To: Shuri From: T'Challa

To: Shuri From: T'Challa
Intelligence
Patch: 2.0
Shuri,

Father knew the peace talks with the Jabari tribe were a sensitive issue, but he could never resist me when I asked to learn how to be a great King. We took six Hatut Zeraze with us. No one else.

The mute zone village was quiet. When we arrived at the square, there was a stage for our father and the Jabari ambassador to speak from. I remember thinking a lot of people had come to watch, but now I know there were only fifty.

I had heard father practice his speech so many times I could have given it. I mimed along with his motions, mouthing the words. When he raised his hand in an open palm, I raised my hand - and it began.

All six Hatut Zeraze knelt before the Jabari ambassador before turning their weapons on our father. The ambassador demanded no witnesses. His own guards began killing the crowd, one by one.

I have never seen our father fight harder than he did that day to get to me. He was the Black Panther every second of his final moments.

Father reached me just as a traitor raised his claws in front of me. But no strike came. I was pressed to the ground, the wind knocked out of me. I did not remember closing my eyes, but when they opened, Father's face was close to mine.

I did not move. I did not breathe. I pretended to be dead beneath our father's corpse. I begged Bast to let me live, and she sent me a miracle. Believing me dead, the traitors left. The quiet returned.

Was he afraid? The look in his eyes was not fear. Did he suffer? No. One moment he was there, and the next Bast him.

Shuri, you may not be the girl who cried on my shoulder as mother told you what happened, but that boy beneath his father's body, frozen in cowardice, is still within me.

Regret cannot alter what one has done, but it can fuel what one does next. I hope the truth does for you what it could not for me.

Your Brother