Chapter Text
We secure. We contain. We protect.
— The Administrator
It's cold.
I don't know if it's the weather up here or just the general atmosphere of the whole place. To say I’m nervous is an understatement.
The helicopter ride has been quiet minus the constant whirring of the rotor. Around me is a whole squad of soldiers, armed to the teeth, and here I am carrying my luggage which they luckily allowed me to bring. Thankfully, not everyone here is hiding behind some sort of mask as in front of me is an agent who I know all too well. Agent Ayman , also known as the guy who dragged me to the whole thing in the first place. Ever since he put those papers down and on my desk and proposed to me an opportunity, I knew that I won't just be a detective anymore.
The Rockies is definitely the last place I expected to be going, its snowy peaks and vast ranges are all that I can see from here. I was honestly expecting something more along the lines of a miles-deep underground facility or like, an Area-51 type building… is Area-51 under the Foundation? I never really gave that a thought. That place has been a hotspot for conspiracy theories and aliens, I'd be surprised if they aren't.
Peering over the windows again, I see something man-made up ahead, deep in the mountain range. A gray structure protruding from the mountainside, blending in with the help of snow buildup on the top.
“So, Ms Watson, how’s the trip so far?” The agent looked at me with his shades. The tone of hollow enthusiasm in his voice never fails to unnerve me.
“It's been fine, I'm still soaking it all in.” I answered him, “It's quite a promotion.”
“From Field Agent to Head Researcher , quite a promotion indeed.” Ayman replied, “I trust that you will do well.”
I can only let out a sigh, “It's a big responsibility and not gonna lie, I'm kinda not sure about the whole thing.” The agent in front nods, whether that was a sign of empathy or not is another thing entirely, “I wasn't trained, no orientation given, and zero experience with how things work inside. I just… I don't know.”
Sure, some can brush off a few failures if this were normal work but it isn't, this is the Foundation I'm talking about and going by my many experiences with them, they're not exactly the type to be forgiving when it comes to mismanagement. I'm not working on papers nor am I calculating numbers; I'm gonna be handling things that can't even be explained by science.
“Well, I'm sure you're quite suited for the job, detective.” Ayman said while adjusting his tie. I lift my head to meet his gaze, his eyes staring right back at me behind those sunglasses, “And besides, they wouldn't just pick any random individual for this position.”
It’s indeed true that they wouldn't just choose a complete rando for the position, but that doesn't really erase some doubts. Would I disappoint them? Could I catch up? Am I gonna get fired on the first day? No, they wouldn't fire me, for a clandestine organization like this they'll most likely just shoot me in the head and keep it under the wraps.
My ears pick up chatter from the pilot, too low to make it up but just loud enough to be heard. I go back to peer over the windows again and soon, the helicopter begins to descend. From the tops of mountains we steadily drop in altitude and by now we're flying along the pass between them. Their massive scale overshadows us. With every second passing by my heart begins to thump wildly again, switching from nervous to excitement like a metronome swinging rapidly back and forth.
C’mon, Ame, you don't want to give them a bad first impression, right?
Soon, the helicopter lands, coming to a gentle stop. I hear the engine wind down as the noisy propeller transitions to an unnerving silence.
“We're here, Ms Watson.” I hear agent Ayman’s voice, as I turn my head towards his direction, “Welcome to your new home.”
The helicopter door slides open with a solid thud, followed by the group of soldiers exiting leaving me and Ayman inside. He gives me a nod as I unbuckle myself from my seat, grab my luggage, and then get escorted by the agent.
I take a quick glance at my surroundings, the deck is big, spacious enough to have four additional helicopters comfortably parked. Littered around the place were even more armed men surrounding the landing deck, but they're different from the ones that accompanied me. These people wear white uniforms, black boots, and black body armor on top. Their heads, meanwhile, adorn a helmet with a visor attached to it completely covering their faces. Most likely this place’s guards or something similar.
All of that would immediately fall to the back of my mind as something else would grab my attention. Ahead of me lay a massive, reinforced black door with the words above labeling it as GATE A . Giant imposing concrete surrounds the entrance with a few piles of snow and a pair of flood lights on each side of the gate. Curiosity takes control of my mind as my jaw drops unconsciously. The entire thing screams “you shouldn't be here” which does not help calm my nerves at all.
“I'm glad to finally see you in person.” The new voice catches me off guard, I frantically look left and right before I settle on a figure approaching me.
A lady in a short suit and tights walks towards me, her vibrant velvet eyes lay behind the glasses she wears. She sports a medium, shoulder length black hair with red underneath and not to mention the peculiar cowlick she has on top. Just from her confident stride and unrelenting eye contact, I can already feel the pressure she's putting on me. Her high heels clack with her every step until she's finally standing right in front of me.
“Call me Enma , Director of Area-90.” The woman named Enma introduces herself followed by putting her hand in front for a handshake.
“A-Amelia H. Watson.” Hastily, I return the favor.
Her gaze then shifts to the man just behind me, “Agent Ayman, thank you for bringing her here safely.” She said as she cross her arms, “Apologies if your schedule is a bit busy these days but, I'm sure you understand how important this is.”
“With that being said, you're dismissed.” Footsteps shortly followed as they faded out from behind my back.
