Marvel: The Psychologist Who Stole Wanda and Gwen's Hearts!

As Gwen returned home, Mrs. Stacy came down the stairs with a mysterious look on her face.

"You still remember how to come back? I thought you were already married off."

"Mom!"

Hearing the word "married," Gwen couldn’t help feeling shy. That word felt both distant and yet very close to her.

"Where’s George?"

"He just got a call from the police station. They said there was a gang shooting on XX Street, so he went out on short notice."

Well, the father cleaning up after the daughter’s mess... No, that wasn’t right. How could this be called a mess? This was clearly her achievement—her father was just handling the aftermath.

Mrs. Stacy asked again.

"So, what do you need us for? You’re not planning to grab your papers and rush straight into marriage, are you?"

"No!"

Gwen was flustered by the question. She quickly pulled her mother into the bedroom.

"Tomorrow and the day after are holidays, right? And since I’m starting school soon, I was thinking of bringing Lorien over tomorrow for a family dinner. Is that okay?"

"Really?!" Mrs. Stacy covered her mouth in surprise. "Of course it is! I’ll tell George to take the day off, and we’ll prepare a big lunch ourselves!"

"That’s perfect!"

Gwen beamed, her heart light with relief at her mother’s enthusiasm and support.

The two quickly fell into conversation. And when women talk... it’s rarely serious. If anything, it’s more private than men’s talk.

Mrs. Stacy leaned closer and asked directly.

"Gwen, how is Lorien? Is he a good person? How does he treat you?"

"Of course he’s good, Mom." Sitting together on the bed, Gwen smiled. "Lorien has helped me so much. Without him, where would your daughter be today?"

"?"

Mrs. Stacy froze for a moment at such high praise, then narrowed her eyes as if ready to scold.

"So what you’re saying is, George and I didn’t raise you properly?"

"Wait, no, that’s not what I meant."

Gwen darted to the other side of the bed.

"I meant your education wasn’t bad, just... not quite in the right direction, that’s all."

Mrs. Stacy lowered her hand.

"Alright, that’s acceptable."

But her gaze soon shifted again, eyes full of meaning.

"And how’s Lorien’s health? I don’t want us missing out on grandchildren in the future."

At that, Gwen’s face turned scarlet. Her mind flicked to the doodle on her stomach, and her cheeks burned hotter. She could be bold with Lorien, but with anyone else—even her mother—she was far too embarrassed.

Mrs. Stacy noticed her reaction, took Gwen’s hand, and quietly gestured.

"How far?"

She motioned at her palm, her wrist, then near her forearm. Gwen only needed to respond with a gesture of her own.

After hesitating a moment, Gwen pointed closer to her elbow.

Girls’ hands weren’t that long, their fingers slender but short. Even so—that meant 5XL level.

"Ohhh~~~"

Mrs. Stacy’s mouth fell open in shock.

"Are you sure?"

Gwen nodded firmly.

Her mother’s eyes widened, her imagination running wild. She suddenly tapped Gwen’s stomach lightly and whispered,

"Does it reach here?"

"Mom!"

Gwen jumped, clutching her stomach and glaring at her in mortified outrage.

"Alright, alright, I won’t ask anymore."

"I’m going back to my room!"

Flustered by her mother’s boldness, Gwen rushed off to her own bedroom. Her heartbeat pounded loud in her ears.

It was normal, she told herself. This was her first relationship, and the first time her mother had ever asked her such daring questions. Most girls couldn’t handle it. Gwen certainly couldn’t—she was far too shy.

Her body even felt warm all over.

She looked at her small bed, threw herself onto it face-first, then rolled over to lie on her back, staring at the ceiling. She had only stayed at Lorien’s house for two days, but already, her own room felt different. Not unfamiliar, exactly—just... less important than Lorien’s place.

That was how it felt.

With her hands behind her head and her little feet pressed against the wall, Gwen thought about tomorrow. The excitement of bringing Lorien home made it impossible to sleep.

