FBI: Chapter 66/67

Chapter 66: You Will Become...

"…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.)

Chapter 67: One Minute Ion Man

As soon as that voice rang out, even with the Will Green Light stabilizing him, Dante froze for a moment.

When he came to, he found himself inside a vast, crimson temple—soaked in red from floor to ceiling.

But unlike the Warden's facility, which had been forcibly stained with red energy, this place felt... natural. Like the crimson had always been part of it. Born into the stone.

Dante's eyes scanned the darkness stretching deep into the heart of the temple.

He should go inside.

Yeah. Go inside.

That thought surfaced out of nowhere, uninvited—but it felt too smooth, too certain.

Immediately, Dante snapped to attention.

Even with Batman's willpower—a mind strong enough to awaken and command the Ancestral Green Lantern Ring—he was still being subtly influenced by Cyttorak's consciousness.

An unseen pressure had already started crawling up his spine.

And still, Dante stepped forward without hesitation.

The moment he entered, the pitch-black void lit up around him.

He didn't know where the light source was coming from, but his vision cleared instantly.

A long, crimson corridor stretched endlessly inward. Dante walked. And walked. And kept walking.

Time slipped.

There was no rhythm here, no sense of movement—just the eerie echo of footsteps that shouldn't have existed.

This wasn't a normal universe. In Cyttorak's Crimson Cosmos, time and physics weren't even on speaking terms with reality.

After what felt like two hundred steps—but who the hell could be sure—the infinite corridor suddenly ended.

Dante took one more step forward... and the space around him unfolded.

The temple interior floated like it was suspended at the center of the entire universe. No crimson walls to his sides, front, or back—just a cosmic void stretching forever.

A crimson cosmic void, of course.

He looked up—and at some point, a towering "person" had materialized on the Crimson Throne in front of him.

"Human. You are... very interesting."

"Oh great, another one of you," Dante muttered, unimpressed. "Why is it that you minor gods always love to open with, 'You are very interesting'?"

He looked like he was having an allergic reaction to the cliché.

"No, human named Dante," Cyttorak said, leaning forward slightly. His massive form finally revealed itself fully on the throne. "I genuinely find you interesting."

The armor on Cyttorak's body was the same as Juggernaut.

Which pretty much confirmed it: the Juggernaut was a vessel—a suit—meant to let Cyttorak descend into the physical universe whenever he damn well pleased.

Jack Bright's current Juggernaut form—the one duking it out with the three Asgardian siblings—was also just that: a Juggernaut, empowered by Rage Red Light and imprinted with a shard of Cyttorak's will. Basically a clone.

And this… this was the catch.

Anyone who received the so-called "eternal immortality" of the Juggernaut would one day become Cyttorak's meat puppet.

Their original soul and consciousness? Erased, the second the real Cyttorak came knocking.

Immortal, sure—but headed straight for annihilation.

What a poetic little curse.

"As a demon god from an entirely different dimension, I'm not even sure you have what we'd call a 'heart.' Both your body and soul are built on rules that completely break human understanding."

"Hahaha. And yet you're still over here thinking all this through."

Cyttorak chuckled. "Every creature who's ever become a Juggernaut has fallen—completely consumed by power the moment they laid eyes on this temple. But you… you walked in, stood before me, and held your ground."

"That's because I know this is just a projection. The Crimson Gem dragged me here into the Crimson Cosmos. It's not actually you."

Even Dante was surprised. Aside from the whispers, Cyttorak's power didn't affect him directly at all.

"Will Green Light. Dionysus Factor. A bit of Asgardian genetic leakage... You are superior to every Juggernaut before you. No—you're superior to all of them combined."

Cyttorak didn't deny anything. Instead, he saw through Dante with a single glance—cataloging all of his powers in a heartbeat. Even the Dionysus Factor.

Even Batman—the literal "creator god" of DC logic—couldn't detect the Dionysus Factor in Joker's blood. And Cyttorak spotted it instantly.

"I never said I wanted to be a Juggernaut," Dante said.

"That's not your decision to make."

As soon as Cyttorak spoke, the entire Crimson Cosmos glowed brighter.

One thought from him was enough to shift his own universe.

Dante hadn't even finished being impressed when Ion Shark's voice exploded in his ears.

"Guardian! Merge with me now! Fast!"

"Otherwise, you're really gonna get dragged into the Crimson Cosmos!"

Dante froze, baffled.

Why the hell could Jack Bright just say "nah" and bounce, while he was about to be pulled in like a free upgrade?

He didn't believe for a second that Jack escaped. Cyttorak just wasn't interested enough.

...Is this guy seriously that into my body?!

And sure enough, something felt off. Everything around him was turning real. Solid.

He was starting to separate from the physical universe.

Shit. This bastard meant business!

Dante instantly summoned the Ancestral Green Lantern Power Battery.

Ion Shark didn't linger in the battery this time—he dove out and zipped straight into Dante's Lantern Ring.

"Guardian! I told you—I'm a newborn Lantern Beast. We can only hold fusion for one minute."

"One minute. Is that enough?"

"It's enough."

In the next instant, Dante's Green Lantern uniform morphed.

A sleek, green mask formed over his face.

For one minute—just one—Dante would become the Lantern Corps' strongest form:

Ion Man.

Ion Shark poured all of his power into Dante without hesitation, and in an instant, Dante had full command of the Ion Man form.

Granted, since Ion Shark was still newborn, this wasn't the peak Ion Man that could bend time or rewrite causality—but it was enough.

Enough to push back Cyttorak's cosmic influence bleeding into the real world.

Thirty seconds.

That's all it took for Dante to sever all contact with Cyttorak.

In a blink, the dimension shattered—and he was back inside the Warden's building.

"I underestimated you," Cyttorak's voice echoed faintly. "A newborn Lantern Beast... already born inside your Lantern Furnace."

"I'm very curious, Dante."

"What kind of chaos will you unleash... in the real world?"

"I'll be watching."

His voice faded.

And then there was silence.

(To be continued.)