The turmoil of turning a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent into a sheep seemed to have left little trace on the daily life of the cabin.
At least on the surface.
It was another peaceful morning. The salty sea breeze passed through the half-open window, blowing the sheer curtains. Sunlight crawled slowly across the floor, gradually covering the entire tabletop from one corner of the dining table. A simple breakfast was laid out on the table: whole-wheat toast toasted just right with slightly charred edges, emitting the aroma of wheat; fried eggs, round and perfect, with the yolk trembling in the center; crispy bacon; and two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice, bright in color.
Minerva stood in front of the stove, turning off the heat. She had already removed the black eye patch she wore during combat, revealing that pair of calm blue optical sensors. She was wearing a loose light gray knit sweater and matching trousers today—both were Artoria's old clothes, slightly short on her, but they strangely softened the overly sharp aura she possessed. Wearing that slightly comical small-checkered apron around her waist, she used her heat-resistant gloved hands to carefully take the last slice of toast out of the toaster.
Her movements still carried that millimeter-precise accuracy, but her demeanor was relaxed. At least, it was the "at home" relaxation that Artoria was familiar with.
"Breakfast is ready, Artoria." Minerva put the toast into the bread basket and turned to look at Artoria, who was walking down from the second floor. She was now able to call her name quite naturally.
"Morning, Minerva." Artoria yawned, her long golden hair a bit messy, wearing comfortable cotton loungewear, stepping barefoot on the slightly cool wooden floor. She sat down at the dining table and took a deep breath: "Smells so good. Your cooking skills are improving rapidly."
"Based on data from the past 47 breakfast practices, I have adjusted the parameters." Minerva reported in a flat tone as she untied her apron and sat down opposite Artoria, but her optical sensors watched Artoria pick up the knife and fork softly, "The current finished product has reached the 'excellent family breakfast' standard recorded in the database. I am glad you like it."
"I love it." Artoria took a bite of the fried egg, squinting in satisfaction. She picked up the tablet next to her, habitually clicking on the news push, while naturally handing another slice of toast with jam to Minerva.
Minerva took it and ate it in small bites. She didn't need to eat, but Artoria wanted her to "eat together," believing it was part of daily family life. Minerva executed this earnestly, while recording and analyzing the chemical composition of every food item and the positive impact of "eating together as a family" on Artoria's emotional indicators. Data proved it was effective.
The news page scrolled. The aftershocks of Tony Stark closing the weapons manufacturing division were still ongoing. Flipping through a few pages, a low-key news brief caught Artoria's eye: "A mid-level Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. has applied for a one-month paid leave and wilderness retreat due to a sudden 'psychological stress regulation disorder'..."
Artoria and Minerva's eyes met briefly in the air. Minerva's optical sensors seemed to flicker slightly.
"'Wilderness retreat'?" The corners of Artoria's mouth curled up in an almost imperceptible arc.
"Sheep are omnivores, but mainly consume herbaceous plants. One month is enough for him to adapt to a new dietary structure." Minerva replied calmly.
Artoria chuckled and continued browsing. Breakfast ended in tranquility.
"Do you have any plans for today?" Minerva asked after cleaning up the tableware.
"Hmm..." Artoria thought for a moment, "The game update takes two hours. Then... how about we go to the city? Let's go to that Long Island shopping mall. I want to buy you some clothes that fit; it's not great to always wear my old clothes. By the way, we can stock up on daily necessities and fresh ingredients."
Minerva's optical sensors turned to Artoria: "Outing for shopping, understood. But 'buying clothes'... according to the database, this is a complex activity involving personal aesthetics and social interaction. My appearance design should prioritize practicality and concealment."
"Try different styles occasionally." Artoria laughed, "And your sensors can analyze fabric composition and tailoring quality, so we can shop efficiently. Besides," she winked, "I want to see what you look like in different clothes."
Minerva was silent for two seconds, seemingly processing the emotional logic and task priority contained in the sentence "I want to see what you look like in different clothes." "...Understood. If this is your expectation, I will cooperate. It is suggested to go out after ten in the morning when the mall crowd is relatively smaller. I will plan the route, transportation, and contingency plans in advance."
"I'll leave it all to you." Artoria stretched with a smile.
In the morning, she turned into Umaru and efficiently completed the game update. Minerva walked to the front of the house, where the matte silver Aston Martin DB11 was parked quietly in the morning light. She pressed her palm against the car door, the vehicle system completed the identity verification instantly, and the door slid open silently.
Driving? For Minerva, this couldn't even be called a "skill." On the way to Afghanistan to rescue Tony, she had already downloaded and mastered the traffic rules of all major countries in the world, the principles of vehicle control, and all performance parameters and operation interfaces of this Aston Martin via the vehicle's intelligent system in seconds. Her reaction speed was hundreds of times that of a human, her sensory system could process 360-degree blind-spot-free road information simultaneously, and her control precision could reach the millimeter level. To her, driving this car was simpler and more natural than a normal person using chopsticks.
