Chapter 106

Chapter 106

Inside Site-02, deep within a bunker brimming with armed soldiers and cutting-edge technology, lay a room. Small in size, yet it was one of the most heavily protected zones on Earth. At the entrance to this fabled room stood an army of operators, each equipped with weapons bristling with black technology and clad in advanced exoskeletal armor. Their armbands bore the insignia of a hand grabbing an arrow, a chilling emblem of authority and purpose. These operators guarded every wall and door leading to the room, forming an unbreakable shield of vigilance and firepower.

Within the room itself was a simple U-shaped table facing a high-resolution projector. Surrounding the table were thirteen chairs, each occupied by an individual wearing a tailored suit. Each suit bore a distinct designation, from O5-1 to O5-13. These were no ordinary individuals, they were the legendary O5 Council. Feared and revered by all who knew of their existence, both within and beyond the Foundation, their presence was synonymous with power, secrecy, and authority over the unseen world.

And yet, today, the legendary O5 Council found themselves in a rare moment of uncertainty. At the head of the U-shaped table, the projector lit up with an incoming call, casting a pale glow across the dimly lit room.

O5-1 leaned forward, her sharp features illuminated by the flickering light. She pressed a button on the console, and the call connected. The face of Franz, Leonard's trusted assistant, appeared on the screen.

O5-1 offered a small, composed smile, her voice warm but laced with authority. "TA-A, it's a pleasure to speak with you."

Franz inclined his head in acknowledgment, his expression measured yet grave. "The pleasure is mine. Though I wish we could discuss History today, the current circumstances demand otherwise."

O5-1's expression turned serious, the faint warmth in her demeanor replaced by steely resolve. "What is the status of the investigation into the Administrator's incident?"

Franz straightened in his chair, his tone crisp and professional. "Here's a concise summary. Less than 48 hours ago, the Administrator and his escort were aboard the civilian airliner N-9999A. At approximately 8:34 GMT+0, Site-Ayin, monitoring activity over Iceland, detected a sudden and significant spike in Hume levels within a area above the Atlantic Ocean. The anomaly was flagged and reported to the relevant sites.

"Triangulation confirmed that the anomaly originated from a Way opened through high-level thaumaturgical means. Site-01, tasked with overseeing the Administrator's journey, quickly identified that the anomaly lay directly in the flight path of TA's aircraft. Foundation combat aircraft were scrambled immediately to provide reinforcement.

"The vice-commander of Resh-1, who was accompanying the Administrator on the flight, reported that the aircraft came under attack by avian-type anomalies. Despite their defense efforts, the plane collided with the Way, triggering a teleportation event. Foundation aircraft successfully engaged and neutralized the hostile entities in the vicinity, but the Way closed immediately after the plane entered."

Franz's expression grew darker. "As of now, the Administrator's location, along with that of any survivors, remains unknown. Attempts to reopen the Way or track its destination have been unsuccessful thus far."

The two fell into a brief, heavy silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on the room. Finally, O5-7 broke the stillness, her voice calm yet resolute. "I have a proposal. It's audacious, but it might just work."

Franz, on the screen, leaned forward slightly. "I'm listening."

O5-7 continued, her tone measured but brimming with calculated confidence. "Since this Way was opened through thaumaturgy, we could try to reverse the process. By creating our own portal and inverting the thaumaturgic coordinates, we might be able to trace the spatial origin of the anomaly and locate where it led."

O5-3 immediately interjected, his voice sharp and analytical. "Yes, but you're forgetting the challenges. First, we'd need an enormous amount of EVE energy. Second, we'd require extensive knowledge of thaumaturgy to even attempt such a thing. And even if we managed that, the portal would be highly unstable. Anyone stepping through would risk ending up beneath the ocean, in another dimension, or even another universe. Worse still, they might simply die from a reality collapse."

O5-7 turned toward him, a sly smile forming on her lips. "As for the thaumaturgists, it so happens we have two individuals who could easily rank among the best in the world: Site Director Moose and O5-1 herself." She gestured toward O5-1, who raised a brow but said nothing. "And no one said they'd be the ones opening the portal. Sometimes, logic isn't the only thing that governs reality. Wouldn't you agree, TA-A?"

Franz frowned, deep in thought. For a moment, his face remained unreadable, but then his eyes lit up as understanding dawned on him. "You're suggesting we use the reality-warping ability of Resh-1's commander to stabilize the portal?!"

O5-7 smiled, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. "I expected nothing less from you to catch on so quickly. Yes, we need at least a Level-4 reality bender to make this work. I would've preferred to use SCP-249, but since it's still uncontained, we'll have to rely on the only viable solution we have."

