Howard gave Maria a few more instructions, then turned and left, driving towards S.H.I.E.L.D.
In the following days, time flowed like a calm river, peaceful on the surface, but with unknown undercurrents hidden deep within.
Howard maintained his daily work rhythm as usual. Every morning, he dressed neatly, ate breakfast, and drove to S.H.I.E.L.D.
In those magnificent and cold buildings, he reviewed documents, attended meetings, and discussed project progress with his colleagues; everything was the same as usual.
But only he knew that his seemingly focused eyes were observing at all times.
Every figure passing by his office door, every face greeting him in the hallway, every researcher participating in the meeting—Howard was silently evaluating them in his heart.
Could this person be a disguised Skrull? Did that tiny abnormal movement mean something?
However, the Skrulls seemed determined to lie low. Two full weeks passed, and Howard found no suspicious signs.
The details that had once made him suspicious all returned to normal under his deliberate observation.
It was as if the previous abnormalities were just his imagination, or perhaps the Skrull Agents had received a warning and become more cautious.
The interior of S.H.I.E.L.D. was terrifyingly calm; the data on the Tesseract was normal, security records were flawless, and there wasn't even any discussion of "abnormalities" in the Base's gossip.
This perfection itself was an abnormality, but Howard could find no evidence.
Instead, the Skrull locked in his house became a trouble Howard had to deal with.
The green-skinned prisoner was locked in a reinforced storage room, with Maria delivering Water and food at regular intervals every day.
Of course, this was done through a special delivery slot to avoid direct contact. Howard had tried interrogating him several times, but the other party either remained silent or looked at him coldly with those yellow eyes without saying a word.
"How long do we have to keep him?" One evening, Maria asked softly while tidying up the tableware: "This is not a long-term solution."
Howard sighed. His wife was right; an alien prisoner hidden in the house was like a ticking time bomb.
But they couldn't hand him over to S.H.I.E.L.D.; who knew how many Skrull accomplices were there? They couldn't let him go either, as that would alert the enemy.
"Wait a little longer..." Howard said, his voice laced with exhaustion: "Until we find other clues..."
However, clues were slow to come, the investigation reached a stalemate, and Howard's life fell into a strange calm.
Working by the book every day, coming home, eating, discussing progress with Mavuika, and then repeating it the next day.
But at the same time, the lives of Mavuika and Tony were much richer.
Having regained the Flamestrider, how could Mavuika resist going for a ride?
On the first day, she just drove around the country roads near the Villa to familiarize herself with the vehicle's performance. On the second day, her activity range expanded to nearby towns.
By the third day, she had already ridden to a lakeside two hundred kilometers away and back in just one morning.
By the fourth day, when Howard went out in the morning, he saw Mavuika checking the vehicle, looking like she was preparing for a long trip.
"Are you..." Howard asked hesitantly.
"Going to check out the north," Mavuika said excitedly, holding a map she found in Howard's study.
"I heard there's a beautiful mountain road there with many curves and few cars."
Howard opened his mouth, wanting to remind her to be safe, but thinking of Mavuika's identity and abilities, he swallowed the words back.
Finally, he just nodded: "Be careful on the road."
"Don't worry." Mavuika put on her helmet, and the engine let out a joyful roar.
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