[ Kenyan Grassland, At Kenyan Border, Africa ]
Juggernaut's brain was hardly a marvel of evolution, but it still retained just enough instinct for survival. Batroc, for all his bravado, was a seasoned mercenary. Neither of them harbored delusions of conquering Wakanda with fists and firepower. After the clash with the royal warriors and the elemental chaos unleashed by the women in the sky, they chose the wiser path: retreat.
Slipping through the dense edges of Wakanda's borders, they made their way into the Kenyan grasslands, following the original extraction route. But retreat didn't mean respite. Their mercenaries had dwindled after relentless skirmishes, and their ammunition dipped below the danger line.
"Move, fast!" Batroc urged, voice strained but tinged with greed. "Once we're out of this damn forest and communications come back, we sell what we saw. We'll be rich, even if half of us are corpses!"
But just as his words left his mouth, a voice called down from above the treetops. "Where do you think you're going?"
The mercenaries froze.
From above, the Black Panther descended — silent, deadly, armored in vibranium and rage from Wakandan stealth plane. Behind him, two women cut across the sky like myth incarnate: Storm, reborn and radiant, and Daisy, her silhouette trailing gravitational ripples like a dark comet.
Before the heart-shaped herb had enhanced her, Daisy had already learned how to cheat gravity.
In the world, gravity was one of the four fundamental forces of the universe — strong force, weak force, electromagnetism, and gravity. The first three were complex, invisible, and barely tangible. But gravity? That one she understood.
She didn't need to build wings or pilot a jet. With fine-tuned vibrations, she altered the curvature of space beneath her, simulating gravitational pulls that let her float — no, fly — with increasing mastery. The stronger the vibration, the more energy it produced—and the faster her flight.
Back then, the effort left her aching. Now, post-herb, she flew like a blade dressed in elegance, sculpting space beneath her feet with every shift in vibration. It wasn't pretty — she wasn't Storm gliding through wind with shampoo-commercial grace — but it worked.
In the Marvel world, most flying heroes and villains had questionable techniques. Magneto floated on magnetic fields. Thor used his hammer. Storm manipulated the wind and apparently claimed she wore T-back panties to reduce wind resistance—something that left Daisy utterly baffled. And Daisy? She danced on tremors in space-time. Graceful in her own strange way.
...
[ Few Minutes Ago ]
In the stealth jet en route to the battlefield, T'Challa handed her a sleek vibranium wristband, its silver surface etched with a lifelike panther.
"A gift," he said. "For a friend of Wakanda."
Daisy rotated her wrist, feeling the faint resonance echo through the metal. It was nearly weightless, tuned to absorb and redirect energy. Useful, subtle... if not for the activation gesture, which required her to cross her arms like a certain Amazonian warrior princess. A fact she noted with a flat smirk.
"Really committing to the cosplay," she chuckled to herself.
She felt like she was drifting further down the path of becoming a Wonder Woman knockoff…
Of course, her wristbands were just a minor accessory. The gear T'Challa gave Storm was far more extravagant: a cloak woven entirely from vibranium. The cloak absorbed all kinds of kinetic energy. Conservatively, Ororo's flight speed was now at least 30% faster. It could store kinetic energy under normal conditions, and in emergencies—like facingJuggernaut—it could release stored energy to propel her without relying on wind.
Besides the cloak, T'Challa also gave Storm a pair of boots and undergarments—suspected to be vibranium-based—all under the justification of "enemy pursuit."
They are suspiciously well-fitted and unnecessary for a purely tactical gift. Daisy arched a brow at Storm's amused look.
"Are those vibranium panties?" Daisy deadpanned.
Storm rolled her eyes. "Tactical support, apparently."
"Right. Royal resources at work."
Ignoring the couple's thinly veiled flirting, Daisy focused on readiness. Storm might be a goddess of the skies, but close-quarters combat still wasn't her domain.
So Daisy armed herself accordingly: SH.I.E.L.D. armor, blade forged from Yashida's given adamantium alloy, unbreakable shield, reinforced boots and her daggers. To make it look more authentic, she even undid her ponytail, letting her hair fall freely over her shoulders, giving off a heroic and striking vibe. All she was missing was the lasso.
...
[ Present ]
The stealth jet descended. Black Panther dove into the fray with dramatic flair. Daisy and Storm followed, Storm flying in a smooth arc while Daisy's descent was… less poetic. Adamantium weighed a lot. She hit the ground with a seismic boom, cracks webbing out beneath her like a spider's nest.
Grace be damned. Grounded felt better anyway.
Ahead, Batroc was already engaged with T'Challa, both fighters moving in a blur of kicks and rapid counters. Batroc's mastery of global leg techniques gave him an edge, but T'Challa's vibranium suit and enhanced strength kept the fight at a tense stalemate.
The Dora Milaje stormed out of the jet behind them, shrieking war cries and attacking mercenaries in trios — their classic formation. Precision, synergy, ruthlessness.
The main fighters naturally shifted away from the battlefield's center, where the Juggernaut stood like an immovable mountain, completely still.
Storm, remembering last time, floated high — at least ten meters up. She began channeling power, mixing divine magic with mutant energy. No rain this time. Pure lightning. A turret of heavenly judgment.
A fierce, savage glint burned in Juggernaut's eyes. He spotted Daisy standing on the ground ahead—an enemy waiting for him. He couldn't decipher any schemes with what little intellect he had left. It didn't matter. Whatever the mission was, the enemy must be smashed. That was his only principle.
"RRRAAAAAAHHHH!"
With a roar that shook leaves from trees, he charged. Not at the soldiers. Not at Storm.
At Daisy.
Though Daisy held a shield, she had no intention of taking the blow head-on.
Dodging the direct assault, she raised the shield just enough to absorb the shockwave, then swung her sword low—aiming for Juggernaut's calf.
Both the sword and shield were forged from the rare alloy once wielded by the old devil Yashida—sharp enough to sever Wolverine's claws. For mortal hands, they were as lethal as weapons could be.
Her blade — capable of slicing adamantium — dug in deep as Juggernaut's calf split open with a thunderous crack, the wound gaping nearly thirty centimeters long and ten deep. But she didn't get far before the resistance became overwhelming. Muscle and enchanted magic pushed back. Daisy rolled out of the impact zone just in time.
He halted. Snarled. Turned.
The wound began to close.
Fast.
Daisy narrowed her eyes. This wasn't cellular regeneration. She'd seen Logan's before. No — this was Crimson Cosmos magic at play. The same universe that powered Juggernaut's indestructibility was now healing him like patchwork done by a god.
He charged again.
And this time, Storm unleashed her fury.
No more drizzle. No flashy clouds. Just concentrated, wrathful lightning. She had finally mastered how to bypass nature's pageantry.
Bolt after bolt slammed into Juggernaut, the sky itself hurling divine fury down on him.
He roared.
The earth shook.
And Daisy smiled — poised, unbothered, elegant as ever.
"Let's dance, big guy," she whispered.
To Be Continued...
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