For most of my time being under the Foundation, Ayman has been a constant figure of authority to me. He was the person I'm allowed to contact when it comes to anomalous findings, he was the one that berates me when I get too reckless, he was also the one that gave me missions, tasks, and so on and so forth. Now I'm alone, standing in front of an even higher figure of authority, completely surrounded by strangers.
“Come, Ms Watson, let's continue this in my office.” She turns around and begins walking. I lagged behind, still trying to get things sorted in my head as I briefly pick up the pace to catch up.
The giant metal door begins to slide open producing this mechanical whirr. Light from the inside begins to spill out like some kind of holy light, it almost feels like the gate to heaven… no, I wouldn't call an organization like this “heaven,” not in the slightest.
Never judge a book by its cover, that's for sure. Compared to the brutalist architecture of the outside, the inside is much more akin to a hospital or a laboratory. I guess you could say this entire complex is just one giant laboratory from the stuff I've heard and seen. Every bit of it, from ceiling to floor, is sterile and predominantly white only broken up by a band of color at the bottom portion of the walls, which is blue. Kinda in-line for a workplace that tolerates zero fuck-ups and expects highly from their employees.
Speaking of employees, we encountered lots of them walking up and about the corridors. Mainly researchers and other lab coat professions, rarely did we pass by some that's not wearing all white on the way.
This sterile environment every now and then it's broken up by a slightly different palette or design, but these seem to be reserved for a few rooms that we pass by. If I have to guess, those were probably laboratories or experiment chambers, maybe even leisure rooms. Fortunately, her place is one of those.
The Director’s office is well decorated with wooden furniture, carpeted floors, wallpaper, and ambient lighting that isn't oppressively harsh on the eyes. It's far more attractive than the bland, monotone ones I've seen used in this place. It even has a window peering over an office space. Of course, sightseeing isn't the reason why I'm here in the first place.
I sit on the other side of the desk facing Ms Enma as she searches for something from one of the drawers beneath her, “Do you know why you're here, Ms Watson?”
The sudden question blindsided me as I was still busy looking around the room. I wasn't expecting to be the one answering questions here, I guess I should've expected it to be an interview. I try to look for words but it all gets stuck in my throat. My hands begin fidgeting around as a single bead of sweat falls down my forehead all the way down to my chin.
“O-oh umm… y-you uhh,” My words turn into a babbling stutter trying to form a sentence, “A-Ayman told me that you've chosen me to be the head researcher for something.”
Coming back to face me, the Director places a folder closer to my end of the desk, pushing it a little as if saying I should view it. MYTH Project , that's what's written on the front of it. I then reach out and grab the folder before opening it to take a quick scan at its contents. Paragraphs after paragraphs detailing the description, goals and future plans of the project. It's ambitious to say the least.
“The Foundation has thousands of anomalies, or SCPs, under its belt.” Enma looks at me as she adjusts her glasses, “Among those thousands are a few human-like ones, like you and me, which raises a few concerns from the Ethics Committee.” Her forearm rests on the desk as she clasps her hands.
I have a sneaking feeling those “few” concerns aren't so few. From the hearsays I’ve heard and some comments from the Agent from the past are anything to go by, and it’s that the Foundation aren’t picky. They’ll use whatever means necessary to contains these anomalies and learn more about it. I try to hide my grimaced face as I continue listen and read through the compiled papers.
“To assess these problems the experimental Foundation Integration Policy is put up, and that’s where the MYTH Project comes in.” The Director finishes her speech, crossing her arms in the process.
I read through the rest of the paper before putting it down, soaking in the information and the additional context given to me, “So it's like a uhh, rehab program?”
“In a way.” She answers with a shrug, “Currently it's only in effect here, in Area-90, but if this proves to be successful we could see it be passed through all Foundation facilities.”
That's a lot of weight to carry on my shoulders. I'm not just leading any project, I'm leading a project that could change the very way the organization functions. Great… that's exactly what I wanted.
Glancing back at the folder in my hand as my head begins to fill with doubts. This is a huge responsibility, a policy that's entirely dependent on whether or not I'm successful at my job—forcefully put in the driver's seat. I don't know what she's thinking of putting me in charge when there's possibly other, more trustworthy employees in the Foundation fitting for this position. Looking back at her, I'm met with her striking red eyes that look like they glow in the dark, waiting for me to say something.
“I’m grateful that you chose me as the spearhead of this project, I really am, but…” I look away from her, staring at the floor, “are you sure that I'm the right person for this?”
A brief pause between us happens, total silence. Did I say something wrong? Did I offend her? Well, one way to find out I guess. A few seconds later, I hear a squeak from her swivel chair.
“Amelia H. Watson, chief detective at her own start-up private investigation agency.” My ears perk at the mention of my full name, “When I first read through your dossier I knew I found something special, one of a kind.” I raise my chin towards her.
“Out of all the possible choices I had, you possess something that no one else does, something that I was exactly looking for.” Her usually cold and serious façade is suddenly flashed with a subtle smile.
I can't help but smile a bit too, feeling a bit of pressure being taken away from my shoulders.
The Director then takes something out of her pocket before putting it down on the desk. It's a card that's yellowish-orange in color with a QR code and a number “3” plastered on the front of it. I pick it up, examining the card that I assume is given to me. It's similar to the one Agent Ayman has, from time to time he would show it but it was a different color.
“It's a clearance card, you'll need it here.” Enma answered my unsaid question before smiling, “Welcome to the team, Dr Watson.”