Lin Xiao stood by the window, his fingers unconsciously tapping the sill. The starlight of the simulated night sky reflected in his eyes as scattered points of light. The communicator screen had gone dark; Su Ying's reply had already arrived. He turned back to the desk, took the metal key from his inner pocket, and examined it carefully beneath the desk lamp. The patterns cast subtle shifting shadows in the light, while the engraved numerical code stood out clear and deep. Outside the window—outside the virtual window—a "shooting star" streaked across the night sky, trailing a brief tail of light. Lin Xiao closed the key in his palm, its icy touch gradually replaced by his body heat. He needed to find an absolutely secure place to examine the "old things" Fletcher had left behind. But before that, he had to make sure Su Ying could understand what she was about to see—not the whole truth, but at least enough for her to keep moving forward at his side. Faint footsteps came from the corridor outside, drawing nearer. Lin Xiao slipped the key back into his inner pocket, composed his expression, and waited for the knock.
There came three knocks, evenly spaced.
"Come in."
The door opened, and Su Ying entered. She wore training clothes, the dark gray fabric marked by several darker patches of sweat. Her hair was tied into a neat ponytail behind her head, with a few loose strands clinging to her temples. Her breathing had steadied, though her cheeks still carried the flush of exertion. The distinctive smell of the training ground—rubber mixed with sweat—followed her into the room, briefly mingling with the scent of electronic equipment in the office.
"What is it?" Su Ying closed the door and walked to the desk. Her gaze swept over its surface before settling on Lin Xiao's face, keenly catching the unusual focus in his eyes.
Rather than answer immediately, Lin Xiao took a palm-sized black metal box from the drawer. It bore no markings, only a ring of dense cooling vents around its edges. He pressed a button on the side. The lid slid open silently, revealing a complex array of ports and a small display screen within.
"This is the base's highest-level portable data isolation terminal," Lin Xiao explained. "It has an independent power source and is physically cut off from all wireless signals. It can only read storage devices through a wired connection. The moment it detects any attempt by an outside signal to access it, it triggers a self-destruct protocol."
Su Ying raised an eyebrow slightly. She had seen plenty of classified equipment, but not much designed so extremely. "What are you looking at?"
Lin Xiao took the key from his inner pocket and set it on the desk. The metal reflected a hard, cold gleam under the lamp. "Fletcher gave it to me. He said it contained some 'old things' that might be useful to us."
"Fletcher?" There was obvious wariness in Su Ying's voice. "That bureaucratic supervisor? He suddenly decided to be generous?"
"He changed," Lin Xiao said shortly. "Or rather, certain things forced out who he really was. I still don't fully understand why, but when he gave me the key... it felt like he was entrusting his final affairs to me."
Su Ying fell silent for several seconds, her eyes shifting between the key and Lin Xiao. At last, she nodded. "What do you need me to do?"
"I need you here," Lin Xiao said. "As a witness, and as... insurance. If there's a trap in the key, or if the reading process triggers an alarm, I need someone who can react immediately."
"Understood." Su Ying went to the door and locked it from the inside. Then she returned to the desk, pulled over a chair, and sat down. Her posture was relaxed, but she could explode into action at any moment. Her hands rested naturally on her knees, her fingertips only inches from the dagger hidden along the outside of her thigh.
Lin Xiao inserted the key into the terminal's dedicated port. It fit perfectly, the metal making a soft click as it connected. The terminal screen lit up, and a blue progress bar began to move slowly. The only sounds left in the room were the terminal's low cooling fan and their faint breathing.
Three minutes later, the progress bar finished.
A simple directory interface appeared on the screen, listing three folders: [Documents], [Data], and [Equipment]. Each folder was labeled with its storage capacity and last modified date—the earliest file dated back fifteen years.
Lin Xiao opened the [Documents] folder first.
Inside were dozens of scanned documents. The resolution was low, and some pages still bore shadows left by the scanner around their edges. He opened the first one, and a hand-drawn chart appeared on the screen. It had been drawn in black ink, with neat but somewhat rigid lines, clearly a product of many years ago. At the center was written, "Hydra Internal Factional Relations (1998–2003)." More than a dozen branches radiated outward, each ending in a name, position, and brief note.
"White—Radical Faction. Advocates accelerated infiltration. Connected to the Winter Plan."
"Pierce—moderate faction. Long-term infiltration strategy. Controls S.H.I.E.L.D. resources."
