Fletcher's Transformation and Entrustment

Lin Xiao turned off the workstation screen, and the room fell into darkness once more. The simulated window had already switched to night mode. A virtual starry sky glittered beyond the "window," while several artificial satellites drifted slowly past. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, but his mind refused to settle. The molecular structure of the blue reagent, the left-handed helical carbon chain, Anna's words—"a predetermined direction of evolution"... These images and words spun and reassembled like fragments. The ventilation system hummed continuously beside him, carrying the distinctive scent of an underground space: metal mixed with ozone. He opened his eyes, and his gaze fell upon the corner of his desk—where the encrypted Communicator Nightingale had just delivered sat, its dark red casing printed with the prototype of the Continental Hotel's golden emblem. Just then, the internal Communicator chimed. He pressed the answer button, and Fletcher's secretary said, "Deputy Supervisor Lin, the supervisor would like you to come to his study now. He says... there is something important to discuss."

Lin Xiao's fingers paused over the desk for a second.

Fletcher's study was in the base's upper residential area, one of the few rooms with real windows. Lin Xiao was rarely invited there—routine reports were usually handled in offices or conference rooms. This private, informal meeting was unusual in itself.

He stood and adjusted the collar of his uniform. The figure in the mirror looked slightly pale, his eyes bloodshot, but his gaze remained sharp. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the chill unique to underground air, then pushed open the door and walked out.

The corridor lights were brighter than usual, clearly in enhanced nighttime illumination mode. Two patrolling guards snapped to attention and saluted when they saw him. Lin Xiao nodded in response. Their footsteps created brief echoes in the empty corridor before the soundproofing swallowed them. As the elevator ascended, Lin Xiao felt a faint sense of weightlessness, along with the subtle sound of metal scraping from within the shaft.

The air in the upper residential area was noticeably different.

Its scent was more complex—leather, old books, cigar tobacco, and a faint incense fragrance resembling sandalwood. Dark carpeting covered the corridor, completely absorbing every footstep. Several landscape oil paintings hung on the walls, their thick solid-wood frames gleaming warmly beneath the soft wall lamps. Lin Xiao stopped before the double doors at the end of the hall. They were made of dark brown solid wood, carved with intricate vine patterns. He raised a hand and knocked.

"Come in," Fletcher's voice called from inside, lower than usual.

Lin Xiao pushed the door open and entered.

The study was larger than he had imagined. Bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling along an entire wall, packed with books in various languages—military theory, history, philosophy, technical literature, even several thread-bound ancient volumes. The opposite wall was a huge floor-to-ceiling window, its curtains currently open to reveal the real night sky. The base had been built in the mountains, at considerable elevation, making the stars especially clear. The Milky Way stretched across the heavens like a hazy band of light. A broad mahogany desk stood in the center of the room, piled with several stacks of documents. A brass desk lamp cast a warm halo of light. Fletcher sat in a high-backed chair behind the desk. He was not wearing his uniform jacket, only a dark gray shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He held a glass of amber liquid, ice cubes clinking softly inside.

"Close the door," Fletcher said without looking up.

Lin Xiao did so. The lock clicked softly.

The study was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of burning wood in the fireplace—a real fireplace, not a simulation. Flickering firelight danced over the walls, filling the room with an ancient, intimate atmosphere. Lin Xiao could smell cigar tobacco, whiskey, old paper, and the resin-scented smoke unique to burning fireplace logs.

"Sit." Fletcher pointed to the chair across from the desk.

Lin Xiao sat down. The chair was genuine leather, giving a faint creak beneath him.

Fletcher finally looked up at Lin Xiao. Under the combined glow of the desk lamp and fireplace, his face looked more weathered than usual. The lines at the corners of his eyes were deeper, the bags beneath them pronounced, and there was a weariness in his eyes Lin Xiao had never seen before—not physical fatigue, but some deeper spiritual exhaustion.

The two were silent for several seconds.

The flames in the fireplace flickered.

"You've been busy lately," Fletcher finally said, his voice calm and unreadable.

"Base security requires attention, and I also have some... personal projects," Lin Xiao answered cautiously.

Fletcher lifted his glass and took a sip. The ice clinked again, crisp and clear. He set the glass down, lightly rubbing a finger along its rim.

"Lin," he said, his tone suddenly unusually direct, "I know what you've been doing."

Lin Xiao's breathing did not change, but his muscles tensed slightly.

"I'm not blind." Fletcher continued, his gaze fixed on Lin Xiao's face. "The safehouse applications, irregularities in supply transfers, encryption upgrades to the communication channels... and the people under you have been much more active lately. If I couldn't see even that, I would have wasted all these years as supervisor."

He paused and took another drink.

"But I didn't stop you."

Those words made Lin Xiao raise his eyes.

