Stark's "Invitation"

Lin Xiao released Su Ying's hand and walked to the encrypted terminal. The screen was dark, but the channel marker Stark had forcibly broken into still flashed in the corner like a silent warning. He pulled up the compiled file on the Extremis Virus, his finger hovering above the send button. Outside the simulated window, night had fully fallen, and the "starry sky" had appeared once more, false and tranquil. Su Ying stood at his side, breathing steadily, her gaze fixed on the screen. Nightingale's footsteps drew closer along the hallway outside the door; she had brought a status report on the backup systems. Lin Xiao took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the cool air of the underground facility. Then he pressed send.

The file was encrypted, divided, and sent through seven relays to the locked channel.

There was no additional message, no signature—only a timestamp: now.

Then he shut down the terminal and unplugged it. Only the desk lamp remained lit in the room, along with the breathing of three people waiting.

Time flowed in silence. Every second stretched out and expanded. Lin Xiao could hear his own heartbeat, steady but slightly faster than usual. He could smell the faint, mint-like scent of cleanser on Su Ying, the body wash uniformly issued by the base. He could feel the nearly imperceptible vibrations coming through the metal floor beneath his feet—the base's air circulation system was running. The desk lamp cast sharp shadows across the tabletop, and the shadows along the edges of the documents swayed gently with the slightest tremble of the light.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

"He received it," Lin Xiao suddenly said, his voice especially clear in the silence. "If he wants to reply, he should have already..."

Before he could finish—

The encrypted terminal—the terminal that had already been unplugged—suddenly lit up on its own.

It was not a normal startup screen, but a pure, blinding white. Then the white began to twist and spin, forming a vortex. At its center, a line of text slowly emerged, not typed through a keyboard, but as if someone were writing directly onto the screen with an invisible pen:

"Interesting. But not enough."

The lettering was elegant handwriting, carrying a certain irreverent flourish.

The air in the room froze instantly.

A chill ran down Lin Xiao's spine. It was not fear, but the instinctive alertness that came when facing a threat completely beyond expectation. He forced himself to remain where he was, neither retreating nor making any defensive move. Su Ying's hand was already on the grip of the gun at her waist, her knuckles faintly white. Nightingale sucked in a sharp breath and took half a step back, staring fixedly at the screen. Her lips moved soundlessly, as if repeating the words, "Impossible."

Tony Stark had not merely received their message.

He had bypassed the defenses of a physically disconnected device and displayed text directly on a terminal with no power.

What did that mean?

It meant that the technology Stark possessed—or rather, the technology his artificial intelligence, JARVIS, possessed—had already surpassed Lin Xiao's understanding of this era's technological level. It meant that the encryption, relays, and physical isolation they believed had kept them safe might all be useless before Stark. It meant...

"Stay calm," Lin Xiao said, his voice steadier than he had expected. "He's only showing off his strength. A... way of saying hello."

He walked over to the terminal. The words on the screen began to change as new text covered the old:

"I know who you are. Or rather, I know what you are not—you are neither formal Hydra members nor registered S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. You are a group of... intelligent people operating outside the system."

Lin Xiao's pupils contracted slightly.

Stark knew more than he had expected.

"Extremis is a problem. I've been monitoring A.I.M.'s network activity for three months. Their data flow showed abnormal fluctuations two weeks ago, their encryption patterns changed, and their transmission routes gained seven additional relay layers—very similar to what you just used, though less refined."

The text continued to appear, as though delivering a calm, unhurried one-sided speech.

"I followed the fluctuations to several nodes. One of them suddenly became active three days ago, beginning to receive and transmit large quantities of biologically related data under secondary encryption. I cracked the outer layer and saw keywords like 'Extremis,' 'heat source,' and 'instability.' Then I traced the signal source and found this channel of yours."

"You're monitoring A.I.M. Or are you some A.I.M. branch that got caught up in an internal conflict?"

Lin Xiao's mind raced. Stark's chain of reasoning was clear: he had been watching A.I.M. for some time, discovered signs of the Extremis Virus, and then followed the network activity to their channel. And because of their previous handling of the Fletcher Key and the establishment of the Continental Hotel communications network, their channel had indeed produced a great deal of data traffic. Though it had been encrypted and disguised, it might still have exposed flaws before someone with Stark's level of technology.

More importantly, Stark had misjudged their identities.

He believed they were A.I.M. insiders, or another organization monitoring A.I.M.

That was an opportunity.

And a trap.

"Reply to him," Lin Xiao told Nightingale. "Use the backup channel. Highest-level encryption. Activate physical isolation mode."

Nightingale's fingers were trembling, but she quickly sat before another terminal. It was connected to an independent power supply and network, surrounded by lead shielding. She began to operate it, the keyboard clicks especially crisp in the silence.

Lin Xiao dictated:

"We are not A.I.M. We are people who saw danger coming. The Extremis Virus will spiral out of control. Dr. Killian's objective is not treatment, but creating 'ultimate soldiers.' The virus's heat source is unstable. Within three weeks, the first large-scale experimental accident will occur at Warehouse Seven in Miami's port district."