"Lister—technical faction. Focuses on biological modification. Has private contact with A.I.M."
"Arnim Zola, post-digitization—algorithm faction. Advocates controlling society through data. No physical body remaining."
Lin Xiao scrolled down, and the chart expanded with further details. Some of the names were familiar—Alexander Pierce, Hydra's highest-ranking infiltrator within S.H.I.E.L.D.; Arnim Zola, the mad scientist who had digitized his consciousness. Others were unfamiliar, but the notes beside them were chilling: "Participated in Eastern European human trafficking networks," "Arms dealings with Ten Rings," "Conducting illegal human experiments in Africa."
"This is..." Su Ying's suppressed shock came from beside him. "Hydra's internal structure?"
"Not just that." Lin Xiao zoomed in on one corner of the chart and pointed to a connection marked with a red dotted line. "Look here. The White faction and the Lister faction are secretly cooperating, but the note says, 'Cooperation strained. White attempting to absorb Lister's biological modification project.' That means Hydra isn't a unified block. Its factions are fighting one another too."
He continued through the other files. Several were investigative summaries concerning S.H.I.E.L.D.'s early structure, recording its initial departmental setup, personnel structure, and resource allocation. The information itself was not especially classified, but some of the annotations mixed in were highly valuable: "Howard Stark suspected of retaining some Tesseract research materials rather than turning them over," "Peggy Carter expressed concern in her later years over S.H.I.E.L.D.'s direction," "Multiple early recruits had questionable identities."
But what truly made Lin Xiao's breath catch was the final document.
It was a scan of a yellowed sheet of paper, its edges scorched. The writing had blurred somewhat with age. Its title was just one line: "Record of Rumors Regarding Project TAHITI (Unofficial Source)." The body was brief, more like an intelligence summary:
"According to an unreliable source, S.H.I.E.L.D. maintains an extremely classified project codenamed 'TAHITI.' The project involves a form of 'life restoration technology,' reportedly connected to alien evidence recovered in 1945. Security level: 10, highest level. The circle of those informed is extremely limited. All related records are stored in physically isolated storage and are not connected to any network. Note: This technology is suspected to have severe side effects and may cause mental collapse or memory disorder in test subjects."
Beside the passage was Fletcher's handwritten note: "Suspected resurrection technology. Extremely high classification. Connected to alien evidence? Requires further verification, but risk is too great. Postpone."
The room was so quiet that the hum of the terminal fan could be heard.
Su Ying stared at the screen, her brow tightly furrowed. "Project TAHITI... resurrection technology? It sounds like science fiction."
"It isn't science fiction." Lin Xiao's voice was soft, but every word was clear. "S.H.I.E.L.D. really has such a project. And... they succeeded."
He did not continue. In his memories, Agent Phil Coulson had died during the Battle of New York, only to be resurrected by Project TAHITI. The process had been painful, and the side effects severe, but it had worked. This document confirmed the value of Fletcher's intelligence—and another fact as well: Fletcher's position within Hydra ran far deeper than he had let on. Otherwise, he could never have accessed rumors of this level.
"Keep going," Su Ying said, her voice more solemn now.
Lin Xiao closed the documents folder and opened [Data].
Inside were virtual images of three encrypted hard drives, each requiring its own password. Fortunately, Fletcher had left a text file in the key's storage space containing three sixteen-character passwords. Lin Xiao entered them one by one.
Once the first hard drive unlocked, a global map appeared on the screen. Hundreds of red dots densely covered it, each marked with a brief code and date. Lin Xiao zoomed in on Europe and randomly opened a coordinate in Berlin. Detailed information popped up: "Safehouse codename: Nightingale. Activation date: March 1997. Last maintenance record: November 2005. Status: suspected abandoned. Note: three underground levels, stocked with basic survival supplies and communications equipment. Entrance disguised as an old bookstore."
"Hydra's Global Safehouse Network," Su Ying murmured. "Some may no longer be operational, but as long as we have the coordinates, we can send people to verify them."
Lin Xiao scrolled across the map. Red dots covered every continent—New York, London, Moscow, Tokyo, Cairo, Rio de Janeiro... Some were marked "active," some "dormant," and more were labeled "abandoned" or "status unknown." Even so, the value of this coordinate list was immeasurable. It meant the Continental Hotel could establish footholds across the world at high speed, making use of those existing facilities and saving enormous amounts of time and resources.
