Kara walked through the glittering heart of Wakanda like she belonged there, even though every fiber of her presence screamed foreign. The sun caught the edge of her wide-brimmed white hat, casting a gleam over the tank top that clung tightly to her sculpted frame and the faded jean shorts that showed off long legs moving with casual confidence. The streets were alive with chatter, the hovercars hummed overhead, and the dome above shimmered like heat off silver glass. But Kara wasn't here to admire the scenery. She was here to steal it.
She strolled beneath a row of market awnings, eyes lazily drifting from drone displays to vibranium-threaded jewelry stalls, but her thoughts were focused on infrastructure. She observed how the energy dome refracted light at its seam edges, catching the momentary distortion as a flock of birds vanished past its camouflage field. "That dome is layered tech. Camouflage, shield, maybe even atmospheric control," she thought, tapping it all into her mind for future conquest. "One of those over the Empire of London? Yes, please."
Then she saw it—a sleek black hover bike parked at the edge of a side alley, its owner leaning against a nearby wall, exhaling a thin trail of smoke. He was young, relaxed, too distracted to notice what was walking his way. Kara's lips curled upward, not in a smirk, but in a calculated mimicry of gratitude. She made her approach.
"Excuse me," she said softly, her tone coated in melodic innocence. Her voice turned heads. The man looked up, stunned. He blinked as if unsure if she were real.
"Y-yes, miss?" he stammered, already lost.
She tilted her head, letting golden hair spill off her shoulder. "Would you mind driving your bike into that shaded alley for me? I just want to see it up close without the glare."
His answer didn't matter. He nodded, swung one leg over the bike, and guided it into the alley like a trained hound. Kara followed, boots clicking lightly on the stone as her eyes narrowed. As soon as the bike settled, she stepped forward, leaned in close as if to examine the engine housing, and whispered, "Thank you."
Then she slapped him. A single, fluid motion. Her hand cracked against his cheek with enough force to twist his neck violently. The body collapsed sideways onto the alley stones. Kara crouched, casually adjusting his collar to make him look like he was sleeping.
"Slap," she murmured, pulling her Elite Evil Apple iPhone from her side pouch. It gleamed with a chaos-threaded red logo that shimmered under shadow. "Grab. And run."
She tapped the screen. A direct call to Wanda Maximoff opened immediately.
"Yes, Kara?" Wanda's voice came clear and calm, even as a chaos gate began to swirl open beside her.
"Got a new toy. One of their hover bikes. Parked in a side alley, west sector. Need a pickup."
Wanda appeared through the partially opened portal, glancing first at the bike, then at the crumpled body.
"You killed that guy?"
Kara stood, flicking invisible dust from her shoulder. "Green Tea Bitch protocol. Slap, grab, and run."
Juggernauts emerged from the chaos gate, silent and armored, lifting the hover bike with mechanical efficiency. As they vanished through the swirling crimson portal, Wanda lingered a moment, her brow lifted.
"Why don't you just teleport the junk straight to the labs?" she asked.
Kara tilted her head, adjusting her sun hat like a diva in mid-photo shoot. "Because I'm on vacation," she replied. "And I'm too sexy to carry things."
Wanda's mouth twitched, caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement. "Fair enough," she muttered. "Have fun stealing tech."
And then she was gone, the portal sealed with a sound like unraveling silk. Kara glanced once at the alley entrance, the street beyond, then resumed walking.
The iPhone vanished into her back pocket. Inside its interface, encrypted relays transmitted live updates to Empire of London servers—coordinates, schematics, sensor logs. Everything about the bike would soon be dissected by their underground think tanks.
"We own Apple and Microsoft," Kara thought, eyes scanning a nearby stall of drone weaponry. "Half the world's phones already listen to us. Might as well steal the rest."
She passed by another kiosk, this one displaying Wakandan smart lenses—optics enhanced with vibranium-fiber overlays and augmented sensory filters. Her gaze lingered. Her fingers twitched with the urge to slap someone new.
A young woman behind the stall waved eagerly. "Tourist? You like? Very advanced, only released this month!"
Kara's eyes sparkled, but her expression remained smooth. "Maybe," she said, and wandered closer, already thinking of the next alley, the next distraction, the next moment where the city wouldn't even realize what it had lost.
Wakanda had built wonders. Kara intended to steal them all.
And back in the Empire of London, another war room lit up with red as new data funneled in. Hover-bike schematics, structural blueprints, AI control pathways. All captured in a single, flawless execution of her personal motto.
Slap. Grab. And run.
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