In the weeks following the successful synthesis of the New Element, the top-floor laboratory of Stark Tower seemed to have transformed into a ceaseless workshop of joy.
Tony Stark seemed to have been injected with a concentrated dose of stimulant, or rather, had rediscovered that pure, almost manic creative passion from back when he hammered out his first suit of iron armor in that cave in Afghanistan.
The Mark 4, or the "New Era" prototype, transformed from blueprint to reality at an unprecedented speed, driven by the brand new "New Element" reactor that emitted a stable, pale golden shimmer.
Tony abandoned many of the compromise designs he had previously been forced to make due to energy constraints, stuffing the new armor with more powerful thrusters, denser weapon hardpoints, more complex attitude control systems, and a whole heap of flashy features that "sounded cool but might never be used" (such as a retractable carbon nanotube cape, which Pepper had firmly vetoed).
The laboratory echoed all day with the sounds of welding, the humming of robotic arms, Jarvis's simulated parameter reports, and the sound of Tony humming out-of-tune old songs.
Artoria would occasionally receive "harassment" communications from Tony, sharing some whimsical design ideas or asking about a detail regarding energy field coupling.
She usually only provided brief technical advice, then left most of her time for herself and Minerva.
As the energy revolution brought about by the "New Element" quietly brewed within Stark Industries, and as her invisible game investments began to bear fruit all over the World ("Legendary Conflict" started its first round of closed beta in Sweden with explosive feedback; the South Korean team for "The Last of Us: Arena" received their first substantial pre-order revenue), Artoria felt a long-lost, steady sense of life moving forward.
Little Ai Classmate had perfectly integrated into their daily lives, taking over most information processing and asset management tasks, giving Minerva more "free" time—although for Minerva, so-called free time was nothing more than more focused execution of the core protocol of "Protect Artoria," or silently observing and learning the minutiae of human society.
"Artoria," one day at breakfast, Minerva placed a perfectly fried sunny-side up egg in front of Artoria, her optical sensor gazing at her calmly, "According to Mr. Tony Stark's public itinerary, he will travel to Monaco in three days to participate in the exhibition race segment of the Monte Carlo Historic Grand Prix and attend the subsequent charity gala as a special guest.
He sent an invitation to your private line an hour ago, asking if you and... I, are interested in attending the race, all expenses paid, with top-tier suites provided.
He emphasized, 'Consider it a celebration that I don't have to be poisoned to death by myself, and that your game company is making more money than one of my departments.'"
Artoria put down her milk glass and wiped the corner of her mouth.
Monaco... racing... Relevant "plot" memories flashed quickly through her mind.
Ivan Vanko, the son of Anton Vanko, wearing rudimentary but lethal electric whip armor, would attack Tony on the track.
This was the beginning of the "Whiplash" incident.
She knew that Tony no longer faced the threat of palladium poisoning, and the new energy core was far from the old model that had been easily destroyed by Whiplash in the movie.
Given Tony's current state and the performance of the Mark 4, even if Ivan Vanko appeared according to the original plan, he probably wouldn't get the upper hand, and might even be counter-killed.
Logically, she didn't need to worry.
But... what if?
What if, because of her appearance, Ivan's preparations were more thorough?
What if Tony was careless on the track?
Moreover, witnessing (or rather, ensuring) the smooth passage of this iconic event seemed good too.
More importantly...
She looked up at Minerva.
Minerva was still standing there quietly, waiting for her decision, her silver-white hair shimmering with a soft luster in the morning light.
They seemed to have not left Long Island for a long time, nor had they gone on a "trip" in the true sense.
Going to New York before was for shopping, going to Stark Tower was for work.
The sun, beaches, ancient streets, and exciting racing in Monaco... it sounded like a real, relaxing trip.
Taking Minerva to see different scenery seemed like a good idea.
"Do you want to go, Minerva?" Artoria asked, her tone carrying a hint of anticipation, "To see the racing, see the Mediterranean, just as... a vacation?"
Minerva's optical sensor seemed to brighten slightly, but her voice remained steady: "My core protocol is to protect your safety and satisfy your wishes.
If you wish to go, I will ensure the trip is safe and comfortable, and assist you in handling any possible matters.
I have already begun initial retrieval of Monaco's security environment, potential risk points, and the safety regulations of the racing venue."
A typical Minerva-style answer, but Artoria could feel, beneath that calm surface, a faint trace of "data interest" in the "new environment" and "traveling with Artoria."
Perhaps taking her out for a walk, to see the lively, noisy, and hedonistic side of this World outside of fighting and protecting, would also be good for the growth of her "heart."
