At seven in the morning, Artoria woke up in the basement.
She was lying on a temporary sleeping bag, next to a half-finished thoracic skeletal frame. Last night, she had worked until four in the morning, finally completing the rough machining of the sixteen ribs for the front half of the rib cage on the CNC machine. Her intense focus had led her to sleep right there in the workspace.
As she sat up, soreness radiated from her shoulders and back. Artoria's physical endurance far exceeded that of an ordinary person, but eighteen consecutive hours of high-precision operations still accumulated fatigue. She stretched her neck, walked to the small refrigerator by the wall, and took a sip of an energy drink.
The icy liquid cleared her head a bit. She looked at the workbench—twelve pairs of titanium alloy ribs were neatly arranged, glinting with a cold silver luster in the morning light. Each rib had complex curves and precise connection interfaces, perfectly replicating the biomechanical structure from the design blueprints.
"Progress at 37%," she whispered.
The 24 sections of the spine were complete, and the front half of the rib cage was done. Next were the sternum, clavicles, and scapulae, followed by the most complex structure: the pelvis. At her current speed, the complete skeleton would take another four to five days.
But there was something more important today—the first batch of purchased parts was scheduled to arrive this morning.
She washed up quickly and changed into her work clothes. At exactly eight o'clock, her phone rang. It was a delivery driver from Stark Logistics, his voice respectful: "Miss Artoria, your goods have arrived at the coastal highway entrance. However, the last stretch of road leading to your residence is too narrow for the truck to pass. Do you think..."
"Use a small cart for the transfer; I'll come over to help." She hung up and found a folding handcart in a corner of the warehouse.
Riding her small electric scooter to the highway entrance, she saw a van emblazoned with the Stark Industries logo already parked there. Two technicians in jumpsuits were unloading goods, with twelve shockproof boxes neatly arranged on the ground.
"Miss Artoria?" The older technician stepped forward. "I'm Hank, and this is Miguel. Tony instructed us to deliver these personally and assist with the unboxing and inspection."
"Sorry for the trouble."
The three of them used the handcart to transport the boxes back to the cottage in three trips. A corner of the basement was soon filled. Hank took out an electronic checklist and began verifying them one by one.
"First box: Japanese Sankyo micro-servo motors, 72 units, model SH-2040HD." He opened the first box, revealing neatly arranged black metal cylinders. Each was only the size of a thumb, yet they were rated for a torque as high as 5Nm.
Artoria picked one up; it felt solid in her hand. A slender cable extended from the rear of the motor, ending in a specialized eight-pin waterproof interface. She connected it to a test power supply on the workbench, and the motor immediately emitted an almost inaudible hum, its axis rotating smoothly.
"The quality is fine," she nodded.
"Second box: German ME-system six-dimensional force sensors, 24 sets." Hank opened the second box, which contained even more precise silver disc-shaped devices with complex strain gauge patterns on their surfaces.
Artoria connected them to her laptop and ran a test program. The sensors provided real-time feedback on force and torque data across six degrees of freedom, with noise levels below 0.01%, meeting the precision standards.
"Third box: specialized flexible wiring, aerospace grade, 500 meters." This box was the heaviest, containing rolls of silver-white cables with a fine fabric texture on the outer sheath, making them extremely flexible.
"Boxes four through nine: visual sensor components, gyroscopes, accelerometers, temperature arrays..." Hank went through the inventory item by item. All parts perfectly matched the specifications, with tolerances even tighter than the order requirements.
"The last three boxes," Miguel spoke up, "are extra gifts from Mr. Tony."
Artoria was stunned for a moment. Miguel opened the boxes—inside were neatly arranged precision tools: a nanometer-scale torque screwdriver set, a laser interferometer, a micro-dispensing machine, a vacuum adsorption workstation... All were top-tier laboratory equipment, with a total value of no less than two hundred thousand dollars.
"Tony said that building precision things requires precision tools," Hank said with a smile. "These are spare equipment from his lab; it would be a waste to leave them idle."
Artoria silently brushed her hand over those tools. The mirror surface of the laser interferometer reflected her blurred face. This wasn't charity; it was a silent understanding between engineers—a good horse deserves a good saddle, and good parts require good tools.
"Thank him for me," she said.
"We will." Hank handed over the delivery receipt. "If all the goods are confirmed to be correct, please sign here. Also, Tony asked me to tell you: the chip tape-out progress has been moved up, and sample chips are expected in ten days. If you need test boards, just ask anytime."
"Understood."
After seeing off the technicians, Artoria stood in the room filled with parts. The metallic scent of the servo motors, the pine-resin smell of the new circuit boards, and the faint plastic odor of the specialized wiring mixed together—it was the unique scent of 'manufacturing.'
She opened her computer and pulled up the assembly flowchart. Today's goal was to complete the pre-assembly of three thoracic vertebrae and the ribs to test the feasibility of the connection mechanism.
By twelve noon, she had finished the first set of test assemblies. Three thoracic vertebrae were connected via a precise locking structure, and six pairs of ribs were attached with movable joints, forming a miniature rib cage model. She moved the joints manually; the movement was smooth without any sticking.
"Structure passed," she recorded.
Lunch was a simple sandwich. As she ate, she checked the monitoring report sent by S.H.I.E.L.D. Last night, the deep-sea halo had lingered outside her terrace for forty-two minutes, during which its energy signature was stable and showed no aggressive behavior. However, a warning was attached to the end of the report: 'Target exhibits clear learning and adaptive behavior; threat level re-evaluated as "Observation+".'
After lunch, she continued working. At three in the afternoon, the doorbell rang again.
