Scott Lang, currently the size of an ant, clung desperately to the back of a flying insect as it darted through the city.
For a first-ti rider, the experience was far from pleasant.
The turbulence created by passing traffic tossed him around relentlessly. Every gust of wind felt like a hurricane, every sharp turn like a roller coaster designed by a madman.
WHOOOSH!
After circling several buildings and nearly making Scott lose his lunch half a dozen tis, the insect finally descended toward a private estate.
Monts later, it flew through an opening and landed neatly on the floor of a spacious living room inside Hank Pym's mansion.
The insect folded its wings and vibrated them impatiently, as if urging its passenger to get off.
"I... can't..."
Scott crawled weakly from its back.
"I'm gonna..."
"Ugh..."
He fought desperately against the nausea churning in his stomach.
"Scott."
Hank Pym's voice ca through the helt speakers.
"That's my suit."
"You are not allowed to throw up inside it."
Whether it was a warning or a command, Scott couldn't tell.
Nor did he care.
The mont he slipped from the insect's back and hit the floor, he collapsed face-first onto the carpet and began dry-heaving.
Then the suit activated.
BZZZZT!
In an instant, Scott returned to normal size.
The helt automatically disengaged.
The second it ca off...
"BLEAAARGH!"
He vomited.
A lot.
For nearly two solid minutes.
When it was finally over, he rolled onto his back and lay motionless on the floor, pale as a ghost.
That ten-minute flight had been more intense than any roller coaster he'd ever experienced.
More extre than any stunt plane.
Scott considered himself reasonably fit.
That hadn't helped.
Not even a little.
Click. Click. Click.
The sound of high heels echoed across the floor.
Soone was approaching.
Still sprawled on the ground, Scott forced his eyes open and turned his head toward the noise.
The first thing he saw was a pair of long, elegant legs.
For a mont, he stared.
Then his gaze slowly began moving upward.
WHACK!
A dark blur struck him directly in the face.
"Oww!"
Scott yelped, clutching his eye.
"Serves you right."
A cold female voice followed.
Hope.
Naturally.
She already had a poor opinion of him.
Watching him stare at her legs during their first eting certainly hadn't helped.
Groaning, Scott slowly pushed himself upright.
Being attacked for looking wasn't exactly fair in his opinion.
Then again, he probably wasn't in a position to complain.
"Hope, that's enough."
Hank Pym stepped into view behind her.
"He didn't do it intentionally."
Hope snorted and turned her head away.
Scott finally got a proper look at the two people standing before him.
The woman was beautiful.
And clearly irritated by his existence.
The older man beside her appeared calm, intelligent, and surprisingly approachable.
More importantly, he was almost certainly the voice that had been speaking to him through the suit.
"Scott Lang."
The older man smiled and extended a hand.
"It's good to finally et you."
"My na is Hank Pym."
Scott's attention imdiately shifted away from Hope.
Then his brain caught up with the na.
He froze.
"...Hank Pym?"
His eyes widened.
"Hank Pym?"
"The founder of Pym Technologies?!"
The reaction seed to amuse the older scientist.
"Nice to know soone in this city still rembers ."
Scott was stunned.
He'd expected so secret organization.
A shadowy governnt agency.
Maybe a criminal syndicate.
Instead, he'd been recruited by one of the most famous scientists in the world.
Hank gestured toward Hope.
"This is my daughter, Hope."
He paused.
"And I'd like to apologize for her behavior earlier."
"You're not hurt, are you?"
Hope visibly disliked the apology but remained silent.
Scott, anwhile, looked completely overwheld.
A billionaire scientist was apologizing to him.
To him.
The forr convict.
The man who'd broken into his house and stolen his property.
"N-No!"
Scott waved both hands frantically.
"It's fine!"
"Really!"
"I'm okay!"
That wasn't entirely true.
The area around his eye was already turning purple.
But he certainly wasn't going to complain.
"Good."
Hank smiled.
"Now that you're here, we can finally talk properly."
He gestured toward a smaller dining room connected to the living area.
"Co sit down."
"Have sothing to drink."
Hope shot Scott one last dismissive glance before following her father.
Scott stood there for several seconds.
His thoughts were a complete ss.
Then he picked up the Ant-Man helt from the floor and followed them.
A few minutes later, all three were seated around a table.
"Take a seat."
Hank stirred his coffee casually.
"That ride couldn't have been very pleasant."
Scott lowered himself into a chair.
"You could say that."
He rubbed his face.
"My first experience using insect-based transportation."
He looked embarrassed.
"And, uh..."
"Sorry about your living room."
Hank didn't even look up.
"Perfectly understandable."
He took another sip of coffee.
"You can clean it before you leave."
"Of course..."
Scott nodded automatically.
Then paused.
"...Wait."
Hank's expression remained perfectly serious.
Scott wisely decided not to argue.
After all, he had been the one who vomited all over the man's floor.
Eventually, Hank set down his spoon.
"Coffee?"
"Would you like sugar?"
Scott nodded.
"One cube."
Then he noticed movent on the table.
Two ants were carrying a sugar cube toward him.
Scott froze.
The ants marched across the tabletop with military precision.
Each carried one side of the cube as though it were the most normal thing in the world.
After everything he'd experienced today, the sight still managed to unsettle him.
"You know what?"
He leaned back.
"No sugar."
The ants imdiately turned around.
Without hesitation, they carried the sugar cube back to the container.
Scott watched them go.
His curiosity grew stronger with every passing second.
The flying insects.
The shrinking technology.
The obedient ants.
The impossible suit.
For the first ti since arriving, he began to realize just how deep this rabbit hole might go.
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