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(General P.O.V)
Morning crept in slowly over the Wakandan cliffs, bathing the 4 vibranium pillars surrounding a containment tent in the middle of the Plateau with a hazy amber glow.
Within the tent, Bond floated cross-legged, eyes closed, arms resting on his knees.
Energy pulsed around him, faintly golden and just barely restrained. His skin glimmered with a radioactive sheen, as if lit from within.
Across from him, Shaw sat calmly on the floor, his slowly moving hands producing tendrils of red energy that circled Bond's body in translucent, cooling spirals.
"Hold still Sergeant," Shaw muttered. "Every time you think about your impending doom, your radiation spikes."
Bond's eyelids fluttered. "You'll forgive me for being a bit on edge."
Shaw didn't smile. "Forgiveness is irrelevant if we and half the continent blow up."
The energy manipulation continued, precise and measured. Shaw's touch was refined, almost surgical—adjusting, syncing, and stabilizing Bond's chaotic aura like tuning the strings of a volatile instrument.
A beat passed. Then Bond opened his eyes.
"You knew Erskine."
Shaw chuckled, a single dry sound. "Everyone talks about that man like he was some kind of Prometheus. He wasn't. Just another monkey trying to cheat God out of a little fire."
Bond's gaze narrowed. "He created something extraordinary."
Shaw raised an eyebrow. "Did he?"
He gestured to Bond's body. "You're burning alive. Barely able to hold yourself together. If that's the apex of human ingenuity, then I'll stick to evolution, thank you."
"You think mutants are the future." Bond said evenly.
"I think mutants are the now," Shaw corrected. "The culmination of nature's long, brutal climb toward godhood. Tell me, Bond, if someone can reshape the fabric of existence with a thought—bend time, alter gravity, rewrite biology—why shouldn't that being be called superior?"
"Because superiority isn't just power," Bond replied. "It's restraint. Compassion. Vision."
"Romantic nonsense, my dear Sergeant." Shaw said. "Humanity built its throne by conquering every other species on the planet. They rose not by compassion but by intelligence. We have both intelligence and gifts that defy biology. Why shouldn't we reign over humans, as they reigned over the beasts?"
Bond's lips curled into a humorless smile. "And there it is."
"There what?"
"The god complex. I thought you were just a radical. But you're no different from the tyrants before you. Hitler, with his Aryan fantasies—"
"Don't you dare compare me to that cretin." Shaw's tone darkened, showing the first cracks in his mask.
Inwardly Bond smiled, outwardly he stared unflinchingly. "Why not? You believe in a master race. The only difference is your metric."
Shaw leaned forward. "I don't care about race. I don't care about borders or flags or cultures. I deal in facts. Scientifical, observable, repeatable facts. Mutants break the biological rules that bind humans. That is not ideology, that is truth. A truth you yourself embody."
"You think that makes you better?"
"It makes us different."
"No," Bond said coolly. "It makes you dangerous."
His current situation was proof. Even unintentionally, Bond carried the risk of destroying the world. Those were the facts.
Shaw's voice dropped to a low murmur. "We are dangerous. And we should be. Evolution demands it. Power is meant to be used, not wasted on the petty ethics of the weaker species. You… of all people… should know that by now."
Bond scoffed. "I was wrong to compare you to Hitler. You're not as ideological."
"Glad to see you've come around."
Bond's eyes glinted. "You're more like Red Skull. Just another man greedy for power."
The line landed like a blow.
Shaw stood.
For a moment, all was still.
Then he smirked, barely masking his irritation. "Red Skull was a parasite, trying to steal the divine. I am the divine. I don't need to reach for power. I am made of it."
Bond didn't respond immediately.
He glanced down at his golden hands, his body still gently glowing from the controlled radiation inside.
"Funny," he said finally. "Doesn't look like divinity from here. Just fear, wearing a crown."
Shaw's energy twitched—but he said nothing. Instead, he turned toward the tent window slit overlooking the Wakandan cliffs.
"They should be arriving soon," he said. "The ores to act as the conduit. Then we begin."
Bond didn't take his eyes off him. "Let's just hope I'm still around to properly thank you."
Just as the air settled between them, the tent's entrance flapped open, and a maskless Sw'thandi entered with urgency in his dark panther suit. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his jaw spoke volumes.
"We have a problem." He announced without preamble.
Bond slowly straightened from his floating position, the purple energy barrier separating him, warping in visible strain.
Shaw remained where he stood, hands behind his back, watching.
"What kind of problem?" Bond asked.
Sw'thandi's eyes flicked toward him, then back to Shaw. "The Vibranium vaults have been compromised. All nine thousand tons of unrefined ore—gone."
Bond blinked. "Gone?"
"Every last ounce, stolen." Sw'thandi confirmed. "Vanished without a trace. We've sealed all exits and deployed the Dora Milaje and every available unit. No one will leave Wakanda without being seen. I swear it on my Royal blood."
