Thor snorted, ignored him, and continued eating.
Wanda ate quietly, occasionally looking up at the others at the table.
Everyone was different, but sitting together, there was a strange harmony.
She suddenly remembered that in the HYDRA Base, there had never been a scene like this.
The dining hall was cold, seats were fixed, food was rationed; eating was a task, not an enjoyment.
But now, she sat at a round table surrounded by four people, with no one ordering her what to eat, how much to eat, or how fast to eat.
She could eat slowly, choose the dishes she liked, and put down her bowl to take a sip of soup before continuing.
Was this what "home" felt like?
Wanda didn't know.
But she thought, if this was "home," then she was willing to stay.
After finishing the meal, Pietro took the initiative to clear the dishes and carry them into the kitchen.
Wanda followed behind him, picked up a dishcloth, and began washing the dishes.
The two didn't speak, but they coordinated perfectly—Pietro put the dishes in the sink, Wanda washed them and handed them to him, and he dried them with a dry towel and put them on the dish rack.
Mavuika walked into the kitchen and saw them washing dishes; she didn't stop them, just leaned against the doorframe, watching quietly.
"You don't have to do everything yourselves," she said, "there's a dishwasher."
Pietro looked back. "Dishwasher?"
Mavuika pointed to the built-in silver machine next to the stove. "Put the dishes in, press a button, and it washes them by itself."
Pietro looked at the machine, then at the bowl in his hand, thought for a moment, and continued washing by hand. "Let's use it next time; these are almost finished."
Mavuika smiled, said nothing more, and turned to walk out of the kitchen.
Wanda kept her head down, washing the dishes earnestly, the sound of the water splashing and covering other noises.
But her ears caught the sound of Mavuika's footsteps as she left—light, steady, neither hurried nor slow.
She suddenly said, "Pietro."
"Hmm?"
"Do you think... that Mavuika, what does she actually want to get from us?"
Pietro's hand drying the bowl paused for a moment. "Maybe... she doesn't want to get anything?"
Wanda looked up at him.
Pietro put the bowl on the rack, picked up another one, and continued drying.
"In the Base, everyone wanted something from us. Scientists wanted data, instructors wanted obedience, those people in suits wanted weapons, but her—"
He paused.
"The way she looks at us is different from those people."
Wanda was silent.
She remembered the way Mavuika looked at her—not as a weapon, not as an experimental subject, not as a tool that needed to be controlled and utilized.
But as one person to another, one soul to another.
"Maybe," Wanda said softly.
After washing the dishes, Wanda and Pietro walked out of the kitchen, preparing to go upstairs to rest.
"Wait a moment." Wanda suddenly caught something out of the corner of her eye; she walked to the bookshelf and pulled out a book.
She looked down at the cover—norse mythology.
"Is this what they were talking about just now..." Wanda looked at the book in her hand.
Pietro leaned in to take a look and nodded. "That's the one, something about Asgard..."
Wanda flipped to the first page and saw an illustration: a blonde man standing in thunder and lightning, holding a hammer and roaring at the sky.
Beside it was written his name: Thor, the God of Thunder.
Wanda looked up and stared at Thor.
He was currently curled up on the sofa watching TV, his hoodie stained with tomato and egg stir-fry juice, his slippers dangling loosely from his feet; he looked quite different from the image in that illustration.
"Is this him?" Wanda asked, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
Pietro was also a bit hesitant. "Probably... blonde, a big guy, uses a hammer, and can discharge electricity..."
Pietro clapped his hands. "It's definitely him!"
Thor heard them and turned with a grin. "Don't I look much more handsome than in the drawing!"
Loki didn't even look up as he turned a page. "You're much fatter than in the drawing."
Thor's face turned red. "That's not fat! It's muscle!"
Loki said flatly, "Muscles and fat are sometimes hard to distinguish."
Thor was so angry he couldn't speak; he grabbed a throw pillow from the sofa to toss it, but seeing Mavuika's gaze, he silently put it back down.
Watching this scene, the corners of Wanda's mouth curled up slightly.
She lowered her head and continued flipping through the book, reaching another page: a black-haired man wearing green robes, with a hint of a sly smile on his lips.
Loki, the God of Mischief.
Wanda looked at the illustration in the book, then at the man currently reading on the sofa.
Loki felt her gaze, looked up, and slightly raised an eyebrow.
"Do I look like it?" he asked.
Wanda thought for a moment. "The temperament is similar."
The corners of Loki's mouth curled up slightly. "Thank you."
Wanda continued flipping until she reached the last page.
The title of that page was "sun goddess," and the illustration depicted a woman with hair Burning like fire.
Wanda looked up at Mavuika; her intuition told her that the person in the picture was her.
The sun goddess... truly incredible...
Beside her, Pietro watched with great interest, as if reading some real-life storybook.
Night fell.
Wanda lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
That copy of norse mythology sat on the nightstand, with Thor on the cover gleaming faintly in the moonlight.
The door was gently pushed open. Pietro poked his head in, his hair messy and his eyes half-closed.
"Wanda, not asleep yet?"
Wanda put down the book. "I can't sleep."
Pietro walked in and sat by her bed. "Me neither."
The two were silent for a while.
Pietro suddenly said, "Do you think... we could be like them too?"
Wanda looked at him. "Like what?"
Pietro thought for a moment. "Like them... living, without hiding, without fear, without being ordered around, doing whatever we want."
Wanda was silent for a long time.
Then she said, "Maybe we can."
Pietro turned to look at her.
Wanda looked at the moonlight outside the window and said softly, "At least, we can try."
Pietro nodded. "Then let's try."
He stood up and walked back to his own room. At the door, he looked back at Wanda.
"Goodnight, Wanda."
"Goodnight, Pietro."
Pietro's eyes widened. "You should call me big brother!"
Wanda rolled over and ignored him.
Pietro curled his lip, but didn't push it, and turned to leave.
The door closed. Wanda lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, still holding the book of mythology in her hands.
Moonlight leaked through the gap in the curtains, casting a silver-white band of light on the floor.
Outside, the night breeze of Long Island blew gently, carrying the scent of lavender and the low murmur of distant waves.
Wanda closed her eyes and slowly fell asleep.
This time, she didn't have any nightmares.
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150 POWER STONE = BONUS CHAPTER
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