Warning: Brief description of a corpse.

You awoke with a jolt and a throbbing pain in your head, ribs, left arm, and... well, everywhere. The darkness around you was thick and humid; it reeked of smoke. You couldn't see a thing.

Even if it weren't so dark, your eyes stung and were watering so much, you probably wouldn't have been able to see anyway.

You lay still where you were, trying to put together what had happened. You didn't remember falling asleep.

Suddenly, the groaning sound of something gargantuan and metal snapped you to your senses and you remembered. You remembered the incessant beeping. You remembered heavy breathing; masks dropping. You remembered "turbulence." You remembered ears popping. You remembered screaming. Fire. Falling. Stomach turning. Smoke billowing. Beeping. Mom. Dad. "It's going to be okay." You remembered blurry shadows racing past the windows in the dark. Hands squeezing. Heart crashing. Eyes glued shut. The pilot speaking a pitiful, "I'm sorry," and then - that's it. That's all you could recall. You didn't know how long it had been. It was still dark, but that didn't mean anything.

As far as you could tell, you were still amongst the wreckage of the plane. Sitting up, you rubbed your eyes. What could only be dried blood cracked and crumbled off your face. Everything ached. Especially when you attempted any movement. You had to get out. The smoke was threatening to suffocate you if you didn't. Not to mention the possibility of the wreckage itself collapsing on top of you. You groped in the darkness for the clasp of your seatbelt, which had somehow remained intact. You still couldn't see a thing, and hoped desperately that it was because of your surroundings and not because of blindness caused by head trauma. That would suck.

As you crawled out of your seat, your hand brushed against a body. It was cold and stiff. Not breathing. The skin was waxy, as if it had been dead for several hours. You tried not to lose your stomach as you clawed your way past the awful thing. You advanced toward where you thought you remembered the emergency exit being, and started feeling along the wall.

Window. Another window. Ugh, some unidentifiable liquid dripping down the wall... Aha! The exit!

The fuselage shuddered and creaked as you yanked on the door. You shuddered as well. One wrong move and you were toast. A bit more gently this time, you tried the latch once more. Nothing. It wouldn't budge. You could feel tears forming in your eyes as the lump in your throat threatened to choke you. Any hope you had of escaping was gone. You were going to die there. Whether by starvation, or much sooner when the plane collapses in on you, you didn't know. 'So, this is it,' you thought, 'a plane crash in the middle of who-knows-where-in-Africa, surrounded by those who died before me.'

As a last ditch effort, you screamed. Out of frustration. Out of desperation. Out of hope. "HELP ME!"

_ _ _ _ _ _

You awoke again and, somehow, you were still alive.

And the wreckage was nowhere to be seen.

It looked to be about dawn; the tiniest bit of grey light seeped through the foliage. You were still surrounded by jungle, and your whole body was still throbbing with pain. But you hadn't the slightest idea how you had gotten out of the plane. You looked around.

There was nothing but trees, vines, and other plants for as far as your eyes would allow you to see in the limited light. Nothing except...

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw the man clinging to the branches above you. He just sat there, watching. You had almost missed him, for he was dressed all in black, his helmet resembling the face of a cat. Gasping, you crawled backwards to the best of your ability.

He leapt down and was on top of you in an instant; pinning you down with one hand on your shoulder, the other raised above your neck. Razor sharp claws protruded from his fingertips, ready to strike.

"Wait! Wait! Don't!" You squeaked, craning your head back, trying to get as far away from those claws as you could.

"Who are you? Why did you come here?" A deep voice with a thick, African accent asked gruffly, in English. You hesitated, and he pressed harder into your shoulder. "Answer me!"

You were trying not to hyperventilate. "I- I'm sorry! Our- our- our plane crashed and my parents are dead and we were on our way to Kenya and please don't kill me... I'm- I'm an American!" You blurted.

He looked away for a second and... was that a chuckle? Turning back to you he asked, "So?"

You didn't know what to say. Why did it really matter that you were American. It seemed like a moot point now. You could be the Queen of England and he would probably still kill you.

Finally, the pressure on your shoulder was relieved. The man stood and offered a hand - which was now sans claws - to help you up. Wide eyed and speechless, you slowly took his hand and he brought you gently to your feet. Your insides screamed as you stood, but you had more pressing matters to deal with, so you tried your best to ignore them.

He stared at you for a long moment, making you feel even more uncomfortable. Finally he said, "What is your name?"

"Uh.. um... (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N)"

The man pulled the cat-helmet off, revealing a ruggedly handsome face. "I am T'Challa, son of King T'Chaka." He smirked. "Welcome to Wakanda."

"I'm sorry, where?" You inquired, finally finding your voice.

"You will know soon enough. For now, we must figure out what I'm supposed to do with you."

"What?" You didn't like the sound of that. Though, at least he wasn't holding you to the ground and threatening to rip your throat out with freaky metal claws.

He didn't say anything in response. Instead, he turned and began to walk away. When you didn't follow, he called back over his shoulder, "Are you coming?"

You didn't hesitate to chase after him. You figured whatever he had in mind couldn't be worse than being mauled by a panther, or swallowed whole by a giant snake. You shivered at the very thought.

"Are you the one who pulled me out of the plane?"

"Yes." He stated plainly.

"Did you hear me screaming? Why did you attack me? Did the plane collapse after you dragged me out?"

He just smiled and ignored your spew of sentences. "We haven't had any outsiders come here in a very long time. I am afraid that my people will not take kindly to your arrival."

"Well, it's not like I wanted to crash here!"

"I know that. And I want to believe that you have no ill intentions, but my father and the Counsel of Elders will be the ones to decide your fate. Not I." He looked into your eyes with his dark brown ones. The look in his eyes was one of curiosity, while yours was most likely one of deep anxiety. After a pause, he continued. "But, we don't want to linger here. What with the giant snakes and all." He grinned at you and then resumed walking. Your eyes grew wide and you hurried to keep up with him.

The two of you soon broke through the treeline and you came upon the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in your life. It took your breath away. Sprawled before you was the most magnificent, most futuristic city you had ever seen. The tops of the buildings glinted in the light of the rising sun.

You tore your eyes away from the majestic sight to look at T'Challa. "Wakanda?"

He smiled and nodded. "Wakanda."