A closed-door conversation in the Director's office, a dimensional reduction through institutional rules
The White Bone Hall.
The Director's Office was so quiet that the faint low-frequency sound of the Energy Circulation System could be heard.
Lynn turned off the light screen on his Private Terminal.
He had already read Natasha's "Preliminary Report on the Background Security Review of Entity 'XN-734-01'". The report was well-written and fully complied with the working standards of the Internal Affairs Inspection Office. The description of the facts was objective and calm. However, in the final risk assessment section, Natasha gave the conclusion in bold.
"Assessment: This entity possesses an uncontrollable tendency towards destruction and exhibits an unusual psychological orientation towards the Director. The security risk level is rated as 'extremely high'."
Recommendation: Before absolute discipline is established within the organizational structure, it is not advisable to grant any positions with real power.
Lynn picked up her teacup; the water inside had already cooled down.
He glanced at the time.
The 48-hour quarantine period is about to end.
He pressed the Internal Communicator on the table.
Gwen Stacy.
"Director, I'm here." The Liaison Office Chief's voice came through immediately.
"Notify Forward Isolation Cell One that after the quarantine period expires, entity 'XN-734-01' should come to the Director's Office."
"Clear."
Communication was cut off, and the office returned to silence.
About ten minutes later, there was a gentle knock on the office door.
"Please come in."
The door slid open silently, and Jean Grey walked in. She had changed out of her disheveled combat uniform and put on the gray standard uniform issued by the Management Committee. Her long red hair was tied back, making her look less flamboyant and more reserved.
After she entered, the office door automatically closed behind her.
Qin's gaze immediately fell on Lynn behind the desk, her eyes filled with complex emotions. There was grievance, confusion, but more than anything, a focused expression of something lost and then regained.
She didn't say anything, but walked straight to her desk.
Lynn didn't look up, still staring at the document in front of him, as if he were reviewing it.
"Stop."
His voice wasn't loud, but it was very clear.
Qin stopped five meters away from the desk.
Lynn then put down the documents in her hand, looked up, and calmly looked at her.
According to Article 17 the "Management Committee Internal Office Area Code of Conduct," non-official reporting personnel should maintain a distance of at least three meters when speaking with the Director.
His tone was as if he were reciting regulations, devoid of any personal emotion.
Qin's lips moved, but her expression froze.
She looked at Lynn, as if trying to find a trace of familiarity on his face, but only saw a formulaic calm.
The air in the office seemed to grow heavy at that moment.
The low-frequency humming sound from the outside world disappeared.
The lighting remained unchanged, but the overall feel of the space seemed to be enveloped by an invisible film, completely isolating it from the outside world.
An absolute, unquestionable will is quietly taking over this room.
This is the domain of the Phoenix Force.
Jean Grey attempted to use this method to strip away all the "rules" and forcefully pull the conversation back to a level she was familiar with, a level that belonged only to the two of them.
Lynn's expression remained unchanged.
He didn't even look at the unusual space around him, but instead focused his gaze back on Qin's face.
"Who gave you permission to use unreported energy here?"
His voice remained calm, but every word carried undeniable weight.
"According to the 'Interim Measures for the Management of High-Risk Energy Use in Negative Zone,' any unauthorized release of energy within the Core Zone of the White Bone Hall will be considered a direct attack on the Management Committee's Command Center."
Qin was stunned.
She had anticipated Lynn's reaction: surprise, helplessness, or even some degree of compromise.
But what she never expected was that he would so calmly label her actions as "attacking the Command Center."
"I didn't..." she instinctively tried to explain.
"Whether you have it or not isn't up to you to decide, it's up to the regulations and procedures," Lynn interrupted her.
He leaned forward slightly, his hands crossed on the table.
"Comrade Jean Grey, I hope you understand one thing. This is the Negative Zone Management Committee, not your little Xavier's School."
"Here, power does not come from the cosmic flames behind you, but from every document you sign, every rule you abide by, and every procedure you follow."
"Why was your draft rejected? It wasn't because of Hela and Wanda's opposition. Their opposition was merely part of the procedure. The real reason is that your draft itself challenges the fundamental order here."
Lynn's voice was calm and unhurried, like a teacher explaining the most basic principles to an ignorant student.
"Your demand to establish a Special Zone outside the jurisdiction of the Stability Maintenance Office means that the highest violent organ of the Management Committee will become ineffective in your territory. You demand to be appointed as a plenipotentiary representative without explaining where the staffing and budget will come from, which means you want to arbitrarily transfer resources from the Department of Technology without being subject to their technical standards and auditing supervision."
"Have you considered that once such a draft is passed, you won't gain power, but rather an isolated island? The Stability Maintenance Office has the right to cut off all physical connections between you and the outside world on the grounds of 'security risks.' The Department of Technology can stop supplying you with all energy and computing power on the grounds of 'data port incompatibility.' The Liaison Office will be unable to process any official documents for you because of your 'independence.'"
"By then, you and your Special Zone will have nothing but that abandoned Timeline."
"That's the power of rules."
Lynn looked at her, his gaze sharp.
"It can make your path impassable, or it can grant you unimpeded freedom. And you, you chose the worst possible way, trying to circumvent it."
The office was deathly silent.
The invisible force that enveloped the entire space began to fluctuate and became unstable.
Jean Grey's face was slightly pale.
She had never thought about these things. In her world, power that was strong enough was the rule. But in Lynn's description, the power she was so proud of seemed so clumsy and powerless in the face of this strict and cold bureaucratic system.
"You want to establish Special Zone? Fine. Come up with a feasible and compliant plan to convince everyone on the Standing Committee. You want to work alongside me? Fine. Pass the assessment and secure a compliant position that allows you to enter this office."
"But you want to use this method... to block my office and force me into a private conversation outside the rules," Lynn shook his head. "That's crossing the line. It's serious."
That invisible membrane vanished without a sound.
The office returned to normal, and low-frequency sounds from outside could be heard again.
Jean Grey's imposing aura vanished completely. She stood there, head bowed, like a child who had done something wrong.
"... sorry."
Her voice was very low.
Lynn leaned back in his chair, his expression softening somewhat.
"I personally accept your apology. However, according to Discipline, you still need to submit a written self-criticism to the Internal Affairs Inspection Office for filing."
He ended the conversation with proper etiquette.
Just then, the office door was suddenly pushed open, which was extremely unusual in the White Bone Hall, where etiquette was highly valued.
Gwen Stacy strode in, her expression unusually serious, not even glancing at Jean Grey standing to the side.
"Director, urgent official letter!"
She placed a Data Pad on Lynn's desk; on the Data Pad's screen, a burning clock emblem was flashing a blinding red light.
"Sent by the TVA Commission for Discipline Inspection, highest priority."