Lin Xiao set down his empty teacup. The ceramic base tapped softly against the wooden tabletop. Morning light streamed through the window, illuminating the thoughts settled deep in his eyes. A light knock came at the office door, and Nightingale entered with a tablet in her hand, data still scrolling across its screen.
"Mr. Lin," she said, a trace of tension in her voice, "the internal network activity patterns at Stark Industries have begun to change. The frequency of security audits has risen by 300% over the past four hours, and..." She turned the tablet toward Lin Xiao. A complex traffic analysis chart filled the display. "Three anonymous but well-funded accounts are paying premium prices on the dark web for any intelligence related to A.I.M. and Killian."
Lin Xiao rose and walked to the window. The town remained peaceful in the early morning, but he knew the storm's first ripple had already reached the surface.
"When?" he asked calmly.
"Forty-seven hours after the information was sent." Nightingale pulled up the timestamp. "Stark Industries' biotechnology division began its first internal audit at ten last night and launched the second at three in the morning. The audit covers all external partnership projects, supplier databases, and background checks on every researcher who left within the past five years."
Lin Xiao took the tablet, his fingers gliding over the charts. The audit frequency had peaked at four in the morning—the hour when human vigilance was at its lowest. Stark had chosen that time because he did not want to alert too many people, or at least not any possible informants within the company.
"And the dark web intelligence requests?" Lin Xiao asked.
Nightingale opened another interface. The screen displayed the dark-themed page of an intelligence-trading platform on the dark web, with the IDs of three anonymous accounts highlighted. Each account had posted at least five bounties in the past twelve hours, covering keywords such as "Aldrich Killian's recent movements," "locations of A.I.M.'s secret laboratories," and "Extremis Virus research progress."
"The rewards are high," Nightingale said. "Every piece of intelligence is priced at over fifty thousand dollars. The highest—evidence of Killian's contact with extraterrestrial material—is offering two hundred thousand. Payment is in Bitcoin, and the funds have already been placed in the platform's escrow account."
Lin Xiao stared at the bounty requests. The pricing was very Stark—direct, efficient, using money to smash through every possible obstacle. More importantly, the wording was exceptionally professional. Whoever had written it knew far more about A.I.M. and Killian than any ordinary intelligence broker would.
"He listened," Lin Xiao said softly.
He returned the tablet to Nightingale and turned back toward the window. Distant mountains faded in and out through the morning mist, while the sky shone a clear pale blue. Early pedestrians began appearing on the town streets. The bakery door opened, and the scent of fresh bread drifted in on the breeze.
"Keep monitoring," Lin Xiao said. "But do not make contact with those bounties. Stark is like a startled spider right now. Any touch on his web will provoke a response."
"Understood." Nightingale nodded, her fingers moving swiftly across the tablet. "I've placed monitoring tags on the bounty requests. The system will notify us immediately if anyone accepts one or provides intelligence."
She paused before adding, "Also, Stark Industries' cybersecurity team attempted a reverse trace at five this morning. They identified the Wi-Fi node at Berlin Central Station, but the trail ended there. JARVIS should have realized the sender used multiple relay points and an instant-destruction protocol."
Lin Xiao nodded. That was within his expectations. Stark could not possibly refrain from tracing the anonymous sender, but the safeguards Nightingale had put in place were tight enough to delay him for a while.
After Nightingale left the office, Lin Xiao stood by the window for a long time. The sun climbed steadily higher, stretching his shadow across the wooden floor. The office was quiet except for the steady ticking of the wall clock. He caught the scent of coffee drifting through the air—the kitchen downstairs must have begun preparing breakfast—and heard the distant, deep peal of church bells.
Forty-eight hours. Two full days had passed since the information was sent.
During those forty-eight hours, Tony Stark had gone from initial suspicion to launching an investigation, from passively receiving information to taking the initiative. It was faster than Lin Xiao had expected, but it suited Stark's personality even more—the genius, arrogant Tony Stark who could never tolerate being kept in the dark.
Lin Xiao walked to his desk and opened a drawer. Inside lay a handwritten notebook recording his memories of key points in this Timeline. He flipped to the page marked "2013," his finger passing over the words "Extremis Virus Crisis," "Mandarin terrorist attacks," and "destruction of Stark Tower."
