Ants and Guest houses -70

Hank Pym scrolled through thousands of pictures his ants had taken for him. There were a great many useless pictures since no matter how much he might try, ants just aren't all that smart.

It didn't help either that there was only a small moment to take the picture as it was printed and fell down onto the pile.

Then, something that made Hank curse countless times already was the fact that many of those prints were almost entirely redacted! What is the damn point of printing a full page with only a handful of words on it readable?

Then, there was the problem of his ants not being able to take pictures of every page that was printed. Sometimes he got one page from dozens and lost all the context, to the point that just trying to figure out what they were discussing gave him a headache.

Hundreds of pages were transcripts of interviews with something referred to as D-class about this and that object. But without the object being described at all he couldn't glean much information from them at all.

It took hours of sorting through the mountains of useless pictures to get some useful ones. A few summary pages about some of those SCP objects. Even as he read these highly classified files, he couldn't help but be in disbelief.

 These files all described a myriad of these so-called SCP objects. Each one being unique in its own impossible fantastical way. There was one document mentioning the one labelled as 2399 which seemed to be some kind of dangerous alien tech.

He didn't know what the classification Keter meant, but from what little he could glean about this object, it seemed to be hidden on Jupiter, of all places. Another one, which was a lot less redacted, seemed to be none other than the scientist Bruce Banner, a name even Hank had heard of before.

As far as he knew, he was supposed to be on the run from the military after those fools messed with things they shouldn't have. Apparently, poor Banner had turned into some kind of dangerous failed super soldier.

 Hank carefully placed every picture that seemed to mention Banner into a folder for themselves, something he could research at a later point for sure. He also found a file for Ava Starr, labelled SCP-11111.

This one wasn't new to him. He had seen it as he worked on helping the girl. Yet that one had clearly been redacted, as he found a clue as to how they kept her from phasing out and escaping here—something called a Scranton Reality Anchor.

He had wanted to know how they kept her trapped for a while, believing he might be able to use that method to help her further, yet they had claimed it was classified information. Now he finally had a clue and made sure to keep an eye out for any other mention of this technology.

As Hank continued to read through what he had gotten he grew more and more amazed at the absolute nonsense he was reading. These things were all but impossible. Having no basic in any science.

Normally Hank would have dismissed all of this madness he was reading, yet these people clearly didn't want him to know about it, all so secretive. There just had to be something here, something real.

Still, he wasn't totally sold just yet. He needed more proof, and from what he had overheard, they were bringing one of these SCP objects over here. He hadn't seen anything about it in the files, yet with how random the ones he had were, he couldn't really expect more.

'Now I just need to keep the little ones going and find out what this Reality Anchor is.' Hank thought as he used his thought-wave transmitter to have his ants look for more about this piece of tech; with a name, he was certain he would get something soon enough.

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Hank Pym was a man who had done great things in his life. He was also incredibly proud and stubborn. Overall, he wasn't the most pleasant guy around. All this was well known to the members of the Foundation.

As was the fact that he was spying on them, trying to figure out their secrets. They knew this and would normally have been merciless to such behaviours. Yet they not only allowed Hank to continue, but they also carefully fed him what he needed to know.

All this was due to one thing he had that the Foundation dearly wanted. Something Hank wouldn't allow to get into their hands, something they needed to be sneaky about, the Pym particle.

More than that, they wanted him to work on one of their most important technologies, the Scranton Reality Anchor. It was a very precious piece of tech, and equally fragile. The best minds of the Foundation had concluded that it wouldn't work well with the Pym Particle, which was why they hadn't already stolen it.

They needed Hank Pym, the man who knew his own creation the best. To make them a custom version that would work for the anchor. They knew that Hank would never help them if they asked. No he would need to feel it was his idea, that he was in control and in charge.

Countless resources were pushed toward this project. Even a large amount of the precious metal SCP-148 was granted to SITE-98 to ensure that the plan of the higher-ups could be carried out.

Whatever endgame they had, they were willing to pay any price to see it become a reality; even Pym technologies had been secretly bought and were controlled from the shadows, not even that Darren Cross figure knew about it thanks to a strong dose of amnestics.

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[The Alps]

After having purged Japan of the last trace of the filth that was Hydra, Xu Wenwu set his sights on the Kree corpse and the drug made from it. Taking that would be another blow to the murders of his wife, no matter if they called themselves SHIELD or Hydra.

There would be no mercy to them. They might have fled Asia before his wrath fully consumed them. But there was no place in the world they could hide from him; sooner rather than later, he would end them all.

First, he would get his wife back and have her watch over their children while he finished cleaning up his enemies. This meant that he would raid the Guesthouse and then take the trembling prisoner from The Hand over to meet the others and get their serum.

Once that was done he could focus on getting into Ta Lo and perfecting the two means of resurrection so they were safe enough to be used on his wife, already now he had ideas for how to accomplish that.

Finding the secret facility hadn't been easy; there were no tracks that could be found by his agents and spies. Even having the ability to draw information from the World Security Council hadn't given him anything.

It was only really, thanks to Ricci handing over some information about some of his own hideouts in these mountains, that he had been able to narrow it down to the point he could send people out to scout.

