The aftermath was utter chaos.
Emergency response teams rushed in to he rubble filled auditorium, frantically pulling out VIP after VIP.
Natasha recovered her cool faster than anyone else — though I did protect her from the brunt of the blast.
And for a man who was nearly reduced to cinder and ash, T'Chaka seemed rather nonchalant about it all.
Me, Natasha stood the side as the father & son duo sat on park bench, their eyes gazing at the cacophony of reporters, governmental agencies and medical personnel rushing about the place.
Natasha leaned over to me, the warmth of her voice tickling my ear.
"Thank you." My ears blushed as a nervous shiver tickled my spine. I turned to look into her deep green eyes, seeing the smirk on her face.
"ah… you're welcome? Just doing my job Ms. Romanov." I said scratching the back of my neck.
Damn is this false face overheating or something, why is it so hot in here!
Natasha let out a restrained chuckle, before turning to the King and Prince.
"But seriously, you saved me, the King, the Prince and so much paper work, not to mention a potential international disaster…"
I hummed, her words were nice. Yet I couldn't help but feel a gnawing guilt eating away at my stomach.
"I… I guess, do you think Fury's going to give me a bonus?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the nausea bubbling deep within me.
Natasha rolled her eyes, patting my shoulder. "It's not about the money, David…" She said, before tapping her lips, "But, having some never hurt, don't worry, I'll put in a good word for you~"
I gave her a weak smile, sad that I was too guilt ridden to appreciate the cosmic beauty before me.
"Thanks."
I turned my focus back to the two Wakandans, feeling their emotional states through the Force.
I felt their confusion, the anger and the cold taste of revenge… but as well as an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
Of life, of being alive, at not loosing one another.
T'Chaka patted his son's shoulder, cupping the mans face and whispering a few words as he pressed his thumb against T'Challa's lips.
Then he stood, turning to me and Natasha, and despite the man's suit being in partial tatters, sleeves torn and vest ripped, he still carried the bearing of a King.
With confident steps he approached us, his son only a step behind.
T'Chaka, the king of Wakanda bowed.
"I must thank you, Ms. Romanov, your presence has saved me an early meeting with Bast & Sekmhet—"
T'Challa quirked his brow at his King, "Father…" He said softly. T'Chaka chuckled.
"What? It is true, for a moment I could feel their arms reaching out, their warm embrace calling to me, that is, until—" He turned to me, his stoic eyes trying to peer through my false face-mask, "--You pulled me back."
T'Chaka and his son then bowed to me, personally. I could feel their sincerity through the Force, an overwhelming gratitude that clawed against the guilt churning within me.
"Thank you, your majesty — I… I was just doing my job."
T'Chaka chuckled as he elbowed his son. "His job he says!" T'Challa gave him a warm smile, before reaching out to shake my hand.
"Regardless, as Prince of Wakanda it would be remiss of me not to pay thanks to the savior of my Father, my King, and the future of Wakanda itself. I invite you, and Ms. Romanov of course, as friends of Wakanda."
T'Chaka looked at his son with a satisfied nod. "Very good my son, but are you not forgetting something?" T'Challa looked at his father with a hint of confusion. The man titled his head towards me trying, failing to communicate with his eyes.
The King sighed, "A friend of Wakanda? Tell me my prince, what is your new friend's name?" He said with a click of his tongue.
T'Challa's eyes widened as his face flushed with embarrassment. I chuckled, taking the prince's hand.
"Thank you prince T'Challa, My name is David Carpenter." I said aloud.
'But my real name is Riven, Riven Thorne, disciple of the Sorcerer Supreme.' Through a simple Force fueled telepathy spell I spoke into his mind.
T'Challa impressively kept his cool, even as he heard my voice speak directly in his head. He smiled, stepping back with his father.
"It's been a pleasure, Ms. Romanov, Mr. Carpenter — we hope to see you again soon, hopefully in better circumstances."
Me and Natasha watched the two of them walk away towards a small contingent of bald women.
"Are you famous?" Natasha suddenly asked me. I peered at her from the corner of my eye, seeing a thoughtful look on her face as she stared at T'Challa's back.
"Uh… I hope not?" I said with overt confusion.
