Marvel : The God Of Punishment System

In the skies above Wakanda, King T'Chaka banked his fighter jet sharply as he prepared to strike the coalition's ground positions. The moment he received Shuri's urgent transmission about the incoming missile wave, his tactical priorities shifted instantly.

First priority: neutralize enemy missiles and fighters!

...

War Machine Colonel James Rhodes rocketed through the air, his Stark-designed armor gleaming among the second wave of coalition aircraft. Flying in tight formation with two other similarly equipped operators, they formed an elite "Iron War Team."

These weren't just any suits - each armored unit represented a billion-dollar investment by the Pentagon. Even with Rhodes negotiating a "friendly price" for his military contacts, the cost still reached astronomical tiers. And that was before factoring in maintenance, upgrades, and ammunition.

But for technology this advanced? The Pentagon bought in - though only three units to start.

Today marked their combat debut, and both the military brass and Tony Stark himself were watching closely.

...

Meanwhile, fresh off a surprisingly civil conversation with the president, Jason had secured the adamantium alloy formula. Reluctantly shedding his beloved vibranium pants, he'd rushed to produce a limited supply of specially-crafted bullets.

These rounds now fed the Gatling guns mounted on Rhodes and his wingmen - Jason's trump card against Wakanda's seemingly impenetrable forces.

...

The first wave of coalition missiles painted contrails across the African sky. T'Chaka's voice crackled through the comm system: "All units, engage! Destroy every incoming projectile!"

Wakandan interceptors moved in perfect formation, unleashing their full arsenal. Energy weapons, conventional missiles, and rail-gun fire lit up the atmosphere as they systematically dismantled the American bombardment.

Within minutes, most threats had been neutralized. A few stray missiles slipped through, but Wakanda's ground-based laser defense systems would handle those.

T'Chaka allowed himself a brief moment of relief before his sensors screamed warnings. Enemy fighters approached in force.

Rage surged through the old king. "All wings, follow my lead!"

The veteran warrior dove toward the enemy formation with practiced aggression.

If only he'd known Rhodes and his team already had him locked in their targeting systems.

Perhaps decades of isolation had dulled Wakanda's wartime instincts. Spotting T'Chaka's command fighter proved laughably simple - the larger, more elaborately crafted vessel stood out like a beacon.

Rhodes didn't hesitate. "Engaging primary target."

Three streams of adamantium death lanced across the sky.

Clang clang clang...

T'Chaka's initial confidence stemmed from long-held beliefs. His fighter's vibranium-reinforced hull, the specially treated cockpit glass, his own Black Panther suit - all should have been impenetrable to conventional weapons.

BANG BANG BANG!

The reality proved far different. Spider-web patterns spread across his cockpit as the adamantium rounds bit deep. In the strobing muzzle flash, T'Chaka glimpsed a bullet embedding itself in what should have been unbreakable material.

Sharp pain bloomed in his chest as hundreds more rounds found their mark. The Black Panther armor absorbed much of the impact, but far too many penetrated flesh and bone.

His hands slipped from the controls as darkness crept into his vision.

...

"FATHER!" Shuri's scream echoed through the command center as tracking data showed the royal fighter plummeting. "King! Come in! What's your status?"

Static answered her desperate calls.

Behind her, Queen Mother Ramonda stood frozen, eyes locked on the radar display.

More static, then: "Szzzt... The King has fallen!" General Okoye's devastated voice finally broke through. "The King... is down."

Silence fell like a shroud. How could this happen? Wakanda's technology was decades beyond anything the outside world possessed!

The loss of their leader sent ripples of confusion through Wakandan ranks. Some pilots pressed their attacks, others broke formation to search for survivors, while a few began tactical withdrawals.

Rhodes seized the moment, unleashing precision strikes that claimed Wakandan fighter after fighter.

...

On the ground, coalition armor rolled forward as Wakanda's protective barrier flickered and died. American soldiers couldn't believe their eyes - was that really a cavalry charge of armored rhinoceros and elephants?

