A saga cut short -204

Even once he got back to SITE-009, Alexander was still thinking about his decision and his action. He had personally ended a large chapter of the Marvel universe, not just the MCU but the wider world of all things Marvel.

The entire saga of Ant-Man would never happen now. Even the entire saga about the quantum realm would forever be but a distant dream.

His actions had even the possibility of more people entering and exploring that strange place, he had made it an impossible to reach place by killing those who knew about it, all those who might have a chance at entering it.

The entire Pym family was gone, and even Darren Cross was a cold corpse at this point. And thanks to Hank's own efforts at stopping others from continuing his research, there was none left outside of Foundation hands.

Alexander knew little about the quantum realm, only that Hank's wife was stuck there, and that it was possible to use it to time travel, plus that it contained the Marvel zombie virus, something that wasn't needed since the SCP universe had a dozen or so of those to go around.

Even though he knew he had done the right thing by killing off Hank, he was still saddened by the fact that he had really settled into the villain role this time. If someone from a higher dimension like the original Alex watched him right now, they would undoubtedly call him an evil villain.

It was something he was prepared for; he knew that few could truly understand the difficulty of his mission, of the Foundation's mission; over the years, countless people had cursed them. Sometimes even for real.

Yet what remained of the higher-leveled soul's consciousness clearly still had heroes held to another level, making even him feel somewhat guilty despite the necessity of his actions.

Still, he didn't let it weigh on him much; he had done plenty of things that were far worse than this, and he would likely do much more still.

The fact of the matter was that Pym had limited uses and came with too high a risk. The quantum realm carried many dangers, and it was best if that place forever remained a forbidden domain for mankind.

Yes, let his wife die in there, let her body rot and decay, and let the real world remain spinning without the added risks. Alexander would ensure that there was no need for time travel and that there would be no snap.

This world didn't need heroes, it needed leaders, it needed him, it needed the Foundation!

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Earth was a rather special world, it held many secrets, many treasures, and had many people all protecting it. Far more then every other world in the universe.

It had mortals such as Shield trying their best to keep it safe; it had powerful beings like Captain Marvel, someone that, while she wasn't here now, would still defend Earth if she learned it was threatened.

It held The Masters of the Mystic Arts, helmed by the powerful Ancient One, someone that, even on the grand stage of the entire universe, could be considered a top-tier powerhouse.

Even the mighty Asgard, with the All-father, Odin, lent protection to Earth from afar, while even the mighty gods of creation, the Celestials, had left the Eternal to defend humanity.

Each had their own reason for defending Earth, some good, some less so, but it only highlighted the importance of Earth, and the dangers it was in. Even without the SCPs appearing, Earth was a place filled with dangers and crises, though also one brimming with potential.

Adversaries were needed to shape strong defenders; this was something both the people of Marvel knew, and those of the Foundation and Earth had plenty of that.

Even as Alexander, O5-1 of the Foundation, was doing bad things for good reasons, plenty of other people were doing bad things for even worse reasons.

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[New York City]

Deep within the dark alleys of New York City, a figure cloaked in shadows moved with an eerie grace. Known only as the Whisperer, this creature was one of the most dangerous beings hidden in the underbelly of the city. The Whisperer thrived on chaos and fear, feeding on the nightmares of the innocent.

Tonight, the Whisperer had a new target. A prominent politician who had been a thorn in the side of many dark forces. His efforts to clean up the city and root out corruption had earned him powerful enemies. The Whisperer had been hired to ensure he would never pose a threat again.

As the politician left his office late at night, the Whisperer watched from the shadows, his eyes glowing a sinister red. He moved silently, his presence undetectable by the guards and security systems. The Whisperer slipped into the politician's car, hiding in the darkness of the back seat.

When the car started moving, the Whisperer struck. His hand, cold and clammy, reached around to cover the politician's mouth. The man struggled, his eyes wide with terror, but no sound escaped his lips. The Whisperer whispered in his ear, his voice a chilling hiss that echoed with dark power.

"Your time has come," he whispered. "You have meddled in affairs beyond your understanding. Now, you will pay the price."

The politician's struggles grew weaker as the Whisperer's dark magic seeped into his mind, filling him with overwhelming fear and despair. Moments later, the car stopped, and the Whisperer vanished into the night, leaving behind a lifeless body slumped in the back seat.

The news of the politician's sudden death spread quickly, sending shockwaves through the city. His death was ruled a heart attack, but those who knew of the Whisperer's existence understood the true cause. It was a warning to anyone who dared to stand against the dark forces that lurked in the shadows.

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[London]

In the heart of London, another dark force was at work. The Midnight Society, a secretive group of powerful sorcerers and warlocks, had gathered to perform a ritual that would summon a demon of immense power. They had been planning this for months, waiting for the perfect alignment of the stars to ensure their success.

The leader of the Midnight Society, a man known only as Mortis, stood at the center of a large, intricately carved pentagram. His followers, all dressed in dark robes, chanted ancient incantations, their voices rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm.

Mortis raised his hands, his eyes glowing with dark energy. "Tonight, we shall summon a force that will bend to our will and grant us power beyond imagination. Prepare yourselves, for we are about to make history."

As the chanting grew louder, the air in the room crackled with dark energy. The ground beneath the pentagram began to tremble, and a portal slowly opened, revealing a glimpse of a hellish landscape. From within the portal, a monstrous figure began to emerge, its eyes burning with malevolent fire.

Just as the demon was about to step through the portal, a blinding light filled the room, and the chanting stopped abruptly. The portal closed with a thunderous crash, leaving the demon trapped on the other side.

Mortis turned to see a figure standing at the entrance of the chamber, a tall woman with long, flowing hair and eyes that glowed with a soft, golden light. It was none other than the Ancient One.

"Your dark rituals will not succeed," she said, her voice calm but filled with authority. "You have meddled with forces beyond your control, and now you will face the consequences."

With a wave of her hand, the Ancient One sent a blast of energy towards the Midnight Society, breaking their formation and sending them sprawling to the ground. Mortis tried to summon his own dark magic, but it was no match for the Ancient One's power. She bound him and his followers with mystical chains, ensuring they could not escape.

"You will answer for your crimes," she said, her eyes narrowing. "The forces of darkness will not prevail as long as I am here to protect this world."

As the Ancient One escorted the defeated sorcerers to a secure location, she knew that this was only one battle in a larger war. The dark forces were growing bolder, and it was up to her and the other defenders of Earth to keep them at bay.

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These little actions were nothing new; the Ancient One was used to dealing with random fools who thought they could get away with dealing with demons for power. Most of the time, it wasn't even worthy of her personal attention.

Even when someone did reach towards someone truly dangerous, she was more than ready and able to deal with them. This was an old game, and she wasn't about to start losing at it now.

Yet, for the first time in centuries, the game was starting to change. It wasn't really noteworthy yet, but each new SCP, each new month, brought the world closer to chaos, and only the Foundation could bring the world back into balance, but it wouldn't be easy.

However, the Foundation itself could be a great cause of chaos, whatever they would bring peace of chaos remained to be seen, but slowly, people noticed something, someone, and turned their eyes towards the shadows the Foundation moved in.

For now, they remained mostly secret, but for how long could that continue? That was everyone guess at this point.

A/N

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