A diplomatic note in the Engine Room, absolute will and procedural justice
That will stirred.
It didn't unleash a storm of energy, nor did it make a sound; it was merely the turning of a thought.
The core light of Engine Three suddenly dimmed.
Wanda's pupils contracted instantly. The illusory Data Stream constructed from Chaos Magic in front of her seemed to be gripped by an invisible hand. The code representing the "Phoenix" signature began to blur and thin at a visible speed, its edges being forcibly erased.
He's cleaning up the code.
Wanda's voice was dry, tinged with disbelief. This wasn't hacking, it wasn't isolation, but a direct erasure at the conceptual level—an unreasonable overwrite with Highest Access Privileges.
Hela's body was taut to the extreme, the Death Force surging within her, yet finding no outlet. She could sever physical bodies, she could Oblivion souls, but she could not contend against a pure will that defined all the rules of this place.
It's a feeling of helplessness in the face of natural disasters.
Gwen Stacy felt as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs, and each heartbeat was heavy as a drumbeat. The pressure of that will made it incredibly difficult for her to even lift a finger.
Her brain was screaming, commanding her body to lie down, curl up, and give up the fight.
But she didn't.
Her gaze was fixed on the Supreme Adjudicator's massive, silent body.
Lynn's instructions, the factional analysis in that Top Secret file, and her responsibilities as the Director of the Liaison Office intertwined in her mind to form a final line of Defense Line.
Force cannot be used.
We cannot show weakness.
The only way is to use rules to fight rules.
Gwen Stacy's jaw was trembling slightly, but her eyes were unusually firm. With all her might, overcoming the trembling that came from her very survival instinct, she slowly, inch by inch, raised her right hand.
In her hand, she tightly clutched the recently signed "Technical Assistance Memorandum," still warm from the system's touch.
The paper was thin, yet it felt as heavy as a mountain.
Hela and Wanda's eyes were involuntarily drawn to her movements.
Faced with a will powerful enough to make Deity bow down, what will this mortal agent do?
Gwent took a deep breath.
"On behalf of the Negative Zone Management Committee, I hereby extend an urgent Diplomatic Note to the Supreme Adjudicator of the Battleworld."
Her voice wasn't loud, even a little weak, but in the deathly silent Engine Room, every word was clearly audible.
She did not look at the invisible will, but stared directly into the Supreme Adjudicator's frozen red eyes.
"According to the 'Provisional Memorandum on Compensation and Technical Assistance for Engine Three ' that was just signed by both parties and has been entered into the Battleworld Core Code Battlefield) system, the ' Phoenix ' signature implanted by our technical advisor Wanda Maximoff, has been jointly defined as a 'benign technical Patch,' and its existence has complete procedural legitimacy."
That determination to erase the code never wavered.
The Phoenix Code dissipated even faster.
Gwen Stacy's palms were sweaty, but she maintained a steady pace of speech, as if she were reading documents at a routine meeting where life and death were not at stake.
Article 2, Paragraph 3 of the Memorandum of Understanding clearly stipulates that during joint technical exercises, any modification, review, or termination of a "Benign Patch" must be carried out only after technical personnel from both parties are present and sign a written confirmation document.
She moved the memo forward an inch further.
"At this moment, this unknown force is unilaterally and without prior notice or authorization from us to forcibly remove the already effective ' Benign Patch '."
"This action constitutes a blatant breach of the established agreement between the two parties and is an unjustified termination of an effective bilateral technology agreement."
"I hereby formally submit this inquiry to His Supreme Adjudicator:"
Gwen Stacy's voice suddenly rose an octave, carrying an undeniable sternness.
"Does the written law of the Battleworld allow any individual to arbitrarily tear up a valid contract witnessed and signed by Adjudication Office without legal authorization?"
The words had barely left his mouth.
The absolute will that was erasing the code finally paused for a very slight moment.
It's like a high-speed machine whose gears are jammed by a small pebble.
It seemed unable to comprehend why an ant would dare to discuss "procedures" and "contracts" in its presence.
The pressure Engine Room suddenly increased tenfold.
Gwen Stacy's face turned deathly pale instantly, and a trickle of blood escaped from the corner of her mouth. But she still stood tall, holding the memo aloft like a stubborn statue.
Hela and Wanda both felt the pressure. They looked at Gwen Stacy in shock, this mortal who had always played the role of coordinator and clerical worker in their eyes, was now showing a courage that even they had never seen before.
This is not a contest of strength, but a clash of ideas.
It is using the "procedural justice" that a bureaucratic system is most proud of to fight against the "absolute will" of the system's supreme dictator.
I reiterate.
Gwen Stacy's voice was hoarse from the immense pressure, but her logic became increasingly clear.
"We do not deny the supreme status of this will. However, status cannot supersede procedure. We demand an immediate halt to the current illegal clearing activities. Until representatives of both sides sit down and reach a new written consensus on 'amendment' or 'termination of the agreement,' this Provisional Memorandum remains the sole and effective code of conduct here."
"Until a new consensus is reached, the ' Phoenix ' code will enjoy full 'compliance protection'."
"These are the rules."
She practically squeezed out the last three words through gritted teeth.
An eerie stalemate ensued in the entire Engine Room.
That absolute will seemed to be weighing its options. Should it crush this troublesome ant and her ridiculous rules, or...?
Just then, the Supreme Adjudicator, who had been standing as still as a statue, let out a low groan from within his massive mechanical body, like metal fatigue.
Buzz--
Its core program is undergoing an unprecedented storm.
[Command A: Execute the command of the Supreme Will (Kang) to clear the ' Phoenix ' code.]
[Command B: Defend the Battleworld Fundamental Law and uphold the absolute sanctity of the signed contracts.]
Instruction A comes from the highest authority.
Instruction B derives from the meaning inherent in its very existence.
At this moment, the two highest priority instructions form a perfect logical paradox.
To do A means to violate B.
To execute B means to oppose A.
An infinite loop.
The solidified dark red light in the Supreme Adjudicator's eyes began to flicker violently and irregularly.
At first, the light and shadow fluctuated, then suddenly turned into a dazzling bright red, and then faded into pitch black.
Finally, a strange, entirely new red light, representing a serious system error, suddenly shone brightly deep within its eye socket.