The Starport Standoff on the Brink of Force, the Stability Maintenance Office's Live-Troop Exercise

Central Hub Starport, Liaison Office.

The office was eerily quiet.

The only sounds in the air were the barely audible hum of the fresh air system and a faint, extremely low-frequency engine resonance seeping in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. That was proof that the Nibelung ship, hovering in mid-air, was adjusting its attitude.

Jean Grey stood by the window.

The massive muzzle of the secondary gun, like a silent, Abyss -like giant eye, was reflected in her calm, waveless iris.

She didn't turn around, but she could feel the suppressed breathing of her subordinates behind her. These civilian cadres, who were adept at navigating the sea of official documents and procedures, were now like fish out of water with their throats being choked, each breath filled with fear.

Qin's official letter, the formal document requesting that Stability Maintenance Office Director Hela, intervene and conduct third-party arbitration regarding the Department of Technology's overreach of authority, was like a pebble thrown into a deep pool.

It didn't cause a ripple.

Instead, a tsunami struck.

A slight tremor came from the building's foundation.

Immediately following was the sound of synchronized, metallic footsteps that seemed capable of crushing bones, rapidly converging from the central avenue below.

A Senior Clerk, his face ashen, strode quickly behind Qin, his voice strained.

"Special Envoy Excellency, the Black Armor Guard from the Stability Maintenance Office have sealed off the entire A-3 area where our building is located."

Another supervisor, trying to appear calm, added that the monitor screen in front of him displayed dozens of images, each showing a suffocating scene.

"They... are deploying Mobile Artillery Platform, and the muzzles... all of them are pointed at our building."

The official letter received no reply.

The arbitration was not accepted.

Hela responded in the most direct and blunt way.

She flipped the table.

"Under the pretext of ' Defend Against Enemy Infiltration,' we conducted Live-Fire Tactical Exercise."

Qin repeated the official announcement she had just intercepted from the Public Channel in a low voice, a barely perceptible smile curving her lips, cold and devoid of warmth.

What a great "Live-Fire Exercise"!

This effectively designated the Liaison Office as a potential enemy.

"Buzz--"

A deep, resonant energy hummed, causing the entire glass curtain wall of the building to resonate.

Downstairs, a menacing Siege Cannon completed its final charging and calibration. The eerie blue glow from its muzzle stabilized, locking onto the top floor of the Liaison Office office building, where Qin was currently located.

Tensions were high.

Rules are being crushed to dust inch by inch in the face of absolute force.

The atmosphere in the office had shifted from tense to despair.

A young clerk could no longer hold on and asked in a trembling voice, "Sir, should we... should we request emergency assistance from the Director's Office?"

Within the Management Committee's system, this was the only lifeline they could think of.

Qin did not answer.

She simply gazed quietly out the window.

Black armor, black banners, black cannon muzzles.

The "aesthetics of death" Stability Maintenance Office, with its unquestionable domineering style, has turned the Liaison Office—a building representing procedures and rules—into an isolated island.

She knew this was Hela's demonstration, and also a test for her.

It was also a blatant challenge to the power of the Director was on an unknown course and remotely controlling the overall situation.

Hela was forcing her to submit.

They forced her to rescind the Inventory Audit Order secret supplies for the Stability Maintenance Office office.

As soon as she signs a document, the troops downstairs and the warships overhead will instantly retreat, as if nothing had ever happened.

But Qin was equally clear that once she backed down, things would become very difficult.

In the power struggle among the top Management Committee, she, the newly appointed "Multiverse Crisis Response Special Envoy," will be completely reduced to an insignificant figurehead.

"Your Mightiness..."

The voice behind me had become pleading.

They are afraid of death.

Qin slowly turned around.

There was no anger, no fear, and not even the slightest tension on her face.

That calmness sent a strange chill down the spines of all her subordinates who saw her expression.

She didn't seem like a civilian official forced into a position by force; rather, she seemed like a spectator enjoying a crude drama with great interest.

"What's the panic?"

The sound of the zither was soft, yet it reached everyone's ears clearly.

"The Stability Maintenance Office is just conducting a 'drill'."

She walked to her desk, ignoring the communication requests that were flashing red alerts on the screen.

She ignored all the indirect inquiries from other departments.

Under the astonished and uncertain gazes of all her subordinates, Jean Grey calmly straightened her perfectly wrinkle-free cuffs.

Then, she slowly took an object out of her sleeve.

That's not a weapon.

It's not Communicator either.

It was a token that was entirely black, neither gold nor jade.

The token's material is peculiar; it seems to absorb all the surrounding light, yet it feels warm to the touch.

Its design is extremely simple, without any superfluous decorations.

Only in the very center of the token is a private seal engraved in an ancient and vigorous style.

That mark was something all the senior clerks present had seen on the highest-level Top Secret documents of the Management Committee.

That was Director Lynn's Personal Seal.

A black, highest-level Privilege Token.