As soon as he got ho, Lorien fired up the Ferrari with a roar.
Wanda jumped, clearly unsettled.
"Slow down, you’re going too fast."
"Fast?" Lorien pressed the gas and glanced at the speedoter. It was barely hitting sixty. "This is nothing."
But Wanda still couldn’t handle it. Even that speed was too much for her.
So Lorien had no choice but to ease up and drive slower.
Until finally...
...
That night, Wanda went to bed unusually early.
They had gotten ho around seven, and by nine she was already asleep.
Maybe she was carsick? Lorien hadn’t been driving that fast—she was just tired. She even fell asleep with a smile on her face, which ant Lorien had been especially gentle with her this ti.
But just as Wanda drifted off... soone else started clamoring for a ride.
Who could it be? Who else but that little loli.
"Hmph, you lied to ! You didn’t have ti to take out at all!"
"Then why don’t I make up for all the tis I missed?"
"Hmph... I’m not scared of you..."
"You said it."
"I..."
Yeah right!
With a tsundere like this, the only way to get her to behave for a few days was to give her a serious lesson. And Hela was a god—Lorien could be just as unrestrained with her as he was with Gwen.
As long as it wouldn’t kill her, he’d push her to the brink.
Didn’t she say he had no ti for her? Fine. He’d give her everything he’d been "saving up" all at once. Let’s see how much she could handle.
So from nine o’clock onward... Lorien had no idea when he finally went to sleep. At so point, he simply lost track of ti.
All he rembered was that by the end, Hela was trembling and completely unable to move.
Then he finally went to bed.
...
The next morning, Lorien barely made it to work on ti. He had genuinely almost overslept.
When he opened his eyes, it was already 8:49.
Seven minutes for a shower, four minutes to rush out the door, and finally a snap of his fingers to teleport straight into the office.
Clocked in—success.
"Phew..."
A few seconds after he sat down, the ti ticked over to 9:00. Lorien let out a long breath.
As usual, he grabbed himself an iced milk tea.
When he noticed the fridge was running low, he gave a casual wave and instantly refilled it.
Let’s be clear—one of his clock-in rewards was [Unlimited Milk Tea]. Endless refills, always.
And that wasn’t even his only unlimited milk tea.
If you asked who drank the most, it was probably Hela.
First, she could fight like no one else.
Second, she loved milk tea.
Not a drop went to waste.
Of course, it was still just milk tea—Lorien knew better than to think otherwise.
"Ton, ton, ton~~~"
After downing a big gulp, Lorien leaned back, propped his feet up on the desk, and started idling as usual.
He flicked on the TV for so news.
[According to the New York Police Departnt, the city’s cri rate has been dropping month by month. This month marks the lowest rate in history!]
[Citizens cheer that the Goddess Alliance should continue as superheroes. They don’t have overwhelming destructive power and can fight cri even more effectively!]
[Want to know about the past team-ups between Scarlet Witch and Spider-Woman? Search ’Goddess Alliance’ at goddessalliance!]
...
Lorien glanced at the news and couldn’t help thinking—New Yorkers sure knew how to play things up. The NYPD even more so.
Scarlet Witch and Gwen’s approval ratings had already been sky-high, shooting up from 45 degrees on the chart and never dropping.
Now the police were announcing record-low cri rates. Of course the public would think:
"Oh my god, it’s thanks to the Goddess Alliance!"
"I love the Goddess Alliance!"
"Support them! Vote for the police departnt!"
With that kind of positive cycle, there was no way the Goddess Alliance wouldn’t explode in popularity.
And truth be told, Gwen had contributed a lot to the falling cri rate. Whenever she had free ti before or after school, if she spotted a cri, she stepped in.
In fact, whenever she was alone, it was like she was a magnet for cri.
aning? She always happened to encounter criminals—and then promptly deal with them.
Of course, in a city as massive as New York, the number of people Gwen personally helped was just a fraction compared to what the police handled.
But her deterrent power? Far more effective than the entire NYPD.
That deterrence was the real reason cri was dropping.
