Private negotiations over cross-dimensional communications, the politics of a Red Room orphan
That female voice, like a wisp of weightless smoke, emerged from the receiver of the Encrypted Communicator and lingered in the silent office.
Lazy, relaxed, yet with a subtle, almost imperceptible undercurrent of cunning.
"Director, do you need any help?"
Lynn's gaze slowly shifted away from the two red warning boxes flashing with extremely abnormal signals.
His fingers were still resting on the Communicator, and he could feel the coolness of the metal casing on his fingertips.
He did not answer immediately.
In the office, only the faint sound of the central air conditioning system and the two warning boxes on the desk representing Hela and Wanda's loss of control were flashing silently.
They are like two hearts beating increasingly erratically, foreshadowing an impending storm.
And the owner of that voice is clearly at the center of the storm.
"Who are you?" Lynn asked, his voice steady and devoid of any emotion.
He didn't ask how the other party obtained the dedicated line number, nor did he inquire about their purpose. In the face of complete uncertainty, any unnecessary questions would be a sign of weakness.
A soft laugh came from the other end of the Communicator.
Who I am is unimportant.
"The important thing is, I know you're having a huge headache right now. The top officials of the Stability Maintenance Office and the Ministry of Science and Department of Technology are causing trouble outside, which is no small matter. If it alerts the ' Rule Envoy ' who's still out there, your newly finalized case closure report might become a piece of waste paper."
The other party was fully aware of the Management Committee's internal power structure, personnel relationships, and even the most secretive external crises.
"I have some very interesting underlying data in my possession," the voice paused, as if deliberately giving Lynn time to process it, "Something about the ruins of Sokovia, and about the Bifrost in Asgard. I think this should help you clear up many misunderstandings and calm those two ministers down."
The true intentions are revealed when the map is unrolled.
Lynn's gaze remained unchanged.
He held the Communicator, leaning back in his chair, his posture unchanged regardless of the stakes the other party had thrown out.
"Your terms," he asked.
"One position." The other party's reply was concise and to the point. "A core position within the Negative Zone Management Committee. I need a position where I can sit in a meeting room and report to you face-to-face."
A brief silence fell over the office.
Lynn had already connected all the clues in his mind.
The Red Room abandoned base, a corner cut by TVA and forgotten by time. A mysterious person who knows him, Wanda, Hela, and even the internal workings of the Management Committee.
Natasha Romanoff.
The orphan from the Red Room who, in the simulator, also gave his life for him.
She didn't die. She had been lying dormant in that abandoned Dimension, like the most patient spider, quietly waiting.
Now, she has finished weaving her net and is coming to us.
Use his deepest secrets to make a political deal with him.
"You have no right to negotiate with me," Lynn said, his tone even more indifferent than before, even carrying a hint of formulaic coldness.
He took the Communicator away from his ear, pressed the speakerphone button, and casually placed it on his desk.
He stood up, walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, turned his back to the Communicator, and looked out at the Eternity, deep darkness of the Negative Zone.
"First, you illegally occupied and altered Abandoned Dimension D-78 listed in the Management Committee's directory. This act violates Articles 3 and 7 of the ' Negative Zone Management Committee Cross -Dimension Asset Management Regulations,' as well as the supplementary agreement to the ' Abandoned Timeline Silent Sealing Act.' According to the regulations, I have the right to forcibly format and clean up this Dimension."
His voice, transmitted clearly through the office's loudspeaker system, reached the Communicator without a trace of personal emotion.
"Secondly, you have been using unknown technical means to steal Internal Communications and highly classified intelligence from the Management Committee for an extended period of time. This constitutes the highest level of hostile espionage. The Stability Maintenance Office has the right to eliminate you on the spot without trial."
"Third, and most seriously, you deliberately provoked and exacerbated the conflict between the heads of my core departments, endangering the stability and security of the Management Committee. This alone is enough to make you a Class A target for elimination."
Lynn turned around, his gaze calm as he looked at the small Communicator on the table, as if it were an inanimate object.
"Now tell me, on what basis do you think that a fugitive who illegally occupies abandoned assets, endangers the safety of the Management Committee, and could be purged at any time in accordance with regulations, has the right to demand a core staff position from me?"
This series of cold, emotionless institutional rhetoric was like a series of punches, precisely hitting all the chips the other side had thrown out.
Lin... no, the Director of the Management Committee, didn't even respond to her challenge.
He didn't even touch on sensitive words like "Sokovia" and "Asgard," completely refusing to acknowledge the value of that "underlying data."
He stood directly at the highest point of the system, adopting the posture of a controller, and ruthlessly characterized and judged Natasha's behavior.
This is not a negotiation.
This is a reprimand from a superior to a subordinate, and a verdict from law enforcement officers to lawbreakers.
There was silence on the other end of the Communicator.
A good ten seconds or so passed.
A more distinct, slightly amused chuckle then emanated from within.
There was no anger at being refuted, no fear of being threatened; instead, it sounded like the laughter of a child who had received a satisfactory answer.
"It seems we've reached an agreement." Natasha's voice sounded relaxed.
Lynn frowned slightly.
Reaching a consensus?
There was absolutely no consensus between them.
"I don't..."
Before Lynn could finish speaking, the other party had already abruptly cut off the communication.
beep.
A busy signal.
The office returned to silence.
Lynn stood there, staring at the Communicator with its screen black, his bad premonition growing stronger.
Natasha's reaction was completely illogical.
She meticulously planned and instigated the internal strife between Hela and Wanda, and then made this phone call at the perfect moment. It's impossible that she only wanted to be reprimanded by him in official jargon.
What exactly is she trying to do?
Just then...
A higher-level alarm, sharper and more urgent than the two red warning boxes from before, instantly resounded throughout the entire White Bone Hall!
The blinding red light cast a blood-red glow on Lynn's face.
On the main screen of his desk, all the windows were forcibly covered by a huge, ever-enlarging exclamation mark.
Below the exclamation mark, a line of bold red text flashes wildly.
[WARNING: A miniature antimatter Arc Reactor has been detected in the lower level of the abandoned "Red Room" base in E-616 Abandoned Timeline...]
[... supercritical detonation!]