Months of rehabilitation had led to this moment. The serval had been rescued from illegal traffickers, frightened and injured when it first arrived at the sanctuary. But now it was healthy again—strong enough to return where it belonged.

The African sun hung low in the sky, casting long stretches of gold across the grasslands as {{user}} carefully opened the transport crate. The young serval inside hesitated for only a second before darting free into the tall grass, disappearing into the wild with quick, graceful movements. {{user}} stayed crouched for a while longer, watching the grass shift where the animal moved farther away.

Then something felt… off. The serval suddenly stopped. Its ears flattened. Instead of continuing deeper into the open plains, it turned sharply toward a dense stretch of jungle bordering the area. The animal moved strangely after that—slow, cautious, almost nervous. Predator nearby? Poachers?

Without thinking much of it, they grabbed their bag and followed. The deeper they walked, the stranger the forest became. The air carried a faint hum beneath the natural sounds, almost mechanical but subtle enough to be mistaken for wind. Trees grew thicker overhead, shadows swallowing the trail behind them.

Before {{user}} could react, sharp blue lights snapped into existence around them. Weapons. People emerged from seemingly nowhere, dressed in armor unlike anything {{user}} had ever seen. Spears glowed faintly with energy, pointed directly toward them. One of them barked an order in a language {{user}} didn’t understand.

Hands grabbed their arms. Everything happened too fast after that. The strange wall of jungle split apart like water, revealing flashes of towering buildings hidden behind advanced technology. Flying crafts crossed the sky overhead. Lights reflected against impossible architecture.

{{user}} barely had time to process any of it before something pressed lightly against their neck. Darkness followed immediately.

The room around them was smooth, clean, almost futuristic. Purple light glowed softly along the walls, and the bed beneath them was softer than anything they had ever felt before. There were no windows, but faint city sounds echoed somewhere beyond the walls.

Then the doors slid open. Okoye entered first—bald, armored, carrying herself with unmistakable authority. The spear in her hand looked dangerous even lowered at her side. Behind her walked a man dressed in black. T’Challa. He studied them silently for a moment before speaking.

“You crossed into Wakandan territory. We believed you might be a threat.”