Tactical disagreements over a forced breakout, the Liaison Office Chief's risk warning

The light patterns on the east wall moved slowly, but only slightly.

Gwen Stacy stared at the Data Pad for three breaths, then shook her head.

"It's slow because the Control Console is against the east wall. When the protocol restarts, the Control Console is the last node to be included, and the last to be consolidated." She looked up. "But late doesn't mean stop. At most, it gives us twenty more breaths."

"Twenty breaths," Hela repeated.

She walked to the Light Membrane, propped the Night Sky Sword on the ground, and looked over the membrane to the void outside.

"My Fleet is overhead," she said. "Twelve Undead Warship, firing their Main Cannon, could blast this entire area, along with the fault line, apart."

"The order won't get through," Gwen Stacy reminded her.

"If it can't get out, let them see it themselves." Hela tapped Hela fingers on the hilt of her sword. "There are procedures for catastrophic detonation on warships. If the flagship is out of contact for more than a quarter of an hour, the vice-captains will, as per procedure, fire a salvo towards the coordinates of the loss of contact. This is a military regulation from the Stability Maintenance Office, which I set."

She turned around.

"We don't need to do anything. Just wait a moment, and the cannon will come by itself."

There was a moment of silence in the Main Control Room.

Natasha leaned against the control panel, remaining silent. She understood military regulations and Hela — the Director of the Stability Maintenance Office had just suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of the fault line and now wanted to regain face by using the Fleet's cannons.

Wanda frowned.

What would happen if a volley of fire landed on the fault line?

"The fault line is a piece of space that's been cut off," Hela said. "The shells hit space itself, shattering it, and we escaped through the cracks."

"Space has shattered," Jean Grey suddenly said. "What's on the other side of the crack?"

Hela glanced at her.

"That's Fleet."

"There's nothing there." Qin's voice was calm. "I just checked. Beyond the fault line is nothingness. If you shatter the fault line, we won't return to the branch office; we'll fall into nothingness."

She raised her hand, and a layer of golden light appeared in her palm.

"So there's no need to wait for your cannon," she said. "I'll tear it open. The Phoenix Force can tear this barrier. I'll tear a gap, just big enough for one person to pass through, and we'll go out one by one."

"Can you tear it open?" Wanda asked.

"It can be torn open."

What happens after you tear it up?

Qin paused for a moment.

"What after you finished tearing it?"

"You tore off the boundary of a severed Timeline." Wanda stepped forward, her fingertips Scarlet crimson. "This timeline is ruined, but it's still attached to the main trunk. You tore a hole, and the 'nothingness' of the fracture flows into the main trunk through that hole. Jean Grey, you've gotten out, but this timeline has collapsed, collapsed into the main trunk. Have you ever counted how many timelines are attached to the main trunk?"

The golden light in Qin's palm froze.

She had calculated it. She just didn't want to.

"So, what do you want?" she retorted, "To wait here to die?"

"Shut up, all of you."

Gwen Stacy spoke.

The Liaison Office Chief, carrying Data Pad, walked to the center of the room and turned the screen towards everyone.

The screen displays a calculation diagram. Fault lines, the Timeline, abandoned branch offices, and the Nibelung are all clearly marked.

"I've just gone through both of your plans," she said. "Let's hear the results first, then we can argue."

Hela crossed her arms. Qin withdrew the light from her palm.

"Director Hela's salvo." Gwen Stacy pointed to the Fleet's position on the map. "Twelve Main Cannon, enough yield. But the fault line isn't a wall, it's a gap. When the shells land, ninety percent of the force dissipates into nothingness, and the remaining ten percent trembles at the edge of the gap. The gap, shaken, will contract rapidly—not in the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, but in ten breaths. When the cannons fire, that's when we'll be reduced to a point."

Hela's jaw twitched.

"You predicted it correctly?"

"The data is here." Gwen Stacy handed over the screen. "The Director can verify it himself."

Hela didn't answer. She stared at the screen for a few moments, then looked away.

"The tear in Special Envoy Jean's eyes." Gwen Stacy turned to Jean, "Minister Wanda is right, but it's not complete. The tear doesn't just fill the main story with 'nothing.' This storyline was cut by TVA back then, and remnants of the Pruning Protocol are still hanging on the tear. Once the tear is opened, the agreement determines that the Timeline will reappear, triggering a second cut—this time, it will cut an entire segment with living people involved."

She paused.

Simply put, you didn't tear open a door, you tore open a guillotine.

Qin's face darkened.

I know my own strength.

"Your strength is limited." Gwen Stacy didn't back down. "There's no fault line. Special Envoy, this isn't about whether I trust you or not; this agreement isn't based on strength, it's based on rules. We already learned our lesson at the Archive Cabinet."

With one sentence, Hela and Qin were both shut down.

Archive Cabinet. Self-destructs in sixty seconds. A lock that the Night Sky Sword cannot cleave, a core that the Phoenix Force cannot penetrate. Everything in this section adheres to only one principle from beginning to end—rules.

Wanda glanced at Gwen Stacy.

There was something in that eye. The stalemate between the three parties earlier was brought up by Gwen Stacy to keep Lynn in check; now that the two powerful figures were about to fight, it was Gwen Stacy who used a calculation diagram to stop them. The Liaison Office Chief, but the things he had always worked.

"Then, as you see fit," Wanda asked, "How do we get out?"

"I haven't figured it out yet," Gwen Stacy answered honestly, "But I know how we can't get out. Gentlemen, the path of force is blocked. From now on, whoever makes the first move will bury the other four along with them."

The Main Control Room fell silent.

The Light Membrane moved another half foot closer. The ring of light patterns on the east wall also shifted its position.

Natasha straightened up from the control panel and slowly clapped twice.

"Well said," she said. "We can't hit it, we can't tear it apart, we can't wait. Director Gwen Stacy, then we only have one path left—"

She raised her hand and pointed to the row of dark control panels in the center of the room.

"This protocol is run by machines. If a machine runs, there's a way to stop it." She looked around at everyone. "The Control Console is right here. Instead of discussing how to break down the wall, let's ask this wall what key it recognizes."

Gwen Stacy looked down at the Control Console.

The screen was black. But when she had just cut off the power supply valve, she clearly saw the indicator light on the terminal at the very back flash.

It's not a power outage.

It's the standby light.

She crouched down, brushed away decades of dust from under the control panel with her fingertips, revealing a line of small etched characters underneath.

The moment she saw those words, her breath caught in her throat.

That's the standard number for the management Management Committee.

The serial number ends with the three letters LNH.