Chapter 93: Kenyan Grasslands

[ Near Lake Turkana, At Kenyan Border, Africa ]

Daisy left the rented jeep by the roadside like it was a disposable toothbrush. Someone would drive it away eventually—probably not the original owner, but that didn't concern her. She'd paid enough for that rust bucket to buy a new jeep here.

With nothing but a slim backpack slung over one shoulder, she looked out at the open expanse ahead. This wasn't Puerto Rico. She wasn't a desperate woman chasing whispers in the dark. She was stronger now, faster, sharper. Wakanda might be mysterious, but it wasn't dangerous—not for someone like her.

No humans in sight. Good. That meant she could run. Really run.

And she did.

Legs stretched like coiled springs, boots pounding the earth, her body a blur of black across golden plains. The air here was pure—earthy, sun-warmed, and free from the city's choking perfume of ambition and exhaust fumes. She ran with her hair streaming behind her like a banner of war, and for once, she wasn't thinking of Hill, Hydra, or anyone else. No plots. No missions. Just velocity and vibration.

Eventually, she slowed. Not because she was tired—please, she could run circles around cheetahs—but because she wanted to. The grass swayed around her, dancing to the rhythm of the wind. She could hear the far-off cry of birds, the whisper of leaves. Peaceful, in its own raw, untamed way. 

Gradually moving away from the human living areas and entering the range of wild beasts activities.

Even experienced hunters need to be fully armed and cautious when poaching here, but she just does it as if she were on a picnic, relaxed and comfortable, and there are no animals here that can pose a threat to her.

On the third day, most of her rations were gone. Not that she was worried.

A particularly dumb-looking wild goat wandered across her path like it was auditioning to be lunch. With a flick of her wrist, Daisy had the beast down. Out came the adamantium dagger—yes, the fancy one—and she made quick work of skinning and deboning. The meat sizzled over the fire, seasoned just right.

She was halfway through enjoying the first real meal she'd had in days when a flicker of movement caught her eye.

She blinked.

A lion.

Male. Broad-shouldered. Regal. Sunlight bounced off his light brown mane.

She often wears the White Tiger Amulet, and now she has developed some affection for cats.

"Well, well," Daisy murmured, chewing thoughtfully. "A royal audience."

The lion stared back at her with what could only be described as disapproval. Maybe he smelled goat. Maybe he just didn't like her boots. Regardless, after a few seconds, he dropped his head and resumed napping.

Her fingers twitched.

Beat it, said a very stupid, very loud idea in her brain. She didn't admit that she was bored. She thought that the big tiger in the white tiger amulet was ready to provoke a fight between the lion and the tiger again.

She stood up, stretched, and walked straight toward the lion. He lifted his head slightly as she approached, his expression somewhere between confusion and insult. Before he could react, Daisy raised a hand and—BANG—sent a gentle shockwave that knocked him unconscious.

She grinned, strutted over, sat on his head like a jungle empress, and snapped a selfie. Sent it to Hill, of course. As expected: no reply.

"Rude," she sighed, sliding the phone away.

She didn't think much of it. Just a funny, feral moment.

Unfortunately, the lion community did not share her sense of humor.

Fifteen minutes later, she spotted them—three lions. Two adults, one cub. Coming in fast. Probably a disgruntled family reunion.

"Perfect," she muttered.

Seeing that the three lions were about to surround her, she rushed out from the side of the little lion without thinking.

Time to run.

Not jog. Not sprint. Run. Like a bullet dipped in caffeine.

She veered sharply and released her full speed—200 kilometers per hour. Faster than a Captain America with the help of vibration speed burst. The lions were left choking on her dust in seconds.

But apparently, Daddy Lion had decided that losing wasn't on the agenda today. He was determined to wash away the shame. He kept showing up like an unwanted sequel, occasionally appearing on ridgelines to glare dramatically at her before vanishing again.

Could she have set a trap? Yes. Could she have teleported in and out, taken him out permanently? Also yes. But... she kind of liked the company.

She told herself it wasn't loneliness. It was just—well—entertainment.

For five days, it continued. Chase. Pause. Ambush. Detour. The three lions gradually became familiar with her.

By day four, they all became hungry in pursuit of Daisy. The two big lions were fine, but the little cub was visibly thinner, its playful spark dimmed. Daisy, guilt mounting, tossed them a roasted lamb leg from her dwindling supplies. The parents hesitated, but hunger won.

Thunder rumbled on the sixth day. The air thickened with static.

Daisy's instincts flared as she had sensed something unusual in the air. She found a shallow cave and ducked inside as the heavens cracked open. Rain poured like it was trying to rewrite the shape of the land.

Peeking out, she saw the three lions soaked and miserable. She called out, waving.

"Little one can come in. You two stay outside! No offense, but I like my spine unbroken."

If the three lions attacked her together in the narrow cave, she would be in danger, but the little lion was no match for her.

She waved twice more, perhaps because the family of three was a little tired from being so far away from their own territory, or perhaps the beast instinctively felt that Daisy meant no harm.

The cub hesitated. Then, slowly, padded toward her.

Daisy backed up to give it space. "That's it, junior. No sudden moves. I've got snacks and shockwaves."

The parents stayed just outside, sulking. She threw another lamb leg their way. They accepted it, still suspicious.

Inside, Daisy focused on the cub. The cub didn't know why he was chasing her and probably thought he was playing a game. So, to become cub's friend, she adjusted her frequency, using a combination of her unique vibrations and meditation techniques. Soothing tones. Calming rhythm.

She didn't need the little lion to love her. Just not claw her throat out.

To her surprise, it worked. Slowly but surely, the cub began to relax and gradually eliminate any hostility he had.

During this week, she had learned some of the habits of animals, which were much simpler than humans. If she had been kind to them before, instead of attacking them and knocking them out, the relationship between them would not have turned out like this.

So yeah, animals were easy. No lies, no politics. Feed them. Don't zap them. Voilà—mutual respect. Daisy thought. Too bad people weren't this simple.

She looked at the lioness next. The mother was cautious, but less hostile. The father? Still bitter. He grumbled, eyes burning with that classic male ego: "She knocked me out in one hit and took a selfie. Unforgivable."

"Yeah, yeah," Daisy murmured. "Should've been faster."

That's when it hit.

The energy.

Her senses prickled. Something unnatural was building.

A split-second later, lightning—massive, deliberate—struck the ground near the male lion.

"Whoa!"

Daisy reacted instantly, raising both hands and forming a shockwave shield that splintered the second bolt mid-strike that was coming.

"Get in here!" she shouted.

The male lion's beast instinct made him give up his hatred. He quickly ran to Daisy with his lioness, while looking up at the sky.

The parent lions sprinted into the cave, huddling close, drenched and confused. Daisy backed up, scanning the sky. And only dropped the shield after the lions retreated into the cave safely.

Lightning struck with a loud bang where the male lion had stood before.

Daisy was on high alert, looking intently at the sky. The lightning had a target and direction, and was obviously man-made.

And then she saw her.

A black woman descended like a wrathful angel, wind curling around her. Silver-white hair whipped behind her, eyes glowing white, muscles coiled and sharp. She wore a tight white vest, black pants, and not a single shoe. Floating inches off the ground, she looked more goddess than mutant.

The woman didn't seem to expect to see a person with superpowers in such a desolate mountain.

The woman's feet finally touched earth. Her eyes dimmed to normal. She studied Daisy curiously, the air crackling around her with residual power.

To Be Continued...

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[POWER STONES AND REVIEWS, PRETTY PLEASE. EVEN LIONS WANT UPVOTES.]