"Then reply to Tony that we accept the invitation," Artoria smiled, "Tell him we are going to enjoy the sun and racing in Monaco, and by the way, see if his new toy will break down on the track.
Looking after him? That's just by the way."
"Message sent." Minerva nodded, then immediately began to operate her personal terminal quickly, "Booking flights, planning routes, retrieving information on local safe houses and medical resources in Monaco, upgrading travel gear... Artoria, do you have a preference for the hotel floor or room view?"
Watching Minerva, who had instantly entered "efficient travel planning mode," Artoria couldn't help but smile.
This was her Minerva, always thinking ahead of her, keeping everything well-arranged.
Three days later, Monaco, Monte Carlo.
The Mediterranean sun was hot and bright, making the ancient port, luxury hotels, and winding race track shine.
The air was filled with a unique mix of salty sea air, high-end perfume, and gasoline.
The streets were crowded with well-dressed tourists, fanatical car fans, and ubiquitous camera flashes.
Tony Stark was undoubtedly one of the focal points here.
He was wearing a flashy wine-red racing suit, sunglasses on, surrounded by a crowd of bodyguards and Happy, walking towards the pit lane, waving to the cheering crowds and cameras along the way, his smile flamboyant.
The position on his chest where the reactor should have been slightly bulging was now perfectly covered by the racing suit, showing no abnormalities.
He looked like an eccentric billionaire, genius inventor, and playboy just here for fun, enjoying the thrill brought by speed and adrenaline.
Artoria and Minerva were much more low-key.
They stayed in the top-floor suite of the hotel arranged by Tony, which had a great ocean view and a view overlooking part of the track.
Artoria changed into a light goose-yellow dress, wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat, looking like a leisurely rich girl.
Minerva was in a simple beige trouser suit, her silver hair tied in a low ponytail, tan flat glasses covering her optical sensor, following quietly by Artoria's side.
Her temperament was cold and detached, out of place with the noisy environment, yet strangely inconspicuous—as if she were just a shadow of protection.
They did not go to the crowded pit lane or VIP stands, but chose to sit at an outdoor coffee shop in the middle section of the track, which was relatively less crowded but had a wide view.
Minerva ordered a local specialty mint tea for Artoria, and a glass of water for herself (purely to fit in).
Little Ai Classmate's core cube was disguised as an exquisite jewelry box, placed in Artoria's handbag, keeping silent but continuously scanning the surrounding communication signals and energy fluctuations.
"He looks to be in good shape." Artoria sipped her tea, looking at Tony, who was chatting and laughing with the team engineers in the distant pit lane.
"Physiological index monitoring (via limited data shared by Jarvis) shows it is normal, emotional index is high, consistent with the characteristics of participating in high-risk entertainment activities," Minerva reported calmly.
"The core components of the Mark 4 armor have arrived via special channels and are stored in the track safe house, guarded personally by Happy, with remote monitoring by Jarvis.
Ivan Vanko, son of Anton Vanko, entered the country yesterday with forged documents, and his current whereabouts have lost effective tracking in the casino area.
The luggage he carried passed airport X-ray inspection with abnormal metal part reactions, but was declared as 'custom car repair tools.' Risk assessment: Medium-High.
It is recommended to increase the indirect monitoring level for Mr. Tony Stark."
Artoria nodded.
Minerva's preparation work was always impeccable.
Ivan had indeed come, and it seemed that, just like the original plot, he had chosen this place as the stage.
"Don't be too nervous, Minerva." Artoria put down her teacup and looked at the track reflecting dazzling light under the sun.
"We are here for a vacation today. Watch the racing, drink some tea. By the way... watch a play.
Since Tony dared to come and specially invited us, perhaps he has made preparations himself.
Let's just treat it as watching a... special performance."
Her words implied something.
Minerva's optical sensor turned to her, seemingly understanding the meaning in her words, and she nodded slightly, but her body posture remained alert, ready to handle any sudden situation at any time.
The race was about to begin, and the roar of engines, like the growl of a Beast, echoed through the valley.
From where Artoria and Minerva were, they could clearly see the racing cars whistling past from the end of the straight road below like colorful lightning, bringing a wave of scorching heat and a deafening roar.
Artoria squinted slightly, enjoying this pure sensory stimulation brought by speed.
Minerva was more focused on the surrounding environment, as well as some real-time data inside Tony's racing car synchronized from Jarvis via an encrypted channel (heart rate, G-force tolerance, etc.).
Everything was proceeding according to plan.
Tony's driving skills were better than he boasted, weaving freely through the traffic, drawing bursts of exclamations from the audience.
Artoria could even see the smile mixed with focus and enjoyment on his face when he went through the corners.
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