Chapter 126: Concept of the Foundation
Leonard remained silent for a few moments, his mind racing to process what had just happened. Finally, he broke the silence.
"So… what happens now?" he asked cautiously.
The voice on the other end of the line replied, its tone calm yet brimming with an unfathomable weight.
"You and I have, in a manner of speaking, merged. Or rather, you've absorbed a fragment of me, along with my authority. I've become you, and you've become me. Fascinating, isn't it?"
Leonard's brow furrowed as he considered the implications. "Wait… does that mean I now share your… concept?"
"Precisely," the voice confirmed. "To understand our true nature is to understand the nature of the Foundation."
Leonard let out a deep sigh, his free hand running through his hair. Without another word, he hung up the phone, the click echoing in the infinite blackness around him. He turned to face his demon, who was leaning casually against nothing, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face.
"Well?" the demon asked, raising an eyebrow.
Leonard shrugged, exhaling in mild exasperation. "Looks like I've got a demon and a supreme deity squatting in my head now."
The demon snorted, his eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. "Oh, great. I was just getting comfortable in here by myself. Now I've got to share the space?"
Before Leonard could respond, the void around him shattered like glass, and everything went dark.
When he opened his eyes, he was back.
Leonard glanced around, disoriented but conscious, finding himself floating a few inches above the ground. He was surrounded by operators of Resh-1, their weapons lowered but their expressions tense.
Slowly, Leonard descended, his feet touching the floor without a sound.
Graves cautiously stepped forward, his demeanor hesitant yet composed. "Boss?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.
Leonard turned to him, a calm yet sharp expression on his featureless face. "Yes? Is there a problem?"
Graves hesitated, then conjured a mirror seemingly out of nowhere and extended it toward Leonard. "See for yourself."
Taking the mirror, Leonard stared at his reflection. His entire body was cloaked in shifting shadows, darker than the void itself. Three glowing white points formed his eyes and mouth, cutting through the darkness like distant stars. Everything else about his face and body was obscured, the shadows refusing to give any detail.
Lowering the mirror, Leonard examined his hands and legs, still engulfed in the same otherworldly blackness.
With a flicker of thought, Leonard accessed the system in his mind. Navigating swiftly, he opened the section labeled "Abilities" and selected the entry titled Fragment of the Administrator (Supreme Divinity). A detailed description materialized before him:
[Fragment of The Administrator:
Aura of the Administrator: Shrouds the host in an armor of shadow, blacker than the void, isolating the host's body from the external world and masking their identity.
Foundation's Domain: Wherever the Foundation exists, you exist. Grants the ability to project an avatar of the host within 50 meters of any Foundation personnel or site originating from the system.
Concept of the Foundation: As long as the concept of the Foundation persists in your universe, you cannot cease to exist. The host becomes functionally immortal, barring attacks on a conceptual level or interference from ideas more potent than that of the Foundation.]
Leonard's eyes widened, his breath quickening as excitement coursed through him. His hands trembled as he processed the sheer magnitude of what this fragment had given him. His lips curled into a smile, bright white against the shadowed void of his face.
Leonard willed the shadows enveloping his body to retreat, and in an instant, his appearance returned to normal. He closed his eyes briefly, focusing, and with a faint ripple of energy, a second Leonard materialized beside him.
The operators around him watched the scene in stunned silence, their confusion palpable.
Curious, Leonard reached out to touch the clone, but his hand passed right through it. "Interesting," he muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
With a flick of his wrist, the shadowy aura surged out from Leonard's clone, enveloping it. The figure solidified, taking on the same shadowy form Leonard had moments earlier. This time, when Leonard reached out, his hand made contact with the clone's firm surface. A grin spread across his face as he dismissed the duplicate with a wave.
Turning to face Graves and the operators, Leonard noticed their bewildered expressions. He sighed and said calmly, "Alert canceled. Training is over for today. Graves, come with me."
The operators exchanged glances before dispersing, their confusion unresolved. Graves, however, nodded and trailed after Leonard as they left the training hall.
Leonard ascended to the administrative floor, eventually arriving at Franz's office. He knocked, and after receiving a curt "Come in," he entered, Graves close behind.
Franz rose from his desk with his usual poise, gesturing for the two to take the seats by the side.
"So, Boss," Franz began, sipping his tea. "What triggered the alert? Something unusual within your body, perhaps?"
Leonard let out a tired sigh. "I've acquired the fragment of a Supreme Divinity."
