The illegal blockade of external shipping lanes, the Management Committee Director's defense
White Bone Hall, the alarm had stopped, but its piercing echo seemed to linger beneath the dome, refusing to dissipate.
Gwen Stacy's Holographic Projection disappeared.
Her final words, "forcefully cut off," were like a pebble thrown into still water, creating ripples throughout the command center.
Hela stood in the shadows, silent. But the chilling aura emanating from her spoke volumes about the Director of the Stability Maintenance Office. The sword was already sheathed, awaiting only the order to draw.
On the screen in front of Lynn, the Liaison Office's newly updated real-time situation map had already appeared.
The main shipping lanes connecting the Negative Zone to the outside world are marked in bright red. A note next to them reads: Temporary Traffic Control, in accordance with Article 11, Section 4 of the Multiverse Navigation Safety Code.
Immediately afterwards, an emergency report submitted by the Logistics Support Department popped up automatically.
Rows of lists depicted supplies scheduled to arrive within the next 72 hours, ranging from basic energy blocks to precision components needed for research projects; all were currently marked as "delayed."
The opponent's movements were quick and precise.
To cut off the fuel supply from under the cauldron.
Instead of resorting to force, they used a set of compliant procedures to choke the Negative Zone. They attempted to force the Management Committee to comply, or to force the Management Committee to take action first, by creating internal public panic.
An Encrypted Communicator vibrated slightly.
It was a message from Hela, just one line long.
The Stability Maintenance Office has requested that clearing operations be carried out on the C-7 waterway.
Lynn's gaze swept over the line of text, but he didn't reply. Clearing obstacles, to put it nicely, was actually a forced breakout. Once they made a move, they would fall right into the enemy's trap of "violent resistance."
Another analytical briefing from the Liaison Office arrived almost simultaneously.
Gwen Stacy's judgment was clear: the "Navigation Safety Notice" of Earth-838 was procedurally flawless, and although the cited clauses were obscure, they were real. Any unannounced armed countermeasures in the Negative Zone would be classified as a provocative act of "disrupting the Multiverse order."
One plays the good cop, the other the bad cop.
One wanted to fight, the other tried to stop him.
This was all an expected reaction.
Lynn leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping silently on the armrest. He stared at the situation map, at the Mordo Fleet's icons plastered like a stubborn welt around the Buffer Zone, his expression unchanged.
He didn't look at the list of the stranded supplies, nor did he calculate how long the energy reserves could last.
Those are not the key issues.
The crux of the matter is that the other party has drawn a line, then stood on the other side, waiting for you to cross it.
So, just don't step on it.
Lynn stopped tapping her fingers.
He did not convene an emergency meeting, nor did he consult anyone's opinion.
He simply and calmly brought up a blank document template.
The template's top page features the emblem of the Negative Zone Management Committee and a prominent line of text: Director's Order.
He didn't touch the screen with his hands; instead, he used nerve sensing to directly input text into the document. His will was the tip of his pen.
Title: Order to Conduct Emergency Defense Drills in the Airspace Surrounding C-7 Portal
The main text is very concise.
"Given the recent frequent detection of high-intensity Hyperspace Energy Tides and signs of unidentified giant biological activity in the outer Buffer Zone of C-7 Portal, and in order to ensure the security of our border and critical infrastructure, the Management Committee Director's Office has decided, after deliberation:"
"I. Effective from the date of issuance of this order, a temporary military restricted area shall be established for one month outside the C-7 Portal, within the coordinate range of East longitude... West longitude..."
"Second, the Stability Maintenance Office should immediately organize its subordinate armed forces to conduct a routine live-fire defense exercise codenamed ' Purification ' within the aforementioned restricted areas. The exercise's objective is to counter the infiltration and elimination of the Void Beast."
"Third, during the exercise, no unauthorized entity may enter the restricted area. The Negative Zone Stability Maintenance Office 'Infrastructure Protection Regulations and related emergency Contingency Plan."
