In S.H.I.E.L.D.'s underground server room, the air conditioner hummed quietly, and hundreds of server indicators blinked red and green in the dark.
Tom and Jerry had already removed the ventilation grate, and Voss crawled out of the duct first, followed by Artoria and Aqua.
"Finally." Voss stretched his stiff neck. "Air ducts are not designed for normal people."
"My dress is filthy. These vents are disgusting."
Aqua immediately used a purification spell to clean herself. Very convenient.
Voss briefly wondered if he should stop selling washing detergent altogether and just toss Aqua directly into a washing machine.
Aqua suddenly shivered, as if she sensed someone thinking something disturbing about her.
"Focus." Artoria scanned the room carefully. "We need to move quickly."
Tom pulled a small flashlight from his toolkit and shined it around.
The room was massive — easily the size of two basketball courts — rows upon rows of server racks with wide aisles in between.
"So this is S.H.I.E.L.D.'s data center?" Voss muttered. "It's even bigger than I expected."
Jerry jumped up onto a server rack and tapped the casing. It made a sharp metallic clang.
"Don't make noise!" Aqua hissed anxiously. "What if someone hears us?"
"Relax," Voss said, pointing at the thick reinforced walls. "This room is sound-isolated. And it's early morning — there shouldn't be any techs around."
Tom put on his black-rim glasses and opened his laptop. He quickly found a data port and plugged in a cable.
"What's he doing?" Artoria asked.
"Hacking S.H.I.E.L.D.'s main control systems," Voss said. "If we get admin privileges, we can pull all Insight data — maybe even directly shut the whole thing down."
Tom's paws flew across the keyboard, windows of scrolling code flashing nonstop.
Jerry assisted him, taking out tiny specialized electronics to support the decryption.
"These two are seriously professional…" Aqua leaned in, staring at the screen. "I don't understand any of this."
"You can barely handle basic math," Voss said. "Of course you don't."
"I'm just not good with numbers!"
"Shh." Artoria raised a finger to her lips. "Footsteps."
Everyone froze.
There were slow footsteps in the hallway — and the crackle of a walkie-talkie.
"Patrol," Voss whispered. "Routine check."
The steps came right up to the server room door… then stopped.
"B3 server room clear," the guard reported.
"Copy. Move along."
The footsteps faded away, and they finally exhaled in relief.
"That was way too close…" Aqua clutched her chest.
Tom ignored all the tension and kept working. He broke through the first firewall and was now elevating permissions.
"How long?" Voss asked quietly.
Tom raised one paw — almost there. The progress bar slowly moved — DECRYPTING…
Jerry meanwhile ran down the aisle and inspected equipment. He stopped at a standalone server marked INSIGHT PROJECT.
"What did Jerry find?" Artoria asked.
Voss walked over. "A dedicated Insight server… that means all the primary data is stored here."
Jerry gestured — he needed help.
Tom instantly understood. He disconnected from the previous port, rushed over, and plugged into the Insight server directly.
"If this works, we can pull the target list." Voss said. "And maybe find a shutdown method."
The security was stronger — this crack would take longer.
"Master," Artoria asked, "If Project Insight plans to wipe out twenty million people… why are we still alive?"
Voss paused. "…you're thinking Pierce has a secondary objective."
"Possibly he wants us to witness Insight succeed before killing us," Artoria reasoned. "Or he wants to use us."
"Use us? What for?" Aqua frowned.
"I'm a writer," Voss said bitterly. "Maybe he wants propaganda material."
Aqua scoffed. "As if you'd ever write positive PR for Hydra."
"Exactly." Voss shook his head. "Anyway — focus."
Tom suddenly entered the database — countless files appeared.
"Got it!" Voss grinned.
There were files labeled: target list, weapon systems, launch schedule, personnel hierarchy, etc.
"Open the target list."
Tom clicked it.
Rows of faces and names filled the screen.
Steve Rogers. Nick Fury. Maria Hill. Tony Stark.
"Even Stark's lined up for elimination…?" Voss frowned. "Hydra's aiming to wipe every potential threat in one sweep."
Artoria stared at the names. "What connects all these people?"
"They're all potential resistors," Voss said. "Scientists, soldiers, politicians, journalists — anyone who might interfere."
"A-are we on the list?" Aqua asked hesitantly.
Tom typed "VOSS" — and found his file immediately.
"Voss Nibba. Writer. Threat level: moderate," Voss read aloud.
"Note: Exhibits anomalous predictive capacity. Requires further study."
"See?" Artoria said quietly. "They're interested in you."
"What about us?" Aqua pointed at herself and Artoria.
Tom searched — nothing.
"You two aren't officially flagged yet." Voss exhaled. "Good."
Jerry tugged Voss's pant leg, then pointed at another file.
Weapon configuration.
Voss opened it.
Each Helicarrier — Insight 01, 02, 03 — was loaded with cutting-edge automated weapons and precision target ID.
"Each carrier can hit one thousand targets per minute," Voss read. "All three together? They can theoretically exterminate every target in minutes."
"That's insane…" Aqua turned pale.
"This is Hydra's ideology." Artoria's voice cooled. "Rule through terror and mass murder."
Tom scrolled further — and suddenly froze.
He found something strange.