She sat in the driver's seat, adjusting the seat and rearview mirror—although she didn't need them. The vehicle self-check was completed, and the engine emitted a low, smooth hum. She connected to the New York area's real-time traffic data network and planned the optimal route.
At ten-thirty, Artoria walked out of the cabin and saw Minerva already waiting in the driver's seat, raising her eyebrows slightly in surprise, then smiling.
"You can drive?"
"I have mastered the necessary skills. Please get in, Artoria." Minerva's voice came from the lowered car window.
Artoria got into the passenger seat and fastened her seatbelt. The vehicle started smoothly and drove onto the coastal highway. Minerva's driving style was as precise as a preset program: speed constant at the limit, lane changes smooth without hesitation, maintaining a perfect safe distance from the car in front, and reacting to every traffic light and road sign without a second's delay.
"The black SUV in the left lane has been following for 3.2 kilometers, but its behavioral pattern conforms to standard commuter vehicle characteristics; threat assessment is low. There is a construction section 1.5 kilometers ahead; the route has been re-planned." Minerva reported calmly, her eyes (sensors) steadily watching the road ahead while processing massive amounts of environmental data.
"Relax, Minerva, this is just a normal trip." Artoria laughed, watching the scenery flying by outside the window, feeling the vehicle's abnormal stability—it was almost like sitting in a stationary room.
"Safety is the primary principle." Minerva replied, but the vehicle seemed to adjust the suspension to be slightly softer by an almost imperceptible margin.
The Long Island shopping mall was one of the largest malls near New York. Minerva parked the car precisely in a corner of the underground garage, where the view was open, close to the exit, and far from pillars and other vehicles. After getting out, the two took the elevator directly to the first floor. The weekend mall was crowded with people, dazzling shops, bright lights, and noisy voices, a sharp contrast to the tranquility of the seaside cabin.
Artoria could feel that Minerva had instantly entered a higher state of alert. She seemed to walk half a step in front of Artoria casually, skillfully using her body to block most of the gaze from all directions, while her sensors scanned the environment at an extremely high frequency: crowd density, surveillance camera locations, emergency exits, potential threat individuals...
"Let's go to the supermarket to buy ingredients first, then to the clothing area." Artoria naturally took Minerva's arm. This action made Minerva's body stiffen for an almost imperceptible moment, but she immediately relaxed and adjusted her pace to synchronize with Artoria.
In the high-end supermarket, Minerva's "ingredient analysis" function showed its prowess again. Her fingertips swept quickly across the produce section, reporting in a low voice: "The nitrate content in this batch of spinach exceeds the standard, not recommended. The blueberries on the right have high anthocyanin content and are fresh from the origin. The color and elasticity of the salmon meet Grade A standards; it can be purchased." Their shopping cart was soon filled with the highest quality ingredients.
Then came daily necessities. Minerva's analysis of ingredients and materials made shopping extremely efficient. When choosing shampoo, she was even able to recommend the most suitable formula based on the data model of Artoria's hair quality.
Finally, it was the clothing area. Artoria pulled Minerva into a women's clothing store with minimalist design and exquisite fabrics. The shop assistant greeted them enthusiastically, looking at these two guests with outstanding appearance and temperament in amazement.
"What styles do you want to try?" Artoria excitedly picked up a dark blue long trench coat with clean tailoring and held it against Minerva.
She knew Minerva's body data by heart and quickly picked out several sets of clothes in different styles: a beige knit set suitable for daily wear, a casual shirt and jeans combination, a slightly more formal charcoal gray suit, and a simple black dress.
"Please try them on." Artoria handed the clothes to Minerva.
Minerva held the clothes, seeming a bit at a loss. Her database had countless materials on tactical gear and uniforms, but she lacked direct experience with the "fitting process" of such pure "lifestyle clothing."
"The fitting room is over there, I'll accompany you." Artoria smiled and pushed her over.
In the spacious fitting room, Minerva changed into the beige knit set with somewhat clumsy movements. The soft cashmere material clung to her body curves, the cut was fitting, and the color was soft. She stood in front of the mirror, her optical sensors calmly observing herself in the mirror.
"It suits you very well, you look much gentler." Artoria stood behind her and helped her adjust the collar.
"...The material is comfortable, movement is not restricted, and the color concealment is acceptable." Minerva commented objectively, but the time her gaze lingered in the mirror seemed to be a fraction of a second longer than usual.
Next was the shirt and jeans. The light blue striped shirt paired with dark slim jeans outlined her long, straight legs, looking refreshing and neat.
"This set is very suitable for going out." Artoria nodded.