O5-3 crossed his arms, his skeptical gaze fixed on O5-7. "Even if we have a Level-4 reality bender, stabilizing a thaumaturgic portal isn't a simple task. The commander of Resh-1 might have the power, but this isn't a controlled environment. What safeguards are you proposing? Or are we just throwing personnel into an unknown space and hoping for the best?"

O5-7's smile didn't waver. "It's not about hoping for the best. It's about calculated risk. With the guidance of Moose and O5-1, we can mitigate the most significant risks. And if we prepare properly, we can ensure that only expendable probes or drones are the first to traverse the portal."

O5-1, who had been silent up to this point, finally spoke. Her voice was calm but carried an edge of authority. "O5-7's proposal is sound in theory, but there's a critical variable we haven't addressed: the strain this process will put on him. Even a Level-4 has limits. Prolonged manipulation at this scale could lead to severe burnout, or worse."

Franz leaned closer to the camera, his tone carefully measured. "The commander of Resh-1 is loyal, but he's not a machine. If this process damages him severely, we're not only risking the mission but losing one of TA most valuable assets. Have you considered what kind of strain this will entail?"

O5-7's expression grew serious. "I'm aware of the risks, but we don't have the luxury of time. The Administrator's absence has already destabilized several high-level operations. Without him and the system, we cannot operate the Foundation correctly. If we lose him, the fallout will be far worse than losing one operative. "

O5-3 interjected again, his tone sharp. "That's a dangerous mindset, O5-7. Risking a key asset without a guaranteed outcome could leave us in an even worse position than we're in now."

Franz cleared his throat, drawing attention back to the screen. "Perhaps there's a compromise to be had. Before committing to a full-scale operation, we test the theory in a controlled environment. A smaller portal, calibrated to track residual Hume readings. That way, we can determine if this approach is viable without committing all our resources at once."

O5-7 considered this, tapping her fingers on the table. "It would delay the timeline, but it's a reasonable precaution. I'm willing to proceed with a trial phase if it satisfies everyone's concerns."

O5-1 nodded. "That's a more measured approach. We'll need Moose and the commander of Resh-1 to oversee the experiment. Prepare a report detailing the energy requirements, personnel allocation, and expected risks. The Council will review it before giving final approval."

Franz inclined his head in agreement. "I'll coordinate with Site-01 and Site-19 to prepare the necessary equipment. You'll have the preliminary results within 6 hours."

O5-3 sighed, but there was a hint of reluctant agreement in his tone. "It's better than rushing headlong into the unknown. Let's hope this works."

O5-7 leaned back in her chair, her confidence undimmed. "It will. We've faced worse odds before."

The call ended shortly after, the room once again falling into a tense silence as the Council contemplated the gamble they were about to take.

---

Over the past six hours, Franz had showcased the unparalleled logistical capabilities of the Foundation. Coordinating personnel and materials from Site-01 and Resh-1, he had flown to Site-19 aboard a heavily secured aircraft. As they began their descent, he gazed out the window at the tarmac below, which was teeming with activity. Personnel moved with precision, unloading cargo, securing the perimeter, and preparing for the critical operation ahead.

A soft cough drew his attention. One of the Resh-1 operatives, clad in tactical gear, stood at attention beside him. "Sir, the equipment is being unloaded, the security team is in position, and the Site Director is waiting for you outside."

Franz nodded, stretching briefly before replying, "Perfect." Reaching into his bag, he retrieved a mask, one strikingly similar to the one Leonard often wore. With a practiced motion, he secured it over his face and rose to exit the plane. The Resh-1 operatives fell in step behind him, a silent and formidable escort.

As Franz descended the aircraft's ramp, he was greeted by the sight of Site Director Moose standing at the edge of the tarmac. She was flanked by her assistant and several high-ranking personnel from Site-19, their badges and insignias marking them as some of the most senior members of the Foundation. Despite her composed posture, a faint tremor betrayed her nerves.

"Welcome to Site-19, sir," Moose began, her voice steady but tinged with unease. "Everything you requested has been prepared. We're ready to begin."

Franz stopped a few steps away from her, his masked face unreadable, though his tone carried a hint of warmth. "Director Moose, there's no need to be nervous. We're all on the same side."

Moose allowed a small, cautious smile to cross her face. "It's hard not to tremble when standing before the right hand of the Supreme Overseer of the Foundation."

Franz chuckled softly, his voice calm and reassuring. "Titles mean little on the field, Director. Let's focus on the task at hand. Show me what you've prepared."

Moose straightened, gesturing for her assistant to lead the way. "Of course, sir. If you'll follow me, I'll brief you on the setup."

