Marvel: Starting from the Snap

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Turning his head, Luke glanced at Agent Karina in slight surprise. Seeing her serious expression, he furrowed his brow slightly.

It seemed that even S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't immune to the complexities of human ambition.

This world was filled with individuals driven by ambition. When Nick Fury and Maria Hill were in charge, they managed to suppress most of these tendencies. But now that they were gone, it wasn't surprising that some were beginning to test the waters.

However, Luke had no intention of becoming collateral damage in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s internal power struggles. While this situation might not escalate into a life-and-death confrontation akin to Hydra's takedown, the possibility of casualties could not be dismissed.

Sensing the unease in Luke's eyes, Karina sighed lightly, lowering her head with a bitter smile.

"It might be too early to share all this, but consider it a precaution. As a field agent, you must have noticed how the organization has changed compared to before."

"Yes," Luke nodded lightly, outwardly affirming her observation while inwardly clueless.

"The Wakandans don't trust us. When T'Challa was alive, things were easier—they respected their king. But now, with him gone, no one wants to provoke them during such a sensitive time."

Pausing briefly, Karina continued, "Your mission also involves easing relations with the Wakandans. This is delicate work, though. Handle it carefully to avoid making things worse."

"I understand. I'll do my best," Luke replied with a light nod.

He had mentally prepared himself for how challenging interacting with the Wakandans might be.

In the past, he recalled how the Wakandans, though courteous to heroes like Captain America in the movies, displayed a strong underlying pride. When first meeting Black Widow, Okoye, the leader of the Dora Milaje, was visibly confrontational. Later, during the *Falcon and the Winter Soldier* series, their demeanor was even more aloof.

This reflected the Wakandans' deeply ingrained sense of superiority, fostered by their isolation and technological supremacy. With their advanced technology and the protection of a deity, their pride wasn't baseless.

Bidding farewell to Karina, Luke boarded the Quinjet once again. His companion for this mission was Agent Bowes, who looked visibly exhausted, likely having been dispatched to numerous locations recently. Yet, he remained dutiful, perhaps using work to suppress the memories of his teammates vanishing during the Blip.

Taking the co-pilot seat again, Luke felt more relaxed than before. Whether due to the severe personnel shortage in S.H.I.E.L.D. or other reasons, he had successfully overcome the first hurdle.

Now, his destination was the Wakandan battlefield. His priorities were uncovering the mystery of the crimson text and establishing connections with key players in this world. If done well, even potential exposure wouldn't necessarily spell his doom.

As night fell and the sky darkened, Luke exhaled deeply and closed his eyes.

He had been in this world for a day. While no significant incidents had occurred, there had been no shortage of challenges. From the moment he answered that fateful phone call, Luke had been forced to play his role fully.

But this wasn't without its rewards. Traveling to Wakanda afforded him some distance from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s watchful eyes and gave him a semblance of autonomy.

In this aspect, S.H.I.E.L.D. was less restrictive than the military. As long as agents completed their tasks, the methods they employed were left to their discretion, and no one objected to private endeavors during missions.

Agent Bowes proved to be an excellent pilot—or perhaps the Quinjet was just inherently smooth to fly. Either way, Luke felt drowsy and drifted into a light, restless sleep during the journey.

When Bowes woke him, Luke opened his eyes groggily, only to realize the scenery outside had changed drastically. The Quinjet had landed.

"You looked like you needed rest, so I didn't want to wake you too soon. But I'm on a tight schedule—dropping you off here is just one of my tasks today. And, well, this *is* Wakandan territory," Bowes explained apologetically, scratching his head.

"Thanks, and sorry for the trouble," Luke replied, wiping the sweat from his forehead and clearing his hoarse throat.

"It's no trouble—it's work. But honestly, you've got the harder job ahead of you." Bowes grinned wearily, then quickly retrieved two items from a nearby box and handed them to Luke.

"Since you didn't bring your own gear, here's some standard-issue equipment. Even though the battle's over, it's better to have something for self-defense in case of surprises."

Luke's hand felt heavier as he looked down to see a pistol and a knife. The cold metal jolted him fully awake.

This was his first real contact with firearms in either of his lives.

Seeing his reaction, Bowes chuckled nervously, thinking Luke might have expected something better.

"Sorry, this is all I can give you. It's not like you can walk around Wakanda carrying a rifle, you know."

"You've misunderstood me. I wasn't expecting anything more. Thanks, Bowes." Luke smiled, fastening the pistol to his belt and sliding the knife into his boot.

"No need for thanks—we're on the same side."

Just then, Bowes spotted several Wakandan women gathering outside the jet, their regal presence unmistakable. His smile faltered slightly.

"It looks like your welcoming committee has arrived. Remember, dealing with them requires a delicate touch. Show restraint—it's better to be underestimated than overstep."

With those words, Luke took a deep breath and stepped off the jet, ready to face the Wakandans.

*(To Be Continued)*