The charcoal gray suit made Minerva look a bit more capable and elite. Finally, there was the black dress, with its simple design and good drape, fully displaying her beautiful figure. Coupled with her silver-white long hair and cold temperament, it actually had a breathtaking sense of beauty.
Artoria looked at Minerva, who had changed back into her own clothes and was meticulously folding the clothes she had tried on, her movements as standard as if she were organizing gear.
"Buy them all." Artoria said to the shop assistant.
"Artoria, this does not meet the efficiency principle of material procurement. My basic combat uniform and daily casual wear are sufficient." Minerva tried to stop her.
"But I want to buy them for you." Artoria insisted, swiping her card to pay, "Family members giving gifts to each other does not require efficiency principles."
Minerva silently took the several exquisite shopping bags, her optical sensors looking at Artoria, seemingly performing complex emotional logic analysis. "...Thank you. I will use these clothes properly."
The shopping ended, and they drove back. Minerva's driving was as smooth as before, even adjusting the suspension parameters because there were many items in the trunk. When they returned to the cabin, it was already afternoon. After putting away the purchased items, Artoria leaned lazily on the sofa, while Minerva began to process the ingredients to prepare a simple dinner.
At night, the bathroom was misty with steam. Artoria finished her shower and walked out wrapped in a bathrobe, her wet long golden hair draped over her shoulders. Minerva was already waiting in the bedroom with a hair dryer and comb.
"Please sit." Minerva pointed to the chair in front of the vanity.
Artoria sat down and saw Minerva standing behind her in the mirror, turning on the hair dryer to a suitable temperature and wind speed. The warm airflow brushed through her hair, and Minerva's fingers wove through her long hair, her movements gentle and precise. Every strand of hair was evenly blown, neither too hot nor leaving any damp dead spots.
"According to research, not drying hair completely before sleep may lead to increased risks of headaches and colds, and affect sleep quality." Minerva said calmly while operating, as if executing an important maintenance procedure, "Therefore, ensuring your hair is completely dry before bedtime is an important part of health management."
Artoria closed her eyes comfortably, feeling the gentle combing of fingertips and the soothing warmth. "Minerva, you even learned this..."
"A result of data collection and analysis. Taking care of your daily life is part of the core protocol." Minerva replied. The sound of the hair dryer buzzed in the quiet bedroom, yet it made people feel at ease.
After the hair was dried, Minerva carefully combed it smooth with a comb and then put down the tools. "Done. You can prepare to go to sleep now."
Artoria stood up, changed into pajamas, and got into bed. Minerva walked into the bathroom, and soon there was a very slight sound of running water—she was performing a quick cleaning procedure. A few minutes later, she also changed into comfortable home clothes and walked over.
She didn't go to the carpet beside the bed but very naturally lifted the other side of the quilt, lay down, turned on her side, and extended her arm.
Artoria was already used to this sleep routine. She naturally leaned into that warm, soft embrace with a constant comfortable temperature, finding the most comfortable position. Minerva's arm gently wrapped around her, her palm rhythmically patting her back.
"Based on sleep monitoring data from the past fifteen days, in this mode, your sleep onset time has shortened by an average of 42%, deep sleep duration has increased by 28%, and the number of nighttime awakenings has dropped to zero." Minerva's voice sounded in the darkness, steady and reassuring, "To ensure your long-term health and sleep quality, from tonight on, this will be set as the standard bedtime routine. Do you have any objections?"
Artoria shook her head gently in her arms, the corners of her lips slightly raised: "No. It's very warm, very reassuring."
"Okay. Then, good night, Artoria."
"Good night, Minerva."
The night was deep, and the sound of the sea waves was as regular as a lullaby. In Minerva's constant-temperature embrace and steady "heartbeat" sound, Artoria quickly sank into a peaceful dream.
However, just as she was about to fall completely asleep, the phone screen on the nightstand lit up silently.
A text message from an encrypted number, the sender shown as "N.F."
Nick Fury.
The text message was very short:
"Ms. Artoria, regarding the'special situation' of Agent Wilson, we have received and understood. This matter ends here; there will be no follow-up. Also, it might be a bit 'lively' in New York recently. It is recommended that you and your family reduce nighttime outings if not necessary. Best wishes. — F"
The screen light dimmed, and the bedroom returned to darkness and tranquility.
Minerva's optical sensors glowed with a very faint blue light in the darkness. She "looked" at the direction of the phone, then looked down at Artoria, who was already fast asleep in her arms, her arm tightening slightly.
Lively?
In any case, the realm of protection cannot be violated. The night of peaceful sleep cannot be disturbed.
She adjusted the sensitivity of the monitoring system, expanded the alert range slightly, and then entered a low-power alert mode.
The night was still long. And the warmth of them snuggling together was enough to withstand any storms outside.
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