Creating Oasis:Mutant Dawn

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As Joseph's voice echoed across the mountaintop, the entire Wakandan force—including T'Challa—felt something change.

The temperature spiked.

Not a subtle warmth, but an oppressive, searing heat that clawed at their skin and weighed on their bones. And this wasn't merely physical—it felt like something deeper had ignited, as though their very souls had been set ablaze.

"Do you feel that?" one of the royal guards gasped.

T'Challa's senses sharpened. He was no stranger to the intense African sun, but this was no ordinary heat. This was something unnatural, something... apocalyptic.

Everyone instinctively looked skyward.

And then—they saw it.

A meteorite.

Massive. Flaming. Tumbling from the heavens like the fist of a vengeful god. It blazed with unfathomable force, tearing through the clouds as it fell. The sky around it twisted in its wake, light bending unnaturally.

A wave of dread swept through the Wakandan ranks.

The oppressive force emanating from the celestial projectile pushed down on them like gravity itself had tripled. Their breath caught. Their legs wobbled. Even T'Challa—enhanced by the heart-shaped herb—felt his knees threaten to buckle.

The royal prince hissed, the panic overtaking his training.

"Activate the energy shield! Full power! A hundred percent—NOW!!"

Wakanda's famed energy dome, usually operating at a reduced level for concealment and scanning, surged to life. A blue shimmer rippled across the landscape as the full defense matrix flared online.

In theory, the shield could repel any known threat on Earth.

But this wasn't theoretical anymore.

Wakanda had never actually tested its defenses against a falling meteorite.

Let alone... one summoned by magic.

And not just any magic—a six-ring spell.

As the meteor streaked downward, it grew larger—not smaller—defying the natural laws of friction and atmospheric resistance. The flames licking its exterior shifted through a wild spectrum: red, crimson, deep maroon, then violet... then black.

Black fire.

The flames writhed with unnatural energy, as if burning not oxygen, but reality itself.

"What... is that...?" whispered a guard.

But the horror wasn't over.

From the tail of the meteor, smaller flaming projectiles began to break off. One by one at first. Then in dozens. Then hundreds. A storm of miniature black meteors rained down from the sky, coating the heavens in trails of darkness.

It wasn't a meteor.

It was a meteor storm.

"Six-ring magic..." Joseph murmured with a faint smile. "Fire God: Meteor Annihilation."

That was the name of the spell.

It was his answer to Wakanda's technology.

This was no show of force.

This was a message.

Wakanda trembled.

Even the fearless Dora Milaje hesitated, their usual steel-like resolve wavering as they witnessed a magical cataclysm that threatened to erase their home from existence.

T'Challa, panting and wide-eyed, felt panic claw at his throat.

He had never faced anything like this.

Not Vibranium spears, not Panther armor, not training in the mountains could prepare him for this.

And then—finally—a voice crackled through the comms.

A new aircraft, sleeker and more advanced than any of the others, roared into view.

"Mr. Joseph, please—this is a misunderstanding!"

The voice was firm but respectful.

"Wakanda has never been hostile to Mutants. On behalf of our kingdom, we ask that you cease your magic. We will receive you with the highest honors."

It was the voice of King T'Chaka, Wakanda's sovereign.

Joseph raised an eyebrow.

"Well. That's better," he murmured, pleased.

Then, under the stunned gazes of T'Challa and the others, he raised one hand overhead, pointing to the sky.

And gave a gentle flick.

The flames disappeared.

In an instant, the black fire vanished. The smaller meteorites lost their fury and momentum, becoming harmless debris. They bounced harmlessly off the energy shield, scattering like ash in the wind.

The massive black meteor, now a colossal chunk of smoldering stone, curved midair in an elegant arc and shot westward—away from the city.

Moments later—

BOOM!!!

The ground quaked violently.

The meteor crashed into the nearby jungle, creating a thunderous explosion. A black plume of fire erupted into the sky, briefly blotting out the sun and throwing half the skyline into shadow.

Even from miles away, the heatwave washed over them, rattling trees and shaking buildings. Birds scattered. Leaves burned. Animals cried out and fled.

A terrifying reminder:

If Joseph had aimed that at Wakanda… the kingdom might no longer exist.

The crowd stood frozen in disbelief.

T'Challa slowly turned to the sky as his father's ship descended. The craft hovered for a second before the ramp opened, and a regal figure emerged in a sleek Black Panther suit trimmed with gold.

King T'Chaka.

In a few fluid movements, he landed on the ground and approached Joseph.

The elder king deactivated his helmet, revealing a strong, wise face.

"I am T'Chaka," he said respectfully. "King of Wakanda. And I welcome you, King of Mutants."

Joseph nodded calmly, his expression unreadable.

"You have remarkable power," T'Chaka continued. "And more importantly, you chose to spare us. For that, you have my respect."

T'Chaka had seen much in his life—but nothing like this. Still, he understood strength. And more importantly, he understood diplomacy.

He smiled warmly. "To what do we owe the honor of your visit, Mr. Joseph?"

Joseph's eyes remained steady.

"I came," he said, "to establish diplomatic ties."

That took everyone aback.

"Diplomatic... ties?" T'Chaka repeated, confused.

"With Wakanda," Joseph confirmed. "And to propose technological exchange."

The words hung in the air like a second meteor.

T'Chaka hesitated, visibly thrown off. "Forgive me... but does Mutant society possess a sovereign nation? How can you establish diplomacy without a nation-state?"

A fair question.

Wakanda's intelligence network knew well that Mutants were fragmented—ostracized in most countries, persecuted in others.

Joseph's reply was calm. Confident.

"Not yet," he said. "But that doesn't mean we won't."

That simple sentence sent chills down T'Chaka's spine.

He glanced at his son.

T'Challa's face remained stoic—but even he was shaken.

If the Mutants united...

If they formed a nation...

Who could stop them?

Joseph's gaze didn't waver. "We don't need to be enemies, King T'Chaka. We both have something to offer."

"What are you proposing?" the king asked, cautious.

Joseph smiled. "I'm proposing a deal. A fair one."

T'Chaka raised an eyebrow. "And what kind of deal would that be?"

Joseph stepped forward, his tone casual—but every word precise.

"Vibranium."

The air turned cold.

Behind T'Chaka, guards flinched. Black Panther's hands curled into fists.

Joseph had named the forbidden fruit.

He didn't stop.

"Wakanda guards Vibranium jealously, and rightfully so," he said. "But imagine what we could accomplish—together. You have the world's greatest metal. We have magic. We have superpowers. We have gifted individuals who bend space and time."

He paused.

"I propose a partnership. Limited quantities of Vibranium in exchange for access to advanced magical defense systems, healing techniques, and combat magic. Not for war. For mutual growth."

T'Chaka was silent.

The offer was audacious.

Dangerous.

But also... tempting.

Wakanda had always relied on its isolation and secrecy. But in recent years, the outside world was changing rapidly. Aliens. Gods. Mutants. Artificial intelligences. Ancient threats resurfacing.

Even Wakanda's vast power had limits.

And Joseph had demonstrated today that those limits could be tested.

The king turned, exchanged a long look with T'Challa.

Then back to Joseph.

"Your proposal," he said at last, "is bold. Dangerous. But perhaps… necessary."

He extended his hand.

"Let us discuss it properly. As equals."

Joseph smiled.

"Of course," he said, taking the hand. "Let's build something greater than either of us alone."