Chapter 90: Good Times, Only Yesterday
The first rays of morning sunlight filtered through the curtain gaps, warming Mira's face.
She opened her eyes groggily. The first thing that came into focus was Purifier's sleeping face, inches away from her own.
The little menace was still tightly hugging her waist. She slept soundly, her head buried in the hollow of Mira's neck. Her long eyelashes rested against her cheeks like tiny fans, and a sweet, satisfied smile lingered on her lips.
Her high ponytail had come undone during the night. A mass of silver-white hair cascaded across the pillows like a soft cloud.
Mira shifted her weight, trying to pry the arm off her waist. The moment she moved, Purifier let out a quiet whine and squeezed her tighter. She clung to Mira like an octopus, mumbling incoherently.
"Boss... don't run away... let me sleep a little longer..."
"If you sleep any longer, I'll be late for work," Mira sighed helplessly. She ruffled Purifier's hair and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "If you don't get up right now, I'm not buying you strawberry cake today."
The threat worked instantly.
Purifier's eyes snapped open. Her golden pupils were still clouded with sleep, but she sat bolt upright and stared at Mira with a deadly serious expression. "No! The strawberry cake is mine!"
Seeing the frantic look on her face, Mira couldn't help but laugh. She reached over and pinched her cheek. "I know, I know. Hurry up and go wash your face. Compiler already made breakfast."
When the two of them emerged from the bedroom, Compiler had indeed set the table. The spread included golden sunny-side-up eggs, crispy toast, and warm milk. A small dish of strawberry jam—Purifier's recent obsession—sat neatly on the side.
"Morning, Compiler," Mira greeted her, pulling out a chair and sitting down.
"Morning, Mira." Compiler nodded. She slid a fresh cup of hot coffee across the table. A string of blue data flashed across her pale gold eyes. "The Stark Villa security system is nominal today. Jarvis is online and functioning at full capacity."
"Got it." Mira took a sip of her coffee, her tone casual. "I'm heading to Tony's place to clock in for my internship today. I'll probably be there until evening. You two behave and stay in the apartment. Don't run around causing trouble, and especially you, Purifier—do not sneak out and blow things up."
"Got it!" Purifier replied, her words muffled through a mouthful of toast. She raised a hand in a solemn vow. "I promise to be super good and wait here with Compiler! Don't forget my strawberry cake, Boss!"
"I won't forget." Mira smiled.
After finishing breakfast, she changed into a simple white t-shirt and jeans. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and waved at the two Sirens. "I'm heading out. See you tonight."
The moment the front door clicked shut, Purifier leaned across the table toward Compiler. Her eyes practically sparkled with expectation. "Hey, Builder, are we really just going to sit around all day? Why don't we sneak off to that amusement park the Boss mentioned?"
Compiler stared at her blankly. She picked up her tablet and pulled up last night's system log.
"According to the audio logs, you explicitly promised to behave. Furthermore, Mira ordered me to monitor your activities prior to her departure. I cannot authorize any unauthorized excursions."
Purifier went completely silent. "..."
She slumped over, dramatically throwing herself onto the sofa like a deflated balloon. Grabbing a bag of potato chips, she wore an expression of utter, soul-crushing despair.
—So much for our advanced magnetic energy tanks...
Meanwhile, Mira merged onto the highway, driving the silver sports car Tony had lent her. She sped down the coast and soon arrived at the massive Stark Villa situated on a private stretch of Long Island.
The heavy iron gates swung open automatically. Mira parked the car in the sprawling underground garage and headed upstairs.
The massive mansion was completely empty. It lacked any trace of human life. The only light came from the holographic projection screen hovering in the center of the living room, indicating that the AI was still online.
"Good morning, Miss Mira," Jarvis' gentle electronic voice echoed off the high ceilings.
"Morning, Jarvis." Mira tossed her backpack onto the pristine sofa and looked around suspiciously. "Where is Stark? Weren't we supposed to do my internship onboarding today? Why is the place deserted?"
"Mr. Stark flew to his Malibu residence in California yesterday afternoon to conduct final debugging on the new Arc Reactor," Jarvis replied smoothly. "Additionally, Mr. Stark is scheduled to fly to Monaco in two days to participate in the annual Historic Grand Prix."
"Damn capitalist," Mira muttered, rolling her eyes. "Running off to take a luxury vacation and leaving me here to do the actual labor."
She collapsed onto the sofa with a heavy sigh. "Did he at least leave me any assignments? If not, I'm just going to drive back home."
"He did, Miss Mira." A virtual folder expanded on Jarvis' main interface.
"Mr. Stark left three technical challenges for you to resolve: optimizing the thruster control algorithms for the Mark V prototype, and patching a targeting glitch in the auxiliary repulsor system. He stated that if you resolve them before the end of the day, he will double your internship salary for the month."
