A bizarre suicide in the holding cell, a death code pointing to Battleworld

The piercing alarm shattered the newly restored tranquility of the White Bone Hall.

The face of the Undead Centurion twisted and flickered on the blood-red light screen, and the Data Stream was extremely unstable.

"... Target B-15, in the detention room, has lost vital signs."

The Centurion's report was fragmented, yet it was enough to instantly freeze the atmosphere that had just eased in the hall.

"It will die out on its own."

Lynn rose from the Throne.

He didn't give any complicated instructions, he just uttered a single word.

"Walk."

A spatial rift unfolded in the hall, pitch black and deep. Lynn stepped in first, his figure swallowed by the darkness.

Wanda and Gwen Stacy followed closely behind.

Hela stared at the closing rift, her eyes dark and the Aura of Death emanating from her almost tangible. Her people, within the defense zone she was responsible for, had perished in this way.

She glanced one last time at the mildly worded letter of compromise that had just arrived, let out a cold, ambiguous laugh, and slipped into the rift.

Abandoned Subway Station 14-B, Queens, New York.

The frigid air was thick with the mingled smells of disinfectant and dust. Undead Soldiers stood guard every three steps and sentries every five, sealing off the area completely. Each soldier's eyes burned with a ghostly green flame of their souls as they silently observed everything around them.

Lynn and his group appeared out of thin air without causing any commotion.

The Undead Centurion in charge of the scene immediately stepped forward and knelt on one knee.

"Sir, the target is located in solitary detention cell A-3. From the alarm being triggered to our breaching of the door, it took no more than three seconds. During this time, no form of energy intrusion or physical contact was detected."

Lynn didn't say anything and walked straight to the detention room with the red warning light on.

The A-3 detention room is a metal box made of Vibranium composite material, with extremely simple furnishings inside: a fixed metal table and a fixed metal chair.

The man codenamed B-15, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, was sitting upright in a chair.

His posture was perfect, with his hands flat on the table and his back straight, as if he were waiting for an important meeting.

His glasses were still securely perched on his nose, and his clothes were impeccably tailored.

However, his eyes were wide open, the pupils completely dilated, devoid of any spirit. His face showed no pain or struggle, as calm as a wax figure.

The person is dead.

His death was silent and mysterious, shrouded in bizarre and unsettling circumstances.

Gwen Stacy stood in the doorway, her gaze sweeping over every corner of the room. The lock was intact, the walls were undamaged, and the ventilation system was in recirculation mode. It was a perfect secret room.

Hela went inside, and as she reached out, a wisp of black, Aura of Death coiled around the corpse of B-15. After a moment, she frowned.

"No soul remained. It wasn't extracted, but rather... utterly Oblivion."

Wanda went in as well. She didn't touch the corpse; Scarlet, Chaos light flowed from her fingertips, like countless tiny Data Stream, seeping into every crevice of the room, scanning everything that had happened in the past few minutes.

"No trace of external force." Wanda's voice was low, tinged with confusion. "Space is stable, and there's no sign of the Timeline being tampered with. The energy structure within his body... collapsed on its own. It's like a running program triggered a self-destruct command at a lower level."

Sacrifice the pawn to save the king.

The word popped into Lynn's mind.

The other side is using the most ruthless and effective methods to cut off the leads. The letter of compromise is a smokescreen to lull them into a false sense of security; behind this seemingly gentle facade lies a ruthless attempt to silence them.

This opponent named Kang was even more troublesome than he had anticipated.

"Check him for anything left on him." Lynn's voice broke the silence in the room.

Gwen Stacy put on special gloves and began a thorough examination of the body. The pockets were empty, there was nothing in the lining of the clothes, and even the soles of the shoes were spotless.

This is a professional agent; he wouldn't leave any unnecessary items on his person.

Just when everyone thought the trail had gone cold, Wanda's gaze fell on the cold metal tabletop.

"Here."

She pointed to the spot where B-15's right hand had originally covered.

On the tabletop, there was a very inconspicuous scratch. Against the smooth metal, these scratches appeared messy and disordered, like the unconscious convulsions of a person before death.

But Wanda's Chaos perception detected faint, almost negligible Bioelectricity remaining in these scratches.

This is something he deliberately left with his own fingernails in the last moments of his life.

Lynn stepped forward and looked down.

Those weren't random scratches, but a string of extremely complex code. The characters were distorted, the strokes were broken, layer upon layer, as if countless pieces of information had been forcibly compressed into a small space.

"It's a complex encryption," Wanda immediately began analyzing. "The surface is disguised gibberish, but underneath there are at least three layers of logical traps. He must have triggered a restriction in his mind, forcibly etching the information into his brain in the few seconds before his consciousness was completely erased."

She closed her eyes, and the Scarlet energy completely enveloped, scanned, and copied the scratch.

Countless Data Stream surged, collided, and reorganized within Wanda's consciousness.

A few seconds later, she opened her eyes, her expression somewhat grave.

"Only the outermost layer can be deciphered. It's a single word."

"Battleworld."

The moment she uttered that word, the temperature in the entire room seemed to drop even further.

Battleworld.

A completely unfamiliar term, yet it carries an unspoken heaviness and bloodshed.

A flicker of interest crossed Hela's eyes.

Lynn quickly searched his mind for all the information he knew, from S.H.I.E.L.D..'s Top Secret files to Kamar-Taj's ancient dossiers, but there was no record of "Battleworld".

This is clearly a higher-level secret.

That Man with Gold-Rimmed Glasses risked his life to deliver this unique and crucial piece of information.

What was he trying to reveal, or was he leading them into a bigger trap?

Just as Lynn, Gwen Stacy, who had been standing silently to the side, stiffened almost imperceptibly.

Her gaze was fixed on the complete string of code that Wanda had simulated with energy, and her face turned pale and bloodless at a visible speed.

Lynn immediately noticed her unusual behavior.

"What's wrong?"

Gwen Stacy didn't answer immediately. She stretched out her finger and gently traced a few nodes of the virtual code in the air, her fingertips trembling slightly.

She took a deep breath, her voice hoarse.

"How is this code encrypted..."

She paused, as if searching for the right words.

"... its nested logic, the key generation rules, and the permutations and combinations of these disguised scrambled characters... I've seen this kind of technique before."

Lynn looked at her.

Gwen Stacy slowly raised her head, her eyes filled with undisguised shock and bewilderment.

"This is my father's encryption habit."