Reality's Recoil

In the darkness, Lin Xiu's pupils caught the glint of shattered mirrors before they could adjust to the light.

Every hair on the back of his neck stood on end—this was not the crisp crack of ordinary glass breaking, but more like the tremor of some energy barrier being pierced.

The air was thick with the scorched smell of burned metal, as if electric currents were crawling through it.

The Oracle System's red alert exploded across his retinal display. He lunged for the console almost on reflex, his fingers flying over the control panel: sever all external laboratory connections, push the Balder Armor core into the electromagnetic shielding chamber. The dull thud of the metal hatch closing mingled with the system's shriek in his earpiece. "Parallel consciousness infiltration has exceeded 20%!"

Cold sweat slid down the back of his neck and into the collar of his tactical suit, the fabric clinging unpleasantly to his skin.

Lin Xiu tore off his sweat-soaked tactical glove and dug his nails deep into his palm—pain would keep him awake.

The sting at his fingertips seemed to travel straight from his nerve endings to his cerebral cortex, awakening his dormant vigilance.

He pulled up the Oracle System logs. Amid the scrolling data stream, three blank sections suddenly appeared, like chunks of flesh gouged out by a blade.

"Three records missing in the past twenty-four hours." He repeated it to the empty air, his voice carrying the peculiar calm of a researcher, low yet clear, like the sound of a precision instrument running. "Each gap was seven hours and thirteen minutes apart, precise as a preset alarm clock."

The cold glow of the monitor cast a bluish tint over his eyes. The alternating blue and white flashes made his shadow sway unsteadily across the wall.

When he opened the map app, his fingertips finally trembled—Brooklyn's satellite image was flickering. The charred ruins blasted apart by Chitauri warships were fading, replaced by red-brick buildings from ten years ago. Even the color of the awning over the old coffee shop he often visited on the corner was exactly the same.

The faint bitter aroma of aged coffee beans seemed to drift through the air, identical to the scent in his memories.

"Oracle, locate the anomaly source." He grabbed his Vibranium dagger and fastened it at his waist. His tactical boots ground over shards of glass with a soft crunch. "Prioritize Subway Exit B. That was where the wormhole's residual energy was densest last time."

Outside the subway station, wind carrying the smell of rust poured into his collar, mixed with the distant rumble of passing trains like some ominous warning.

Lin Xiu stood at the corner, staring at the wall that should have been scarred and pitted—it was now smooth as freshly painted plaster, every burn mark left by Chitauri lasers wiped away completely.

The wall felt smooth and cold beneath his hand, as though it had never endured the baptism of war.

An old woman passing by with a basket of groceries chattered to her neighbor. "That explosion last Wednesday scared me half to death. Thank goodness nobody got hurt." Lin Xiu stopped short—last Wednesday, the Battle of New York had not even begun. The Chitauri Legion's wormhole had only opened three days ago.

"Environmental scan complete." The Oracle System's voice was low, as if afraid of disturbing something. "Seven reality-overlap zones have been marked. The nearest is fifty meters ahead, behind the newsstand."

In the alley behind the newsstand, a girl in a denim jacket was screaming at her camera.

Lin Xiu approached quietly and saw the photo on her phone screen—of the same apartment building. Its upper half was a modern glass curtain wall, while its lower half was covered in ivy from ten years ago. More bizarrely, at the edge of the image stood a girl in a denim jacket holding up a camera, staring directly at herself in the viewfinder.

"Don't touch the delete button." Lin Xiu's voice suddenly sounded beside her ear.

The girl spun around sharply, and the camera slammed into his chest. The Nanite Swarm instantly wrapped around the falling device, catching it a second before it hit the ground.

The sound of metal meeting nanomaterial was soft and precise, as though an invisible hand had steadily caught the falling camera.

Her pupils contracted as if struck by an earthquake. She staggered back two steps and hit the brick wall. "You... how did you know I was going to delete it?"

Lin Xiu pulled off his tactical mask, revealing a bluish cast along his jawline. "Because when you pressed the shutter just now, your finger hovered over the delete button for three seconds." He raised his right hand. Pale golden nanobots seeped through his fingers, weaving a translucent barrier between them, like a curtain of light formed when sunlight pierced thin mist. "This is a Quantum Interference Field. The photo in your device is safe for now."

"But listen—" He took half a step forward, his shadow covering the girl's pale face. "From now on, don't trust anything you see, including yourself in the mirror."

The girl's breathing abruptly quickened. She stared at the faint golden words appearing and disappearing on the inside of Lin Xiu's wrist—the exact same mark that had been on the wrist of the "herself" in the photo.

His communicator vibrated at that moment.

Icarus Vaughn's voice was like steel wire soaked in ice water. "Reality Anchor displacement detected: 0.7 dimensions.

The laws of the universe are correcting variables. You are like ink dropped into clear water, and you are being diluted."

Lin Xiu tore off the communicator and pressed it to his ear. The Nanite Swarm automatically repaired the cracks in his tactical suit. "So the 'me over there' the Ancient One mentioned is a replacement created by the laws?"

"A replacement?" Icarus gave a quiet laugh, its trailing note cold as a blade. "No, a more perfect correction.

It has none of your hesitation, none of your sympathy for those idiots in the Avengers—it will become the sharpest blade of the laws."

Lin Xiu rubbed the grip pattern of his Vibranium dagger with his thumb. Bloodstains from his fight with the Chitauri warrior still lingered there.