Now, those events might never happen. Or perhaps... they would arrive early in another, more dangerous form. The butterfly had already flapped its wings, and the storm was gathering. Lin Xiao could feel that familiar pressure—the heaviness he had felt on the eve of Endgame in his previous life, watching Thanos's fleet approach Earth. But this time, he was no longer an observer. He was the one flapping the wings.
At ten in the morning, Fletcher's encrypted communication request came through.
Lin Xiao accepted the video call. Fletcher's slightly weary face appeared on the screen. He sat in a moving car, city streets sliding past behind him. The shifting light outside the window flickered over the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
"The situation has changed," Fletcher said without preamble, keeping his voice low. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has started moving internally."
Lin Xiao adjusted his earpiece. "What kind of movement?"
"Counter-infiltration reviews," Fletcher said. "Two levels higher than usual. Headquarters has ordered a reexamination of every 'resolved' incident from the past five years, especially cases involving casualties or intelligence leaks. The review team was personally appointed by Fury and bypassed the usual oversight department."
Lin Xiao lightly tapped the desk with his fingers. Once, twice.
"Why?" he asked.
"I don't know." Fletcher shook his head. "But there are several possibilities. First, Stark's movements may have drawn S.H.I.E.L.D.'s attention. Stark Industries is one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s key technology suppliers, after all, so any abnormal activity would be monitored. Second, the missing transport team incident. It was classified as Black-on-Black, but some people in S.H.I.E.L.D. think it was too clean. Unnaturally clean."
He paused and picked up a bottle of water beside him, taking a sip. Lin Xiao could hear the car engine roaring and the faint wail of distant sirens. Fletcher was probably in New York, perhaps on his way to a safe house.
"Third," Fletcher said, setting down the bottle and lowering his voice further, "and this is the most troublesome part—the review list includes the 'Black Widow defection incident.'"
The air in the office seemed to freeze for a moment. Lin Xiao could feel his heart pounding heavily in his chest. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with cold air, then slowly exhaled.
"How far has it gone?" he asked, his voice still steady.
"Archive access has been opened," Fletcher said. "The review team can examine every original record from that mission, including field reports, communication logs, witness statements, even backup files that should have been destroyed."
Lin Xiao closed his eyes. He could imagine the scenes—agents in suits leafing through thick file folders in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s archive rooms; encrypted database records scrolling across computer screens; some sharp analyst noticing a discrepancy in the mission timeline or a subtle flaw in the testimony.
In the S.H.I.E.L.D. records of his previous life, Su Ying's defection had been classified as "a stress response following mission failure, possibly involving psychological trauma." But Lin Xiao knew the truth—it had been a carefully designed Hydra trap meant to eliminate an elite agent who was too upright and too difficult to control. Now, that trap might be reopened.
"Does Fury know?" Lin Xiao asked.
"He should," Fletcher said. "But I'm not sure what his attitude is. Fury... you can never tell what he's thinking. He may truly want to clean out Hydra infiltration, or he may simply be testing the loyalty of personnel within the organization. Or both."
The image on the screen shook as the car apparently turned into an alley. The light dimmed, making Fletcher's face look even more solemn in the shadows.
"I need you to warn Su Ying," he said. "If the review team truly finds something, they may initiate a pursuit protocol. She's in Eastern Europe now, but S.H.I.E.L.D.'s reach is long, especially when it comes to 'traitors.'"
"Understood," Lin Xiao said.
"One more thing." Fletcher hesitated. "I heard there's an analyst called Sitwell on the review team. He's especially interested in Hydra's history. Recently, he pulled a large number of Hydra files from World War II, including Dr. Zola's early research records."
Lin Xiao's pupils contracted slightly.
Jasper Sitwell. Lin Xiao remembered that name—in the original Timeline, this seemingly mild-mannered senior S.H.I.E.L.D. agent had actually been a deeply embedded Hydra operative. He had been one of the key executors of Project Insight, until Captain America exposed his true identity.
Now, Sitwell was investigating Hydra's history. It sounded ironic, but Lin Xiao knew this could be some kind of internal Hydra review procedure—using an "investigation" to erase organizational traces that might expose them, or... identify disobedient pieces on the board.