Fletcher met his gaze. Complex emotions surged in those tired eyes—helplessness, disappointment, and a composure that was almost relief.

"I'm old, Lin," he said, his voice growing heavier. "And I've seen through it all. Hydra has been rotten inside for a long time. Factional infighting, twisted ideals. When we joined, we thought we were fighting for a greater order... but what is left now? Power struggles, exchanges of interest, and extremist schemes devised by madmen."

He set down his glass, leaned back in his chair, and looked up at the ceiling. Firelight cast shifting shadows across his face.

"Your New Order..." he said slowly. "Maybe it's right. At least it would be better than this. At least... it still has a trace of idealism."

Lin Xiao said nothing. He observed and analyzed. Fletcher's words had come too suddenly, too candidly, making him even more wary. Was this a test? Or some more complicated trap?

"You don't need to doubt me." Fletcher seemed to see through his thoughts and shook his head with a bitter smile. "I'm not testing you. I'm just... tired. I've sat in this position for over a decade, watching the organization deteriorate bit by bit, watching those who truly had ideals get pushed out, assimilated, or... disappear."

He straightened up, folding his hands on the desk.

"Lin, you're a smart man. Smarter than most people in this base. You have ideas, the ability to act, and... you seem to know things we don't." His gaze sharpened. "I won't ask where you learned them, nor will I ask what exactly you intend to do. I'll only say this: within my ability, I can provide cover and resources. That Continental Hotel prototype of yours... as long as it doesn't cause too much trouble, I can tacitly allow it to develop under the base's shadow."

Lin Xiao's heart skipped a beat.

Fletcher even knew the name Continental Hotel.

"How did you—" Lin Xiao began.

"Nightingale's encrypted communications may be impressive, but the base's main control system is ultimately in my hands." Fletcher cut him off. "I saw the abnormal distribution of data traffic and activation records from several peripheral nodes. Along with your recent behavior patterns... it wasn't hard to guess."

He paused, his tone turning serious.

"But I must warn you, Lin. Headquarters runs deep, and people like White are merely the tip of the iceberg. The more ability you display, the more people will want to use you or eliminate you. Hydra has never been a united whole. It is more like a pack of sharks—they swarm at the scent of blood. You're still small, not fat enough yet, so they are only watching. But if you continue expanding like this..."

He did not finish, but the meaning was clear enough.

Lin Xiao was silent for a moment before saying, "Thank you for the warning, Supervisor."

"Don't thank me." Fletcher waved a hand. "I'm only making an... investment. Or perhaps leaving myself a way out."

He picked up the bottle and poured himself a little more whiskey. The amber liquid swayed in the glass, ice cubes rising and sinking.

"Also..." He lowered his voice and leaned forward. "I've received word that things have been unsettled at S.H.I.E.L.D. lately as well."

Lin Xiao's attention immediately sharpened.

"What word?"

"I don't know the specifics, but I still have a few old connections in the S.H.I.E.L.D. system." Fletcher lowered his voice further, until it was nearly a whisper. "They revealed that a major S.H.I.E.L.D. project has gone wrong. Its security classification is extremely high; even among senior leadership, only a handful know all the details. Supposedly... a legendary figure is about to 'wake up.'"

A legendary figure was about to "wake up"?

A name immediately flashed through Lin Xiao's mind—Captain America.

The Timeline really was moving forward.

According to the timetable he remembered, Captain America should have been discovered in 2011 and formally awakened before the Battle of New York in 2012. But now, it seemed the discovery might have happened earlier, or at least S.H.I.E.L.D. had already begun related preparations internally.

"A legendary figure?" Lin Xiao asked, pretending to be puzzled.

"An old relic who should be lying asleep beneath the ice." Fletcher spoke meaningfully. "A hero from World War II, a symbol of the American spirit. If he can 'wake up,' he'll be both an enormous asset and an enormous problem for S.H.I.E.L.D."

He took another sip and continued. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is divided into several factions now. One wants to use him as a propaganda tool, one wants to study the Super-Soldier Serum in his body, and another... worries that he'll become an uncontrollable factor. In any case, it's a mess over there. For us, that means both opportunity and risk."

"Opportunity?" Lin Xiao asked.

"With S.H.I.E.L.D.'s attention divided, we'll have more room to operate," Fletcher said. "But the risk is that if that old relic really wakes up and stands with S.H.I.E.L.D., many things will become harder in the future. After all... he's someone who truly experienced war, not one of those bureaucrats who only know how to issue orders from an office."

Lin Xiao nodded. Fletcher's analysis was accurate. Though he did not know precisely what changes Captain America's awakening would bring, Fletcher had the broad direction right.

"Thank you for telling me this," Lin Xiao said sincerely.

