All the heavens, starting as the ruler of the universe

Sokovia is gray.

The streets, buildings, and sky were all gray and drab, like an old bed sheet that had been washed repeatedly.

This land has suffered so much war that even when the sunlight shines here, it seems as if there is something between it and the sun.

Wanda Maximov lived in this gray area for sixteen years, her memory beginning to break in two when she was ten years old.

After she and Pietro were pulled from the ruins, her world became nothing but gray.

The foundation's representatives appeared three months later.

Wearing a dark blue uniform with an olive branch badge pinned to his chest, he spoke with a slight bend at the waist, as if trying to lower himself to the same height as the children.

They gave the siblings a key to a new apartment, telling them it was compensation for families affected by the disaster.

"What's lost can't be recovered, but at least the living can have a place to live." The person who said this had three creases at the corners of his eyes, and when he smiled, he looked like a crumpled and then smoothed-out piece of paper.

Wanda took the key.

Eleven-year-olds don't delve into the details of "free things." They just clutch the keys tightly, stand for a long time in the empty new room, and then place the photo album left by their parents in the most conspicuous spot.

The foundation staff would come every few months to ask about your living conditions, your schooling, and if you had any difficulties.

Pietro got along very well with them, especially the man with three wrinkles at the corner of his eye, who would always pat Pietro on the shoulder and say, "You have a lot of talent," but never say what kind of talent.

Wanda didn't like him. She didn't like the way he smiled, and she didn't like the way he would look around the room every time he came, like a warehouse manager taking inventory.

But she never said any of this to Pietro.

Because her brother needed to believe in something. In Sokovia, believing in someone who pats you on the shoulder and says you have talent is better than believing in nothing at all.

And today is the day they came.

After seeing them off, Wanda spotted the unusual man.

He stood in front of the grocery store across the street.

They are not from Sokovia.

Wanda knew it almost the instant she saw him.

It wasn't because of his clothes—his dark gray casual wear wasn't particularly eye-catching here—nor was it for anything else, but rather because her intuition told her that this man was different.

It's like a faded old photograph suddenly having a person whose image hasn't faded.

"Do you two live here?" Lin Yan walked up and looked at the still very young Wanda and Quicksilver.

"Yes," Wanda said.

Are there any rental properties around here?

Pietro glanced at Lin Yan's clothes; a tuft of his silver-gray hair stood up in the dim light of the corridor.

"Who are you?" His tone carried the doubt of a nineteen-year-old boy who thought he was mature, like a cat with its fur standing on end.

"I'm basically a tourist."

"Traveling to Sokovia?" Pietro tried to mimic the tone of those thugs. "What's so great about this place?"

"Just passing by." Lin Yan didn't want to explain any further.

Wanda's fingers unconsciously twisted around the pendant around her neck. "There's an empty room on the fourth floor, but don't expect it to be very comfortable."

Pietro turned his head and glanced at her.

Her gaze remained fixed on the man, his gray-green eyes revealing no emotion in the dim light of the corridor.

"This is the rent." Lin Yan took out a stack of US dollars, the kind that can be used.

Pietro's previously wary gaze instantly softened.

He stared at the stack of banknotes for about two seconds, then reached out and took them, rubbing the edges with his fingers as if to confirm they were real.

In Sokovia, the exchange rate of the US dollar is more reliable than any official figure, a fact understood by anyone who grew up on the streets.

"Fourth floor, the one at the end of the hallway." Pietro folded the banknote and stuffed it into his pocket with the fluidity of a hundred times. "You wouldn't mind sharing with us, would you?"

"I don't mind." Lin Yan shook his head and followed Pietro up the somewhat dilapidated stairs.

The room was small, with a single bed, a wooden table, a chair, and a west-facing window that overlooked the grocery store across the street.

On the windowsill sat a pot of withered plants; the soil was hardened and cracked, making it impossible to tell what had originally grown there.

He pushed open the window, and the evening breeze blew in, carrying the aroma of freshly baked bread from downstairs and the rusty smell of distant ruins.

Pietro waited until Lin Yan's door was closed before taking the banknotes out of his pocket and counting them again.

It's not that I'm worried, it's that he enjoys the feeling of counting money.

The feel of US dollars is different from that of local Sokovian banknotes; they are stiffer, smoother, and more valuable.

Wanda walked past him, went into the room, and sat on the windowsill.

Pietro followed him in, folded the banknotes, stuffed them back into his pocket, and leaned against the doorframe. "You really intend to let him stay?"

Wanda did not answer.

Her gaze fell on the newly lit light at the grocery store across the street, her fingers unconsciously twisting the pendant.

"Someone of unknown origin suddenly pulled out a wad of US dollars and wanted to rent our house." Pietro emphasized the words "of unknown origin," as if it were a phrase he'd just learned and was eager to use. "Don't you think there's something wrong with that?"

"You took the money."

Pietro opened his mouth slightly, then closed it again.

He shifted his weight from his left foot to his right, leaning his shoulder against the other side of the door frame. "I take the money because we need it, but that doesn't mean I think he's alright."

"At least he won't make our lives worse." Wanda didn't say anything more.

Pietro also fell silent.

The last vestiges of twilight outside the window were swallowed by the night, and the light from the grocery store became the only source of light on the entire street.

He squatted by the windowsill, his silver-gray hair hanging down to cover half his face, unconsciously clutching the folded banknote in his hand.

Lin Yan ignored the siblings' whispered conversation. He stood by the window, holding a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

The people coming and going around him came into his view, which made him notice something unusual.

For example, there is actually a Hydra's lair here.

Lin Yan paused his coffee cup at his lips. "It seems Hydra has been watching the two of them for a long time."

Lin Yan recalled that Wanda's abilities were activated by Hydra using the Infinity Stones in their experiments, which meant that Hydra already possessed one Infinity Stone.

No, perhaps there are two.

After all, S.H.I.E.L.D. had long been corrupted and infiltrated, becoming a Hydra base.

"I should find some time to collect some gems."

Lin Yan placed the coffee cup on the windowsill.

The bottom of the cup tapped against the edge of the dry flowerpot with a very soft, crisp sound, and from the cracks in the soil, a faint hint of green was pushing outwards.