"Thank you for the intelligence," Lin Xiao said.
"Stay alert," Fletcher said one last time before cutting the connection.
The screen went dark. Silence returned to the office. Lin Xiao sat in his chair, looking at the sun rising outside the window. Light filtered through the glass and cast bright patches across the floor. He could hear impacts from the training ground downstairs—Black Bear was probably leading the new recruits through combat drills—along with faint counting.
Everything looked so normal. But beneath the surface, undercurrents had already begun to surge.
At three in the afternoon, Lin Xiao went to the training ground.
It was an enclosed space converted from an old warehouse, its walls covered with soundproofing material and its floor laid with thick training mats. The air smelled of sweat and rubber, accompanied by the dull sounds of bodies striking punching bags.
Su Ying stood in the middle of the room. She wore a black training suit, her hair tied into a neat ponytail, fine beads of sweat covering her forehead. Her opponents were three simulated combat robots—equipment Artisan had recently modified, their shells covered in biomimetic materials, moving faster than humans and attacking from trickier angles.
Lin Xiao stood at the edge of the training ground without interrupting. He watched Su Ying slip sideways past the first robot's straight punch while kicking the joint connection of the second. A piercing screech of twisting metal rang out, and that robot staggered backward. The third lunged from the side, its mechanical arm whistling toward her head.
Su Ying did not dodge. She charged straight at the arm, crouching into a sliding step at the last moment and passing beneath the robot's armpit. At the same time, she drove a reverse elbow into the control panel on its back. Sparks burst out. The robot froze in place, then crashed to the ground.
The entire exchange took less than five seconds.
The other two robots adjusted their stances, but Su Ying had already opened the distance. She drew two rubber training daggers from her waist, spun them once in her hands, then lunged forward.
The next thirty seconds were a textbook demonstration of close-quarters combat. Lin Xiao watched every movement—precise, efficient, without a single unnecessary flourish. Her breathing rhythm remained steady throughout. Even during her most intense bursts of movement, it never faltered. Sweat dripped from her chin, leaving dark marks on the training mat.
When the final robot had been dismantled into parts, only Su Ying's heavy breathing remained in the training ground. She stood where she was, her chest rising and falling, the back of her training suit soaked through with sweat. Several new recruits at the edge of the room stared in stunned silence, having forgotten even to applaud.
Lin Xiao walked over. Su Ying turned and saw him, a faint smile appearing on her face. It was slight, but her eyes held the satisfaction that came after intense training. She accepted the towel Lin Xiao offered and wiped the sweat from her face.
"Something wrong?" she asked, her voice slightly hoarse from exertion.
"Come to my office," Lin Xiao said.
Su Ying nodded and followed him from the training ground. As they passed through the corridor, several members on break nodded in greeting. Lin Xiao could smell the heat coming off Su Ying's body and the saltiness of her sweat, along with the distinct blend of rubber and metal from the training ground.
Once the office door closed, the world fell quiet. Lin Xiao went to the window and pulled down the blinds. The light was sliced into narrow strips, casting alternating shadows and brightness across the room. He turned to look at Su Ying.
She sat on the sofa, wiping sweat from her neck with the towel. Her training suit clung tightly to her body, outlining the lines of her muscles. Her cheeks were flushed from exercise, and her gaze was bright and focused.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. has begun an internal review," Lin Xiao said directly.
Su Ying's hand paused for an instant. Then she continued, though more slowly. The towel folded and unfolded in her hands before folding again. Her eyes settled on the ceramic ashtray on the coffee table—something Lin Xiao never used, yet had always kept there like a decoration.
"How extensive is the review?" she asked calmly.
"Every 'resolved' case from the last five years," Lin Xiao said. "Including your mission."
The room fell silent for several seconds. Wind drifted through the gaps in the blinds, mingling with the roar of trucks passing along the distant highway. The office clock ticked steadily, every second unusually clear.
Su Ying set down the towel. Her fingers tapped lightly against her knee, a habitual gesture whenever she thought. Lin Xiao could see the small scars on the back of her hand—some old wounds, some left behind by recent training.
"The files?" she asked.
"Completely open for review," Lin Xiao said. "Including original records and backup files."
