AC/DC's screaming " Highway to Hell " rips through the dry air of the California desert.
Vers frowned at the noise.
"Is this your Earth's battle anthem?"
She asked loudly, trying to drown out the roar of the guitar.
"No, this is spirit!"
Wei burst into laughter, freeing one hand to shove a cheeseburger wrapped in parchment paper into Vers's hand.
"Come, have a taste! One of the greatest inventions on Earth!"
Vers looked at the warm object in his hand, which emitted a strange fragrance, his face filled with resistance.
In Kree's nutritional rationing system, food is only meant to provide the most efficient energy, and would never have such a complex and "degenerate" smell.
"This stuff... has a very low energy conversion rate."
She analyzed it using the mindset of Kree warrior.
Screw conversion rates!
Wei rolled her eyes.
"If life is only about conversion rates, then I might as well be a robot! Eat it!"
Urged on by Vi, Vers hesitated and took a small bite.
The beef patties had a smoky, charred aroma from the charcoal fire.
The melted cheese is rich and savory.
The slight sourness of the pickled cucumber and the sweetness of the sauce explode on the tip of the tongue.
This feeling was completely different from all her memories of "eating".
That wasn't about replenishing energy; it was an irrational... joy.
She stopped chewing.
Deep in my mind, an image flashed before my eyes without warning.
It was a sunny afternoon, and she was sitting on a wooden outdoor bleacher, holding something similar in her hand.
A woman next to her, whose face was obscured, was laughing and mocking her for eating with sauce all over her mouth.
"Hey? Alien girl? Are you stupid?"
Wei's voice pulled her back from her brief daze.
Vers snapped out of his daze, a look of confusion flashing in his eyes.
She quickly finished the rest of the hamburger, trying to fill the sudden emptiness in her heart with food.
"How does it taste?" Wei asked smugly.
"Good."
Everything that Wey championed—rock and roll, junk food, and unbridled recklessness—was considered "decadent music" and "inefficient energy" to be rejected by Kree's doctrine.
This feeling left her both confused and with an inexplicable longing.
"Remember this feeling."
Wei saw through her thoughts and slammed on the gas pedal.
"This is freedom. Forget all those bullshit orders and rules, do whatever you want."
Vers silently watched the cacti rushing past the window, without saying a word.
After several hours of high-speed driving, a rusty road sign, almost buried by yellow sand, came into view.
Wei Yi turned the steering wheel, and the SUV turned onto a dirt road that didn't exist on the map at all.
At the end of the road, a solitary bungalow appeared on the horizon.
That's Pancho's Bar.
It looks like a specimen forgotten by time, with peeling paint and only half of the neon sign still faintly glowing.
Wei whistled loudly, executed a beautiful drift, and parked the car a short distance away, kicking up a cloud of dust.
"Looks like we've found the place."
The two pushed open the door and entered.
The bar was dimly lit, with only a few dim, yellowish chandeliers casting a weak glow.
A sad country song was playing from the jukebox, and a drunk man was slumped over the table, sobbing softly.
At the bar, several burly men in leather jackets and covered in tattoos looked up at them.
"A new face."
A bald man with a long beard put down his wine glass.
"There's not much to see in this place."
His companions didn't laugh; they just silently observed them.
Another man tapped the table with his knuckles and grinned, "What would you two ladies like to drink? Our wine here isn't exactly palatable."
Ignoring the provocations, Wei walked straight to the bar and tapped the scratched wooden countertop with her knuckles.
"Boss, I need to ask you something."
Behind the bar, an old man with a blank expression wiped the glasses, not even bothering to lift his eyelids.
"Get out if you're not going to drink."
"We're looking for someone."
Wei pulled a hundred-dollar bill from her pocket and slapped it on the bar.
"Or rather, to recall some memories."
The old man paused for a moment upon seeing the money.
"Explain."
Have you seen this woman before?
After saying that, Vi pointed to Vers next to her.
"I don't recognize it, but if you're looking for something, you can look over there."
He pointed to the wall behind the bar, covered with old photos.
Vers, who was looking around, was soon captivated by a photograph on the wall.
It was a photograph that had already yellowed.
In the photo, a group of young men and women in flight suits stand in a row, full of vigor, with a sleek fighter jet behind them.
In the very center of the photo, a woman with short, neat hair and a smile brighter than the California sunshine is intimately embracing another Black female pilot.
That woman... it was herself!
He wasn't wearing the green uniform of the Kree Empire, but rather a flight jacket belonging to the United States Air Force. Air Force.
Her face showed no trace of the coldness of a soldier, only the pride and confidence of a pilot.
" Maria..."
A name slipped uncontrollably from Vers's lips.
She looked at the black woman in the photo whom she was embracing, and a feeling of familiarity mixed with strangeness welled up inside her.
who I am?
Who am I?
Elite warriors of the Kree Starforce?
Or... a pilot from Earth?
New York, Vought Tower.
Lynn sat quietly behind her desk, reviewing the final report.
Nina Williams ' action summary was concise yet deadly.
The combat data uploaded by Vi's personal terminal is wild and violent.
The last footage before all the surveillance cameras near the nursing home were "cleaned up" clearly recorded the woman named Vers and the deformed Skrulls.
alien.
Shapeshifting race.
Earth's heroes capable of withstanding energy impacts head-on.
There was also the extremely unstable high-dimensional energy residue detected on Vers.
These seemingly unrelated fragments pieced together in Lynn's mind to form a vague outline that had been deliberately buried for many years.
" Project Pegasus "
A name that is almost forgotten.
Lynn pressed the internal communicator on the table.
Tifa, come to my office.
Less than thirty seconds later, the office door was silently pushed open.
Tifa walked in, wearing a fitted business suit, her long, black hair flowing smoothly over her shoulders.
"Boss."
"Use highest privileges to decrypt an old file codenamed ' Pegasus '."
"I need all the raw data, especially the accident reports from the final stage of flight testing."
"Clear."
Tifa nodded without asking any further questions.
"Furthermore," Lynn added, "Contact Ada Wong. Have her use her connections to thoroughly investigate this ' Project Pegasus ' from beginning to end. Especially the project's later leader, a Dr. Wendy Lawson. Her background, her relationships, everyone she contacted before her death."