And after dinner, she absolutely had to bring him to this room. She wanted Lorien to see where she had grown up.

"Oh, right!"

She suddenly sat up.

"I need to tidy up first! What if Lorien thinks it’s messy tomorrow?"

At that thought, Gwen immediately jumped up and started cleaning. She folded her clothes, put away what she didn’t need, arranged the things she wanted on display neatly, and made sure the important ones were placed where they’d be noticed.

And so, Gwen spent the night eagerly preparing for tomorrow’s family dinner.

...

Meanwhile, on the other side.

After guiding Wanda through her training for a while, she lifted her head, her voice soft and tired.

"Lorien, I’m exhausted..."

Lorien stroked her hair.

"Just one last round."

"Alright."

...

Wanda was very obedient when it came to Lorien. As long as his requests weren’t excessive, she would accept them. Sometimes she even asked to push herself further on her own. That always made Lorien happy.

...

"Cough, cough~"

At last, after a few weak coughs, Wanda fell back onto the grass, taking deep breaths as she rested.

Lorien snapped his fingers.

Snap~

In an instant, everything around them was spotless again.

He stood, gazing at the starry sky and then at the land beneath his feet. The Little Universe was truly comfortable—the breeze gentle, the temperature perfect.

Thinking for a moment, Lorien suddenly suggested,

"Wanda, why don’t we sleep in the Little Universe tonight?"

Wanda didn’t reply with words, only let out a small hum.

"Mmm~"

That was enough. They would sleep here tonight.

Of course, they wouldn’t just lie on the ground. Lorien glanced around, then snapped his fingers again in the garden.

Snap~

A large wooden bowl-shaped bed appeared, like an oversized bird’s nest, with steps leading up to it. With another wave of his hand, a half-circular mattress fell neatly into place, followed by a thick, soft blanket.

Looking at the creation, Lorien clapped his hands in satisfaction.

Clap clap~~

Wanda tilted her head curiously.

"Is this... a bed?"

"Yes." Lorien nodded, slipped off his slippers, and climbed in.

The inside sloped gently at the head and hand area, about ten degrees. It wasn’t uncomfortable—quite the opposite. It felt perfectly supportive, like sinking into a lazy sofa.

Intrigued, Wanda crawled up as well. But she misjudged her strength, slipped the moment she climbed in, and rolled straight into Lorien’s side.

Covering her mouth quickly, she nearly let out a laugh. After settling down, she lay beside him, both of them gazing up at the stars.

The wooden nest-bed had no ceiling, and in the Little Universe there was no pollution or light interference.

Why was it that stars were invisible in cities but clear in the countryside?

First, because of how clean the atmosphere was.

Second, because of how much artificial light was around.

Each star was a sun in its own right, and their light traveled across countless light-years to reach Earth. By the time it arrived, it was faint. Too much city light would wash it away completely.

But in Lorien’s Little Universe, they could see nearly half of the Milky Way.

"How beautiful~"

Wanda nestled against Lorien’s side, both arms wrapped around his, her head resting on his shoulder.

"I told you." Lorien looked at her.

Wanda turned to him, and together they both smiled.

"Not as beautiful as you~~~"

They laughed at the same time, happily and freely.

Unlike Gwen, Wanda no longer had a home. To her, Lorien had become her final home. Gwen still had her family, but in her heart, Lorien’s home was becoming more important than the one she was born into.

Not that her original home had lost its value—it was like having a favorite hobby, then discovering a new one. Even if the new hobby grew to outweigh the old, the old still carried its own place in your heart.

Hela was much the same, though she cared even less for her past home. Now, Lorien was her only home as well.

Gradually, Lorien and Wanda simply lay there, staring at the endless stars.

Before long, steady, rhythmic breathing rose beside him.

Lorien turned his head. Wanda had fallen asleep, still clutching his arm, her strikingly beautiful face turned toward him.

