Chapter 66: You Will Become... (BONUS)

"…Wait, are you Dr. Bright? One of the Four Horsemen of the Foundation Apocalypse?"

Dante felt a mouthful of metaphorical old blood rise to his throat.

Goddammit, why does this universe also have these chaos goblins?

"Oh! You actually know the Foundation? Looks like you're a fellow traveler—from another universe, right?"

"Another universe? Also? So this world doesn't have the Foundation?"

"That depends on what point in time you're using."

Jack Bright stood with his hands behind his back, posture deep with mysterious gravitas. "In the past, there was no Foundation. Naturally, there isn't one now either. But in the future… there absolutely will be."

Dante didn't hesitate. He slapped Jack Bright right on the forehead.

"Speak like a normal person! Don't give me this cryptic oracle crap!"

The slap sent Jack's head slamming straight into the table, and blood immediately started leaking out.

Cough, cough, cough! "Man, you're violent."

But Jack seemed used to this kind of abuse. Didn't even flinch at the thought of the body getting wrecked.

Right—because at this point, he was basically a Lich.

As long as SCP-963—his personal phylactery—remained intact, Jack Bright was functionally immortal.

But…

Could that really still be called "living"?

Dante didn't want to imagine what that felt like. Wouldn't dare. Because when it came to anything related to the Foundation… the bigger the reward, the steeper the price.

A guy hopping dimensions illegally really didn't have any ground to complain about being roughed up. Who knows? Maybe the universe he came from is still trying to trace him—and if that trail leads here, they might bring along a few of those delightful little anomalies.

Dante gave Jack Bright a long look.

Most of the SCP Foundation's creatures weren't all that strong by this world's standards—but those High Divinity entities? They had some real tricks up their sleeve.

Granted, the embarrassments among the High Divinity were just okay. Respectable, but essentially All Father-tier in name only.

Still, the ones that performed well… those were real monsters.

Given the current development stage of this universe, if a High Divinity-level anomaly actually showed up, this world might not be able to stop it.

Unless Superman suddenly reached enlightenment and broke through to near-conceptual Silver Age Superman levels, they were screwed.

Those High Divinities liked to roll with stuff like "timeline detachment" and "universal overwrite" as standard features.

"Anomalies? Nah," Jack Bright spread his hands, clearly aware of what Dante was worried about. "I've studied this universe. No such thing as 'anomalies' here—or rather, you're the anomalies."

"You see," Jack said, "your so-called dimensional lords, planar demon gods… aren't they just rebranded High Divinities from the Foundation's records? And what's the real difference between you superhumans and anomalies? It's just that most of you haven't lost touch with universal values. That's why I said a Foundation-style organization will definitely emerge in the future. Because as human society evolves, there's no guarantee every superhuman will hold onto morality."

Dante didn't reply.

Because in a sense… Jack Bright's read on this universe was spot-on.

The power levels of frontline heroes and villains here were miles beyond most Foundation anomalies.

Only the heavy-hitters—the really infamous SCPs—could even compete.

But compete was the keyword. You really think Shy Guy or the Immortal Lizard could take down Clark Kent on a bad day?

"…Then what are you planning to do?"

"I'm very interested in this universe," Jack said with a smile. "It's fascinating. Way more entertaining than dealing with random anomalies back home…"

"...Should we thank you or something?"

"Well, if you insist on thanking me— Actually, never mind. You're the type who thanks people by slapping their forehead."

Dante rolled his eyes. He was already losing interest in this mentally questionable mad scientist.

"Alright, I'm done talking. If you don't want to spend the rest of your immortal life as a keychain locked in a titanium safe at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, you'd better cooperate."

"…You're joking, right?"

For the first time, Jack's expression faltered.

He didn't fear death. But the idea of eternal imprisonment? In unending, suffocating darkness?

That scared the hell out of him.

Jack began frantically scratching his head, turning his well-groomed hair into a bird's nest.

"Fine! You win! You damn dark-hearted FBI bastards!"

"Dark-hearted? You have the nerve to call someone else dark-hearted? You work for the Foundation!"

After roasting Jack, Dante pointed at the four crimson gems on the table—and the Butcher, snoozing peacefully on top of them.

"If I'm not wrong, you were planning to use these four crimson gems as the core to create a device that manipulates the Red Rage Light, right?"

"'Rage… Red Light'? That's what you call this red energy?"

"Not exactly. That's just part of it. The rest comes from the planar demon gods of the Crimson Cosmos."

"…Ah, I see." Jack nodded. "If my research is correct, the two energy types are extremely similar—possibly interchangeable. But…"

"But what?"

"But I haven't figured out a way to alter the shape of these gems. They're literally divine-grade artifacts. Way too sturdy."

Clearly, Jack Bright—the legendary mad scientist—had thought about forging a new artifact to contain and manipulate both energy sources. He just didn't have the tools or materials to make it happen.

Dante looked at the crimson gems on the table for a moment. Then he reached out and picked one up.

Jack tried to stop him—but Dante's hand was way too fast.

So fast that even the Butcher didn't react. Still curled up like a big red bull plushie on the other three gems, snoring away. The one ox hoof dangling off the edge was almost comical.

"Hey! What the hell are you trying to do?! You can't swap bodies with an artifact like I can!"

"You don't have to worry about that. You should focus more on how you're going to be useful once we're back at HQ."

"Useful? Who said I'm going back to the FBI with you?"

"The FBI… or a nice cozy little black box at the bottom of the ocean trench. Pick one."

"Motherf— Do I look like I need to think about it?"

Jack raised his hand in defeat. "Of course I choose the great Federal Bureau of Investigation."

Dante snorted. He looked at the gem in his hand—the red light was growing brighter by the second. He didn't push Jack any further and instead focused on asserting his Will.

If Cyttorak's power in the Crimson Cosmos shared the same roots as the Red Rage Light, then the Will Green Light had to be its natural counter.

[Excellent, mortal. I am Cyttorak.]

[You shall become my chosen one—my herald on Earth…]

(To be continued.)

Keep the PS coming guys xD

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