The open reprimand in red ink, the cold move of confinement to the defense zone

Inside the main cabin, the light was dim.

The Holographic Image had faded, Hela's disdainful expression and Lynn's cold, vermilion-inked handwriting seemed to still burn in the air, imprinted on Natasha's retina.

"If the blade points inward, it will surely wound your own hand."

"You can write this 30,000-word self-criticism slowly in the defense zone."

The red light on the communicator went out completely, and the cabin returned to deathly silence.

Natasha remained seated, motionless, only her knuckles, resting on the table, were slightly white from excessive force.

We lost.

From the moment she conceived the idea of hiding the Probe at the bottom of the Archive Cabinet in Zero Storage Room, every step she took led her into Lynn's carefully laid trap.

He not only anticipated that she would plant Probe, but also that she would use the contents of the Probe to provoke the harp. He even took into account how the harp would react and how Hela and Wanda would protect themselves.

The most ruthless step he took was to attribute the discovery of the Probe to Hela.

This effectively cemented Natasha's reputation as someone who "sowed discord and framed a colleague." Hela, having benefited from the situation, was naturally happy to cooperate in the charade. Natasha, on the other hand, became the clown who was slapped in public but didn't even have the right to protest her innocence.

As for that anonymous secret letter that lured her to kill Gwen Stacy...

Natasha's lips curled into a barely perceptible, cold smile.

That might not have been a third-party force at all, but rather another arrangement by Lynn. A bait to test her limits, a smokescreen to draw all her attention to Gwen Stacy.

While she cleverly devised a scheme to "use someone else's knife to kill" and lead the interstellar raiders toward Gwen Stacy's route, Lynn's ship had already turned around and headed toward the real ruins that held the secrets— Timeline XN-734.

What a clever feint, a clever escape!

Natasha slowly rose and walked to the porthole. Outside the window was a deep, boundless void, with the occasional distant Stardust flashing by, cold and lonely, just like her state of mind at that moment.

She raised her hand and swiped a few times on the control panel on the porthole, bringing up a dynamic Star Map.

Three light trails appeared clearly before my eyes.

One of them was Lynn's vehicle, the Nibelung," resolutely heading towards that restricted area with the highest level of stealth.

The other was her own medium-sized starship, whose course was locked by an invisible command, like Prison Ship being exiled, heading straight for T--03 Defense Zone.

The third path was Gwen Stacy's lone light Shuttle, slowly sailing along a secluded route towards the trap she had laid herself.

Natasha's gaze lingered on that third light trail for a long time.

Killed Gwen Stacy?

The thought flashed through her mind, but she quickly suppressed it.

With Gwen Stacy dead, Lynn will be the first to settle scores with after her return. No matter how clean she is, she won't be able to shake off suspicion. At that point, she will completely lose her foothold on the Management Committee.

This is a dead end.

But what if Gwen Stacy hadn't died?

A complex glint flashed in Natasha's eyes. She returned to her desk, her fingertips flying across an encrypted tactical terminal.

On the screen, detailed information about the "Bloodfang" raiders popped up.

A former TVA cleaner, he became an outlaw after being laid off. He is ruthless and greedy, but his organization is loose and only cares about profit.

Her original plan was to leak Gwen Stacy's flight path, then offer her a huge reward, so that "Bloodfang" could create an "accident" that would be done flawlessly.

Now, she has a new idea.

She pulled up the secret report from the mole again and read Lynn's comment, "Write slowly in the defense zone," several times.

He was confined to his quarters, reprimanded, and required to write a 30,000-word self-criticism.

This is to completely shut her down in paperwork, turning her into a mere spectator in this most crucial round of power struggles.

Natasha turned off all the screens and took out a stack of brand-new blank official documents with the Management Committee's watermark from a nearby locker.

She then selected the finest nib from the pen rack.

She unscrewed the pen cap and, stroke by stroke, neatly wrote a title at the top of the page.

A profound self-criticism regarding procedural oversights and a lack of overall perspective in recent internal affairs inspections.

The handwriting is elegant and powerful.

It was as if she had truly resigned herself to her fate and was prepared to devote all her energy to this protracted self-punishment.

However, just as she put down her pen and wrote the first word, her left hand silently pressed the send button on the tactical terminal under the desk.

A triple-encrypted command, transformed into an invisible radio wave, shot towards the dark star field outside the T-03 Defense Zone.

The instruction was very short, consisting of only a few words.

"Target changed. Assassination mission abandoned."

"At all costs, 'invite' Gwen Stacy Stacy to the T-03 Defense Zone."

"I want to live."