The scent of blood seemed to remain in his nostrils, reminding him that the battle had never ended.

He looked toward the billboard that was "rewinding" in the distance—the electronic screen had just been advertising Stark Industries' newest model, but it was now reversing into a pizza ad from ten years ago.

As the image shifted, an old advertising jingle played, its familiar melody enough to make his heart tighten.

"Then I'll let this drop of ink stain the entire glass of water." He spoke into the communicator. "Oracle, initiate Level One Nanite Swarm deployment."

"Wait—" Icarus's voice suddenly distorted, as if swallowed by garbled code. "A higher-dimensional entity is making contact... It isn't the laws, it's..."

Static abruptly exploded from the communicator.

Lin Xiu looked up and saw the air at the end of the street twisting like a lake disturbed by a stone. Yet what churned within the ripples was not water, but overlapping images: present-day Brooklyn on the left, the old streets from ten years ago on the right, and between them, a blood-red battlefield he had never seen before.

Amid the interwoven light and shadows of the three timeframes, someone seemed to be whispering. The voice came from somewhere far away, yet also seemed right beside his ear.

"You do not belong here."

The whisper surged in from every direction, like countless people speaking at once, yet each syllable remained clear enough to distinguish.

Lin Xiu felt icy fingers touching his mental barrier. The Oracle System's alarm nearly pierced his eardrums. "Higher-dimensional consciousness detected!

Energy level exceeds current analysis range!"

He took half a step back, his spine pressing against the brick wall still warm from its "rewinding."

The wall's surface was faintly hot, as if it had just gone through a reversal of time.

The distortion at the end of the street grew more violent. The three timelines that had once run parallel began tearing at one another. The billboard's screen played scenes from all three eras at once, while pedestrians' conversations mixed with noise from ten years ago like an old cassette radio.

"But your existence has already torn apart the balance."

As the final syllable faded, Lin Xiu saw the character "Advance" on his wrist grow hot. Pale golden nanobots surged through his veins toward his heart.

The heat was not painful. It felt more like a summons.

He reached for the remote control to the electromagnetic shielding chamber, his fingertip pausing over the "Deploy" button—the Oracle System's real-time scan unfolded across his retina, seven red markers in Brooklyn beating like seven hearts.

"Oracle." His voice suddenly became as steady as a precision instrument. "Split the Nanite Swarm into seven groups. Target: the central point of each of the seven reality-overlap zones."

The system was silent for two seconds, then projected seven green trajectories. "This will require cutting 50% of the armor's energy supply. Apocalypse Form will be unavailable."

Lin Xiu tore the Stark Industries badge from the collar of his tactical suit. It was a keepsake he had won in a bet with Tony.

The metal's chill seeped through his fingertips, as though he were holding onto some kind of promise.

He stuffed the badge into the girl's hand. The Nanite Swarm instantly wrapped around its metal surface and engraved a line of tiny words: "If the sun rises as usual tomorrow, go to 13th Street in Queens and find Dr. Banner."

"Deploy now." He lifted his head toward the churning temporal vortex at the end of the street, pulling a bloodied smile. "I want to see whether these laws of the universe can erase the traces of seven trillion nanobots."

The girl's hand tightened around the badge, trembling.

She watched Lin Xiu turn and walk toward the distorted temporal vortex. The Nanite Swarm on his tactical suit flowed away from his body like golden rivers, surging toward seven directions across Brooklyn—each nanobot carrying a fragment of his consciousness, like stars scattered across a lake, ready to carve coordinates belonging to "Lin Xiu" into the ripples of reality.

The distortion at the end of the street suddenly intensified. Something black extended half a hand from the turbulent flow.

Lin Xiu's tactical boot crushed a shard of glass that was "rewinding." It was a fragment of the laboratory's full-length mirror.

Its edges were still sharp, reflecting his blurred silhouette.

He reached for the Vibranium dagger at his waist. This time, there was no other self in the mirror, only his own reflection—the blaze in his eyes was brighter than any armor form.

"My turn?" he murmured to the air, spinning the dagger in a graceful flourish in his palm. "Ask my nanobots whether they agree first."

Seven streams of golden light plunged into the ground at once.

When the final nanobot burrowed into a crack in the brickwork atop the spire of an old church somewhere in Brooklyn, Lin Xiu heard the Oracle System's prompt. "Reality Anchor deployment complete... Current variable retention rate: 37%."

The shadow in the temporal turbulence paused, then slowly withdrew its hand.

Lin Xiu raised his head toward the gradually calming sky. A bead of sweat on his temple refracted rainbow light in the sun.

He pulled out his communicator and sent Tony a message: "Get your anti-gravity device ready. We might need to move some 'antiques' tomorrow."

The instant his phone screen lit up, he saw that Brooklyn on the map app was no longer flickering—the overlapping temporal images had faded, but seven green dots pulsed steadily like heartbeats.

"Oracle, record the current time." He pulled off his tactical mask, letting the wind lift the loose strands over his forehead. "From now on, every minute is proof that I won."

The rumble of a train arriving at the station sounded in the distance.

Lin Xiu turned and walked toward the subway station. Along the ground beneath his tactical boots, an extremely faint golden pattern spread through the cracks between the bricks—it was the root the Nanite Swarm had planted in reality, one that would grow a tree belonging to the Quantum Sentinel in the soil of the laws.