The police must have realized it too, which was why they were subtly backing the Goddess Alliance.
And so, this situation erged—
The entire city loved the Goddess Alliance, while male superheroes got no love. People even claid female superheroes caused less destruction.
But that was only on the surface.
You think Wanda has low destructive power? Try bringing back the Chitauri. She could wipe them out alone—no backup needed.
This "low destructive power" was just like seeing a panda and thinking it’s a cat instead of a bear. It’s beautiful, sure, but it’s only an illusion.
As for the rest... Lorien actually had his eye on sothing else.
"GoddessAlliance"
"Is this site for real?"
Lorien glanced at the URL, turned to the computer beside him, and typed it in.
With a tap of the Enter key—
"There it is."
The page loaded, and two large, high-quality images filled the screen: Scarlet Witch on the left, Spider-Woman on the right.
Scrolling down revealed a tiline filled entirely with praise for the two—every entry a highlight of Scarlet Witch and Spider-Woman’s deeds.
For example: "Scarlet Witch · [Year] · [Event] · [Photo/Video]."
Wanda’s first recorded event was Sokovia. Most of the photos showed the city’s ruins.
The videos, captured by bystanders, showed Wanda tearing Ultron’s machine soldiers apart with her bare hands, then saving dozens of people.
Further down were entries on Gwen. But in reality, the public only knew her as Spider-Woman—they didn’t know she was Gwen.
There were very few photos of her, and most were blurry. Her recorded feats were scarce.
The only clear shot was from when she and Wanda appeared together.
"Interesting."
Lorien smiled and closed the page.
This wasn’t the work of so random internet user or an average civilian. Every event listed carried a positive impact, with nothing but praise for the two won.
Noticeably absent were incidents like Wanda’s accidental injury of Cap while trying to save him.
That ant the site was likely made by an underground organization—not one hostile to the two, but one that supported them.
Who could it be? SHIELD?
"Beep~"
Just then, his phone buzzed with a text.
It was anonymous:
"Hey~, did you check out the Goddess Alliance site? You’ll love it. I’ve been pulling all-nighters to make it happen."
"Fury says the only way to stabilize public morale now is through Wanda and Gwen, so I took the liberty."
"Oh, and if you want to thank , hurry up and buy a yacht."
At that last line, Lorien lowered the hand he’d been about to use his ability with.
"Natasha, you scher."
So she was behind it.
No wonder the data was so complete—and so flattering toward Wanda and Gwen.
It turned out Fury wanted to rebuild public faith, and the only ones with the influence to do it... were Lorien’s won.
Wanda and Gwen.
Naturally, he had Natasha put the site together.
Lorien shook his head with a helpless smile.
"Wanda’s going to blow her top when she sees this."
Soone was trying to make Wanda a household na, but she just wanted to be a housewife. The irony was almost comical.
Gwen, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. Since her real identity remained a secret, she could keep being a superhero for fun without any trouble.
"How interesting."
Lorien shook his head, then crossed his legs again and went back to slacking off.
...
...
In the void of space, there was a lawless gray zone—Knowhere. It was, in fact, the severed head of an ancient Celestial. Inside lay countless treasures of imnse value.
Even after who knew how many years of continuous mining, using the power of ordinary beings to exploit a Celestial’s head was still a hopelessly overambitious task. As a result, vast reserves of high-value resources remained.
This was one of the reasons The Collector had stayed here for so long—Knowhere produced valuable goods without end.
But today, ten colossal chanical beasts descended on its outskirts.
Each had a single enormous eye, and all ten fixed their gaze on Knowhere. The intricate machinery within them whirred, as if scanning the entire place.
"Co out! Everyone, co out!"
"There are ten huge eyes in the sky!"
"What are those monsters? They’re terrifying!"
Panic spread quickly among Knowhere’s inhabitants.
Imagine looking up to see ten massive, cyclopean eyes staring down at you—each hundreds of ters across. Just eting their gaze would be enough to awaken a primal fear of the colossal.
And among those titans, the towering chanical giants—each tens of thousands of ters tall—were conversing.