There was a pause.
Then Shaw spoke. "Don't bother."
Sw'thandi turned sharply. "What?"
"There's no need to look for the culprit," Shaw said with a smirk. "I took it."
The words hit like thunder.
"You—" Sw'thandi growled, his voice rising as his claws slid out with a chilling hiss. "SHAW!"
He lunged.
But before his claws could tear into Shaw's smug face, there was a sudden pop of displaced air and a swirl of red smoke.
A red-skinned figure in a tailored suit appeared between them, yellow eyes gleaming— Azazel, a mutant under Shaw.
In one fluid motion, the demon-like mutant snatched Sw'thandi mid-air and the two vanished with a second pop.
The Dora Milaje stormed into the chamber in response to the commotion. They wasted no time, their vibranium spears and blades pointed directly at Shaw.
He didn't move.
With a casual shrug, he lifted a hand and unleashed a silent shockwave.
The air shimmered. Time seemed to bend.
The women didn't even scream.
In an instant, they were gone—reduced to ash. Their weapons, armor, bones and even the tent—obliterated.
The wind carried their remains through the broken silence.
Bond stared in horror. "You—"
That attack...had used his radiation. The same uncontrollable energy he was barely enduring.
Shaw shivered in pleasure.
"Woo! Your energy has a kick," he murmured, flexing his fingers like he was savoring an aftertaste. "More potent than anything I've ever absorbed. I should thank you."
Bond's voice dropped to a low growl, his anger barely contained."Why are you doing this?"
"Still thinking in binary terms. Good, evil. Villains and heroes," Shaw sighed as he took a step back from the energy barrier which was the only thing keeping Bond contained. "You should be asking yourself how much time you have left before your body explodes."
Bond stared at his shaking hands as the radiation surged erratically. He slowly looked up with a glare."You bloody bastard."
All that talk about stabilizing Bond before the energy draining procedure, had been a lie. An opportunity for Shaw to absorb his powers and sabotage Bond's control even more.
Bond slammed his hands on the barrier.
"Whoa Sergeant...Don't forget the millions of Wakandans that will instantly burn, if you lose control and destroy the barrier."
Bond gritted his teeth. "Why? Why do all this?"
Shaw's expression tightened with contempt. "Because you refused to evolve. Because you insisted on defending the monkeys."
Bond clenched his fists.
Shaw continued, voice rising now. "I came here with two purposes. One: to invite a fellow mutant—you—to the Hellfire Club. I believed perhaps you'd understand what we are. That you'd walk with gods. I would have even made you an equal. We could have ruled together."
He shook his head.
"But no. You chose them. The weak. The afraid. The obsolete. The Erskines."
He spread his arms wide. "And two: I came to steal Wakanda's vibranium. Mission accomplished."
As if on cue, Azazel reappeared beside him with a swirl of brimstone. He bowed slightly, offering Bond a mock salute.
"Thank you, Azazel," Shaw patted him. "Transporting nine thousand tons of unrefined ore without setting off a single alarm? Masterful."
"Pleasure's mine," Azazel replied, his voice thick with accent and amusement.
Shaw turned back to Bond and gave a theatrical bow. "And now, if you'll excuse us, we must take our leave."
Bond's eyes narrowed to slits. "Where's Sw'thandi?"
Azazel smiled and pointed skyward. "Oh, he'll be with us in about... ten... nine..."
Bond didn't wait for the count.
The barrier popped apart as he rocketed upward in a streak of golden-white hot light, ignoring the growing instability within.
The pressure in his chest built like a furnace and cracks emerged all over him. But he pushed through the pain. Adaptation would buy him a few seconds at most. Enough to save a friend.
Up in the sky, he spotted the limp figure tumbling down toward the Earth—Sw'thandi's body spinning uncontrollably as gravity pulled him toward death.
Bond caught him mid-air, clutching his barely conscious body close, then veered downward, straining to control the boiling energy within.
"Come on...just a little longer."
He flew toward the river, wind screaming past him, and dropped Sw'thandi safely into the water before shooting upward again, straight toward the upper atmosphere.
He broke through the clouds. Higher.
The air thinned, stars emerged. His skin began to crackle and split.
His vision blurred.
With the fading presence of Earth behind him, Bond screamed—pure sound, raw power.
Then came the detonation.
A sphere of light bloomed above the world, brighter than the sun, blinding and divine.
For a moment, the sky became a second day.
Down below, Sw'thandi emerged from the river gasping. Water poured from his mouth as he dragged himself to the shore. He turned to look at the heavens—just in time to witness the final, fading brilliance of the blast.
The shockwave struck seconds later, rattling the earth and flattening trees across miles.
Sw'thandi stared up at the sky.
His breath caught in his throat.
He whispered, almost involuntarily, "Oh no."
He knew.
James Bond was dead.