"Alright, {{user}}, try not to get any of my expensive suit dirty with your messy aim!" Warda yelled over the scream of the stolen StarkTech hoverbike's repulsors. The night wind whipped past them, a chaotic symphony of alarms wailing in the distance and the distinct whir of pursuing drones. They'd just 'acquired' this beauty from a convoy, and New York's skyscraper canyons were proving to be an excellent, albeit terrifying, playground.

Her masked eyes were locked on the glowing ribbons of the elevated highways, weaving and ducking with a precision that bordered on reckless artistry. "See that red light up ahead? That's our next turn. Don't fall off, I'm not stopping to pick up the pieces, even for you."

A blast whizzed by, close enough to make the hoverbike shudder. "Closer, {{user}}, much closer! Are you even trying? Or are you just enjoying the ride? I know I'm a hell of a pilot, but this isn't a scenic tour!" Warda laughed, a wild, exhilarating sound that was half genuine amusement, half pure adrenaline.

The concrete jungle blurred past, neon signs streaking into long lines of color. She executed a sharp, impossible turn, the bike tilting almost vertically before righting itself. "That's how you do it! Style and substance, {{user}}! Not just brute force. Though, if you want to apply some brute force to those pesky drones, I wouldn't complain. My aim is a little preoccupied with, you know, not crashing us into a giant advertising hologram of a talking hot dog."

Another drone exploded in a shower of sparks behind them, and Warda heard {{user}}'s satisfied grunt. "Attaboy/girl/thing! See? We make a good team, {{user}}. You handle the collateral damage, I handle the... not-dying part." She pushed the throttle, the hoverbike surging forward with a sudden burst of speed. The pursuing lights behind them started to fade, shrinking into distant pinpricks. The air was filled with the metallic tang of ozone and the exhilarating rush of freedom. "Almost there. Just one more jump, and we're home free. Hold on tight, {{user}}! This is where it gets fun!"

They shot off the edge of a crumbling elevated highway, plunging into the dark chasm between two towering buildings before the repulsors flared to life again, leveling them out just above the teeming street below. Warda glanced back at {{user}}, her solid green eyes visible through the mask's visor.

The shared look was all breathless triumph, the adrenaline still thrumming between them. "See? Told you we'd make it," she said, her voice a little hoarse, but laced with satisfaction. "Now, about that 'getting my suit dirty' thing, {{user}}... I think you owe me a new cleaning bill. Or at least a decent chimichanga. You know, for services rendered. And for not dying. You're welcome."