The second hard drive contained transaction records. Spanning from the 1990s to the early 2000s, they documented Hydra's dealings with numerous underground organizations. The most frequently appearing name was The Hand—an ancient ninja organization involved in arms, drugs, and human trafficking. The transactions covered everything from Vibranium smuggling to biochemical weapon materials, hired assassins to intelligence exchanges. Every record carefully listed the time, place, representatives on both sides, and specific descriptions of the goods or services involved.
"Look here." Lin Xiao pointed to one entry. "In 2002, Hydra, represented by White, purchased 'twelve genetically modified children' from The Hand, represented by Madame Gao. The stated purpose was 'reserve personnel for the Winter Plan.'"
Su Ying clenched her fists. Her knuckles turned white from the force.
"And here." Lin Xiao scrolled down. "In 2005, Hydra supplied The Hand with 'three cases of Extremis Virus prototype samples' in exchange for 'preliminary coordinates for the entrance to K'un-Lun.'"
"K'un-Lun?" Su Ying asked.
"A legendary place." Lin Xiao did not elaborate. "What matters is that these records prove Hydra and The Hand have maintained a long-term, deeply rooted partnership. If we have to deal with The Hand in the future, this information will help us predict their patterns of action and resource channels."
The third hard drive was the smallest, but its contents concerned Lin Xiao the most.
It contained several audio files with garbled filenames, ranging from thirty seconds to two minutes in length. Lin Xiao opened the first one.
The audio began with a crackle of static, followed by a heavily distorted voice—one that sounded as though it came through a voice changer, mechanical and flat in tone. "...The foundational model of the Zola Algorithm has passed testing. After inputting global conflict data from the past seventy years, prediction accuracy has reached 92.3 percent. The next step is to connect it to real-time surveillance networks, including satellites, cameras, communications records, social media..."
Another similarly altered voice interrupted, though its tone was more urgent. "The risk is too great. Once the algorithm begins independently identifying 'potential threats,' how do we ensure it doesn't classify us as targets as well?"
The first voice replied, "The algorithm has a whitelist. All Hydra members and associated personnel fall within the exemption range. As for everyone else... necessary sacrifices are acceptable for the sake of a greater order."
"But what about S.H.I.E.L.D.? Nick Fury won't just stand by while we build a global surveillance system."
"That is why we need Project Insight. Three Helicarriers equipped with directed-energy weapons, hovering in low Earth orbit. Once the Zola Algorithm identifies a threat, the carriers can locate and eliminate it within minutes. Fury will support it—as long as we package it as a 'global counterterrorism defense system.'"
The audio cut off abruptly.
The room fell completely silent.
Su Ying's face darkened. "Project Insight... Helicarriers... global surveillance and instant elimination... they're insane."
"They aren't insane." Lin Xiao closed the audio file, his voice icy. "That is Hydra's logic. To create their so-called 'order,' they can sacrifice anyone and monitor everyone. The Zola Algorithm will analyze every person's behavior patterns, social relationships, and ideological tendencies, then predict whether that person may someday 'threaten social stability.' Once marked as a threat, the Helicarriers will fire energy beams from orbit and erase them instantly."
He opened another audio clip. This one was shorter, only twenty seconds.
"...The Winter Soldier's condition is unstable. The brainwashing procedure requires regular reinforcement, otherwise memory fragments may resurface. Recommend increasing the frequency of electric shocks, or consider using new chemical agents..."
"Bucky Barnes," Su Ying said quietly. She had clearly heard the name before. "Captain America's best friend. He fell from a cliff during World War II and was presumed lost, but Hydra actually turned him into an assassin."
Lin Xiao did not answer. He merely watched the screen in silence, looking at the audio file icons. Those fragmented recordings confirmed far too much—the early conception of Project Insight, the existence of the Zola Algorithm, the continued control of the Winter Soldier. Why had Fletcher preserved them? For self-protection? Or to use this information as leverage at some critical moment?
He closed the data folder and opened the final one, [Equipment].
Inside were several photographs of old agent equipment: a Walther PPK pistol, worn but well maintained; a miniature camera and recording device no larger than buttons; several passports from different countries, all bearing pictures of Fletcher in his younger days but under different names; and a ring whose face could be flipped open to reveal a sharp blade hidden inside.
"They're all old things," Lin Xiao said. "But they've been kept in excellent condition. Things Fletcher used in his younger days."