[Armory, what’s the resource status here?]
[Extrely valuable. If we bring it back, we can upgrade the bodies of every elder on Cybertron!]
[Then what are we waiting for? For the Creator!]
[What about the lifeforms here? The Creator forbids our usual killing.]
[We’ll build a massive ship on-site, load them all in, and send them away. After that, this place will be Cybertron’s.]
[Agreed. For the Creator, for Cybertron.]
[Agreed. For the Creator, for Cybertron.]
...
With unanimous approval from the ten elders, they each opened their "inventories."
Countless robots and Transforr descendants surged toward Knowhere.
anwhile, one production-type Transforr began constructing the ship by hand. It consud the stored tals within its body, lted them down, and, with the aid of its internal chanical arms, began assembling piece after piece.
No one knew how much ti passed, but eventually, a massive spherical ship took shape.
On Knowhere itself, waves of robots and Transforr descendants landed. Heavy cannons and laser weapons in hand, they spread through the streets, commandeering every information terminal.
Then ca the announcent:
"The Cybertron civilization will reclaim all resources here. The Creator permits you to leave safely and seek a new ho."
It was broadcast again and again—two tis, three tis, four tis.
Fear gripped the populace. So peered nervously outside. The smallest of the Transforrs stood 15–20 ters tall, while larger robots reached 30–50 ters—utterly dwarfing the locals, who were barely two ters.
Even those on a 10th-floor balcony found themselves eye-to-eye with passing machines.
The sight was overwhelming.
Inside, hushed voices rose into frantic debate.
"What do we do? Should we go out? Will they kill us?"
"The terminal said we can leave safely."
"They’re all machines out there! Not a single living creature!"
"What are they?"
"Their weapons are enormous! That cannon’s barrel is almost half a ter wide!"
The noise caught the attention of a passing Transforr.
A black descendant stopped, stepped up to the building, and looked directly into the 5th-floor window. Its human-like chanical face and glowing eyes filled the fra.
"I am Vatron, fourth-generation descendant of the Elder Transforr Moltenfire," it said.
"You may co out and board the ship without fear. As long as you do not resist, the Creator will not allow us to kill you."
"Ahhhhhhh!!!"
The booming chanical voice nearly made them soil themselves. One glance at a two-ter-wide chanical face—about the size of a heavy iron gate—was enough to freeze anyone in terror.
Vatron waited.
After a long pause, soone finally spoke.
"Who is your Creator? Will you really not harm us?"
The Transforr’s chanical face shifted slightly as it answered.
"The Creator is the absolute master of all Transforrs. Every Transforr must be absolutely loyal to the Creator."
"Absolute loyalty ans absolute obedience."
"We will follow the Creator’s orders without fail. If you do not resist, the Creator forbids us to kill you."
"But that depends on you not resisting."
The aning was clear: I’m telling the truth—don’t force to act.
The people exchanged uneasy glances until one person tried again.
"Alright, we’ll co out. But we want to bring so of our belongings."
Vatron stepped back from the window.
"Fine. The ship is large, but you may not bring anything more than twice your own size."
With that, the Transforr turned and left.
The ssage had been delivered. Those who stayed behind would be forcibly removed by the intelligent robots, and any resistance would be t with imdiate elimination.
Still, after the first group departed carrying their valuables, the sight encouraged others. One by one, more people boarded the ship and left.
Within a few hours, most of Knowhere’s ordinary inhabitants had been evacuated.
But so factions refused.
Though small in number, they controlled the majority of Knowhere’s wealth. Convincing them to leave was impossible.
At the edge of the Tivan Group’s territory, Vatron returned with dozens of Transforr descendants to deliver a final warning.
"I am—"
Boom!
Before Vatron could finish, the territory launched an attack.
The strike never even reached its target.
Boom!
It was intercepted mid-air by a nearby Transforr with ocular attachnts, whose weapon blazed as it blocked the shot.
Clang!
At once, the other Transforrs’ facial plating shifted into armored form.
"Ard resistance detected. All Transforrs—attack!"
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