This time, he truly was grateful. Fletcher's intelligence was limited, but it confirmed a crucial point in the timeline—Captain America's awakening process had begun. That meant the countdown to the Battle of New York had officially started.

"Don't mention it." Fletcher waved a hand, then suddenly laughed. There was bitter self-mockery in that smile. "You know, Lin? Sometimes I think I'm ridiculous. I spent half my life working for Hydra, only to end up helping someone who may overthrow it. But perhaps... that's fate."

He rose and walked to the bookshelves, taking down a wooden box from the top shelf. The box was small and dark brown, its surface marked by fine wood grain. He returned to the desk and placed it before Lin Xiao.

"Open it."

Lin Xiao lifted the lid.

Inside was a metal object—roughly the size of a thumb, cylindrical, with intricate raised and recessed patterns on its surface. It seemed to be made of some kind of alloy, gleaming with a muted silver-gray sheen beneath the light. One end had a miniature port, while the other was engraved with a string of numerical code.

"An encrypted physical key," Fletcher said. "It opens my private vault. The vault isn't in the base. It's in... a safer place."

Lin Xiao picked up the key. It was heavier than it looked, solid and weighty in his hand. The patterns on its surface were exceptionally fine, clearly the product of precision manufacturing.

"What's inside?" Lin Xiao asked.

"Some 'old things,'" Fletcher said. "Things I've collected over the years... souvenirs, you could say. Some documents, several encrypted hard drives, and a few pieces of old equipment. They may be useful to you, or they may not. You'll know after you look."

He paused, his expression becoming especially solemn.

"Lin, remember what I'm about to say." His voice was low and forceful. "In this organization, trust no one. Other than yourself... and the partners you truly trust."

Lin Xiao looked at the key in his hand, then raised his eyes to Fletcher.

At that moment, the old supervisor wore an expression that was almost tragic. It was the expression of someone who knew his days were numbered and had begun arranging his affairs. Lin Xiao suddenly understood—Fletcher was not investing, nor was he looking for an ally. He was entrusting something to him. Entrusting the ideals he had failed to realize, his disappointment in the organization, and his last shred of hope for the future to a young man he believed might be able to change everything.

"I'll remember," Lin Xiao said solemnly.

"Good." Fletcher nodded and sat back down, as though those words had drained all his strength. He lifted his glass, looked at the remaining whiskey, and said softly, "You can go now. From now on... unless necessary, we should meet as little as possible. It will be better for both of us."

Lin Xiao stood and carefully tucked the key into the inner pocket of his uniform. He gave Fletcher a slight nod, then turned toward the door.

The instant his hand closed around the doorknob, Fletcher's voice came from behind him once again.

"Lin."

Lin Xiao turned back.

The fireplace's glow flickered across Fletcher's face, constantly shifting his expression between light and shadow. He looked at Lin Xiao, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he merely waved a hand.

"Take care."

Lin Xiao nodded and pushed the door open.

The corridor remained quiet, the carpet absorbing every footstep. Lin Xiao retraced his path, his fingers lightly rubbing the metal key inside his pocket. Its surface was cold, but after being held for so long, it had begun to absorb his body heat.

As the elevator descended, the sensation of weightlessness returned.

Lin Xiao closed his eyes, replaying everything from the study—Fletcher's exhausted face, the dancing firelight, the ice cubes drifting in the whiskey glass, and those words: "A legendary figure is about to 'wake up.'"

Captain America.

The Battle of New York.

Thanos.

The Timeline was advancing along its predetermined path, but his intervention had already begun to produce effects. The Continental Hotel prototype and Fletcher's transformation were changes that had never existed in the original Timeline. The butterfly's wings had already begun to flap. Where the future would lead, even he, a reincarnator, could not fully predict.

The elevator doors opened, revealing the corridor on the second underground level.

The lights were cold white, the walls smooth, and the air thick with the scent of ozone and metal. This was his battlefield for now—Hydra's outer base, his undercover post in S.H.I.E.L.D., and the birthplace of the Continental Hotel.

Lin Xiao stepped out of the elevator, his footsteps echoing through the corridor.

He needed to inspect the contents of Fletcher's vault as soon as possible. Those "old things" might contain more clues, more resources, more... possibilities.

But before that, he had to do something else.

He entered his office, closed the door, and activated the encrypted Communicator. The screen lit up, and the Continental Hotel emblem emerged in the darkness. He opened the communication list and found Su Ying's channel.

"You there?" he sent.

A few seconds later, a reply came. "At the training ground. What is it?"

"Come back to the office," Lin Xiao typed. "There's important intelligence to share."

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

Lin Xiao turned off the Communicator and walked to the window. The simulated window still displayed a virtual starry sky, but now those glittering points of light were no longer mere decorations in his eyes. Every star could be a battlefield, a threat, a world that needed protecting.

And his path had only just begun.