"IV. This order shall be immediately broadcast by the Liaison Office to all frequency bands and reported to the Cross-Dimension Coordination Office of the Time Variance Authority for record-keeping."
The signature was his name.
Lynn.
He reviewed it and confirmed that every word was impeccable. In particular, the phrase "anti- Void Beast infiltration" cleverly echoed the recent capture of Alioth, making the rationale for this exercise seem incredibly solid.
He then authorized the issuance.
A bright red electronic seal is imprinted at the end of the document.
The command has taken effect.
C-7 Portal Buffer Zone.
The atmosphere inside the silver-white Bridge of the Earth-838 flagship was relaxed.
Baron Mordo stood before the enormous porthole, a cup of hot tea in hand, admiring the Negative Zone in the distance, enveloped by an energy barrier.
He liked this feeling.
Use the rules that the other party is most proud of to trap them tightly. Like a skilled hunter, you don't need to do anything yourself; you just need to set a trap and wait for your prey to exhaust itself in panic and despair.
"Your Excellency, their external shipping lanes have been completely cut off. According to our intelligence models, within forty-eight hours at most, they will show signs of energy shortages within their own ranks," an adjutant reported.
"Very good." Mordo's lips curled into a slight smile. "Continue to remain silent and let them experience the feeling of being isolated. I want to see how long that Management Committee Director can sit in that chair."
Just then, a short beep sounded on the public communication channel in the Bridge.
A Red-Headed Document bearing the official seal of the Negative Zone Management Committee, representing the Highest Access Privileges, was forcibly pushed to the terminals of every ship via full-band broadcast.
"Spam." Mordo waved his hand dismissively. "It's nothing more than protests and condemnations."
"No, Your Excellency..." the communications officer's voice held a hint of confusion, "This is... an order for a military exercise."
Mordo frowned.
He took the Data Pad from his adjutant and his gaze fell on the document.
As he read through the meticulously worded and logically coherent "Director's Order" word by word, the ease and arrogance on his face gradually froze.
The relaxed atmosphere inside the Bridge instantly turned deathly silent.
Everyone understood.
The other side did not protest, condemn, or fall into a trap by sending troops to Impact their blockade line.
The other party simply used the same compliant Red-Headed Document to draw a larger circle around the location of their Fleet.
A month-long live-fire military no-go zone.
"Your Excellency..." the tactical analyst's voice was somewhat hoarse, "We... we are currently in the very center of the exercise area they announced."
"Our supply Fleet, scheduled to arrive in sixty hours, is now also blocked outside the exercise area," the logistics officer added.
Those who were blockaded have, in the blink of an eye, become the prisoners.
Without even deploying a single soldier, the other side used only an official document to transform their swaggering Fleet into a group of "illegal intruders" who had trespassed into a military restricted area.
"To advance" means to Impact a military restricted area, which is tantamount to declaring war.
Retreat means acknowledging the other party's Jurisdiction over the area, which is tantamount to admitting defeat.
Staying meant watching helplessly as the supplies they carried gradually ran out.
Mordo's hand gripped the teacup so tightly it rattled. He stared intently at the signature "Lynn" on the document, his eyes filled with disbelief and rage.
"Let's test it out," he forced out through gritted teeth.
"Your Excellency, Special Envoy?"
"Send a reconnaissance ship, right now, to the edge of the exercise area." Mordo's voice was icy. "I want to see if their 'live ammunition' is just for show."
The command was executed swiftly.
A small reconnaissance ship broke away from the formation and slowly, tentatively, drifted toward the invisible boundary line drawn by the Red-Headed Document.
All eyes on the Bridge were focused on the main screen.
The dot of light representing the reconnaissance ship slowly approached the red line that represented the restricted area.
Finally, the light spot and the red line overlapped.
The next second, piercing alarms blared simultaneously on both the flagship 838 and the reconnaissance ship that had crossed the line.
Ahead of the reconnaissance ship, several Undead Fighter, shimmering with Aura of Death, appeared out of thin air, their dark cannons already locked onto it.