The elevator hummed as it descended through the Triskelion, the floor numbers on the digital panel ticking down one by one. Voss kept his eyes on the display, silently counting the seconds.
It was four in the morning. Less than twelve hours until Project Insight launched. He wondered what Steve and the others were doing right now—had they found a way to stop it?
"You look nervous," Rumlow observed.
"It's my first time in a place like this," Voss said, wiping his palms against his pants. "Feels like stepping into some movie villain's secret base."
Rumlow smirked. "It certainly does."
The elevator stopped on the thirty-second floor. The doors slid open, revealing a brightly lit corridor patrolled by armed S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Their eyes were cold and sharp—nothing like Coulson's.
"This way." Rumlow gestured for them to follow.
As they walked, Voss took in his surroundings. Offices lined both sides of the hall, and through the glass walls, he could see agents still at their desks despite the late hour. Hydra really was working overtime to get Project Insight off the ground.
"Master," Artoria whispered softly, "I sense strong malice."
Voss gave the faintest nod. Her instincts as a Servant were sharper than any machine. If she felt it, danger was everywhere.
"This place is massive," Voss said aloud, feigning curiosity. "How many people actually work here?"
"About twenty thousand," Rumlow replied casually. "This is the headquarters of the world's largest intelligence agency."
"Twenty thousand?" Voss widened his eyes. "How much does that cost in salaries?"
Inwardly, he cursed. Damn it, Nick Fury. Just how much are you siphoning off every year?
Rumlow blinked, thrown off by the comment. Of all the questions he expected, payroll wasn't one of them.
"You don't need to worry about salaries," Rumlow muttered. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has good benefits."
"I'm not applying for a job," Voss said, shaking his head. "Just curious."
Aqua bit her lip, struggling not to laugh. As a goddess, money meant nothing to her, but the fact Voss was actually fixating on salaries in this situation was… well, kind of hilarious.
Meanwhile, Tom and Jerry kept up their act in the carrier. Tom yawned. Jerry stayed curled against him. But both were secretly studying the area with sharp eyes.
At the end of the corridor stood a reinforced metal door with an advanced electronic lock. Rumlow pressed his hand to the scanner and typed in a long code.
"Identity confirmed. Rumlow, Special Operations Captain." The system's synthetic voice chimed.
"Access granted."
The heavy door swung open, revealing a spacious, almost luxurious office. Alexander Pierce sat behind a polished desk, sipping coffee with a pleasant smile.
"Welcome, Mr. Voss." Pierce stood and stepped forward. "Forgive me for calling you in at such a late hour."
"No problem. I'm a night owl anyway," Voss replied with a friendly grin. "It's an honor to finally meet you, Mr. Pierce."
"The honor is mine." Pierce shook his hand warmly. "I've read your novel—it left quite an impression."
"Thanks," Voss said, scratching his head as if embarrassed. "Honestly, it's not very good. I just made stuff up."
Pierce's smile deepened. "Don't be modest. Your imagination is remarkable. Especially your depiction of Hydra—it's so… vivid."
"Hydra?" Voss tilted his head in mock confusion. "Oh, you mean the villains in my book?"
"Exactly." Pierce walked back to his desk. "Tell me, how did you come up with that idea?"
"I just thought it up," Voss shrugged. "If a secret group wanted to take over the world, they'd have to infiltrate governments, brainwash key people, and eventually pull off a coup. Pretty obvious, right?"
Pierce nodded slowly. "That does make sense. And tell me—if such an organization really existed, how should they be stopped?"
Voss furrowed his brow, pretending to think deeply. "Hard to say. If they're that deeply entrenched, normal methods won't work."
"For example?" Pierce asked, clearly intrigued.
"Well, calling the police or reporting to the government wouldn't help much," Voss said, spreading his hands. "If those systems are compromised, who can you even trust?"
"That's the dilemma, isn't it?" Pierce said softly, sipping his coffee. "So what would work?"
"You'd need to find the few who aren't compromised and band together," Voss said. "But even then, it's dangerous. You'd never know who's friend or foe."
Pierce smiled faintly, almost playfully. "Very perceptive. In such a world, trust becomes both the greatest strength and the greatest risk."
The air grew heavier. Voss caught the hidden meaning in Pierce's words but kept his expression guileless.
"Mr. Pierce," he said with a smile, "you didn't call me here just to workshop novel ideas, did you?"
"Of course not." Pierce set down his cup, his tone sharpening. "What I want to know is—where exactly do you get your inspiration?"
"My inspiration?" Voss tapped his chin, pretending to think. "Mostly history books. News articles."
"History books?"
"Yeah. Hydra was a real group in World War II, right?" Voss said. "They were destroyed, but I thought the idea was interesting enough for fiction."
Pierce's expression darkened. "Do you really believe Hydra was destroyed?"
"Sure," Voss said with a weak laugh. "It's been seventy years. Even if some survived, they'd be dead by now."
"And what if they weren't?" Pierce asked, his voice cutting. "What if they've been in the shadows all this time, waiting for the right moment? Just as you wrote."
Voss widened his eyes. "That… that would be terrifying! The whole world would be in danger!"
"Dangerous?" Pierce rose and walked to the window. "Perhaps for some. But for others—it would be salvation."
"Salvation?" Voss echoed, keeping his clueless act. "How could Hydra possibly save the world? Weren't they terrorists?"
Pierce turned back, locking eyes with him. "Mr. Voss, do you truly believe the world is safe now?"
"Uh…" Voss fumbled deliberately. "I mean, sure, there are problems. But overall? It's not that bad."
"Terrorism. Nuclear threats. Alien invasions," Pierce said coldly. "Humanity faces crises it has never seen before. And governments are powerless to stop them."
"Then… what do you think should be done?" Voss asked carefully.
Pierce's voice hardened, almost reverent. "We need an organization stronger than governments. One not shackled by politics. One with the will to act."
Voss thought sourly: Here we go—the Hydra gospel according to Pierce.
"That sounds like a dictatorship," Voss said, feigning unease.
"Dictatorship?" Pierce smiled thinly. "If dictatorship can save humanity, then why fear the word?"
At that, Artoria's fists clenched at her sides. As a former king, nothing enraged her more than perverted justifications for tyranny.
Even Aqua sensed the malice in Pierce's words. For once, she was deadly serious.
"Mr. Pierce, you don't actually believe Hydra is good, do you?" Voss asked, widening his eyes in mock horror.
"Hydra?" Pierce returned to his desk. "Their philosophy may not be wrong. Only their methods… a little too extreme."
"But they killed innocent people!" Voss shot back.
"For the greater good, sacrifices must be made," Pierce said coldly. "You wouldn't understand. You're just a writer—you don't carry the burden of saving the world."
Finally, Voss thought, the mask slips.
"So, Mr. Pierce," he asked calmly, "why did you really bring me here?"
Pierce leaned forward, his expression sharpening. "I want to know… how did you learn about Project Insight?"