Chapter 94: Storm

[ Near Lake Turkana, At Kenyan Border, Africa ]

Daisy hadn't expected to run into a single soul out here, let alone a woman who could casually electrocute the entire pride of lions currently growling around her ankles.

"Miss Ororo Munroe?" she called out, raising her voice just enough to carry over the low rumble of the thunder. The black woman standing some distance from her gave her a sharp glance.

Daisy had seen her file—X-Men, codename Storm. Registered in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database with a red warning tag that screamed Do Not Engage In Thunderstorms. And yet here she was, in Kenya of all places, boss-fighting a male lion like it was a casual Tuesday.

The lion, perhaps sensing a strange alliance blooming, gave Daisy a guttural roar of encouragement—a sound that was quickly echoed by the lioness, who prowled in from the side like she had opinions. And as if on cue, a small, scruffy cub tumbled out from the den, squeaking his version of a war cry.

Storm didn't flinch. She stared down at the trio of felines, then at Daisy, mildly baffled by the entire scene. Getting called out by a random traveler in the middle of nowhere had clearly not been on her forecast.

"Who are you?" Storm asked, her voice tinged with caution.

Daisy, in her usual grace, raised her hands to show she was unarmed—well, physically. "I spoke to Professor Charles. I'm with the government. Name Daisy Johnson."

The way she said it was casual, but she knew that she talk with Professor X on just a phone call and even with the Kunlun Elder Ring, to be honest, she still didn't want to meet this professor. Still, it was better than saying, Hi, I may or may not be illegally sneaking toward Wakanda.

Storm narrowed her eyes. Mentioning Professor X might have relaxed lesser mutants, but not Ororo. There are many people who talk to Professor Charles on the phone, those who deliver food and sell insurance door-to-door. Can any one of them catch her lightning? Storm doesn't believe it.

"Government, huh?" she said slowly, eyes still crackling faintly with static.

There was no open hostility now, just a quiet suspicion.

She was just a passing from here and just happen to see a lion growling at the young woman and she thought that woman was going to attacked by a male lion, so she summoned Thunder to help. Now it seemed that they were quite close. It was obviously a misunderstanding on her part.

The lions, on the other hand, had completely flipped allegiances. The big male flopped down beside Daisy like she was his new queen. The lioness gave Storm a mildly offended growl. Even the cub decided to perch by Daisy's boot and nuzzle her leg.

Apparently, surviving a lightning bolt together built friendships.

Storm, with a sigh and a dignified swoop of her cape, nodded once and soared away, disappearing into the cloud line.

Daisy smirked. That went well. Sort of. Maybe. Probably not.

She knew Storm's appearance wasn't just coincidence. The Monroe bloodline had deep roots in Kenyan magic, steeped in centuries of witchcraft and weather control. Storm wasn't just a mutant—she was a sorceress born of legacy, a fusion of ancient blood magic and elemental power that made her a walking hurricane with style.

Of course she'd return to Kenya now and then. Nothing like showing off to the ancestors and casually helping refugees while you're at it.

The lion, now awkwardly brushing against her side, grumbled when she raised her phone. "Chill. It's a camera, not a weapon," Daisy muttered. He still looked offended but tolerated the photo. The resulting selfie featured Daisy smirking with the whole lion family looking like they were being forced into school pictures.

Hill's going to raise an eyebrow at this, she thought smugly. Too bad. I'm framing it.

That night, the skies opened up in a torrential downpour. Daisy slept under the shelter of an cave, raindrops drumming like warbeats on the leaves of nearby trees. When morning arrived, the clouds had vanished, and so had any comfort.

She had a job to do.

The lion family gave her a proper farewell. The further north they went, the closer they crept to Wakandan territory—and the more restless the lions became. Something primal warned them off. The Panther God, maybe.

Daisy gave each of them a gentle pat, but when it came time to say goodbye to the cub, she paused.

He blinked up at her with that big-eyed, dopey expression only baby predators could get away with. Fluffy, adorable, utterly useless in a fight—and now tugging at something soft she usually kept under heavy lock.

"You're lucky I have a mission," she told him, tapping his nose. "Otherwise I'd be teaching you to sit and fetch by sundown."

After a successful goat hunt and a hearty breakfast with the honorary cat clan, Daisy set off north. Alone.

Or so she thought.

Less than a mile in, a familiar cape fluttered in the breeze. Storm was perched on a rock like she was posing for a Vogue cover: windswept hair, crossed arms, righteous judgment.

"Where are you going? There are wild beasts in the north."

Yes, and I'm probably about to meet their god, Daisy thought dryly.

Her original plan had been to track some not-so-innocent parties into Wakanda under the pretense of investigation. But Storm's unexpected drop-in had forced her to adapt. And fast.

She gave the woman her best casual smile. "Tracking mission."

Storm didn't buy it. She knew something was off. Her presence here, the route Daisy was taking, none of it added up. The weather witch had been waiting on that rock for hours, probably weighing whether to lecture Daisy or electrocute her.

If it were just a simple Kenyan, it would definitely be "You are not welcome here, go home."

But in Daisy's case, she has to consider the political influence. After asking Professor Charles about Daisy, she now knows that S.H.I.E.L.D. is behind Daisy, which makes Storm very wary.

Daisy knew that Storm should know the entrance to Wakanda. She and T'Challa—Black Panther himself—had been childhood sweethearts. Their breakup during the superhero civil war was so dramatic it probably deserved its own soap opera.

But Daisy didn't need Storm's heartbreak. She needed her map.

If anyone could waltz into Wakanda without setting off alarms, it was her. Daisy just needed to maneuver this right.

"I… I don't want to interfere," Storm began, diplomatic but guarded. "The tribes have ancient customs. If you violate them, there might be consequences."

Without a word, Daisy slid her SHIELD ID out and held it up.

Level Seven.

Storm blinked.

Yeah, not your average tourist.

"I respect what Professor Charles has done to bridge gaps between mutants and ordinary people," Daisy said, voice cool and calm, "but I'm not here to play politics. I have a job. Move aside."

Storm winced. Not from insult, but from implication. She stared at the badge a beat longer, trying to decide whether she should call Charles or just keep flying. Then, realizing the weight behind Daisy's rank, she softened.

"I have some connections," she offered carefully. "If you need intel, I can help."

Daisy hesitated just long enough to be convincing. "Alright," she said at last. "But this stays between us."

Storm nodded eagerly, relieved. Clearly, she was hoping this wasn't a government ploy to invade Wakanda.

"We tracked a secret group," Daisy explained, letting just enough truth slip out. "They came through Kenya about ten days ago, heading north. We don't know what they're after, but it might be dangerous."

After hearing this explanation, Storm looked thoughtful now, even a little tense. Not because she didn't believe Daisy—but because she did. She knew what kind of weaponry and secrets existed in Africa. She also knew what kind of trouble could follow them out into the world. But as long as it was not a conflict between countries, she thought she could intervene in the matter.

Storm was also secretly relieved. She really wanted to lead the way and change the route.

Daisy caught the change in her expression and decided not to push. She had what she needed: a reluctant ally with the keys to the kingdom.

"They think there are powerful weapons hidden here," Daisy shared some information with her, some true and false. "Because apparently, the entire African continent is a discount Bond villain vault."

Storm didn't laugh.

She couldn't.

Because that wasn't entirely false.

But as Daisy is a "outsider" here, she didn't know how to explain this. She had not even told Professor Charles about Wakanda.

And now she was walking side by side with a SHIELD agent who might be headed right into the storm—both literal and political.

To Be Continued...

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[POWER STONES AND REVIEWS PLS]