Su Ying closed her eyes. Her breathing became deep and slow, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Lin Xiao knew she was remembering—remembering the night that had changed her life, the gunshots, the flames, and the sight of her colleagues falling.
"There were three witnesses at the scene," Su Ying said as she opened her eyes, her voice coldly precise. "Two were embedded Hydra agents. Their statements would paint me as a killer who lost control. The third was a genuine S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, but he had been injected with hallucinogens before the mission began. His memory was confused, and his testimony unreliable."
She paused. "I wrote the mission report, but it was altered before submission. Key timestamps were adjusted, and part of the communications record was deleted. I tried to appeal afterward, but every piece of evidence pointed to me being mentally unstable and prone to violence."
Lin Xiao walked over and sat in the chair opposite her. Light through the gaps in the blinds cast mottled shadows across his face. He could see the deeply buried fury in Su Ying's eyes—not an explosive rage, but a cold anger that had settled over time.
"What if the review team notices the inconsistencies?" he asked.
"They'll launch an investigation," Su Ying said. "They'll first try to contact me and demand that I cooperate with questioning. If they cannot reach me, or if I refuse to cooperate, they'll list me as a fugitive suspect and issue an internal warrant. Then... the pursuit protocol begins."
Her voice was calm, as if she were describing something unrelated to herself. Yet Lin Xiao could sense the tension beneath that calm—like a bowstring drawn to its limit, still on the surface while enduring immense strain within.
"Fletcher mentioned a name," Lin Xiao said. "Sitwell. He's on the review team, and he's particularly interested in Hydra's history."
Su Ying frowned. "Jasper Sitwell? That man who is always smiling and likes collecting antique pocket watches?"
"You know him?"
"I've seen him a few times," Su Ying said. "At annual meetings at headquarters. He came across as a mild bureaucrat who liked tea and spoke at an unhurried pace. But once, I saw him reprimanding a junior agent, and his eyes changed completely."
She recalled, "It was in a corridor outside the archives. The agent had misplaced a low-clearance file, and Sitwell called him into a corner. I happened to pass by and heard him say, 'In S.H.I.E.L.D., negligence is betrayal.' His voice was soft, but his tone... was terrifyingly cold."
Lin Xiao nodded. It matched Sitwell's true nature—the Hydra core operative hidden beneath a gentle exterior.
"If he's on the review team," Su Ying said, "then this is even more complicated. He may truly be investigating Hydra, or he may be using the opportunity to eliminate threats. Or... both."
She stood and walked to the window. Through the gaps in the blinds, she could see the town street. Several children kicked a football by the roadside. The bakery owner was wiping down her display window, while a mailman rode from house to house on his bicycle. A peaceful afternoon, one completely cut off from the world of her past.
"Do I need to leave?" Su Ying asked without turning around.
"No," Lin Xiao said.
She turned around. Lin Xiao rose as well and walked to stand before her. They were close enough to hear each other breathe. The light from the blinds formed a boundary of brightness and shadow between them, as though dividing the room into two separate worlds.
"You stay here," Lin Xiao said. "This is our base, our territory. No matter how far S.H.I.E.L.D.'s reach extends, it needs time, resources, and a reason to reach into Eastern Europe. Until they find conclusive evidence, you are safe."
"But what if they find it?" Su Ying asked.
"Then we make sure they don't," Lin Xiao said. His voice was calm, but it carried an unquestionable resolve.
"I've already had Nightingale begin erasing every digital trace that could expose your location," Lin Xiao continued. "Your false identity, bank records, entry and exit records—every lead that can be traced will be overwritten or forged within twenty-four hours. At the same time, Grey Falcon will monitor all internal S.H.I.E.L.D. communications. The moment any pursuit order concerning you is issued, we'll know."
Su Ying was silent for a few seconds. Then she nodded. "I trust you."
Four simple words, but Lin Xiao could hear their weight. It was the trust of entrusting one's life to another, the understanding of walking side by side through darkness.
Children's laughter drifted in from outside. There was the dull thump of a football striking a wall, along with mothers calling their children home for dinner. Those sounds passed through the glass and the gaps in the blinds, entering this tense room and creating a strange contrast.
"There's one more thing," Su Ying said. "Grey Falcon contacted me this morning. He heard from an old S.H.I.E.L.D. contact that the internal review team has not only pulled my file, but... may already have found some inconsistencies in the records."