Natasha lifted her chin slightly, her head tilting towards me as her green eyes locked onto my false eyes.
"Then why did the prince tense when he heard your name?"
…
This woman is dangerous…
—
A day later and I was back in the SWORD facility sitting across from a serious looking pirate. To my left Johnson had his arms crossed leaning against a wall, to my right, a brunette woman with a tight pony-tail, ear-piece and dressed in form-fitting spy-ware shuffled through a stack of files.
"Hill, report." Fury ordered with a tired voice.
Maria Hill nodded, picking up a tablet and connecting it to a larger screen on the wall. An image of a half-destroyed U.N building appeared, before a video overlayed and the events unfolded.
"At roughly 0900 yesterday, an unidentified group set off an improvised explosive device."
The video played, showing the arrival of the van and the unlucky security guard who opened its backdoors.
"The blast, while clearly directed towards the headquarters, caused immense civilian casualties." I couldn't help but wince, my stomach sinking as I watched the explosion wash over the crowd in tidal-wave of fire and excruciating death.
"Our current assumptions on the unidentified groups' motivations are two-fold: Fear & the King of Wakanda." Hill tapped the tablet once more, bringing up another video portraying the interior of U.N headquarters.
The video played, showing the early moments of T'Chaka's speech before a ball of fire suddenly exploded to life behind him, the video quality took a nose-dive as a choking cloud of debris filled the room.
Hill tapped her tablet again, replaying the video but this time slowed down.
Fury leaned forwards as the frames of the video jittered on.
He saw T'Challa leap towards his father with inhuman speeds, but it was clear he was too slow.
Then he saw a blur streak across the room, and for one, singular, blurry frame, he could see the fireball held back by some invisible barrier.
He turned to me, a smirk on his lips.
"Well I'll be damned Agent Thorne. First mission and you're already saving Kings and Princes — you got a Princess in your schedule I should know about?" The sarcasm in his voice made me sigh, Johnson chuckling over my embarrassment.
"No sir, but a bonus would be nice." I said tiredly. Hill stifled a laugh as Fury's eye twitched.
He leaned back, splaying his arms over the couch. "Money, money, money. What the hell happened to good old patriotism?" Fury lazily waved his hand. "Duty and honor and all that shit… fine, Hill, give our King saving agent a kingly bounty."
Fury took a deep breath then leaned forwards again, resting his elbows on his knees with a serious look in his eyes.
"Hill, I want eyes on every road, highway and train going in & out of Vienna — if so much as a lost cat crosses the border — I want to know.
Johnson, I need your boots on the ground, get in contact with the rest of your team. We have reports of one 'Bucky Barnes' in the area, you are to track his location, but do not engage. Whoever is behind this is clearly looking for a reaction, too bad I'm one cold-hearted son of a bitch…" He paused for a moment, his eyes glancing over to the destroyed image of the U.N building.
"The accords are currently ripping the Avengers apart — and this shit ain't helping. To be frank, I'm half-inclined to let it all burn. Romanov has asked me to stay hands off for the moment, says 'she'll figure it out', whatever that means, probably collateral damage, another headache. I'll gladly keep my hands clean and moisturized, let my little hero's fight it out."
"What about me sir?" I asked, amused at the mans rant. Fury gave me a raised brow.
"You? You're going back to school, this mission was supposed to be a taste — not a goddamn family barbecue. I can't have you bursting onto the scene saving Kings. You're a secretagent, emphasis on the secret, not a hero. You are to keep a low-profile until needed. Dismissed."
I gave the room a nod and promptly turned to leave. A couple minutes later I received a ping on my SWORD issued phone.
A notification for a deposit in my bank account. My first paycheck and added bonus.
[A New Deposit has been made to your Checkings' Account: + $140,000…]
Holy fuck! I love being a spy!
—
My days passed in relative peace.
I was in the school library scrolling through real-estate listings — searching for a house to call home. But no matter how hard I tried to focus I couldn't get the scene of the crowd out of my head.
The screams, the fire…
I sighed, closing my tab and walking away with my head hung low in thought.
Am I a psychopath or something? So greedy for Vibranium that I was willing to let innocent people die?
Is that the sort of person I want to be?
