When the audience of the Marvel world saw this scene, almost everyone was stunned.
Immediately, a sea of black question marks flooded the screen.
"What? What kind of divine plot twist is this?"
"Is this guy James crazy? I thought he pulled out a gun to shoot SCP-105, but it turns out he was going to commit suicide?!"
"My brain short-circuited for a second."
"I'm dumbfounded."
"..."
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters
"Damn it, how is this guy a researcher and still pulls out a gun without knowing anything?" Natasha Romanoff grumbled, visibly shaken by James's actions.
"Damn lunatic," Nick Fury cursed under his breath. He never expected James to exploit the young girl's kindness like that.
"James, stop. This isn't funny," Iris said with a nervous laugh, trying to defuse the situation.
"I'm not joking, Iris. If you don't come back with us, we all die. Maybe it's better to start over..."
James pressed the gun to his temple and began to count.
"James, please!" Iris begged. She crouched down, her hands trembling. "Don't make me do this..."
"You don't want to return? Fine. But if you truly do, then go back with my blood on your conscience. Two."
The atmosphere became suffocatingly tense.
The two agents flanking James were drenched in cold sweat.
Drip...
A bead of sweat slid down Iris's cheek as she looked at James with pained eyes.
"James!" she screamed.
"Stop!"
As James called out the next number, time seemed to freeze.
Everyone in the livestream held their breath. Some timid viewers even shut their eyes involuntarily.
Click!
James pulled the trigger.
But instead of a bang, there was a hollow click.
Time resumed. Sounds filled the silence once more.
Iris collapsed to her knees, holding a photograph tightly in one hand. The firing pin of the pistol clattered to the ground like shattered glass.
The chat in the livestream exploded.
No one had expected James to actually pull the trigger. If SCP-105 hadn't intervened at the last second, he would have died on the spot.
Everyone stared at James like he was a complete alien.
He dared.
But remembering James's decisiveness during past missions, they understood.
Yes. He dared.
Beatrice rushed over. She held Iris tightly, tears welling in her eyes.
Adrian looked at James, his shirt soaked with sweat.
Originally, Adrian had dismissed the young researcher. In terms of hierarchy, Mobile Task Force members weren't subordinate to junior researchers.
But now? Now, he felt shaken.
James calmly slid the plastic pistol into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone.
"This is Kondraki," came the familiar, deep voice. "Report."
"James, junior researcher, Site-17."
He spoke evenly. "Agents Adrian, Beatrice, and I have just captured a confirmed humanoid anomaly. Reopening file SCP-105, previous data regarding loss of anomalous ability is now considered invalid."
"Understood, researcher. We'll prepare a containment chamber. Anything else?"
James paused, voice tinged with emotion. "Dr. Kondraki, this mission was hell."
"Sorry, James. You know I tried. I've had little success lately..."
Before Kondraki could finish, Beatrice jumped in, cursing furiously.
"Neil, Dantensen did this because he refused to treat a teenager like a zoo animal! You're ripping people from their families and locking them in cages like..."
"Listen, I understand. I really do," Kondraki replied. "But we can't talk over an unsecured line. Get back to Site-17 ASAP. We'll handle it there."
He paused again.
"I'll try to deal with the O5 Council, but if Iris doesn't return, I lose all leverage. Do you have a route back?"
"Old Fitz has a helicopter ready on the helipad. We'll fly to the nearest station for further orders."
"Good. Go."
A silence lingered before Kondraki spoke once more.
"Look, it matters, James. This mission might help change how we treat low-threat humanoids. Maybe we can give them a better environment, allow them some companionship..."
James hung up.
The livestream viewers were stunned. This was the first time they'd seen James act out of emotional guilt.
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters
Watching James and the others escort Iris to the helicopter, Natasha frowned.
"Is this really the end?"
"What else did you expect?" Maria asked. "Do you think every Foundation mission ends with an explosion and a twist?"
Natasha shrugged. "I guess I'm just not used to it."
"Don't forget," she continued, "James is a researcher."
"No," Fury said, his voice heavy. "Didn't you notice? The memories being shown aren't in full chronological order. They're selectively revealed."
Everyone paused. He was right.
"The scenes shown so far are the ones that left a lasting impact on James. This mission... isn't over."
Fury narrowed his eye. "Something bigger is coming."
"Where to?" the pilot asked.
Before James could answer, Beatrice snapped, "Just get us to the nearest Foundation site. Fast."
The pilot glanced at James, who nodded in silence.
"Yellowstone it is," the pilot said. "ETA: A few hours."
"Alright. We'll be in the back. Let us know if anything comes up."
Iris sat, curled up in her seat.
James quietly took a seat in the cargo section.
Iris threw a glare sharp enough to slice steel.
"You know she hates your guts," Adrian said, half-joking.
"She can hate me from head to toe. As long as she's alive," James replied calmly.
"You're not going to talk to her?"
James shook his head. "It won't help. You talk to her."
He directed this to Beatrice.
"Why should I be the one to comfort a rebellious teen? You researchers are supposed to be the trained psychologists."
Adrian chuckled. "You're a woman. Aren't you naturally good at this kind of thing?"
Beatrice flipped him off, then reluctantly walked over to Iris.
The two soon began to chat. Occasionally, both shot glares at James.
He closed his eyes, letting the sound of the engine lull him.
"Dr. James! Dr. James!"
James jolted awake, wincing from the sharp pain in his neck.
"Dr. James!"
"Speak," he said groggily into the comms.
"You asked to be alerted 10 minutes before reaching Yellowstone. We're 10 minutes out."
"Understood. I'll be in the cockpit."
Unbuckling, he made his way to the front.
"Do you have an external headset?"
"Here," the pilot pointed.
James thanked him, slipped on the helmet, and said, "Connect me to the site."
"Which station?" the pilot asked.
James paused.
Then frowned deeply.
"I... can't remember. Where are we heading, pilot?"
A cold chill ran down his spine.
The pilot looked confused. "I'm not sure, sir. I could swear—"
James turned toward the windshield.
His eyes widened in horror.
"Pull up!"
He screamed.
Ahead of them, a snowy mountain flickered like an old VHS tape.
And then...
It exploded.
BOOM!
Across the Marvel world, viewers froze.
The mountain—once majestic and immense—was obliterated as if smitten by a divine wrath.
Blue Star viewers especially felt their minds unraveling.
What the hell happened?!
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters
Everyone stared, mouths agape.
Fury's expression was stormy.
A mountain range, vanished in an instant.
Was it anomalous?
A terrorist attack?
More importantly—what happened to James?
Luckily, the video feed resumed.
"James! James!"
His eyes shot open.
Beatrice and Adrian were leaning over him, worried.
His vision blurred, his mouth filled with the taste of blood and rust.
He sat up slowly, head spinning.
The rotors hummed. Pain throbbed in his skull.
"What happened?"
Everyone watching had the same question.
"Turbulence," Beatrice said. "You hit your head. You're lucky to be okay. Try to rest."
"No, what happened?" James asked again, his voice eerily calm despite the storm behind his eyes.
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