Marvel crosses Star Wars, and everyone attacks the galaxy

Under the deep night, T'Challa's world seemed different from the Wakanda in his memory. He looked up and saw that the sky that was once dotted with stars was now shrouded in a thick darkness, and the stars seemed to have hidden themselves.

However, everything around him was still clearly visible. He stood up from the bushes, his eyes full of curiosity.

Why was he here? This was not what he expected. He had not died, nor had he once again stepped into a mysterious herbal ritual. Instead, he was standing in the realm of Wakanda's ancestors.

T'Challa stood up and looked around, but he did not see the familiar image of the Black Panther, the patron saint of Wakanda. The ancient kings and queens, whose statues or images had once guided him, were gone.

Why is this place so barren and empty? He was filled with doubts.

T'Challa's mind raced as he tried to comprehend how he had come to be here, and why this sacred place lay so empty and desolate.

An inexplicable feeling of emptiness came over him quietly, and the feeling of uneasiness slowly spread throughout his body. At this moment, he heard a subtle sound behind him.

T'Challa slowly turned around and saw a man dressed simply and plainly - a plain shirt, pants and shoes. This was completely different from the ornate robes or simple royal clothing that he remembered the rulers of Wakanda wearing.

This stranger... why does his face look so familiar? T'Challa couldn't help but wonder. Not only is he familiar, but he seems to have a deeper feeling for this person.

Before T'Challa could speak, the strange man smiled, his voice full of intimacy. "You look a lot like him," the man said softly, "maybe even better. You must have inherited the best parts of your looks from your mother."

T'Challa stared at the man warily. He was aware of his family history, but the man before him... was not the king he was familiar with.

"Who... who are you?" T'Challa finally asked the question in his mind, with a hint of disappointment in his eyes. Looking at this man, his heart was filled with confusion.

"Me? I'm the guardian of this plane." The man said slowly, "I used to be a part of Wakanda, but now I protect the secrets and balance here."

This answer surprised and shocked T'Challa. He began to re-examine this strange world and the challenges he faced... In the deep veins of the family, a dialogue that had never happened before was quietly unfolding.

"I've never heard my brother or your mother mention me." He muttered in a low voice, as if searching for some fragment of an answer. "But I think they must have their reasons."

T'Challa seemed to be in a fantasy world, his name was gently called by a voice, repeated like a parrot. "Brother... Uncle? Uncle N'Jobu?"

"Ah." A familiar voice responded with a friendly smile, which instantly dispelled his doubts. "At least they had the decency to tell me your name, which is good."

T'Challa's heart was in turmoil. The family member in front of him was the uncle that his father rarely mentioned.

The prince did not realize that he had walked in front of his blood relative, and at this moment they hugged each other tightly. Uncle NJobu seemed a little surprised by this sudden intimate gesture, but still responded in his own unique way.

After the distance was pulled, Black Panther's speech became a little clumsy. "Uncle, why are you here? Why didn't I see you last time?"

"Are you telling the truth? You have to thank your father for that." There was a hint of profound meaning in the uncle's answer.

"What?" T'Challa was confused.

“I will tell you the whole story. N’Jobu turned and began to walk away slowly, but the panther instinctively followed him.

"Uncle, I think it's unfair for you to leave without explaining yourself clearly," T'Challa insisted.

N'Jobu turned around, a deep smile on his face. "Remember when we were little? Dad used to do the same thing to me and my brother," he said slowly. "I believe he was trying to teach us a lesson about patience... or maybe he just wanted to have fun with our frustration. I'm leaning more towards the latter now."

T'Challa stared ahead, the portal they had entered seemed to lead to endless years. "Uncle, why am I here?" he asked softly, "How did I end up here? I thought I couldn't set foot here unless I performed the ritual of the heart-shaped herb."

N'Jobu stared into his eyes, his expression becoming serious. "Because someone wants to have a conversation with you." These were his last words to his nephew before he left.

Then, T'Challa's body felt like it was struck by electricity, and he felt a tingling sensation from head to toe. He felt a powerful force surging nearby, and the sound came almost quietly from behind. He turned his head and saw a light flickering in the dark night, as if the call of fate was whispering in his ear. He stopped where he was, as if frozen by an invisible force. What appeared before him was a black panther, but it was not any kind he was familiar with.

Its body was huge, and it was as tall as he was. It was fierce and dangerous, yet it exuded a kind of elegance in its majesty. Its claws were silent as it approached, and its golden eyes were like molten gold, tightly locking onto the prince of Wakanda, T'Challa. It slowly stopped and sat down, and its tall body was particularly eye-catching in T'Challa's sight.

Suddenly, a mature woman's voice sounded with a maternal echo, "You are far away from home, my child." Although the voice was small, it echoed in T'Challa's ears, making him feel inexplicably intimate.

The Wakandans were stunned by this sudden situation and felt a deep awe for this magnificent creature - no, such a creature could not seem to be simply defined by a "name".

"I am Buster," Black Panther whispered.

