The air in Shuri's lab hummed with the low thrum of vibranium-powered tech. Holographic displays floated like fireflies, casting a soft glow over the sleek, futuristic space. T'Challa stepped inside, his royal robes replaced by a simple yet elegant tunic, his presence commanding even in casual attire.

Shuri didn't look up as he entered, her fingers dancing across a holographic keyboard. The image of the raptor—you—flickered on the central display, frozen mid-snarl, claws extended like scythes.

"Finding anything, sister?" T'Challa asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity.

Shuri smirked, her eyes never leaving the screen. "Oh, yeah. This." She tapped the display, and the image zoomed in on the deep gouges in the embassy walls. "These scratches? Not vibranium. Not even close. But whatever made them is strong. Really strong."

T'Challa's brow furrowed as he studied the image. "And the creature?"

"Not a creature," Shuri corrected, her tone teasing. "A person. One of those N'Gadi thugs managed to snap this before they ran for their lives." She swiped the image aside, pulling up a grainy video.

The footage showed you in motion—a blur of scales and muscle, your raptor form tearing through the shadows with lethal precision. The thug's shaky camerawork barely kept up as you lunged, claws slashing through steel like paper.

T'Challa's expression darkened. "N'Gadi. They've been a thorn in Wakanda's side for too long. But this... this is new."

Shuri leaned back, crossing her arms. "New and dangerous. Whoever this is, they're not working with N'Gadi. They're hunting them. And from the looks of it, they're very good at it."

T'Challa's gaze lingered on the image of you, his mind racing. "Do we know who they are? Or what they are?"

Shuri shook her head. "Not yet. But I'm working on it. The claw marks are organic—some kind of bio-engineered material. It's like nothing I've ever seen."

T'Challa's jaw tightened. "If N'Gadi is involved, this could escalate quickly. We need to find this... raptor. Before they do."

Shuri grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Already on it. I've got a trace on their energy signature. If they show up again, we'll know."

T'Challa nodded, his expression resolute. "Good. Keep me updated. And Shuri..."

She looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, brother?"

"Be careful. If this raptor is as dangerous as they seem, we need to approach them with caution."

Shuri waved a hand dismissively. "Please. I'm always careful."

T'Challa gave her a look, half-amused, half-exasperated. "Famous last words."

As he turned to leave, Shuri called after him, her voice playful but serious. "Hey, T'Challa? If this raptor is hunting N'Gadi... maybe they're not the enemy."

He paused, glancing back at her. "Maybe. But until we know for sure, we treat them as a threat. Wakanda's safety comes first."

Shuri nodded, her smile fading as she returned to her work. The image of you lingered on the screen, a mystery waiting to be unraveled.

And somewhere, deep in the shadows, you moved, unaware that the eyes of Wakanda were now watching.

SCENEBREAK

The room felt like it was closing in on you, the walls pressing closer with every word Tony spoke. Your claws—your claws—dug into the armrests of the chair, the leather groaning under the pressure.

"So you're telling me," you said slowly, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief, "I'm not a real person?"

Tony winced, running a hand through his hair. "No, that's not—"

The door hissed open, cutting him off. Bruce stepped in, his face pale, a datapad clutched in his hand. "Tony," he said, his voice tight. "You need to see this."

Tony took the datapad, his eyes scanning the screen. His jaw tightened, and for once, the ever-confident billionaire looked... shaken.

You didn't wait for an explanation. Your mind was already spiraling, the weight of Tony's words crushing you. Built. You weren't born. You weren't natural. You were... what? A weapon? An experiment?

"Who?" you demanded, your voice cracking. "Who did this? Who built me?"

Tony hesitated, his eyes flicking to Bruce, who gave a small, reluctant nod.

"Project Raptor," Tony said finally, his voice low. "It was a black ops program. SHIELD, Hydra, a few other shady players. They wanted to create the ultimate predator—something fast, strong, adaptable. Something that could infiltrate, assassinate, and disappear without a trace."

Your stomach churned. "And they made me?"

Bruce stepped forward, his tone gentle but firm. "You're not just a weapon. You're sentient. You have thoughts, feelings, a conscience. That makes you more than what they intended."

"But I'm still their creation," you snapped, your voice rising. "I'm still... this." You gestured to yourself, to the scales and claws that suddenly felt foreign, wrong.

Tony set the datapad down, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "Look, I didn't know about this until recently. SHIELD buried it deep. But now that it's out in the open, we're going to figure it out. Together."

"Together?" you echoed, your voice bitter. "You kept this from me. You knew, and you didn't say anything."

"I was trying to protect you," Tony said, his voice rising. "This isn't exactly easy to drop into casual conversation. 'Hey, by the way, you're a genetically engineered raptor-human hybrid. Pass the coffee.'"

You stood abruptly, the chair screeching against the floor. "I need air."

"Wait—" Bruce started, but you were already striding toward the door.

The Tower's rooftop was cold, the wind biting at your skin—or what passed for skin now. You leaned against the railing, staring out at the city, its lights blurring through the haze of your thoughts.

Built.

The word echoed in your mind, a relentless drumbeat. You weren't born. You weren't real. You were a thing, a creation, a mistake.

Footsteps behind you. You didn't turn.

"You're not alone in this," Steve's voice said softly.

You laughed, the sound hollow. "Aren't I? How many other raptor-people do you know?"

Steve stepped beside you, his presence steadying. "You're still you. Scales or no scales, claws or no claws. You've saved lives. You've made a difference. That's what matters."

You shook your head, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "I don't even know who I am anymore."

Steve placed a hand on your shoulder, his grip firm but gentle. "Then we'll figure it out. Together."

For a moment, you let yourself believe him. But deep down, the question lingered, gnawing at the edges of your mind.

Who built me? And why?