Lin Xiao's heart sank. "What inconsistencies?"
"Not clear yet." Su Ying shook her head. "But the contact said that while cross-checking the mission Timeline, the review team found several 'unexplainable gaps.' Seventeen minutes are missing from the communication logs. Several crucial times in the field report do not match, and... an agent who was supposed to have died during that mission was recently discovered alive, living under an assumed name in Brazil."
The information flashed through Lin Xiao's mind. Missing communication logs—Hydra might have deleted conversations that would expose the trap. Mismatched timestamps—possibly to conceal the true sequence of events. An agent presumed dead was alive—this might be the most fatal flaw. A living witness could overturn the entire official conclusion.
"What's the agent's name?" Lin Xiao asked.
"Marcus Lane," Su Ying said. "Codename Shepherd. He was the field commander for that mission. According to official records, he was struck in the head by a stray bullet during the firefight and died on the spot. His body was later transported back to the United States, and a funeral was held."
"But now he's in Brazil."
"Yes." Su Ying said, "Grey Falcon's contact said that while S.H.I.E.L.D. was investigating a drug case in South America, they accidentally photographed someone who looked like Lane. The photo was blurry, but facial recognition software gave an 87% match. The review team has already sent people to verify it."
Lin Xiao walked to his desk and turned on the computer. He accessed S.H.I.E.L.D.'s public archive database—one Nightingale had cracked before. Its permissions were limited, but it could retrieve some basic information. He entered "Marcus Lane," and the search results quickly appeared.
A brief service record, an ID photograph, and a cold line of text: "Killed in action on November 7, 2010, location unknown in Eastern Europe, age 42. Posthumously awarded the S.H.I.E.L.D. Medal of Valor."
The man in the photo had a square face, dark eyes, and the faintest hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. His insignia showed that he had been a Level Eight agent, a mid-level commander.
"If he's alive," Lin Xiao said, "and willing to testify, the entire official conclusion about your defection will be overturned."
"But Hydra won't let him live to testify," Su Ying said. Her voice was cold.
Lin Xiao raised his head and looked at her. Su Ying stood amid the light and shadow by the window, her face expressionless, but her eyes held a clarity that seemed to see through everything.
"Hydra designed that trap, so they will certainly eliminate every piece of evidence that could overturn the case," she said. "There are only two possibilities for why Lane is still alive. First, he is Hydra, and he escaped through a staged death. Second, he was lucky enough to survive the cleanup, but Hydra has been searching for him ever since."
She paused. "No matter which is true, once S.H.I.E.L.D. finds him, Hydra will act. Either they will silence him, or... make him say what they want him to say."
The room fell quiet. The wind outside seemed to grow stronger, making the blind slats tremble softly. In the distance, church bells rang deep and far-reaching, as though announcing the arrival of a certain moment.
Lin Xiao shut off the computer screen. The ID photograph vanished into darkness, leaving only his own blurred reflection in the screen.
"We need to prepare on two fronts," he said. "First, find Lane before S.H.I.E.L.D. does. Second, prepare for a S.H.I.E.L.D. pursuit."
Su Ying walked over to him. Her training suit had dried from her body heat, but the salty scent of sweat still lingered in the air. Her eyes appeared especially bright in the dim light, like two pieces of obsidian submerged in ice water.
"What do you intend to do?" she asked.
Lin Xiao looked at her, at the woman who had once died for him in another Timeline, at the partner now standing beside him in the darkness.
"I'll have Wolf activate his network of contacts in South America," he said. "At the same time, Nightingale will try to track the S.H.I.E.L.D. investigation team sent to Brazil. We need to know their progress, their route, and their operational plan."
He paused. "As for you, starting today, reduce your trips outside. Training can continue, but do not leave the base perimeter. All contact with the outside world will go through encrypted channels. If you must appear in public, use a disguise and a false identity."
Su Ying nodded. "Understood."
Outside the window, the sky began to darken. The last light of the setting sun pierced through the clouds, dyeing the sky orange-red. The light filtering through the blinds became a warm gold, casting long shadows across the walls.
Another day was coming to an end. But the storm had only just begun.
Before you continue