They entered one of the hangars, the cavernous space bustling with activity. From there, they passed through a labyrinth of elevators, secret passageways, checkpoints, corridors, and offices. The journey through the layers of security and infrastructure was a grueling one, taking over 55 minutes of continuous walking. Finally, they arrived at their destination: a heavily guarded security post manned by more than 15 armed personnel.

The sergeant in charge of the post immediately recognized Director Moose and hastily stepped forward to open the reinforced doors. The group proceeded into a new section of the facility, and Moose gestured to the expansive halls beyond.

"Welcome to Sector-39," she announced, her voice echoing faintly. "This sector is dedicated to the study of other worlds. It spans 24 floors, each with specialized research and containment facilities."

They moved deeper into the heart of the sector, the fluorescent lighting casting a stark glow on the polished floors. Researchers, agents, and guards they passed immediately stepped aside, pressing themselves against the walls as the group advanced. None dared to meet the eyes of Resh-1's operatives, let alone glance at the masked man walking at their center.

The tension in the air was palpable, thick with the unspoken fear and respect that Resh-1 commanded. Every operative moved with an air of quiet menace, their presence a stark reminder of the Foundation's might.

Eventually, the group reached a corridor lined with several elevators. Without a word, the entourage split into two groups. Moose, Franz, and a handful of Resh-1 operatives entered the first elevator, while the remaining high-ranking personnel and the rest of Resh-1 filed into the second.

In the second elevator, the silence was oppressive. The high-ranking personnel barely dared to breathe, each movement calculated to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Resh-1's operatives stood motionless, their visors reflecting the harsh lights above, their imposing presence suffocating.

Inside the first elevator, Moose glanced at Franz, her unease still apparent despite her composed demeanor. "We're nearly there," she said quietly.

Franz didn't respond immediately. Instead, he adjusted his mask slightly, his voice calm and unreadable when he finally spoke. "Good. Let's not waste any time."

The elevators descended into the depths of Sector-39, the hum of machinery the only sound as the group prepared to face the monumental task ahead.

Finally, they arrived at the 19th floor. The elevator doors opened simultaneously, and the two groups stepped out together. Tilda Moose gestured to the expansive area ahead, her voice steady as she introduced the facility.

"This," she began, "is the Special Other Worlds Research Technology Labs. It's here that we conduct our primary research on alternate worlds within Site-19. This zone also serves as the headquarters for MTF Zeta-9, 'Mole Rats.' However, they haven't been currently unlocked, leaving the area temporarily unoccupied. We've relocated all the necessary equipment for the experiment here."

Franz nodded in approval, his tone curt and efficient. "Good. Let's proceed."

They walked through a set of reinforced doors into an elevated control room. The group approached a massive window that stretched across the room's length, giving them a clear, commanding view of the chamber below.

Tilda stepped forward, pointing toward the scene on the other side of the glass. "This is the heart of our research," she said. "The primary lab is equipped with state-of-the-art technology to study, interact with, and potentially open controlled access to other worlds. Every workstation you see is manned by specialized researchers and technicians, each contributing to different facets of our operation."

Through the window, Franz could see the bustling activity below. The massive chamber was alive with motion and purpose. Rows of desks and computer terminals lined the walls, each occupied by researchers monitoring streams of data. Teams of technicians worked in one corner, carefully calibrating treaded robots equipped with sensors and manipulator arms.

At the center of the room, all activity converged on a raised podium that held a large metal ring, its surface inscribed with complex patterns and runes that seemed to pulse faintly under the bright lights.

Tilda continued her explanation. "The podium is the focal point of our efforts. The metal ring you see is the Dimensional Convergence Gateway, or DCG. It's designed to harness EVE particles to stabilize and create controlled portals. All the equipment here is linked to the DCG, either for monitoring its output or assisting in its calibration. The ring itself is composed of high-resistance alloys interwoven with thaumaturgic runes for dimensional anchoring."

She gestured toward the teams below. "Every person in this room has a role to play. The researchers are monitoring dimensional stability parameters, the technicians are ensuring the portal remains structurally sound, and the robotics team is preparing the exploratory drones we'll deploy during the experiment. In short, this is where the impossible becomes reality."

Franz observed silently, his masked face giving no indication of his thoughts. After a moment, he turned toward Moose. "Impressive setup," he remarked, his tone neutral. "Let's make sure it's worth the effort."

Tilda gave a small nod. "It will be, sir. We're ready to begin on your command."

Franz turned his gaze back to the bustling lab below, his voice calm but firm. "Then let's not waste time anymore."