The Wakandans advanced in tight formation, shields raised and spears at the ready, looking like something from an ancient battlefield rather than the 21st century.

The tank commander blinked in confusion. "Since when do we do close quarters combat?"

He raised his fist, signaling a halt. "All tanks, arm high-explosive rounds!

"FIRE!"

Explosions ripped through the Wakandan ranks. But as the smoke cleared, impossible scenes emerged - rhinos charged through the barrage unscathed while warriors at the rear raised cloaks that formed shimmering blue energy shields, deflecting direct artillery hits.

"Christ!" the commander grabbed his radio. "Fire support! Coordinates..."

Shells rained from the sky seconds later. This proved more effective - the energy shields couldn't maintain omnidirectional coverage, and many began failing from power drain.

Wakanda's isolation had cost them dearly. With all resources focused on special operations and air superiority, they'd never developed ground armor or heavy vehicles. Their warriors, despite exceptional training and vibranium weapons, remained vulnerable once their shields and air cover failed.

Though the armored war-beasts demolished several tanks, even they couldn't withstand concentrated artillery fire.

Soon, flames engulfed sections of Wakanda's capital as American boots hit African soil.

...

Aboard the USS George H.W. Bush, champagne clinked in celebration despite heavy losses.

"A bit excessive with our preparations, perhaps?" General Ross mused to the president's video feed.

Freeman flashed his signature smile. "Tone it down next time, Five-Star General Ross!"

Their laughter rang hollow against the backdrop of distant explosions.

...

T'Challa's awakening from the heart-shaped herb ceremony granted him enhanced strength, speed, and senses. But joy transformed to anguish as devastating news flooded in.

The King... fallen? Ground forces... routed? The palace... burning?

Grief became rage as he stormed into the command center. "I will avenge my father!"

...

Rhodes and his Iron War Team burned through their ammunition stocks, claiming only seven or eight Wakandan fighters despite their advanced weaponry. Vibranium and exotic alloys made the enemy aircraft nearly indestructible.

Even this kill count exceeded the conventional US fighters, which managed three victories while losing half their number.

With both sides low on munitions, the Wakandans suddenly disengaged, retreating inland.

Before Rhodes could analyze this tactical shift, alarms shrieked. A dozen fresh Wakandan fighters vectored in at maximum velocity.

"Fall back!" Rhodes ordered, but their pursuers rapidly gained. These new arrivals didn't just close the distance - they blazed past the Iron War Teams in seconds, setting course for open ocean.

Rhodes felt ice in his stomach. Only one target lay in that direction - the carrier group.

...

T'Challa's knuckles whitened on his flight controls as fury consumed him. These invaders would pay for their audacity - their violation of sacred soil, their murder of his people...

He would deliver retribution in kind.

"All wings, descend to nap-of-earth altitude!"

A dozen jets skimmed the wave tops at speeds that would prove instantly fatal if they clipped the surface. But Wakandan pilots possessed skills matching their technology.

"Engage the aircraft carrier first," T'Challa commanded. "I'll take the largest surface combatant. Make them understand the true cost of their aggression!"

"Affirmative!" came the unified response.

...

General Ross's champagne glass lay forgotten as sweat soaked through his uniform. The enemy's final gambit had caught him completely off-guard - abandoning their homeland to strike directly at the fleet.

Have they lost their minds?

He vowed to survive this assault before demanding immediate nuclear authorization.

"Damn it, find them!" he roared. "You worthless—"

The radar operator's face glistened with nervous perspiration. "Negative contact, sir! They must be using the ocean surface to mask their approach!"

"Kentucky here," crackled the submarine comm. "Sonar detecting massive acoustic signatures inbound. Suggest immediate defensive—"

Alarms screeched as targets materialized on radar.

Through the bridge windows, Ross watched in horror as enemy fighters burst from the waves, climbing vertical like missiles launched from the depths.

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