The words hit like a thunderclap. Franz choked mid-sip, spewing tea all over an unsuspecting Graves, who flinched but remained silent. Coughing, Franz wiped his mouth hurriedly and exclaimed, "A fragment of a Supreme Divinity?! Are you serious?!"
Leonard nodded with a calm demeanor that only added to the tension in the room.
Franz asked cautiously, "Is this the kind of Supreme Divinity that takes control if someone understands its concept?"
Leonard shook his head firmly. "No. I've inherited the concept of the Foundation. I cannot die as long as the concept of the Foundation exists. Additionally, I can project my consciousness and even a manifestation of myself into any Foundation site."
Franz and Graves exchanged glances, then grinned.
Graves quipped, "Well, at least it'll be much harder to kill you now, which is excellent news, for you and the Foundation."
Leonard rubbed his chin thoughtfully, an idea forming in his mind. "I want to test this power. Is there any important mission scheduled this week?"
Franz pulled up his tablet and scanned the schedule. "Tomorrow, in Hamburg, Germany, there's a diplomatic mission involving the German branch. They're negotiating a trade agreement with Raptor Tec. Industries. The goal is to evaluate their anomalous products and, if possible, secure a contract to make them suppliers for the German branch. Additionally, we hope to reverse-engineer their technology to replicate it in-house."
He continued, "Two agents from the Department of External Affairs and a representative from the German O4 Council will attend. MTF DE8-ℜ 'Acies Carnifex' will be stationed nearby, ready to intervene if things go south."
Leonard's expression grew sharper. "When does the mission start?"
Franz checked his tablet again. "Accounting for time zones, their meeting begins at 4:00 AM our time."
Leonard nodded decisively. "Good. Inform the three agents that an additional representative will attend the meeting through anomalous means and will negotiate directly with Raptor Tec.'s leadership."
Franz raised an eyebrow. "I assume you're the 'additional representative'?"
Leonard smirked. "Who else?"
---
The black SUV cruised through the quiet early-morning streets of Hamburg, its sleek frame blending into the shadows of the still-slumbering city. Inside, the atmosphere was surprisingly casual for a team on a Foundation mission.
Klaus, the German driver, tapped the steering wheel in rhythm to a faint tune playing in his head. "So," he began, breaking the silence, "did anyone catch the Bayern game last night?"
Margarette, sitting behind him, stretched her arms and let out a groan. "Ugh, football. Don't get me started. My boyfriend's obsessed. I've seen more matches this month than I care to count."
Henry, seated beside her, smirked. "Let me guess, he's a PSG fan, and you're still bitter about their loss to Bayern in the Champions League."
She shot him a playful glare. "Not everyone in France roots for PSG, you know. Some of us have taste."
Klaus laughed, glancing at them through the rearview mirror. "PSG, Bayern, it doesn't matter. If you're not watching Borussia Dortmund, you're missing out."
"Ah, yes," Henry quipped. "The eternal bridesmaids of German football. Always the runner-up, never the champion."
Dieter, the Austrian representative, chuckled quietly from the passenger seat. "Well, at least they're consistent. Unlike Rapid Vienna. Supporting them is like playing roulette, you never know what you'll get."
Klaus grinned. "I take it you're a fan, then?"
Dieter shrugged. "Fan is a strong word. Let's just say I've endured more heartbreaks than I care to admit."
The conversation shifted as Margarette checked her phone. "Speaking of heartbreaks," she said, "did you see the news about that coffee shop closing down near Site-DE1? I loved their croissants."
Henry raised an eyebrow. "You're mourning a coffee shop? Margarette, you do realize we have anomalies threatening global stability, right?"
She smirked. "Oh, forgive me for appreciating the finer things in life, Henry. Some of us need more than coffee from a vending machine to survive."
Klaus chimed in, "I'm with Margarette on this one. Good coffee is worth fighting for. Speaking of which, any breakfast plans after the meeting? I've heard Hamburg has some incredible bakeries."
Henry shrugged. "As long as there's coffee, I'm in. Though, knowing our luck, we'll probably be stuck in negotiations until lunchtime."
Dieter, who had been silent for a moment, adjusted his tie and glanced at Klaus. "Speaking of the meeting, do we know anything about this fourth agent joining us? O4-1 was unusually vague about him."
Klaus shook his head. "Only that their identity is classified, even for us. Typical Foundation cloak-and-dagger stuff."
Margarette frowned slightly. "I don't like it. Classified personnel usually means someone with… unique capabilities or a very high-ranked personnel. That can go either very well or very badly."
