Bella even suspected that the so-called Super Soldier Serum was likely some variant of a bio-virus. The whole notion that "good people become better, evil people become worse" sounded an awful lot like the residual plant consciousness found in the virus.
The only difference was that Weyland's scientists had suppressed the plant consciousness to an absolute minimum, while the Super Soldier Serum seemed to amplify it to the point where it actively influenced its host.
Which approach was superior was hard to say. Perhaps Captain America's type of enhancement could unleash incredible power at critical moments, but Natasha didn't care for that kind of explosive, last-resort-power-up style of combat. Enhancement was a tool — a weapon — and one of the key benchmarks of a good weapon was reliability. She preferred reliability, and so did Bella.
...
This was the third Christmas the Swan family had spent together. In just two more months, their household of four would become five.
Early that morning, Charlie had thrown himself into preparations — the Christmas tree, strings of lights, ribbons and garlands, and a red Santa hat for every member of the family.
Bella had also prepared gifts for everyone.
Necklaces, earrings, rings, shoes, handbags — her finances were more than sufficient these days, and after acquiring those ancient scrolls, her knowledge of enchantment had improved considerably. Her magical accessories were more refined in their craftsmanship and more powerful in their effects.
"Too bad there's no snow in Los Angeles this year." Natasha leaned on the windowsill, and in a rare display of childishness, let out a small complaint.
Bella squeezed in beside her, shoulder to shoulder, and looked up at the sky. The weather really had been abnormal this year — late December felt more like mid-November. Forget snow; the temperature was barely different from autumn. On the streets, aside from people like Bella who genuinely didn't feel the cold, there were plenty of girls still walking around in short skirts and shorts.
"Global warming, maybe?" she said, not particularly concerned.
Three years since she'd transmigrated, and she still couldn't muster much Christmas spirit. She tried her best to look happy and engaged, but compared to the genuine excitement of the people around her, she often felt like she was watching from the outside — like a stranger who didn't quite belong.
Natasha spun around. Seeing that their parents were still upstairs busy with the nursery, she grabbed Bella's cheeks and stretched them apart. "Cheer up! Stop overthinking all that nonsense. Smile!"
Bella couldn't exactly share what was on her mind. All she could do was offer a bright smile in return.
The moment she saw the smile, Natasha immediately pressed her advantage. "I want to see snow!"
Bella stared at her, utterly baffled for a moment. Her mind ran through several loops before she grasped the implication.
She looked up at the cloud layer, then quietly gauged her own psionic reserves.
Back in Moscow, when she'd frozen those explosives, she had indeed triggered a citywide snowfall — but that was Moscow, a place that snowed constantly. Los Angeles was a different story entirely.
She ran some mental calculations.
Looking into Natasha's expectant eyes, the urge to show off in front of her lover kept bubbling up — but she also worried it would be too conspicuous.
"Just try it, try it, just once!" Natasha held up a single finger, her expression practically vibrating with excitement.
Bella figured that constantly suppressing the urge to flex her abilities wasn't healthy either. When the moment called for it, you had to deliver. Otherwise, what was the point of training until you were practically invincible if nobody ever got to see it? How tragic would that be?
But before the snow, she had one question: "Natasha, tell me — who is the most beautiful woman in the world?"
Faced with Bella's recurring existential interrogation, Natasha had evolved through every stage — from initial shock to half-hearted deflection, then amusement, then indifference. By now, she could handle the question with practiced ease.
She knew Bella had ways of detecting whether her answer was sincere. So she cleared her throat, adopted an expression of utmost solemnity, and declared: "In my heart, you are the most beautiful woman!"
Bella was absolutely delighted. It was just a little snowfall, right? To make her beloved smile, this was nothing.
She did a rough calculation. "How about just our two blocks?"
Natasha agreed immediately. Whether it snowed anywhere else was entirely irrelevant to her. "Yes, yes!"
Bella extended her right hand out the window, closed her eyes, and prepared to unleash a massive, wide-area ice storm — enormous in scale, but with zero lethal force.
"Hm? Actually, there's a smarter way to do this. Sakura, Sakura, come help!" Halfway through casting, Bella interrupted herself and pulled the little dragon dozing on her shoulder awake.
"Hnn? Bella, Natasha, what's going on?" Sakura had zero interest in Christmas and had fallen asleep ages ago. She cracked open bleary eyes and peered at them curiously.
"Help me thicken the cloud layer. Clouds follow the dragon, winds follow the tiger — you've definitely got the talent for this, right?" Bella's smile was exceptionally sweet.
Sakura poked her head out to survey the night sky. It was already past ten o'clock; streetlights glowed warm below, and every now and then a child knocked on a neighbor's door to ask for Christmas candy. It looked quite lively.
She scratched her head. "Why do you need thicker clouds?"
"Because with a thick cloud layer, I can make it snow properly! It'll feel so much more festive!" Bella explained her plan, and Natasha nodded rapidly beside her.
Sakura adopted an exaggeratedly grown-up tone: "How childish! You two aren't kids anymore!... Fine, this dragon will lend you a hand."
She was only a flood dragon at this stage, but her innate gifts remained. Under Sakura's manipulation, clouds from every direction began converging over Los Angeles.
The entire process took less than ten minutes. The moment she finished, Sakura — terrified that Bella would rope her into something else — wriggled her sinuous little body back to her room to sleep.
Building on this foundation, Bella manipulated the moisture in the air, using her psionic energy to compress and stack the clouds heavier and heavier. When the clock's hands pointed to eleven, a heavy snowfall — fat flakes like goose feathers — blanketed all of Los Angeles.
The snowfall drained more than two-thirds of Bella's psionic reserves from her mind lake, but it brought her a rare sense of inner peace. The inexplicable melancholy from earlier vanished, and her mood suddenly lifted.
"Feeling better now?" Natasha asked with a knowing smile.
Bella's eyes widened. "You know magic too?"
Natasha lifted her chin. "I don't know magic, but I know psychology. A lot of principles are universal — the more you train in martial arts, the stronger you get; the more you practice marksmanship, the more accurate you become. Every skill works the same way. That approach of yours — locking yourself behind closed doors to brute-force your training — that's never going to work."
The argument was a little one-sided — specific problems needed specific solutions. What was Bella supposed to do? Go kick down the door at Kamar-Taj?
Completely unrealistic. But letting loose once in a while? Not a bad idea at all.
THUD!
Just as Bella and Natasha were making their wishes together, a dull impact suddenly came from the direction of the fireplace — as if something heavy had fallen.
Both of them went on alert at the same time.
What was that?