Marvel x Genshin: Mavuika, The Sun Goddess Rules Asgard — Chapter 200

Chapter 200: Warm Hospitality

Around the grand dining table, chairs were arranged in perfect order. Their backrests were carved with exquisite tribal totems, a beautiful and surprisingly comfortable fusion of tradition and function. The national flags of Wakanda and the banners of its various tribes hung from the walls of the banquet hall, their complex symbols standing out in sharp relief under the brilliant lights.

From the vaulted ceiling, a massive crystal chandelier cast a glittering cascade of light downwards. It was augmented by a high-tech holographic projection system that filled the air with shimmering images of Wakanda’s stunning landscapes, the fluid grace of tribal dances, and key moments from its long and storied history. The effect was a vibrant, immersive atmosphere that was both lively and deeply reverent.

Wakandan guards, clad in immaculate battle uniforms and armed with gleaming Vibranium spears, stood in disciplined formations around the hall’s perimeter. They were a silent, watchful presence, their stoic forms adding a layer of solemn majesty to the celebratory evening.

At the tables, warriors laughed and conversed in booming voices, raising their glasses in spirited toasts and breaking into the rousing refrains of ancient war songs.

Thor sat at the heart of the festivities, a massive mug clutched in his hand. The Wakandan warriors had found it for him specifically; ordinary cups were simply insufficient for the volume of ale he preferred to down in a single go. He had already lost count of how many he had emptied, and a ruddy flush had spread across his face. Yet, his eyes remained bright and clear, showing no hint of true intoxication.

“Good ale!” he roared, slapping the table with a force that made the dishes rattle. “This Palm Wine is even better than Asgard’s mead!”

A Wakandan warrior seated next to him—a powerfully built, bald woman with a chest and shoulders that spoke of a lifetime of combat—raised her own glass and let out a hearty laugh. “The way you drink is the way of a true warrior of our tribe! Have another!”

It was Okoye, the formidable Captain of the Dora Milaje. She wore a suit of striking red armor, her arms adorned with Vibranium bracers and her neck encircled by gold rings that shimmered in the light. Though she was not in her full combat regalia, the explosive power coiled in her muscles and the sheer force of her laughter made it clear she was not a woman to be trifled with.

Thor clinked his mug against her glass, and they both drained their drinks in one smooth motion.

Loki sat beside his brother, a study in contrasts. He held a small, delicate glass, from which he took slow, elegant sips. Dressed in a dark green shirt with his hair combed back carefully, he was an island of refined grace amidst the rugged, boisterous warriors. Yet, he did not seem out of place. He would occasionally offer a faint smile and a nod to the Wakandan women seated nearby, murmuring a few complimentary words in his magnetic voice, which invariably caused them to cover their mouths and giggle.

Wanda and Pietro were seated at the other end of the long table. The twins sat close, their shoulders nearly touching. Wanda held a glass of dark red juice, squeezed from a berry native to Wakanda. It was a pleasant mix of sweet and sour, and she sipped it slowly, taking in the scene.

A plate piled high with food sat before Pietro, and he was devouring its contents at an astonishing speed.

“Wanda, this roast meat is delicious!” he said, his words muffled by a full mouth. “You have to try some!”

Wanda glanced at him, a small smile touching her lips. She picked up a piece of the glistening meat and took a tentative bite. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. It was indeed delicious—the skin was perfectly crispy, the meat within was impossibly tender, and the rich flavor of the spices permeated every fiber, leaving a warm, lingering aftertaste.

“Not bad,” she conceded softly.

Pietro grinned, his face alight with simple pleasure, and immediately grabbed another piece.

Wanda watched him, her smile softening. In the cold, sterile confines of the HYDRA base, Pietro had never eaten like this. He had always eaten quickly, yes, but it was not born of enjoyment. It was the desperate, frantic consumption of someone who never knew when—or if—the next meal would come. Back then, his eyes would constantly scan his surroundings, his body coiled with tension, like a wild rabbit ready to bolt at the slightest disturbance.

But now, sitting in this grand Wakandan hall surrounded by strangers, that tense, ready-to-sprint posture was gone. He was just… eating. Like any other young man, joyfully gulping down delicious food.

Wanda looked down at the glass in her hand. The deep red juice shimmered like a liquid jewel under the lights.

Perhaps, she thought, this was what a “normal” life felt like.

Further down the table, Tony was seated next to King T’Chaka, the two of them conversing in low tones. A glass of wine sat untouched before Tony; his attention was entirely captivated by the young woman beside the king.

It was Shuri, T’Chaka’s daughter and Wakanda’s Chief Scientist. She looked to be in her early twenties, with sharp, stylishly short hair. She wore a high-tech, silver-gray jumpsuit, and several glowing Vibranium bracelets encircled her wrists. Her eyes were large and full of a bright, crackling spirit, and she spoke with the passionate fervor unique to a true scientific mind.

“Mr. Stark,” Shuri said, pointing to a structural diagram shimmering on the holographic projection between them. “Your Arc Reactor’s design concept is remarkably similar to our Wakandan Energy Siphon Technology. Look here,” she traced a line with her finger, “the energy output curves are almost identical.”

Tony leaned in for a closer look, his brow furrowing slightly. “It is very similar. But I’ve never seen this structure in any published literature.”

Shuri smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Of course you haven’t. This is technology unique to Wakanda. Centuries ago, our ancestors discovered the unique energy properties of Vibranium and used it to build our national power grid. Your Arc Reactor was invented in recent decades. Our Energy Siphon Technology has been in continuous use for hundreds of years.”

Tony’s lip twitched. He hated being one-upped, but he had to admit that Wakanda’s technology was light-years ahead of anything in the outside world.

“Miss Shuri,” Bruce Banner interjected from Tony’s other side, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “What about your AI technology? I noticed you don’t seem to use artificial intelligence at all.”

Shuri shrugged. “We don’t. Because it’s unsafe.” She shot a quick, pointed glance at Tony. She didn’t say the words “like a certain someone’s Ultron,” but the implication hung heavy and clear in the air.

Tony studiously pretended not to notice.

Banner, ever the curious scientist, pressed on. “Then what do you use to manage such a massive energy grid?”

Shuri raised her wrist, and the Vibranium bracelet lit up with a soft blue light. “We use this. The inherent intelligence of Vibranium itself. Vibranium isn’t just a metal; it possesses memory and sensitivity. It’s capable of responding to external stimuli. We simply use it as a living material, rather than attempting to create an intelligence independent of it.”

A look of dawning comprehension crossed Banner’s face. “So your technology is developed based on the intrinsic properties of Vibranium, rather than having a concept first and then searching for materials to fit it, like we do.”

Shuri nodded, her expression sharp. “Correct. And that is why we don’t have issues with ‘AI going out of control.’ Because Vibranium will never betray its master.”

Tony finally took a sip of his wine, saying nothing.

Shuri looked at him, a hint of playful challenge in her eyes. “Mr. Stark, don’t be sad. Although your technology is… outdated, it still has some highlights. That portable suit design of yours, for instance. I quite like it. Perhaps we can collaborate in the future?”

Tony set his glass down, a slow, familiar smile spreading across his face. “Collaborate? Sure. But it would have to be a project that interests me.”