A Silent Simulation of the Top-Secret Route, Lynn Alone Against Forty-Two Attempts

Deep space, devoid of stars and light.

A special intrusion vessel codenamed "Messenger" is stealthily traversing the Dimension rifts with absolute silence. All its external armor is coated with Non-Euclidean Coating capable of absorbing and refracting probe waves, drifting silently like a speck of dust toward that forgotten ruin.

Inside the ship, in the Command Cabin.

There was none of the grandeur of the Nibelung, nor the orderly arrangement of the Liaison Office office; only cold metal bulkheads and the monotonous hum of the minimal life support system.

Lynn sat alone in front of the Control Console.

What lay before him was not a complex Star Map or Fleet data, but a separate, portable terminal physically isolated from the ship's main systems. The terminal's casing was made of lead-ceramic, ancient and bulky, and its only interface was a thick Physical Data Cable.

He is reviewing a document.

A torn, altered, and nearly unrecognizable fragment of a record.

Document Number: [Execution—Forty-Second Attempt—Fragment].

This is the true trump card left behind by that mysterious person.

The medium for recording was not text, but a raw Data Stream that had been forcibly intercepted and recorded interactions on a spiritual level. Lynn imported it into his Private Terminal and replayed the silent war frame by frame at an extremely slow speed.

Data Stream unfolds.

It was a pure white, boundless spiritual space.

The Executioners in TVA did not use any physical means. They constructed a conceptual "Anchor," a Mental Implant woven from countless logical chains of obedience, identification, and belonging.

Its shape is a Silver Cross radiating a soft glow.

Its goal is to be driven into the deepest part of Lynn's Sea of Consciousness, becoming the absolute foundation of all his thoughts and emotions.

[Absolute Obedience].

Once the implantation is successful, Lynn will no longer be himself, but will become TVA's most loyal, selfless, and efficient tool. All his struggles and schemes will vanish into nothingness.

In the scene, the Silver Cross slowly floated towards the ball of light representing Lynn's core consciousness.

There was no resistance.

There was no struggle.

Lynn's ball of consciousness even opened a crack on its own, as if welcoming its arrival.

TVA's backstage monitoring staff were probably already preparing to pop the champagne at that moment.

However, just as the Silver Cross was about to touch the core, a sudden change occurred.

From that open crack, what surged forth was not submission and acceptance, but a torrent.

A torrent of endless, chaotic, contradictory, and redundant data.

Those were every identity Lynn had experienced, every emotion he had felt, and every cosmic variable he had witnessed in countless simulations.

He was the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. was riddled with bullets for Wanda, the New York vigilante who fell from the Clock Tower for Gwen Stacy, and the Asgard soldier who shielded Hela from the Gungnir... These memories, these emotions, these redundant data that the system had deemed "useless" and archived, were all awakened by Lynn at this moment.

How can an absolutely loyal soldier understand a traitor who betrayed the God-King?

How can a hero who is fearless in the face of death be compatible with a coward who is afraid of dying?

The existence of countless completely different, even contradictory, "Lynn" forms the most terrifying logical paradox.

The torrent of data instantly overwhelmed the delicate and fragile Silver Cross.

The Anchor of "Absolute Obedience" is polluted, eroded, and rewritten by a massive amount of contradictory information. The singular and pure logic it represents crumbles rapidly like a sandcastle under the Impact of these multidimensional variables.

Even more frightening is that the contaminated Anchor did not disappear.

Like a Messenger carrying a deadly virus, it followed the Mind Link it came from and launched a devastating backflow into TVA's backend Mainframe.

It was a silent, conceptual avalanche.

Recording ends here.

Lynn's fingertips tapped lightly on the cold control panel.

He preserved his autonomy and, in turn, paralyzed the Mind-Control Mainframe of a TVA branch office.

This is his biggest trump card.

It wasn't the power he gained from the simulator, nor the female heroes who went mad because of him, but his soul, forged in countless deaths and betrayals, that was both indestructible and capable of transforming into Chaos at any moment.

"The Clockmaker..."

Lynn whispered the code name that Hark had revealed.

He was almost certain that this "Clockmaker" was the one who orchestrated the Forty-Second Execution and attempted to implant the Anchor of "Absolute Obedience" in his mind.

This person is definitely not low-ranking in TVA.

Only he, after the plan failed and the Mainframe was contaminated and backflowed, would go to such lengths to erase the signature on the agreement and attempt to destroy all related files.

What he wanted to cover up was not Lynn's existence, but his own crushing defeat.

This time, luring Natasha to kill Gwen Stacy and having the Bloodfang Fleet intercept the Shuttle were all to stir up trouble within the Management Committee, giving him a chance to retrieve the original execution file from Zero Storage Room amidst the chaos and erase the traces of his failure.

At this moment, the "Clockmaker" probably had no idea that the tattered scroll recording his greatest stain had already fallen into his hands.

Lynn turned off the terminal, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

Going to the XN-734 Ruins to keep the appointment with that mysterious man was part of his scheme. He wanted to see who, besides the "Clockmaker," held this card and had chosen to hand it to him.

Whether they are friend or foe, the truth will be revealed when the time comes.

At that very moment.

In an inconspicuous corner of the Control Console, a red warning light flashed silently.

There were no piercing alarms, no violent tremors.

This is the highest level of silence warning from the Messenger satellite.

Lynn opened his eyes.

He looked at the main screen in front of him, which displayed Curvature Navigation Route Map leading to the coordinates of the XN-734 Ruins.

The path graph itself is not abnormal.

But outside the coordinate point representing the destination, a previously empty, dark area is now marked with a huge, constantly writhing shadow.

The system's automatic analysis displayed a line of cold, white text next to the shadow.

[WARNING: Unknown Energy Discontinuity detected.]

[Curvature Model cannot be parsed.]

[Recommendation: Immediately deviate from the flight path.]