Leaning closer, Lorien pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Good night."

At last, he drifted off to sleep.

...

On Cybertron, with the unanimous approval of the Elders, the Transformers civilization officially established a second legion.

The reason for expanding was simple—and it had been proposed by The Collector.

"Honored Elders, the resources of the universe are endless. We need more metal to upgrade our weapons, homes, facilities, and infrastructure... Therefore, I propose we expand and form another Transformers legion."

The proposal passed quickly. With productivity, construction capacity, upgrade speed, and demand all skyrocketing, the amount of metal Cybertron consumed each day was now countless times more than when the civilization first began.

All across Cybertron, fully automated production lines operated around the clock. Mining, refining, melting, recasting, and storage—all of it ran automatically. If problems arose, the descendants of the Transformers only needed to check, while intelligent robots handled the actual work.

So how many descendants were there now? Nearly all had developed into third- or even fourth-generation Transformers. Excluding the Elders, there were already three to four thousand of them.

In other words, Cybertron had three to four thousand warriors on the level of Jetfire. A true steel army.

One legion was no longer enough. Splitting into two was only natural. Thus, the expansion plan was passed almost unanimously.

The next question was naming. With two legions, they needed distinct identities.

The Collector proposed a method: every Transformer could submit a name, and each one had three votes. In the end, the results were decided.

The first legion would be called the Optimus Legion.

The second legion would be called the Decepticon Legion.

The Optimus Legion’s warriors would primarily be clad in red.

The Decepticon Legion’s warriors would primarily be clad in blue.

Primary colors only—the dominant impression at first glance. The younger generations still had freedom to mix in secondary colors.

When expansion finished, the Optimus Legion counted a thousand Transformers descendants, over a hundred transport ships, and nearly half as many combat ships. The Decepticon Legion also had a thousand Transformers, with enough resources to quickly expand to a hundred massive transport ships, plus matching combat ships.

The remaining one to two thousand Transformers were not all destined for combat. Some were still in reserve, some newly created, others specialized in research or administration. Not everyone needed to be a warrior—reserves were necessary, as were those managing Cybertron itself and its vast automated systems.

When the two legions stood ready, the Elder Commander surveyed them and the half of Knowhere already under their control, then gave a thunderous order:

"All Transformers, prepare for deployment!"

At the command, both legions began readying their weapons and equipment. Hundreds of warships stood prepared. Even for a mechanical civilization, such organization would take days.

It wouldn’t be long before news of the red and blue legions spread across the galaxy. Hiding them was impossible—and unnecessary.

The Ballerina Twins carefully recorded it all, inscribing it into the Transformers Chronicles.

Lorien, however, was still asleep. Unless there was an emergency, the Twins would not disturb their master’s rest.

...

The next morning, the sun’s rays warmed Lorien’s face, waking him. He opened his eyes, glanced at the blazing sun above, then at the time.

7:30 AM.

And with that, Lorien immediately realized: choosing to sleep out here had been a stupid decision.

Why?

Because it was Saturday.

He didn’t have work.

Why wake up at 7:30?!

"Mm~~~"

Wanda stirred beside him, also awakened by the harsh sunlight. Without opening her eyes, she turned and nestled into Lorien’s chest, blocking the glare.

"Sigh..."

Lorien exhaled, then waved his hand. A massive sunflower sprouted beside the oversized wooden bowl-bed, its huge head turning automatically toward the sun. With it shading them, the sunlight no longer reached their faces.

Of course, he could have simply snapped his fingers—or even blown out the sun like a candle. But then half the world would scream "apocalypse," chaos would break out, and people would go on looting sprees...

Better to take the simpler option.

Don’t snuff out a sun just for convenience. It wasn’t a light bulb.

Well... for Lorien, maybe it could be.

Never mind.

He climbed out of the Little Universe.

There, Aria approached him.

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"Master, Cybertron has a new plan."

"Speak."