"Eric Stevens. Graduated Annapolis age nineteen. MIT for grad school. Joined the SEALs and went to Afghanistan where he racked up confirmed kills like it was a video game. They started calling him Killmonger. He joined a JSOC ghost unit." Shuri and I looked at each other, and I sighed.

"Now these guys are serious," Ross continued. "They will drop off the grid so they can commit assassinations and take down governments." T'Challa nodded.

"Did he reveal anything about his identity?" he asked. Shuri sighed.

"He has a War Dog tattoo," she said, "but we have no record of him." He nodded.

"Alright. W'Kabi is bringing him to be questioned by the elders." He looked at Shuri and Okoye. "You two will be there." At me. "I want you in the rafters, keep an eye on things. Can you do that?" I nodded, and he looked at Ross. "You have to stay here." Ross sighed but nodded, and T'Challa looked at us, nodding.

⇔

I ran into the throne room silently, keeping out of sight in the ceiling as T'Challa faced the elders with Okoye, Shuri, and Ramonda by his side. I listened as the elders wondered amongst themselves.

"Is this man Wakandan or not?"

"Sixelele ukuba kuqhubeka ntoni." The doors opened, and W'Kabi walked in, escorting Killmonger tensely. He left the American in the middle of the room and stood next to T'Challa.

"Thetha," the king instructed. W'Kabi looked at Killmonger.

"Speak," he translated. The man smiled unnervingly.

"I'm standing in your house," he said. "Serving justice to a man who stole your vibranium and murdered your people. Justice your King couldn't deliver. T'Challa walked closer to him and whispered something in his ear. I couldn't hear what he said, but I could tell from his face as he said it that it wasn't good. Killmonger just smiled more and looked up at the elders.

"I want the throne," he said. The entire room scoffed at this. Some elders even held their heads back and laughed. "Y'all sittin' up here comfortable. Must feel good. There's about two billion people all over the world that looks like us but their lives are a lot harder. Wakanda has the tools to liberate them all .

"And what tools are those?" T'Challa asked him.

"Vibranium. Your weapons."

"Our weapons will not be used to wage war on the world. It is not our way to be judge, jury, and executioner for people who are not our own."

"Not your own? But didn't life start here, on this continent? So ain't all people your people?"

"I am not King of all people. I am King of Wakanda. And it is my responsibility to make sure our people are safe and that vibranium does not fall into the hands of a person like you." The elders murmured at Killmonger's disrespect as they waited to see how T'Challa would respond. Then, Ramonda suddenly spoke.

"Son," she said, "we have entertained this charlatan for too long. Reject his request." Killmonger eyed the Elders with an amused grin, and I frowned. He was enjoying this too much.

"Oh, I ain't requesting nothing," he said. "Ask who I am." Shuri stepped forward.

"You are Eric Stevens," she said. "An American black operative . A mercenary nicknamed Killmonger. That's who you are." He chuckled.

"That's not my name, Princess. Ask me, King." T'Challa shook his head.

"No."

"Ask me."

"Take him away." Two Dora stepped forward to take Killmonger out of the room, but a River Tribe Elder stood up. I leaned forward.

"Ungubani?!" he yelled. Killmonger stepped forward.

"Ndingu N'Jadaka, unyana we Nkosana N'Jobu!" My eyes widened as a hush fell over the room. N'Jobu. Wasn't he T'Chaka's brother? "I found my daddy with Panther claws in his chest! You ain't the son of a King, you're the son of a murderer!" Ramonda stepped forward.

"Uyaxoka!" she exclaimed. "Lies!" W'Kabi spoke up.

"I'm afraid not, Queen Mother," he said. He held up a gold chain holding up a ring identical to T'Challa's. Killmonger smirked.

"Hey Auntie." He looked around. "I'm exercising my blood right to challenge for the mantles of King and Black Panther." Silence fell as everyone's eyes turned to T'Challa.

"Do not do this T'Challa," Ramonda said quietly.

"As the son of N'Jobu he is within his rights," one of the elders said. She shook her head.

"He has no rights here." Someone else spoke up.

"The challenge would take weeks to prepare." Killmonger shook his head.

"Weeks?" he asked. "I don't need weeks. The whole country ain't gotta be there. I just need him...and somebody to get me out of these chains." Ramonda looked at her son.

"T'Challa, what do you know of this?" He didn't answer her, his gaze set on Killmonger.

"I accept your challenge," he said quietly. Whispers broke out across the room, and T'Challa looked up, locking eyes with me and shaking his head.

Translations:

Sixelele ukuba kuqhubeka ntoni. - Tell us what's going on.

Ungubani?! - Who are you?!

Ndingu N'Jadaka, unyana we Nkosana N'Jobu! - I am N'Jadaka, son of Prince N'Jobu!

Uyaxoka! - You're lying!