Sorcerer Supreme in American Comics

Is it an illusion?

Reflected in his own eyes, two armies were locked in a life-or-death struggle upon a verdant meadow. The thunderous cries of battle seemed to be muffled behind a shimmering blue energy barrier. Yet, the instant he tried to draw closer to see and hear more clearly, a deafening wave of sound crashed over him like a tide, battering the eardrums and soul of a young man named Meimu.

A terrifying horde of monsters swept across half the land—countless alien creatures, each with six powerful arms and a strange, eight-limbed crawl. Their numbers were in the thousands, tens of thousands, and more poured forth without end. Across such a vast expanse, their front stretched for kilometers. They hurled themselves madly against the blue energy shield, crowding together until no space remained, and even when those at the forefront were scorched and slain by the energy barrier, they continued to surge forward in relentless waves, striving to tear through the shield and slaughter the humans arrayed behind it—their enemies.

At first, Meimu did not recognize them. Only when he narrowed his eyes in confusion at the chaotic banners, at the figures dressed like African elders who, with their vibrant robes raised, conjured intricate blue energy shields, did Meimu, startled, realize who they were.

In that instant, his expression changed.

They were the Wakandan legions from the Marvel world—a nation rooted in the most ancient African traditions, yet, by virtue of their mysterious metal vibranium, possessed technology far surpassing Earth's ave