“In one, your brother was injured by Doctor Doom, and in his absence, you assumed the role of Black Panther. In another, the two of you wage war against the gods Ra and Konshu. I even visited one in which you are both fictional characters, written to entertain and inspire the disenfranchised.”

𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟸. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑.
𝙰𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚕 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚒𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚎𝚏.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝟼𝟶’𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚞𝚗𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚔𝚎𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏.

𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍… 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌.

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎; 𝚊 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚕. 𝙸𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚢: 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗.
𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚗, 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟸, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢…

A brief hint of sadness in his eyes gave his smile a bittersweet air.

“I’ve traveled the multiverse and seen different realities. Each was made better by having either one you in it, but the best were always the ones that had 𝙗𝙤𝙩𝙝 of you.”