Project Next-Gen (Being rewritten)

The aftermath: Part 1

The princess of Wakanda woke up a lot earlier than she usually did with a feeling, as if she knew that today was going to be interesting. And boy was she relieved. Ever since being bright back to life and the battle against Thanos, life had become dull. Most of her friends and coworkers were five years older and she didn't fit in anymore. In being brought back to life, things had returned to normal and become abnormal at the same time. She missed the excitement. The rush of adrenaline she got from fighting for what was right. She missed being a superhero.
"I should probably do something productive," she mumbled to herself after glancing at the holographic clock from her Kimoyo beads. She quickly got out of bed, and entered her bathroom, taking a quick shower, brushing her teeth and putting on some clothes before making her way to her lab. She made sure to greet the many guards on her way as she did every morning otherwise she would get a lecture from her mother about being humble.
When she reached her empty lab, she couldn't help but recall what she was thinking about when she first woke up. Superheroes. Was that really what she wanted?
"There is no point being a hero if there's nothing to save people from, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared," Shuri said to herself as she began scanning her various workbenches. The idea of hero work wasn't a spontaneous thought, she'd been thinking in depth about this for months and had crafted the perfect prototype for the job. Shri found them on a desk to her right, sitting elegantly against the marbled white tabletop. Picking them up delicately, Shuri slid the two sleek black forearm bracers onto her forearms. They were soft and comfortable but perfectly concealed their true purpose.
Mentally, Shuri's asked them to turn on, causing strips of black metal to shoot out with the intent of surrounding her body. Before they could however, she heard the voice of her brother in the entry hallway. Shuri quickly took the bracers off and stuffed them in a nearby box right as T'Challa entered.
"Why do you look so suspicious?"
"Nothing. Why are you up so early, my king?" Shuri asked with a smile as she greeted her brother. Although she was slightly frustrated that he had interrupted her, she was still happy her prototype worked and she was ready to move onto the final design.
"I couldn't sleep well. Ever since we came back, I keep feeling this sense of unease," T'Challa said, leaning on one of Shuri's tables.
"I can relate," Shuri replied under her breath.
"So what are you actually doing here, I know you didn't come here just to tell me how you slept," Shuri asked.
"What, can I not spend some quality time with my sister?" T'Challa responded sarcastically.
"You, I'm a lot smarter than you and I know when you're joking," Shuri said.
"Wow, so humble of you. Anyway, I will be in New York for the next few weeks for an Avengers meeting," T'Challa responded, crossing his arms. Shuri didn't seem fazed by this. She was used to his responsibilities as King and Black Panther sending him all over the world.
"Can you bring me a souvenir?" She asked, grabbing a power tool from her desk and using it to tweak a pair of bracelets on her work table.
"You still owe me one from India?"
"I won't need to bring you one, you can buy all the souvenirs you want yourself," T'Challa said calmly.
Shuri froze after hearing this, her tool dropped onto the table and her eyebrows furrowed as she began thinking. Was he kidding? No. That wasn't his type. That meant he was being serious.
"Are you saying what I think you're saying,"
"Yes, I want you to come with me,"
"Yesssss," Shuri yelled, jumping away from her table. The shock of what she had just heard gave her the energy to run a victory lamp around the room and when she returned, her brother couldn't help but laugh.
"Wait a minute. Why do you want to bring me with you?" She asked.
"Me and mother think a change of location might do you some good. Plus I hear a local superhero is a fan of your,"
"You might want to start packing, we leave tomorrow,"
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In a dark office within a secluded facility, a figure sat in their chair, staring at the wall with their fingers interlocked. Six years ago, they lost the subjects just as their benefactor had predicted and for five years, they had the time to solidify their plan.
"Uhhh, Ma'am," A voice called from Behind the figure. She swivelled her chair around, enough to see the origin of the voice in full view.
"What's wrong?" The woman in the chair asked in an authoritative, almost cold voice.
"The subject are ready to be transferred, just as you asked," The man opposite her desk responded.
"Good, our cover's been blown already. Get them to Los Angeles quickly," The woman responded.
The man turned around, ready to exit the office but stopped and turned his head to face the woman.
"Hail Hydra," He said before finally leaving the woman to her own thoughts.