Franz turned to Graves, who stood among the Resh-1 operatives, his posture rigid and composed. With a subtle nod from Franz, Graves acknowledged the signal before shifting his focus to Tilda Moose. His voice was calm but carried the weight of authority.

"Let's begin," he said.

Tilda gave a curt nod and tapped a button on her tablet, activating the lab's intercom system. Her voice echoed through the chamber below. "All teams, this is Director Moose. Phase One of the test is commencing. Assume your positions and prepare for activation."

The activity in the lab intensified. Researchers double-checked data streams, technicians secured connections to the DCG, and the robotics team moved the treaded drones to the edge of the podium, ready for deployment. A low hum began to resonate through the facility as the equipment powered up.

"Power levels stabilizing," called out a technician from one of the stations. "EVE reservoirs are charging at 75% capacity and climbing."

Graves moved closer to the observation window, his sharp eyes scanning the room below. He turned back to Tilda. "How long until full charge?"

"Two minutes," she replied, her focus on the readings displayed on her tablet. "The DCG is responding well to the initial power-up sequence. No anomalies detected so far."

Franz stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back. "And the dimensional stability metrics?"

A nearby researcher answered, his voice steady but tinged with concentration. "Holding within acceptable parameters, sir. Current readings suggest a stable threshold for portal formation."

Graves nodded, his expression unreadable. "Good. Maintain communication with all teams. I want updates every thirty seconds."

As the countdown continued, the room seemed to hold its collective breath. The hum of the DCG grew louder, and faint patterns of light began to dance across the metal ring's surface.

"Reservoirs at 95%," another voice announced. "We're approaching the threshold for activation."

Tilda glanced at Franz, her voice low but firm. "Final checks are clear. We're ready to proceed with Phase One."

Franz tilted his head slightly, his masked face unreadable. "Proceed."

Tilda nodded once more and spoke into the intercom. "All teams, prepare for portal initialization. Begin Phase One activation in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1."

The DCG pulsed with energy, its runes glowing brighter as the metal ring began to rotate slowly. A low vibration shook the room as a shimmering field of light emerged within the ring's center. At first, it was faint, almost imperceptible, but it grew in intensity, taking on the appearance of a swirling vortex of iridescent colors.

"Portal formation at 50%," a researcher called out. "Stability readings are solid. No signs of deviation."

Graves turned his head slightly toward Franz. "This is it. Let's see if the first step holds."

Franz's voice was calm and measured. "It will hold. Continue."

The portal continued to solidify, the swirling light intensifying as the energy within the DCG reached its peak. All eyes were on the metal ring, waiting to see if the experiment would succeed, or fail catastrophically.

Graves stepped forward, positioning himself in front of the observation window, his stance firm and deliberate. The operators of Resh-1 moved instinctively to give him space, their focus shifting between him and the activity below.

Tilda Moose joined him, her tablet clutched tightly in her hands. Her eyes gleamed with an unnatural light, a sure sign that she was tapping into her own thaumaturgical abilities to read the intricate parameters of the dimensional gate.

"Current portal stability at 73%," she began, her voice precise and steady. "Hume levels are holding, but we're approaching the threshold for instability. You'll need to counteract fluctuations with a controlled reality shift to maintain coherence."

Graves closed his eyes briefly, his breathing slowing as he began to focus. His reality-bending abilities weren't something to be used lightly, and even within Resh-1, few could handle such tasks with his precision.

"Stabilization vectors align with coordinates Theta-4 and Psi-9," Tilda continued, her tone sharpening. "You'll need to anchor the field by suppressing dimensional drift along both axes."

Graves opened his eyes, a faint glow now emanating from them. He raised one hand, fingers splayed, as the air around him seemed to ripple. The room grew eerily quiet, save for the hum of the portal and the occasional beep from monitoring stations.

"Adjusting vectors," he murmured, his voice low but carrying a resonance that seemed to vibrate through the air itself.

The swirling vortex within the metal ring below began to steady, its chaotic patterns smoothing out into a more consistent flow.

"That's it," Tilda said, her voice rising slightly with urgency. "Hold the suppression field at 15%. Too much, and you'll collapse the portal."

Graves narrowed his glowing eyes, his hand shifting slightly as if molding invisible clay. The portal responded, its edges solidifying further, becoming less like a storm and more like a translucent window into the unknown.

"Parameters approaching target levels," a researcher called out from below. "EVE output stabilizing."

"Dimensional drift reduced to 3%," Tilda confirmed, her eyes flicking rapidly as she processed the updated readings. "You're almost there. Anchor the temporal variance next."

Graves exhaled slowly, extending his other hand. The ripples in the air around him intensified, and the faint glow of his eyes became more pronounced. "Anchoring… now."