A choking pain rushed up my throat, I held back tears as I navigated through the school halls. Until I suddenly felt a hand grip my shoulder.
I jolted, my hand snapping up to grab the offending wrist, only to stop myself when I saw Jean's stunned concerned face.
"S-sorry." I said letting her wrist go, trying to turn away.
"Wait!"
I stopped in my tracks, looking over my shoulder.
"If you want to come, then come — I'm going for a walk." I whispered, before continuing onwards.
Jean had a conflicted look on her face as she followed me out of school.
"What about class?"
I scoffed, though the sound came out more like a whimper. I led us to a quiet coffee shop that sat across from a park across the street, taking a seat and ordering us two latte's.
My eyes listlessly scanned the park, seeing couples and families playing in the grass. An old man feeding birds and a runner on their daily grind.
"...Are you okay Riven?"
I turned back to Jean, her eyes filled with concern. The feeling practically screamed at me through the Force, and for some reason it sickened me.
"Its hard to explain, I…"
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." She said softly.
The waitress brought our lattes over and I cupped the ceramic in my hands. The warmth reminding me of Tao's tea.
"Why'd you follow me?" I asked, taking a tentative sip.
Jean eyes lingered on her coffee's foam, biting her lip a little as she thought.
"Even if I can't read your mind… I can sense the pain you're going through, it's hard to ignore to be honest."
I blinked. "I… I see, I'll try to control my powers better—"
Jean shook her head, "No! I mean, you don't have to, even if I couldn't feel it, it's not hard to see."
I let out a sigh, looking back to the park. I need play poker or something, people are reading me left and right.
Maybe I'm just being a little bitch about all this.
I'm not god, I wasn't given some divine purpose to save each and every soul — at least, I don't think I did — but it doesn't help the fact that my knowledge of the 'future' hangs over me like a guillotine.
And this isn't truly the future I know… Jean's presence alone confirms that I live in some Alternate universe.
But it's similar enough, at least until I saved the king.
God, how does Tao do it? By ignoring it?
I… I can't live with that. At least, when I'm close enough for it to matter.
This is a fucked up world. A world of superhumans running around in spandex breaking to villainous lairs, while world-ending cosmic entities roam the universe.
My problems seem so petty and I literally know the grand scheme of things.
…Life, is so weird man, It was weird before I died, and being brought here made it even weirder.
But I'm not a hero, that much I know. And I'd like to think I'm not a villain either — I'm just… some guy.
No. No I'm not.
I'm Riven Thorne.
Master of the Mystic Arts, Personal Disciple of the Sorceress Supreme, Agent of SWORD and the Will of the Fucking Force!
You know what?
Screw the timeline.
Screw the consequences.
Screw the fear of regret.
I will live and I will suffer, but through it all, I will thrive.
A smile bubbled to my lips. I watched as a bird landed on the old man's hat, pecking at its brim. The man yelped, waving his hand and scaring the bird away.
The old man took off his hat, swatting it it free of dirt. Then, from across the road, he looked at me. Eyes locking onto mine with a grin on his lips, he gave me an assured nod.
My heart suddenly skipped a beat.
A bus drove passed, cutting my vision off. The moment it cleared the man was gone. Only a murder of birds remained, pecking at the ground.
Was that… Stan Lee?
"Riven? Riven?! Hello?" Jean's voice pulled me from my stupor. Her eyes filled with confused concern. "Did you just zone out on me?" She asked looking over to the park, trying to see what I saw.
I shook my head and let out a light chuckle, the feeling built, and before I knew it I began to laugh. Jean gave me an odd smile as she watched me begin to loose it. The absurdity of it all finally breaking free from my chest.
I wiped a tear from my cheek, a relieved look on my face.
"Thank you, Jean."
She jolted a little at my sudden shift in emotion, feeling the resolution ebb off me. She tilted her head cutely, "But I didn't do anything?"
I waved away her concerns. "Just you being here was enough Jean."
She flushed, her cheeks growing rosy. "You're welcome?" She muttered under her breath, still visibly confused about what she even did.
I downed my coffee in a large gulp before standing. "Come on, we're very, very late for class."
Jean scoffed, "And whose fault is that?!"