The supervisor stared silently at Jas.
In one hand, he held a mission list. With the other, he absentmindedly tapped the side of his holstered pistol, lost in thought.
Minutes passed. Finally, he pushed both the pistol and the file back across the table.
"I'm not doing this," he said plainly.
The supervisor's refusal caught everyone off guard—including the audience watching the livestream and Jas himself.
Jas remained calm. He glanced at the supervisor, whose expression had turned tense.
"You already have skilled executioners," Jas said quietly. "What you lack… is soone to walk the path."
The supervisor's frown deepened.
"The Alabaster Project is expensive, yes—but it's manageable," Jas continued. "So why not let try it?"
"You?" the supervisor repeated, eyes narrowing. A sudden realization struck him, and his face changed.
Jas didn't flinch. "Inject with SCP-3396," he said.
Silence fell like a stone.
"No!" the supervisor stamred. "It's too dangerous… it violates everything we stand for—"
Even he sounded frightened by his own words.
The livestream exploded with chaos.
> "Did I just hear that right?"
"Holy crap, he actually wants to get infected?"
"Finally! Soone in the Foundation wants to fight fire with fire!"
"What ability will Jas get from this?! I'm freaking out here!"
"The Foundation's gonna reject it. They always do. Contain, not create!"
—
At S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters, every agent was frozen in disbelief.
Jas had not only rejected a command—he had proposed sothing unimaginable.
Natasha Romanoff stared at the screen, her expression shifting from shock to intrigue.
"Maybe this could work," she said, voice rising. "SCP-3396 doesn't destroy the mind—it enhances it. If Jas can control that power…"
Even she felt excitent rising at the possibility.
Director Nick Fury watched with a tightened jaw. He, too, was surprised by Jas' bold request.
The idea wasn't completely absurd. S.H.I.E.L.D. had, after all, greenlit the super-soldier program in the past. It gave birth to Steve Rogers. Using power to defeat power… it wasn't new.
But the Foundation was different.
They were strict. Cold. Controlled.
Would they approve of this madness?
Fury leaned forward, eyes glued to the monitor.
—
Back on-screen, the supervisor regained composure.
"You've forgotten the Foundation's purpose," she said slowly.
"Control," Jas replied, rising from his seat.
"Contain."
Jas stepped closer.
"Protect."
Now, he stood just inches away. The tension was suffocating.
The supervisor could even sll the warmth of his breath.
Staring into his unreadable eyes, she muttered, "We don't create anomalies. We reject everything that distorts human nature."
Jas held her gaze.
"But you've already created several anomalies," he replied.
"That was… an experint!"
Jas said nothing. His calm was pressure enough.
"It was… an accident," the supervisor whispered, her voice fading.
After a long pause, she finally said, "Actually… proposals like yours have been made before."
That made Jas pause.
Even the livestream audience was shocked again.
> "Wait, what? Soone else had this idea before Jas?"
"Who was it?"
"Dr. Gears," she said at last.
The na echoed through the room like a bell.
Dr. Gears—the cold, emotionless genius of the Foundation.
—
"Dr. Gears?" Natasha repeated, confused. "I thought the Mobile Task Force would be first in line for this kind of thing—especially soone like the Red Right Hand."
Nick Fury gave her a sideways look.
"Think about it," he said. "Gears and Jas—they're alike."
Natasha blinked. "Because they both never smile?"
"…Because they're both purely rational," Fury sighed.
She fell silent.
Looking back at Jas' past decisions, she realized she couldn't deny it.
Jas was calm, controlled, logical. Unshakable in will and terrifyingly brave.
He was, perhaps, the perfect candidate for the infection.
—
The screen returned to the supervisor's pained expression.
"He refused," she said bitterly. "He clung to the rules, just like the others."
Her eyes fell back on Jas.
"Are you sure about this?"
Jas nodded without hesitation.
"Maybe the power I gain won't be enough to stop what's coming," he said. "But it's still better than being captured."
"Or contained," she warned. "Or even terminated. The Foundation might turn against you."
Jas smirked. "Then I hope the one who executes … is Dr. Clef."
The supervisor's eyes widened. Then she muttered: "You're insane."
But sowhere in her tone… there was admiration.
—
The livestream crowd went wild.
> "Jas is BACK!!!"
"He faced 096. He dealt with 1730. Now he's going godmode?! Let's goooo!"
—
At Stark Tower, Tony Stark folded his arms.
"So," he muttered. "He's really doing it."
For once, he didn't joke about science vs. mutation. He just… respected Jas' resolve.
From D-class nobody to field agent.
From agent to researcher.
Now… a doctor.
A legend.
"Maybe," Colonel Rhodes joked, "every great Foundation doctor is a little bit… unhinged?"
Stark chuckled, reluctantly agreeing.
Dr. Kondraki was wild. Dr. Bright couldn't die and liked it that way. Dr. Gears was a machine in human skin. And Clef?
Clef was a reality-bending maniac who sohow passed for human.
Compared to them, Jas was the sane one.
—
In Kamar-Taj, young sorcerers chattered in excitent.
"Jas is so brave!"
"I want to be just like him!"
"I'll be stronger than him one day!"
The Ancient One smiled faintly, listening from afar.
She had once thought herself powerful. But after learning about the Foundation, she knew better.
She turned toward the screen, eyes narrowing.
What kind of power would Jas gain?
—
Just when everyone expected to see Jas' transformation—
The screen shifted suddenly.
A new scene erged: a snowy mountain range. Smoke rose from a burning building. Sirens echoed through the icy wind.
And standing calmly on a ridge…
Was a young woman, a grenade launcher slung over her shoulder.
She looked down at the destroyed building marked "SCP."
The chat went into chaos.
> "What the hell?! Was the site attacked?"
"Is that a D-class?"
"SHE'S WEARING AN ORANGE JUMPSUIT!"
At S.H.I.E.L.D, Natasha's jaw dropped.
"Wait… could that be her?"
"The one infected by SCP-3396 and escaped," Fury confird, nodding. "D-77777."
He read the number stitched on her uniform and sighed deeply.
No one hated the Foundation more than D-class personnel.
They were experints. Test subjects. Disposable.
And now… one had gained power.
Terrifying power.
—
D-77777 stood at the peak, looking down at what used to be her prison.
She could destroy what was left. Wipe out the entire site.
Her weapon could flatten the valley.
But she didn't.
Too many bodies already littered her mory. Too many faces.
She lowered the launcher.
And walked away.
She didn't want revenge. She just wanted freedom.
The screen faded to black. But a voice spoke up:
> "One hour ago, they called her D-77777."
"Now, she's Monica."
Once a nobody. Now, unforgettable.
Not smart enough to quit, but smart enough to hate being used.
A girl from nowhere. With too many scars.
Not every D-class deserved to die.
So were just born in the wrong place.
—
The livestream chat fell silent.
Everyone stared at the screen, stunned.
Because in that mont, they understood:
This story wasn't just about monsters. Or power.
It was about the people the world forgot.
And those who refused to be forgotten.
_________________________________
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