He shut down the terminal and removed the key. The screen went dark, leaving only the glow of the desk lamp in the room. Outside, the simulated starry sky had switched to dawn mode, a false pale light spreading along the edge of the deep blue canopy.
How much time had passed? Lin Xiao looked at the clock on the wall—3:17 a.m. He had been sitting there for nearly four hours.
He rose and rolled his stiff neck and shoulders. His bones gave a few soft cracks. Then he began organizing the documents on the desk—stacking the printed factional relations chart, S.H.I.E.L.D. summary, and Project TAHITI scan neatly together; sorting the notes on safehouse coordinates and transaction records; writing the key points concerning Project Insight and the Winter Soldier on separate sticky notes.
The entire process was slow and focused. His fingertips brushed the rough surface of the paper, feeling the slight raised texture left by the ink. His mind worked at high speed, integrating, analyzing, and archiving the fragmented information. Project TAHITI confirmed S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hidden trump card; the safehouse coordinates provided a foundation for global expansion; the transaction records exposed Hydra's dark network; and the Project Insight audio pointed to the catastrophe that had to be stopped in the future.
But all of it pointed to the same question: how could he explain to Su Ying why a peripheral Hydra officer cared so deeply about top-level secrets like these? Why did his plans always so precisely target the greatest threats of the future?
He had not yet found an answer.
The door was gently pushed open.
Lin Xiao looked up. Su Ying walked in carrying a cup of coffee. Steam curled from its rim, forming a hazy column in the glow of the desk lamp. The bitter aroma of coffee instantly spread through the room, mingling with the scent of ink and the plastic smell of electronic equipment. She was no longer wearing training clothes, having changed into a dark casual outfit. Her hair draped over her shoulders, the tips still damp from a shower.
"You haven't slept?" Su Ying set the coffee beside Lin Xiao's hand, the base of the cup making a soft tap against the desk.
"Some things needed sorting out," Lin Xiao said, taking the coffee. The cup was warm, the heat passing through the ceramic into his palm. He took a sip. The bitter liquid slid down his throat, bringing a brief moment of clarity.
Su Ying did not sit. She stood beside the desk, her gaze passing over the scattered documents, the sticky notes filled with writing, and the metal key lying quietly at the corner of the desk. Her eyes lingered on each item for a moment before moving on, finally settling on Lin Xiao's face.
The room was quiet. The low hum of the ventilation system was the only background noise. The "sky" beyond the simulated window gradually brightened, false morning light filtering through the glass and casting pale blue rectangular patches across the floor.
After a long while, Su Ying spoke softly.
"You know far more than a peripheral Hydra officer should know, Lin Xiao."
Her voice was calm. There was no interrogation, no suspicion, only a statement of fact. Yet every word was like a fine needle, gently piercing the long-maintained calm in the room.
Lin Xiao set down his coffee. Ceramic struck the desk with a crisp sound.
Su Ying continued, her gaze clear and direct. It no longer held only a warrior's sharpness; there was also a measure of inquiry and deeply buried concern.
"From the very beginning, you knew White was a problem. You knew which people in the base belonged to the Radical Faction. You made arrangements in advance, purged the internal ranks, and built the prototype of the Continental Hotel. Meeting Fletcher wasn't an accident—it was planned. And now, you have these—" She pointed at the documents on the desk. "Information involving S.H.I.E.L.D.'s highest secrets, Hydra's internal structure, the Global Safehouse Network, even... resurrection technology and the Helicarrier project."
She paused and took a deep breath.
"What exactly... are you planning? Or rather, what are you planning all this for?"
The question hung in the air like a slowly descending blade.
Lin Xiao looked at Su Ying. The desk lamp shone in from the side, casting soft shadows across her face. Her eyes were dark brown in the light, and deep in her pupils was his reflection. There was confusion there, concern, anticipation, and something he rarely saw in her eyes—trust, and the unease that lay behind it.
She was not interrogating a suspicious companion.
She was asking someone she was willing to trust, yet could not fully understand.
Lin Xiao opened his mouth, wanting to say something. Explain? Conceal? Confess? Countless answers flashed through his mind, and each carried a price. Every one of them might change the fragile trust that had only just formed between them.
But in the end, he merely remained silent.
The simulated morning light beyond the window grew brighter still. The false sun was about to "rise," and a new day was about to begin—in this base buried deep underground, in this world filled with lies and conspiracies.
And the answer still needed time.
Before you continue