An army of foot soldiers did have their use, and soon enough, they had found their target. Looking at it, Wenwu could see why it was so difficult to find; it was little more than a small plateau with a large metal door hidden by rocks.

Its secrecy was indeed a most potent defence, yet it hadn't been enough to stop him, and neither would whatever other defences they had in store for him. "Follow behind me." He commanded his men as he jumped out from the helicopter that had brought him up there. His men would just have to land and take the slower approach.

Wenwu didn't as much fall as he flew down towards the large doors. Both his arms were stretched out and pointed towards said doors while he Ten Rings on his arms hummed with ancient energy, ready to be unleashed.

Wenwu's tightly clenched fists, covered in the crackling energy of his rings, impacted the heavy doors with a deafening crash, which kicked up a great cloud of dust, snow, and debris. Unwilling to wait for his men to catch up he dove deeper into the depths of the secret facility.

Inside the facility, alarms blared. The few people permanently stationed in this remote place scrambled to their feet and stations as the walls shook around them. The agents inside the Guesthouse were few, trained for secrecy rather than battle. They grabbed their weapons, but their hands trembled.

They knew what it meant for this place to be under attack. They knew what they had to do. They would either repel the attackers, or they would die here. Their bodies would be reduced to ash by the very explosives they had to arm.

With their hands trembling and their hearts heavy, they rushed to their posts and armed the many, many bombs all around them. Sweaty palms gripped tightly around their guns as she took position, ready to shoot whoever had attacked.

Wenwu prowled through the hallway; he had expected heavier resistance, but so far, he hadn't met any safe expect the doors themselves. 

Wenwu's anticipation grew with each step, the silence of the facility unnerving yet expected. The lack of immediate resistance didn't fool him; he knew the nature of those who guarded such secrets. They would rather destroy everything than let it fall into his hands. But he was determined, driven by a love lost and a promise unfulfilled.

The operatives who had followed him into the depths of the Guesthouse moved with precision, checking each corner and shadow for potential threats. Their loyalty to Wenwu was absolute, their skills honed through countless battles. Yet, nothing could have prepared them for the quiet dread that filled the halls of the facility.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of gunfire. A lone agent, concealed behind a barricade, unleashed a barrage of bullets toward Wenwu and his men. The Ten Rings flared to life, creating a shield around their master as he advanced, unharmed by the gunfire.

With a flick of his wrist, Wenwu sent a ring spiraling towards the agent, knocking the weapon from their grasp and rendering them unconscious. He admired their courage, even as he pitied their futile resistance.

Another agent peeked around from a corner only to be hit by dozens of bullets from some of Wenwu's men and died after all shooting off a single burst of his own. With his death, the facility grew deathly quiet for a moment as everyone waited.

Yet no more people showed up to attack, and in the peace, they quickly spotted the explosives covering the walls and ceiling and alerted their boss.

Wenwu quickly took notice of the situation and ordered his men to investigate, for while he wasn't afraid for his own safety he did worry about the goal of his trip here. "My lord, here." Someone called out and showed him a device showing a timer and asking for a password.

 It just so happened that one of the guards of this place wasn't dead yet, so he would happily supply the code, one way or another. The wounded guard was awoken and found himself face to face with a living legend, even if he didn't know that.

Wenwu approached the guard, his presence alone a commanding force. "The code," he demanded, his voice calm but laced with an unspoken threat. The rings on his arms pulsed with energy, a visual testament to the power at his disposal and the futility of resistance.

Groaning, the guard hissed, "Go to hell," and spat at the Mandarin. That quickly proved to have been a bad move as Wenwu knew that time was limited so he didn't play around.

"Wrong choice, worm," he growled and placed a hand on the man's head. His rings flaring with power, he closed his eyes, and while the guard screamed of pain and agony unimaginable. 

The guard's screams echoed through the once silent hallways, a chilling reminder of the stakes involved. Wenwu's face remained impassive, the ancient rings glowing ominously as they extracted the information directly from the guard's mind—a brutal, but effective method reserved for moments when time was of the essence. As the guard's body slumped, lifeless, Wenwu obtained the code he sought.

Wenwu turned to the device and entered the code with precision. The timer halted immediately, the threat of explosion averted. He stood, a momentary shadow of regret passing over his features for the necessary cruelty, but it was quickly replaced by the resolve that had brought him this far.

With the immediate danger neutralized, Wenwu gestured for his men to continue. They moved with renewed urgency, aware that every second brought them closer to their ultimate goal. The facility, though compromised, still held secrets and potentially, the key to his wife's return.

The corridors of the Guesthouse stretched out like a maze, but Wenwu's intuition, honed by years of combat and strategy, guided them unerringly toward their destination. An advanced Lab filled with medicine and drugs.

Wenwu wasn't an expert in such things, so he simply ordered his men to grab everything. Boxes were filled one by one, and drugs and notes were taken along. Pictures were taken of the placement so that scientists under his own employ could figure everything out.

It didn't take long before another room was found which held what they sought. A clearly alien corpse and all kinds of advanced machinery connected to it clearly making some kinds of drugs.

Everything was brought along, and his helicopters had to make multiple trips to have it all loaded into large trucks and moved on to safe places before being sent back to China. As a final act Wenwu rearmed the explosives before leaving and watched on from above as the facility exploded.

A/N

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