T’Challa flipped a dozen switches, manipulating the holographic controls to slow his jet. Thrusters fired and the aircraft came to an abrupt stop, hovering in midair. The readouts indicated a large swathe had been cut into the jungle by the crashing plane. He tapped on a readout, zooming in on the crash site. The airframe seems intact, I expect the crew survived. The Wakandan defense cannons were designed to deactivate the majority of an aircraft’s navigation systems, but allow it to achieve a successful emergency landing. T’Challa zoomed in on a crater a hundred meters away from the crash site- and checked the sensors. One lifeform, significant metahuman readings. Conclusion- extreme mutation, biological enhancement, or extra-terrestrial origin.
He hit a switch, opening the extraction hatch below him. Sliding out of his seat, T’Challa plummetted into air. He was at least two hundred feet above the jungle canopy, and as he fell his cape billowed around him. T’Challa’s heart leaped into his throat as he soared toward the hard ground below. A fall from that height would surely have killed any man, but not the Black Panther. He landed nimbly on the jungle floor, going to one knee- as the vibranium lining in his boots instantly absorbed the force of his landing.
In an instant, he was bounding through the jungle- leaping tree limbs, ducking between huge roots, and never losing momentum as he did. In under a minute, he had arrived at the crash site. Debris littered the ground around him, and small fires burned in the undergrowth. Stalking through the trees like his namesake, the Black Panther climbed up the side of aircraft- raking his gold claws across the airframe. The metal parted like paper beneath the anti-metal claws, dissolving away to reveal a hole large enough for him to enter through. He crept within, intent on discovering the truth behind the intrusion into his country.