"Is that it?" Mira raised an eyebrow. Her posture instantly straightened.
Double the salary for basic coding. It would be a crime not to take his money.
She stood up and marched into Tony's private study. Booting up his primary workstation, she logged into the guest account Tony had set up for her.
Her fingers flew across the virtual keyboard in a blur. Lines of dense code scrolled across the monitors, and the completion progress bars surged forward.
Thruster optimization: finished in two hours. Auxiliary aiming bug: patched in ninety minutes. She deliberately throttled her typing speed to make it look realistic; otherwise, it would have been too obvious. Fixing Stark's code was like shooting fish in a barrel.
Mira glanced at the wall clock. The hour hand hovered right around twelve-thirty.
"Done." Mira stretched her arms over her head. She compiled and saved the final executable files. "Jarvis, run a diagnostic check. If everything is green, I'm going to slack off."
"Initiating diagnostic... Check complete." A few seconds later, Jarvis spoke up. Even his synthesized voice carried a faint trace of surprise. "All issues have been resolved perfectly. You have increased the code's operational reliability to 89 percent, which vastly exceeds Mr. Stark's initial expectations. Your technical proficiency is remarkable, Miss Mira."
"It's nothing," Mira smiled. She shut down Tony's workstation and pulled her own personal laptop from her backpack.
Since she had the rest of the afternoon free, she figured she might as well work on a passion project.
She booted her machine and loaded up a custom programming interface. A familiar loading screen flashed onto the monitor—Mental Omega.
It was a spontaneous idea she had hatched over the past few nights. She planned to single-handedly reconstruct the legendary Mental Omega mod from her past life, bringing the iconic Command & Conquer: Red Alert 2 expansion into the Marvel universe years ahead of schedule.
Mental Omega was just as famous as Rise of the Reds. She still vividly remembered the completely rewritten campaign, the introduction of the Foehn Revolt, and the unique, devastating sub-faction units.
"Jarvis, do me a favor," Mira said, eyes locked on her code. "I'm writing dialogue for two characters right now. Can you synthesize their voice lines for me? One is Libra from the Epsilon Headquarters, and the other is Yunru from the Foehn Revolt."
"Certainly, Miss Mira," Jarvis replied instantly. "Please provide the script text and baseline vocal parameters. I am capable of simulating any required vocal profile."
"Perfect." Mira's eyes lit up. Just as she was about to copy the script files, a soft beep chimed from the front door's security panel.
Footsteps echoed from the main entryway.
Mira looked up, confused. Who would be visiting the Stark Villa right now?
The footsteps grew louder as a man in a white lab coat carrying a black leather medical bag stepped into the doorway of the study. He looked to be in his late thirties. He had a gentle, unassuming face, though his eyes carried a heavy weariness.
It was Dr. Yinsen.
Ever since Tony and the mysterious white-haired girl rescued him from the Ten Rings cave in Afghanistan, Yinsen had accepted Tony's offer to work as his personal physician. He managed Tony's physical health and daily check-ups. Today, he was scheduled to perform routine maintenance on the villa's medical equipment and ensure Tony wasn't skipping his palladium toxicity treatments.
He expected to find the house empty except for Jarvis. He certainly did not expect to find a young girl with long silver hair sitting at the desk.
The moment Yinsen saw her face, his boots locked onto the floorboards. The medical bag slipped from his fingers, nearly crashing to the ground. His pupils shrank, and absolute shock washed over his gentle features.
It was her.
The terrifying entity who had slaughtered dozens of armed terrorists in that dark cave. The girl who had ripped them from the jaws of death.
It was the exact same silver-white hair. The exact same delicate, unaging face. Even those striking blue eyes, carrying that signature hint of lazy indifference, perfectly matched the phantom burned into his memories.
Yinsen's heart hammered against his ribs. His mind went entirely blank.
If it weren't for her, he and Tony would have been buried in the sands of Afghanistan months ago.
He never imagined he would see her again, let alone sitting casually in Tony Stark's private study.
The moment Mira saw Yinsen, she instantly realized the problem.
Without missing a beat, she pulled a flawless mask of slight surprise and polite confusion over her face. She stopped typing, stood up smoothly, and offered Yinsen a polite nod.
"Hello," she asked, her tone ringing with perfectly faked unfamiliarity. "May I ask who you are?"
Her voice was bright, clear, and undeniably sweet—the very picture of an innocent teenage girl. It was the complete opposite of the cold, mechanical, and ruthlessly efficient killer Yinsen remembered.
Yinsen snapped out of his daze. He stared into Mira's bright, clear eyes. There wasn't a single ripple of recognition or buried emotion.
His shock only deepened into profound confusion.
Could he actually have mistaken her for someone else?
But the face... the face was an exact, identical match.
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