Morning light filtered through the branches and leaves of the old scholar tree in the garden, casting dappled shadows on the flagstone path.
Lavender spikes swayed gently in the breeze, purple waves extending from the iron gate all the way to the steps of the Villa.
A few bees buzzed busily among the rosemary bushes, emitting a low hum.
Wanda sat on the steps, holding a cup of hot tea, watching the woman watering the garden.
She wore a long linen dress, her gold-red hair loosely tied back, her bare feet stepping on the flagstones. The watering can tilted slightly in her hand, clear droplets falling like fine rain onto the sage leaves, refracting tiny rainbows in the morning light.
Wanda had lived here for a full month.
A month ago, she had stood on these steps, her whole body tense like a fully drawn bow.
Her gaze would sweep across every corner, her ears would catch every subtle sound, and her fingers were always ready to release Chaos Magic.
She didn't trust this place, she didn't trust these people, and she didn't trust this place that seemed far too wonderful.
But now, she sat here, holding her teacup, watching Mavuika water the flowers, without that sense of urgency of being ready for battle at any moment.
It wasn't because she had let down her guard, but because she had discovered that there was truly no need for vigilance here.
No one would suddenly push open the door and command her in a cold tone to "Go to the Training Grounds."
No one would strap her to a chair and inject unknown fluids into her veins.
No one would look at her with eyes that saw a weapon, a tool, or an experimental subject.
Here, she was just Wanda.
Pietro walked out of the house, carrying a plate of freshly cut fruit.
He sat down next to Wanda, placed the plate on the steps between them, took a piece of Apple, and took a bite.
"Wanda, guess how far I ran this morning?"
Wanda glanced at him. "How far?"
Pietro grinned. "From Long Island to Manhattan and back. It took less than twenty minutes."
Wanda raised an eyebrow. "You didn't hit anyone, did you?"
Pietro rolled his eyes. "I'm fast, not blind. I dodged everything I needed to."
Thor's voice came from inside the house, tinged with curiosity. "You ran to Manhattan? What for?"
He walked out, wearing a dark gray T-shirt and black sweatpants, holding a cup of coffee. His hair was still a bit damp, clearly having just showered.
The sunlight shone on his golden hair, giving it a warm glow.
Pietro thought for a moment. "Just for a look around. There are many tall buildings, many cars, many people, and a park—it's huge, with a lake and ducks on it."
Thor's eyes lit up. "Central Park! I've been there! The ducks there are very interesting. If you feed them bread, they'll follow you."
The corners of Pietro's mouth curled up slightly. "I'll try that next time."
Loki walked out of the house, wearing a dark green shirt and black trousers, holding a book. He sat down on a garden bench, crossed his legs, opened the book, and said without looking up.
"You run that fast, aren't you afraid of being photographed?"
Pietro shrugged: "I'm not afraid even if I am. They can't catch me."
The corners of Loki's mouth curled up slightly. "Confidence is a good thing, but overconfidence can easily lead to trouble."
Pietro looked at him, wanting to retort, but found that this God of Mischief seemed to be right about everything.
He huffed, took another piece of Apple, and took a large bite.
During this month, Wanda and Pietro gradually grew accustomed to the pace of life here.
Waking up to sunlight and birdsong in the morning, instead of being jolted awake by piercing alarms.
Breakfast was made together—Mavuika cooked porridge or noodles, Thor was responsible for frying eggs, Loki made tea, Wanda cut fruit, and Pietro set the table.
In the morning, they did their own things: Mavuika watered flowers and read, Thor watched TV and practiced with his hammer, Loki drank tea and read, while Wanda and Pietro walked in the garden or ran in the nearby woods.
Lunch was simple, sometimes noodles, sometimes sandwiches.
The afternoon was even quieter; Mavuika would take a nap, Thor would watch a movie, Loki would play a game of chess, and Wanda and Pietro would sit in the garden, doing nothing but soaking up the Sun.
Dinner was the main meal; Mavuika would cook four dishes and a soup, and everyone would sit together, eating and chatting.
After dinner, Thor would hog the remote, Loki would read, Mavuika would make hot cocoa, and Wanda and Pietro would sit by the window watching the night view.
Such days repeated day after day.
But Wanda didn't feel bored. Because in the HYDRA Base, every day was the same—the same corridors, the same rooms, the same commands, the same fear.
But here was different. Every day here had subtle changes: a new flower bloomed in the garden, Thor learned a new piece of internet slang, Loki won another game of chess on his phone, and the hot cocoa Mavuika made had half a spoonful more sugar than yesterday.
These changes were so small they were hardly worth mentioning.
But it was precisely these trivial changes that made Wanda feel like she was truly alive.
Pietro felt the same way.
He found he was no longer constantly in a "standby" state, body leaning slightly forward, muscles tensed, ready to sprint at any moment.
Now, he could sit relaxedly on the steps, eat a piece of Apple, watch Mavuika water the flowers, and listen to Thor and Loki bickering, thinking of nothing at all.
This feeling was very strange; it took him a long time to adapt.
Over the course of the month, Wanda and Pietro's understanding of the three—Mavuika, Thor, and Loki—had also grown much deeper.
Thor seemed boisterous and careless, but he was actually very attentive.
He would notice if Wanda had eaten enough or if Pietro was wearing enough clothes.
When Wanda had nightmares, he would turn down the TV volume so she could hear that someone was outside.
He wouldn't knock on the door and ask "Are you okay?" because he knew that would only make her more nervous.
Loki seemed cold and aloof, but he would appear casually just when Wanda and Pietro needed him most.
Once, when Pietro was running in the garden and accidentally twisted his ankle, Loki walked out of the house, placed a bottle of ointment on the steps, said "Apply it yourself," and then turned and left.
Pietro stared at the bottle of ointment for a long time because he hadn't called out to anyone, and it was impossible for Loki to have seen him, as he had been inside reading.
Later, he realized that Loki had been keeping an eye on them all along, just in his own way.
Mavuika was the most inscrutable of the three to Wanda.
She rarely lectured them, rarely asked about their past, and rarely tried to "counsel" them.
She simply went about her own business—watering flowers, cooking, reading, drinking tea—and then, when they needed it, she would offer a cup of hot cocoa or a quiet smile.
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150 POWER STONE = BONUS CHAPTER
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