The portal reacted immediately. A sharp, resonant tone filled the room as the swirling energy snapped into a perfect circular shape. The vortex's chaotic colors settled into a steady, shimmering glow, and the room's vibrations began to subside.

"Portal stability at 98%," Tilda announced, her voice tinged with relief. "Dimensional alignment achieved. Temporal variance neutralized. We're ready for Phase Two initiation."

Graves lowered his hands slowly, the glow fading from his eyes. He took a moment to steady himself, his breathing heavy but controlled.

Franz's voice broke the silence. "Excellent work, you two. Now let's see what's on the other side."

Graves nodded but said nothing, stepping back to let the others take the lead as they prepared for the next stage of the experiment. The room, though calmer, still buzzed with an undercurrent of anticipation. Phase Two was about to begin.

The exploration robot, Delta-12, began transmitting a stable video feed as it moved through the portal. In the vast portal chamber, technicians worked at their stations, their eyes fixed on the streams of data flowing across multiple monitors.

"Delta-12 has entered the other side," reported Technician Fáng, his voice steady. "Establishing telemetry and initializing environmental scans."

Behind him stood Dr. Vargas, clipboard in hand, overseeing the operation. "Keep me updated on all readings," she instructed, her tone calm yet precise.

Fáng nodded, fingers moving deftly over his keyboard. "Atmospheric analysis is coming in now… Oxygen levels at 21.3%, nitrogen at 78.1%, with trace gases well within tolerable limits for human respiration. No immediate presence of toxic elements detected."

"Good," Dr. Vargas said, making notes. "What about atmospheric pressure and temperature?"

"Pressure is consistent with Earth standard at 101.3 kPa. Temperature is 15.6 degrees Celsius. No significant anomalies."

Dr. Vargas nodded. "Proceed to Kant Counter"

Fáng adjusted the robot's sensors, focusing on the measurement of localized reality stability. A graph appeared on one of the screens, fluctuating slightly before stabilizing at a numeric value.

"Hume levels detected at 115," he announced. "Slightly above baseline but within acceptable parameters. No signs of immediate instability."

Dr. Vargas furrowed her brow. "Slight elevation. Could indicate residual thaumaturgical activity in the area. Any fluctuations?"

"Negative," Fáng replied. "The readings have remained consistent since entry."

"Noted. Continue with the EVE scan."

The robot's equipment shifted to detect exotic particles in the atmosphere. The readings came in quickly, causing murmurs among the technicians.

"EVE density is substantial," Fáng said. "Current levels are at 550 units per cubic meter, dramatically higher than Earth's average background levels."

Dr. Vargas looked up sharply. "550? That's an unusually high concentration. Log that immediately."

Fáng complied, entering the data into the system. "Portal remains stable. Delta-12 is operating normally."

Dr. Vargas turned toward Tilda Moose, who stood with Franz on the observation deck above. "Director Moose, the environment is favorable for human entry. Hume levels are manageable, and the EVE concentration, while elevated, does not pose immediate risks to stability. What are your orders for the next stage of the operation?"

Tilda exhaled slowly, her gaze fixed on the large display showing the robot's camera feed of the alien plain. She seemed deep in thought before turning to Franz, who stood silently beside her, his expression unreadable behind the mask.

"Sir," she said, her voice steady, "the next step is yours I believe."

Franz pulled out his phone, dialing a number with practiced ease. After a single beep, the line connected, and he asked in a measured tone, "Well?"

O5-1's voice came through the speaker, calm yet authoritative. "The Council has monitored the entire process and voted unanimously in favor of this plan. I'll be arriving on-site with several other O5s within seven hours. We'll be accompanied by a significant contingent of Alpha-1 operatives. The Ethics Committee is also sending support, including Omega-1 and several senior members. Additionally, two German MTFs specialized in these operations have been deployed. The English MTFs remain under your control for now; we can't reassign them without TA upgrading our permissions."

A faint smile spread across Franz's face beneath his mask. "Understood," he replied before ending the call.

He turned back to the gathered personnel in the observation area, his voice projecting over the hum of the equipment and chatter of the researchers. "Operation Lost Crown begins in twelve hours. Priority Alpha."

Franz's gaze shifted to Tilda Moose, who straightened under the weight of his directive. "Director Moose," he continued, "assemble all MTFs for a full briefing in eleven hours."

Turning his attention to the broader group, he addressed them with a tone that was both commanding and encouraging. "Ladies and gentlemen, I don't need to remind you of the significance of this operation. Every step matters, every second counts. Let's ensure we're ready."

——-

All these scientific terms made my brain burnt 😭. I wanted to use scientific words for the realism of this chapter so I took a little more time to do research on the internet