The huge black panther goddess in front of him chuckled. Her voice was like a female roar, powerful yet soothing. "In the language that humans have developed over the centuries, there is a phrase to describe me. But don't wear it out. Beings like me are not to be underestimated."

T'Challa's mind nearly stopped beating as he heard the amplified Black Panther speak. Then it restarted as he reminded himself that this was the Astral Plane, and anything could happen.

He knew her. It all came back to the feeling and blessing he had felt when he took the heart-shaped herbs. He felt their full energy, all coming from her.

"Do you know who I am, little guy?" Buster asked.

"You are the Panther Goddess of Wakanda, Buster." T'Challa stared at the enlarged entity before he knelt and bowed his head in respect. "You are Galactus, owner of the sun and moon."

The newly recognized Buster smiled, her sharp white teeth gleaming in the light. She had the smile of an old, wise grandmother. "Very good, cub. Very good," she congratulated him.

She then continued, "Sadly, even among your own people, few remember us." This puzzled T'Challa. However, he realized that his connection with the Black Panther Goddess was much deeper than he had imagined. When the light of Wakanda's faith shone on the deity of Bastet, her words were so powerful.

Across the land, every school and every educational program prays devoutly to Bastet, seeking her gifts and remaining wisdom, a tradition that is still deeply preserved today.

Although he was filled with doubts, Prince T'Challa had more pressing questions that needed answers.

"Spirit Bast, why am I in the ancestral plane?" He raised his head in confusion and looked at the dark sky, the goddess' voice echoing in his ears.

"You are in a unique place in the universe." Buster said slowly, "This is a cosmic bond that makes the impossible possible."

Although the answer was vague, it answered at least one question in T'Challa's mind. Now, he was thinking about more personal questions.

"Bast...our parents, are they okay?" He asked carefully, his eyes full of hope and fear, looking at the goddess of the people. "Are they okay? Are they..."

"They are all safe, Prince T'Challa." Buster's voice was full of warmth and comfort.

The future king slumped down on the grass, tears welling up in his eyes and laughing.

"Thank you, Buster," he said, full of relief and joy. "Thank you very much."

"Don't worry too much, young prince." Buster continued in her warm voice, "Good news will always be waiting for us ahead."

This is true.

However, this did not eliminate all his doubts.

"And what about the title of Black Panther?" he asked. "Has anyone taken my place since I left? My father? My mother? Or Shuri?"

Buster emphasized his last name, as if to tell him that the answer lay within.

"Your sister Shuri has bravely taken on the responsibility since you left suddenly." Buster said slowly, "Although she encountered many difficulties and started late in becoming the new Black Panther. But you must understand that every challenge she experienced is part of her growth."

"She tried to take over your responsibility," Buster continued. "She only mastered some of the skills, but her efforts and determination should not be underestimated. However, the title of Black Panther is not easy to take over." Buster's words revealed deep wisdom. "Her power comes from her heart, not just from her body and soul. Although Shuri has her own uniqueness, she is not you, Prince T'Challa after all."

In this ancestral plane of the universe, each character has his own unique mission and responsibility. T'Challa is fully aware of the responsibility he shoulders, and at the same time he is relieved for the safety of his family and the growth of his sister. Although the road ahead is long, he believes that under the guidance of Bast, everything will move towards light. She, like a temporary mark, quietly waits for your return. T'Challa took a deep breath, her heart filled with heaviness and worry, she knew that she would take on the great responsibility of protection and symbolism.

"What would happen if I didn't take on this responsibility?" he asked himself.

Bast, the ancient god, finally sighed. "But since you have chosen to move forward, I have to tell you that in the worst case scenario, she will have to maintain the stability of the throne in many ways. At least, the members of the Avengers on Earth will give her support."

When T'Challa heard the word "Avengers", he couldn't help but be surprised. He never thought that Buster knew about this mortal organization.

"Wait," he suddenly interrupted, "Are you saying that my sister has joined the Avengers who are still on Earth?"

Bastet nodded, "Yes. She sought their help in her quest to find you, and eventually joined them."

Upon hearing the news, T'Challa's brothers and sisters let out a complex laugh. "She's always like this, always so reckless." One of them said.

"We also have our 'Avengers' in the family." Buster said to him with a smile, "As for your parents, they pray every day for your safe return, while also working hard to maintain the stability of the country."

A strong feeling of homesickness surged in T'Challa's heart. He missed his hometown and the people there deeply. "How I wish I could go back soon." He whispered.

Buster looked up into the distance, her eyes full of wisdom and compassion. "You have come a long way, little panther. Far farther than any other black panther ever has. You have set a new precedent in history." She paused, then continued, "The next time your father steps foot into this field, I will tell him that you are alive and well."

This news shocked T'Challa, but at the same time he felt a strange comfort, knowing that his father would protect his family at all costs.

"But, Prince T'Challa, we still have to remind you." Buster's voice was full of seriousness and concern.

He stared at her, and that was his only reaction, until he felt his body tilt backwards, as if falling into an endless void.

"Be careful, little one. This realm is full of unknown dangers and unfathomable mysteries. It's best to avoid touching things you don't understand." Buster's warning echoed in his ears.