The handover of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s underlying data, the liaison office head's
Deep underground in Virginia.
The air in the "Hive" is kept at a constant temperature and carries a dry smell that is a mixture of electronic components and a circulating filtration system.
There is no distinction between day and night here, only rows upon rows of endless black server arrays, their indicator lights flashing regularly in the stillness like silent stars.
Gwen Stacy walked on the metal lattice floor, the crisp sound of her high heels the only discordant note in the room.
Accompanying her was an elderly, gray-haired agent named Field. He was the guardian of this data vault, having worked there since Nick Fury was a one-eyed sergeant.
"Director Stacy, this is a collection of all digitized files below Class A from the S.H.I.E.L.D.'s inception." Field's tone was calm and businesslike, but a hint of the old man's stubbornness was lurking in the corner of his eye.
He doesn't like handing over responsibilities.
In particular, handing over the keys to a "Liaison Office" that appeared out of nowhere and with no apparent origin.
Gwen Stacy ignored the emotion in his tone and simply nodded.
"Handover checklist and verification procedures," she said.
Field manipulated an embedded control panel for a few moments, and a huge Holographic Screens lit up in front of the two of them, with a waterfall of Data Stream cascading down.
"As instructed by former Director Fury, the root key with the Highest Access Privileges is ready. After you complete the verification, sign here, and control of ' The Hive ' will be officially transferred." Field pointed to a bright red electronic signature area at the bottom of the screen.
The implication is that it's just a formality; you can just sign a document and move on.
Gwen Stacy pulled up a chair and sat down.
She didn't look at the root key, nor did she look at the vast archive catalog.
"Retrieve the destruction log," she said.
Field's eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly.
He didn't think this young woman would have the patience to rummage through those old papers; it would be even more tedious than inventorying all the hard drives in the base. But he did as instructed, and the Data Stream on the screen changed, switching to a dense list of file destruction records.
The time span extends from the 1950s to the present day.
Gwen Stacy's gaze swept quickly across the screen, her fingers tapping lightly on the cold metal tabletop, as if calculating some kind of rhythm.
Field stood to the side, arms crossed, looking like he was waiting patiently. In his view, this was just a routine gesture of a new official taking office, simply trying to show his meticulousness and professionalism.
A few minutes later, Gwen Stacy's knocking stopped.
"Field."
"Please speak, person in charge."
"File number 78-4C-09, tracking report on early Genes samples of the ' Winter Soldier Program '. Destruction records show that the physical destruction was carried out on December 16, 1991." Gwen Stacy's voice was calm, as if she were reading a weather forecast.
"Yes, according to the World Security Council resolution at the time, the relevant projects needed to be completely sealed and destroyed," Field answered flawlessly.
"The S.H.I.E.L.D.. Internal File Destruction Regulations, 7th Edition, Article 31 stipulates that the physical destruction of any Class A file involving biological Genes samples must be confirmed by the presence of two Level 8 or higher agents and one Technology Division head, with all three parties signing off on the process, and a video record of the destruction must be archived."
Gwen Stacy tapped the screen lightly with her finger, and the destroyed record was enlarged.
"This record only has the signature of an 8th-level agent, Alexander Pierce. The technical director's stamp is blank, and there is no index number for the video recording."
Field's expression changed slightly.
He didn't expect that instead of checking the contents of the archives, the other party would investigate procedural flaws from decades ago.
"Sir, that was towards the end of the Cold War. The situation within S.H.I.E.L.D.. was rather chaotic, and some... procedural irregularities were unavoidable," he tried to explain.
"I understand." Gwen Stacy nodded in agreement, but then added, "I'm not concerned with historical responsibility. I'm concerned with the integrity of the transition process."
She looked at Field, her gaze calm but sharp.
"According to Annex III, Section 2 of the handover agreement reached between the ' Cross-Dimensional and Special Threat Liaison Office ' and S.H.I.E.L.D..: Any file with flaws in its procedural or oversight chains, regardless of its content, shall be considered 'high-risk contaminated data' and must be immediately isolated and transferred to the Liaison Office for independent technical review."
Field's breath caught in his throat for a moment.
This is an open strategy.
The other party didn't care whether the file was problematic or not; what she cared about was that the file gave her a legitimate reason to intervene. She used S.H.I.E.L.D..'s own rules to pry open a channel beyond his control.
"... I understand." Field paused for a few seconds, then forced out a few words through gritted teeth, "I'll have the relevant data blocks isolated."
"It's not just this one." Gwen Stacy's finger swept across the screen, highlighting a series of destruction records with similar program vulnerabilities in red, mostly concentrated in the 1970s to 1990s.
"All of these," she said.
Field's face darkened completely. He knew that from this moment on, this newly established "Liaison Office" had reached into the deepest corner of the "Hive." He could no longer use "procedures" to fob them off.
This young woman, without shedding a drop of blood, took away the initiative he had cultivated for decades in just half an hour.
Half an hour later, a separate physical server was pushed in front of Gwen Stacy. Inside were the remnants of the archives that she had marked as "high-risk contaminated data".
Field and the other agents had retreated to a distance, watching her with complicated expressions.
Gwen Stacy didn't rush to look at the contents.
She connected her portable terminal and, instead of running any data recovery program, directly launched a low-level energy spectrum analysis software.
Waveforms of different colors danced on her screen, representing the various known forms of energy in the universe: magical, technological, Cosmic Rays...
She pointed the scanning Probe at one of the data sectors that had been marked as having been "physically erased" most thoroughly.
According to records, this data underwent a shallow flush using the energy of the Tesseract during its destruction to ensure that the information could not be recovered by conventional means.
The energy waveform on the screen pulsed violently, various known energy characteristics flashed by, and finally subsided.
Everything is normal.
But Gwen Stacy did not look away.
She increased the scanning precision and adjusted the signal-to-noise ratio filtering threshold to the lowest level.
On the screen, beneath the flat lines representing the background cosmic radiation, a faint, almost negligible, Mutant Power fluctuation slowly emerged.
It was a thin, orange line with jagged edges.
It does not belong to Chaos Magic, Phoenix Force, Death Force, or any known technology or magic system on Earth.
It's like a ghost that shouldn't exist, quietly lurking in the dust of time, leaving behind a trace of something forcibly "trimmed".
Gwen Stacy's lips curled up in a silent, subtle smile.
She found it.
She took the bait that Fury, that old fox, had thrown out.
Behind the bait was a huge fish she had never seen before.