He paused.

"The evidence is on abandoned Hammer Industries servers. Access route: Alpha-Seven-Delta. It is leftover data from the early cooperation between A.I.M. and Hammer Industries. The servers were forgotten after Hammer collapsed, but the data remains."

Nightingale encrypted the information and sent it.

This time, they waited longer.

Fifteen minutes.

The desk lamp's light began to feel harsh. Lin Xiao walked to the simulated window. The "starry sky" outside continued to flicker falsely. He recalled information he had seen in his previous life: the first public exposure of the Extremis Virus had indeed come during an experimental accident in Miami. A volunteer injected with the virus lost control and exploded, causing minor casualties. That incident had drawn Stark's attention and exposed Aldrich Killian's ambitions.

But that had happened in 2013.

It was only the beginning of 2012 now.

Would his intervention, the information he had sent Stark, bring that event forward? Would it change its scale? Would it...

"The butterfly effect."

For the first time, those words weighed on his heart with such reality.

The screen lit up again.

This time, it was not a white vortex, but a normal reply interface. The text appeared in an ordinary, decrypted format:

"I checked the Hammer Industries servers three hours ago. The route is correct. The data exists. So you're telling the truth—at least that part is true."

"But who you are remains a mystery. Your encryption methods are highly professional, but they do not resemble the style of any known intelligence agency. Your network nodes are spread across seventeen countries, yet the core signal source has never been located—anti-tracking capabilities at that level are beyond ordinary hackers."

"So, let's skip the probing stage."

"I need a complete technical assessment and risk forecast for the Extremis Virus. In exchange, I can provide some... technical support. For example, I could help reinforce that communications network of yours full of holes."

Lin Xiao looked at the text, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

It was not a smile, but the expression of a chess player seeing an opponent make an expected move.

Stark was proposing a deal.

Technical support in exchange for intelligence.

But what lay behind it? Sincere intent to cooperate, or another form of probing? Would Stark plant a backdoor while "reinforcing" their network? Would he use this deal to pinpoint their location completely?

"He wants more," Su Ying said softly. "He wants to know exactly how much we know."

"Yes." Lin Xiao nodded. "But the price he's offering is tempting too. If we can obtain Stark's technical support, the Continental Hotel's network security will rise by several levels. And..."

And if this deal succeeded, it would mean they had established some kind of connection with Tony Stark.

A potentially informal alliance.

That would be an enormous bargaining chip in the future.

"What about the risk?" Su Ying asked.

"It's high," Lin Xiao said frankly. "Stark may sincerely want to cooperate, or he may be trying to draw us out. But either way, we need to make a choice—continue hiding and give up this opportunity, or take the risk of contact and fight for this potential ally."

He returned to the table, lightly tapping his fingers against its surface.

"Nightingale, reply to him: We can provide the technical assessment, but we need time to organize it. As a gesture of good faith, we can first provide one key piece of information: Dr. Killian has an opponent within A.I.M. named Maya Hansen. She is one of the co-developers of the Extremis Virus, but she opposes its militarization. She is currently a visiting professor at the California Institute of Technology and under surveillance. If Mr. Stark wants to know more, he can start with her."

"Also, regarding the technical support: we accept, but it must go through an intermediary node. We will provide an encrypted data package containing a 'limited model' of our network architecture. Mr. Stark can provide reinforcement proposals based on that model, and we will implement them ourselves."

"Finally, add one line: We are not enemies. At least where stopping the Extremis Virus is concerned, we share the same goal."

Nightingale quickly typed, encrypted, and sent the message.

This time, the reply came quickly.

"Maya Hansen. I know her. We met at the 1999 Bern Technology Summit in Switzerland. She was researching an early version of Extremis at the time, and I... gave her some false hope."

"An intermediary node works. Send the model to the following address: [a string of encrypted coordinates]. I will reply with reinforcement plans within forty-eight hours."

"As for whether we are enemies—that depends on what you do next."

"Keep the channel open. I will contact you again."

The text disappeared.

The screen went dark.

This time, it truly went dark and did not light up again on its own.

The room fell silent once more, but the atmosphere had changed. The tense feeling of drawn swords and bent bows eased somewhat, replaced by a complicated emotion mingling vigilance and anticipation.

"He accepted," Su Ying said.

"Temporarily accepted," Lin Xiao corrected. "This is only the beginning. Over the next forty-eight hours, we need to prepare that 'limited model.' It must demonstrate enough technical capability for Stark to take us seriously, while revealing neither our true architecture nor our location. Nightingale, can you handle it?"

Nightingale took a deep breath and nodded. Her fingers were no longer trembling, and her eyes had become focused once more.

"Yes. I'll design a model based on the real architecture, but remove all key nodes. I'll raise the encryption to the highest level and add a self-destruct protocol. Once it detects unauthorized deep analysis, the model will automatically erase itself."

"Good," Lin Xiao said. "Also, begin monitoring all public information concerning Maya Hansen. Stark is very likely to contact her, and we need to know what happens."

