
Sw'Thandi studied him. "And?"
Bond hesitated. His hands curled into fists, and for a moment, the air around him seemed to hum with raw energy. "It's clear to me now that I'm more aware. This power is too much for any human. Body, Mind, and Heart all need to be tested and evolved to complete the transformation."
He had accepted the Power but it was still rejecting him.
They'd been on the right track when developing The Ultimate Serum, but they'd been wrong on what exactly it was they were creating.
The Heart Shaped Herb should have been the clue. It turned what was supposed to be a stronger version of the Super Soldier formula into a path towards real Godhood.
An equation that multiplied consciousness, divided uniformity, subtracted mortality, and added boundlessness to give you divinity.
Sw'Thandi's jaw tightened. "Then we need to get you back to the palace. If you're still unstable, we can—"
Bond cut him off with a shake of his head. "I don't think Wakanda's prepared for what I've become."
Sw'Thandi took a step forward. "Then we stabilize you. Here."
One of the scientists stepped closer, hesitantly speaking up. "His energy levels are… off the charts. He's adapting faster now, but still not quick enough. If we don't find a way to help him…" She swallowed hard. "He'll detonate again. And this time, it won't be the nation alone, we could lose the entirety of Northern and Central Africa."
Sw'Thandi turned back to Bond, his expression hardening. "There has to be a way."
Bond looked at his hands. The second stage was complete but now he was entering the third stage. The pressure building up slowly. Like a dam trying to hold back an ocean, the serum constantly pushed against his limits.
His voice was quiet. "Listen to her Panther, there isn't much time. I appreciate your dedication but your efforts are misplaced. Redirect them into rebuilding your country."
King Azzuri arrived shortly after.
He surveyed the devastation, his expression unreadable. He had seen many wars, many Wakandan crises—but this?
This was beyond comprehension.
"Father." Sw'thandi greeted
Azzuri as he approached.
"Sergeant Bond." The King regarded him with a complicated look, then he bowed his head. "Thank you for saving my home."
""Thank you Sergeant Bond!""
The Dora Milaje behind Azzuri copied the king, slamming the ground with the ends of their spears.
"Don't mention it." Said Bond, a light smile on his face.
King Azzuri turned to Sw'Thandi, lowering his voice. "Can he be saved?"
Sw'Thandi hesitated, glancing at the meditating Bond. "According to him no. Personally…I don't know."
The king exhaled, his gaze heavy with thought. "We have contacted the SSR and explained the situation. They are sending a specialist."
Sw'Thandi frowned. "Who?"
Azzuri's voice was firm. "A fellow by the name of Sebastian Shaw."
Bond's eyes snapped up in recognition
Sw'Thandi frowned. "You're trusting an outsider with this?"
Azzuri met his son's gaze. "If we do nothing, the Sergeant will die. And if he loses control again, so will we all."
Bond exhaled slowly, letting the weight of the revelation settle over him.
The mutant Erskine told him he'd come across in the past was called Sebastian Shaw. A powerful enery manipulator.
According to his old mentor, Shaw was a mystery, a scientist obsessed with power, a man who had spent years working in the shadows of war, a man whose words carried undertones of Supremacy.
Would he truly help?
Or was he coming to study Bond like an experiment?
Bond didn't trust him.
But his other option was passing the third stage successfully by evolving his Heart.
An impossible task. Bond was not like Steve Rogers. Making peace with his blood stained past did not automatically erase his actions and sins, nor did it change him.
His heart would always be clouded with darkness, evolving it meant washing all that away. And he just couldn't. Sometimes it was less about overcoming and more about acceptance.
Which left Shaw as his only choice. An energy manipulator was worth a shot. And if that failed, Bond would jump to outerspace where his death wouldn't hurt anyone.
Sw'Thandi searched his face. "Are you ready for this?"
Bond smirked, though there was no humor in it. "No. But I don't think that matters anymore."
The Panther Prince nodded. "Then let's hope this bastard knows what he's doing."
Hope had been restored
But time was running out.