To punish Shuri for her little tricks and to better control Wakanda Rowan ordered T'Challa to relocate the entire Wakandan Research Center to New York.
Shuri herself would also serve as a hostage and accompany them to New York.
Rowan didn't hesitate to take the royal family's vibranium butterfly-shaped aircraft, conveniently loading it with another ten tons of vibranium.
On top of that, he demanded ten stalks of the Heart-Shaped Herb, along with the full cultivation method.
"From this day forward, Wakanda is no longer permitted to conduct private research on vibranium technology. Any vibranium mined must be sealed and put into storage. Understood?" Rowan said before departing, his tone cold and absolute.
"Yes, understood," King T'Chaka bowed his head in reply.
With that, Rowan boarded the vibranium craft alongside Shuri, and the ship roared skyward.
On the way back, Rowan called Tony.
"Hey Tony, you home right now? I picked up a private plane, but I don't have anywhere to park it. Thought I'd borrow your place for a while."
"…A private plane? Uh, sure, I'm at home."
Tony's voice over the phone was groggy, rough he clearly partied hard last night and hadn't fully woken up.
Hanging up, Rowan thought to himself that maybe it was about time he bought a private villa.
After all, with both Maria Hill and Natasha Romanoff having grown stronger, he didn't have to worry about their daily safety anymore.
Now that he also had a vibranium ship, he needed somewhere suitable to park it.
"A regular villa won't do. I'll need something remote, like a private estate, or a place like Tony's seaside mansion."
Rowan mulled it over. A location like Tony's was rare in New York secluded, scenic, and quiet.
"Maybe I should ask Tony if there's space nearby to build another one," he thought, nodding to himself.
Meanwhile, at the controls, Shuri piloted nervously. She stole glances at Rowan, pricking up her ears to eavesdrop on his call.
She feared him, yet the way he spoke on the phone didn't sound all that vicious it almost made him seem approachable.
When the call ended, Rowan realized he still hadn't dismissed his vibranium armor.
He tapped a button on his forearm. The armor retracted, dissolving away piece by piece until it folded back into a sleek bracer.
Shuri had been sneaking side glances, but when she saw this, she turned fully, eyes wide in shock.
She had expected the armor to hide some scarred villain. Instead, she found a young, strikingly handsome man.
"What are you staring at? Focus on flying," Rowan snapped.
Shuri shrank back and turned away quickly, but after a few seconds of hesitation, she blurted out: "How old are you?"
Rowan rolled his eyes and looked away. "From now on, don't call me 'you.' Call me 'Boss.'"
"Yes, Boss. But… you look so young."
"I am young."
"So then, how old exactly—"
A strip of nanotech band shot out, wrapping firmly around her mouth, silencing her instantly.
Rowan had manually muted her.
Shuri had no choice but to focus on piloting, though inside, her fear had eased a little.
…
The vibranium craft was fast. Crossing Africa and the Atlantic, it reached New York in just four hours.
Thanks to its cloaking system, no one noticed a thing.
At Tony Stark's seaside villa, however, Pepper Potts was fuming. She had just finished ushering out yet another blonde model Tony brought home.
Every morning lately, her day began with "taking out the trash."
For the past two months, Tony had done nothing but drink and womanize.
On top of handling Stark Industries, Pepper also had to clean up Tony's personal disasters. She was on the verge of snapping.
Tony, of course, was all grins and charm, trying to defuse her anger while tinkering with his Iron Man suit's mechanical arm.
He sipped green spinach juice and made adjustments as if nothing was wrong.
"Tony, are you even listening? I can't take this anymore. If you keep this up, I'm quitting!" Pepper snapped.
"Pepper…" Tony began, about to soothe her with his usual lines, when a thunderous roar shook the villa.
The sound was like the house had been swallowed into a wind tunnel.
Both Tony and Pepper froze.
Hand in hand, they dashed out toward the noise.
When they looked up, their jaws dropped.
"Tony…" Pepper trembled, clutching his sleeve.
"I see it, Pepper…" Tony swallowed hard.
Above them, descending gracefully, was a vibranium craft. Silver and black, glowing blue engines, butterfly wings it radiated futuristic power.
One glance told Tony this wasn't an American machine. America didn't have hovering jets.
His mind leapt to S.H.I.E.L.D. maybe Fury's secret project?
But then he remembered Rowan's morning phone call. Something about needing to park a plane.
"…No way," Tony muttered, face twisting.
But his instincts told him it was exactly that.
"Tony, should we run?" Pepper whispered, tense.
The scene looked straight out of an alien invasion movie.
"You're right. Let's move."
Tony rushed her back into the workshop. He suited up quickly, even giving Pepper a backup set of armor for safety.
When they emerged again, the sleek craft had already landed.
Its door hissed open. Rowan stepped out.
"…Rowan?"
Pepper gasped in recognition.
"Hey, Pepper. Hey, Tony. What's with the armor? Some kind of roleplay?" Rowan smirked.
Tony's mouth twitched. Of course, it was him.
Dropping his helmet, Tony stared flatly. "So this is your 'private plane'?"
Rowan chuckled. "That's right."
"…Hah."
Tony shook his head with a helpless laugh.
He walked over to the craft, running armored fingers along its hull. Clang clang. The sound was sharp, metallic, impossibly tough.
"What metal is this?" Tony asked, eyes wide. Something tickled at the back of his mind, a memory he couldn't place.
He was just about to ask J.A.R.V.I.S. when another figure stepped out of the ship.
It was Shuri.
Tony's mouth fell open.
He looked at Rowan. Then back at Shuri.
"You… and her… wait. Don't tell me…?"
Tony pointed at them both, expression somewhere between shock and disbelief, as if he had just seen a dinosaur.
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