This time it was Coulson. He was carrying a small cooler, his expression more serious than usual.
"Miss Artoria, I hope I'm not disturbing your work." He walked into the house and placed the cooler on the dining table. "The Director had me bring this over—an energy sample of the deep-sea anomaly."
Artoria opened the box. Inside was a three-layered specialized container; the middle layer held a transparent cube, within which a small cloud of pale blue light mist was sealed, slowly swirling.
"We sent out a collection drone last night," Coulson explained. "While the halo was active, we captured this small portion of the energy body using a directional field. It's very stable, but its activity is slowly decaying after being separated from the main body."
Artoria leaned in to observe. The light mist flowed irregularly within the cube, occasionally condensing into structures resembling fractal crystals before quickly dispersing again.
"Test results?"
"Not a known state of matter; it's not plasma, not a condensate, it's a... ordered energy structure." Coulson pulled up data on a tablet. "It possesses a degree of quantum entanglement characteristics and maintains a weak connection with the main body. We tried stimulating it with various frequency bands of energy, and it only responds to a specific frequency—which happens to be the energy signature of your Photograph ability."
Artoria's gaze sharpened.
"So it really was attracted by me."
"It appears so." Coulson put away the tablet. "The Director suggests you suspend the use of your Photograph ability, at least while you're by the sea. We need to observe its reaction."
"If it loses interest, will it leave?"
"Uncertain. But at least it won't continue to approach." Coulson paused. "Additionally, Mr. Stark's probe... was'swallowed' by it last night."
"What?"
"Literally." Coulson pulled up a video—Tony's stealth probe was cruising in the deep sea when it was suddenly enveloped by a rapidly expanding blue light. Three seconds later, the blue light contracted and vanished, and the probe was gone. No explosion, no debris; it was as if it had never existed.
"Does Tony know?"
"He knows. He came to the agency this morning and made quite a scene, saying he wanted to send something more durable down there." Coulson gave a wry smile. "We talked him out of it. It's best not to provoke it until we figure out the nature of this thing."
Artoria looked out at the calm sea surface. If it could silently swallow Tony's probe, the danger of this energy body had clearly been underestimated.
"I'll be careful," she said.
"Also," Coulson took a USB drive from his pocket, "the Director asked me to hand this over. It's regarding historical records of deep-sea anomalies—over the past fifty years, there have been seventeen similar incidents globally, three of which were on the East Coast. In all incidents, the energy bodies had no record of proactive attacks, but..."
"But what?"
"But in all the locations where the incidents occurred, varying degrees of... spatial instability subsequently appeared." Coulson's expression was grave. "Slight gravitational anomalies, localized space-time distortions, brief spatial rifts. Although they all recovered automatically, the principles behind them are unknown."
Artoria took the USB drive. This sounded more like a dimension-related phenomenon rather than just an energy-based lifeform.
After Coulson left, she inserted the USB drive into her computer. The encrypted files required a one-time key from S.H.I.E.L.D. to open, so she couldn't view them for now. But Coulson's words had put her on alert—if the deep-sea halo was related to spatial anomalies, then its 'interest' might be more than just her energy signature.
In the evening, she continued her work. By the time she finished the assembly of the fifth set of ribs, the sky outside was already dark. She walked onto the terrace; the sea was pitch black, and there was no moonlight tonight.
Her wristband suddenly vibrated—three short pulses, the S.H.I.E.L.D. early warning signal.
Almost simultaneously, a blue light lit up beneath the sea surface. But this time it wasn't a single mass; it was... a field. Dozens of light points spread out under the surface, forming a complex array that rotated slowly.
Artoria held her breath. The array of light points began to change, arranging into geometric patterns, then regrouping, as if trying to express something. She noticed the regularity of the patterns—was it some kind of binary code? Or an even more complex mathematical structure?
She rushed back to the study and grabbed her phone to film it. But through the lens, all she could see was a blurry halo, devoid of detail. Artoria's vision could see it clearly, but the equipment could not record it.
The light point array lasted for seven minutes before simultaneously extinguishing. The sea returned to darkness.
Artoria stood by the terrace, her heart beating a little fast. That wasn't random light; that was information. The energy body was trying to communicate.
She went back to the basement, opened her computer, and drew the patterns she had just seen from memory. Complex geometric nestings, fractal structures, some kind of symmetrical transformation law... These were not patterns that a natural phenomenon could produce.
Her phone vibrated; it was a call from Tony.
"Did you see that?" His voice carried a rare excitement.
"I saw it. Did you record it?"
"My rooftop telescope caught parts of it, but the detail isn't enough. Jarvis is analyzing it—those patterns have an information structure; they aren't random. I need clearer imagery. Tomorrow I'm going to set up a high-speed camera array along the coast..."
"S.H.I.E.L.D. told you not to provoke it."
"They have no jurisdiction on my beach." Tony paused. "Besides, if this thing really is trying to communicate... this is humanity's first contact with non-Earth intelligence. Don't you want to know what it's saying?"
Artoria fell silent. She did. But she wanted to know even more why it was 'her.'
"We'll talk tomorrow." She hung up the phone.
Late at night, she lay in bed, unable to sleep. Patterns of the light point array, assembly diagrams of the skeleton, and the swirling light mist in the energy sample flickered alternately in her mind.
This World was revealing a deeper face to her. Not just superheroes and S.H.I.E.L.D., but also the mysteries of the deep sea, dimensional anomalies, and unknown intelligences.
And she, in the midst of this unknown, was quietly building her own anchor.
The sea outside the window was as black as ink.
But in those depths, there was light waiting.
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