"Understood."

Nightingale began operating the terminal, and the sound of keystrokes rang out again, this time steady and forceful.

Su Ying walked to Lin Xiao's side and lowered her voice.

"Do you think Stark is trustworthy?"

Lin Xiao looked at the false starry sky outside and was silent for a moment.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "Tony Stark is a genius, but he is also self-centered and unpredictable. He may help us on a whim, or destroy us over a moment of suspicion. But one thing is certain: he hates being deceived, and he hates being used. So as long as we remain honest—at least about the goals we share—there is a possibility of cooperation."

"And we need that possibility," Su Ying said.

"Yes." Lin Xiao turned and looked into her eyes. "The Continental Hotel cannot remain hidden in the shadows forever. We need allies, resources, and technology. Stark is one of the best options among them. This contact, whatever its outcome, is a step we have to take."

He walked to the table and reopened the document outlining the Continental Hotel concept. The desk lamp shone upon the pages, making the handwritten plans, charts, and timelines especially clear amid the light and shadows.

"The storm is coming," Lin Xiao said softly. "But we are not people who wait passively for it to pass. We will build a harbor in the storm, establish order amid chaos, and light a fire in the darkness."

He picked up a pen and added a line to the end of the document:

"February 2012: Establish initial contact with Stark. Objective: obtain technical support and establish an informal intelligence-sharing channel."

The pen scratched across the paper.

Outside the window, the "starry sky" began to move slowly, simulating the passage of real time. Faint mechanical sounds came from deep within the base as the life-support systems changed shifts. The breeze from the air circulation system carried a faint scent of ozone, stirring the scattered papers on the table.

Lin Xiao set down the pen and looked at Su Ying.

"The next forty-eight hours will be critical. We need to make sure the model is properly prepared, monitor developments around Maya Hansen, and continue advancing the Continental Hotel's foundational work—the selection of safehouse locations, preliminary personnel screening, the formulation of operational protocols..."

"Let's divide the work," Su Ying said. "I'll handle operations. On-site inspections of safehouses, background checks on potential personnel, and planning of basic defensive facilities."

"Nightingale will handle the technical side. Model preparation, network monitoring, and intelligence gathering."

"And you," she said, looking at Lin Xiao, "will handle strategy. Analyze every move Stark makes, predict his intentions, and formulate responses."

Lin Xiao nodded.

It was the most reasonable division of labor. Su Ying's ability in the field, Nightingale's technical prowess, and his own strategy—only by combining the three could they handle the complicated situation before them.

"Then let's begin," he said.

Su Ying turned and left the office, her footsteps gradually fading down the corridor. Nightingale was completely absorbed by the terminal screen, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she occasionally muttered encryption algorithm parameters under her breath. Lin Xiao sat back down and reopened the file on the Extremis Virus, carefully sorting through every detail—the virus's biological principles, the physical mechanism behind heat-source instability, Killian's personality traits, A.I.M.'s organizational structure...

Time passed second by second.

The "starry sky" outside gradually dimmed as the simulated "dawn" approached. The desk lamp had begun to heat up from prolonged use, and the edge of its shade was slightly hot. Lin Xiao rubbed his aching eyes, picked up the coffee that had long gone cold, and took a sip. The bitter liquid slid down his throat, bringing a brief moment of clarity.

His gaze fell upon a line in the document:

"Extremis Virus Phase Three test subject, designation 'Reaper,' estimated completion date: May 2012."

Phase Three.

It was the critical stage in which the Extremis Virus would transition from an "unstable biological weapon" into a controllable Super-Soldier Serum. If Killian succeeded, he would be able to create a group of soldiers with regenerative abilities, high-temperature attacks, and bodies that were nearly impossible to kill.

That would be a disaster.

Lin Xiao lightly tapped that line with his fingers.

The information he had sent Stark mentioned only that the virus would lose control and that an experimental accident would occur. He had not mentioned the specific timing of Phase Three. That was intentional—he needed to retain some leverage, and he also needed to observe what Stark would do.

If Stark truly contacted Maya Hansen, if he could prevent the Phase Three development in advance, then the threat of the Extremis Virus would be greatly reduced.

But if he could not...

Lin Xiao closed his eyes.

Fragments of memories from his previous life flashed through his mind: the explosion in Miami's port district, out-of-control test subjects rampaging through the streets, Stark fighting Extremis soldiers in his armor, Pepper Potts being kidnapped, Stark's mansion destroyed by missiles...

Would those events still happen?

In what form would they happen?

What exactly would his intervention change?

He did not know.

The only thing he knew was that he had to keep moving forward. Keep laying plans, keep strategizing, keep placing pieces upon the dark chessboard.

Until one day, he could truly control the game.

Until one day, he could protect everyone he wanted to protect.

Until one day, he could reverse that destined ending.

"Dawn" arrived outside the window.

False sunlight streamed through the simulated window and into the room, dispersing the last traces of shadow left behind by the desk lamp. A new day had begun.

And the storm continued.