Henry leaned back in his seat, his tone calm but measured. "Whatever the case, we stick to the plan. We're here to negotiate with Raptor Tec., not play detective. If the higher-ups think we need this mystery person, that's their call."
Dieter nodded. "Agreed. Let's focus on securing the deal. Raptor Tec.'s tech could be a game-changer for our operations."
Klaus glanced at the clock on the dashboard. "We're almost there. Remember, keep it professional and let them lead the conversation at first. Raptor Tec. loves to flex their expertise."
The SUV slowed as it approached the imposing glass facade of Raptor Tec. Industries. Klaus pulled into a discreet parking spot nearby and stayed behind as planned, leaving the others to handle the negotiations.
As the three agents stepped out into the crisp morning air, Margarette glanced back at Klaus. "Try not to fall asleep in there. We'll keep you updated."
Klaus chuckled. "Don't worry. I've got my coffee and a good view. Good luck there."
With a final nod, Margarette, Henry, and Dieter straightened their jackets and made their way toward the building.
The trio stepped forward and passed through the security checkpoint, entering a grand hall adorned with sleek modern furnishings. They approached the reception desk, where a professional-looking assistant greeted them. Dieter stepped forward and greeted her with a polite nod.
"Guten Morgen, Miss. We are representatives of the Bundeswehr and are here for the meeting with the CEO."
The assistant gave them a courteous smile. "Of course, right this way, please. The CEO is expecting you."
They followed her to an elevator, ascending to one of the upper floors. Stepping out, they found themselves in a sleek corridor that led to an expansive conference room. One side of the table was already occupied by Raptor Tec. representatives, all of whom stood as the trio entered.
Pleasantries were exchanged, handshakes, polite nods, and a few friendly words, before everyone took their seats around the polished conference table.
Dieter glanced at the youngest person seated at the table and remarked, "I must admit, I'm quite surprised to see that the CEO of Raptor Tec. Industries is so young. To achieve this level of success at your age, your future seems boundless."
The CEO chuckled, responding with a playful tone, "With so many compliments, you might just make me blush."
The three Foundation agents exchanged subtle glances before Dieter leaned forward, his tone shifting to a more serious one. "Well, I think it's time we drop the pretense."
The CEO tilted his head slightly, his expression questioning. "What do you mean by that?"
Dieter replied calmly, "Allow me to introduce ourselves properly. I am Agent Dieter, and these are Agents Margarette and Henry. We are representatives of the SCP Foundation."
A heavy silence fell over the room. The Raptor Tec. representatives exchanged uneasy glances, the tension palpable.
After a few moments, the CEO cleared his throat, his previously confident demeanor wavering slightly as he spoke, "What business does the Foundation have with us?"
Dieter maintained his composure, his tone steady. "As originally scheduled, we're here to discuss a commercial agreement. We're interested in reviewing, and potentially purchasing, your products. However, not on behalf of the Bundeswehr, but the SCP Foundation."
The room grew silent again as the Raptor Tec. representatives exchanged more concerned looks. Finally, the CEO nodded, attempting to regain his professional composure. "Very well. Let us begin the negotiations."
Dieter raised a hand slightly. "Not just yet. A fourth individual will be joining us shortly. They will handle the negotiations directly."
Before anyone could respond, a strange phenomenon began to unfold in the room. From the polished floor, a shadow started to materialize, a void of black so deep it seemed to devour the surrounding light. The shape twisted and expanded, forming into a humanoid figure.
The entire room erupted into motion. The Raptor Tec. representatives leaped to their feet, instinctively shielding their CEO and adopting defensive stances. Meanwhile, the three Foundation agents also stood, alert and cautious.
Piece by piece, the shadow solidified until it resembled a human form. Suddenly, two glowing white points appeared where its eyes would be, scanning the room methodically. Then, a third light, a mouth, appeared, and it spoke in a voice that seemed to resonate from both distant horizons and the immediate vicinity.
"Greetings. I apologize for this abrupt entrance. I am the Administrator, leader of the SCP Foundation."
The room seemed to plunge into a profound, almost oppressive chill. The once comfortable atmosphere transformed into something far more unsettling. Beads of sweat formed on the brows of the Raptor Tec. representatives, though the cold seemed to grip their very bones. The CEO, usually composed and confident, looked pale, his hand gripping the edge of the table tightly. The other representatives exchanged wide-eyed glances, their postures rigid with tension. Even the seasoned agents of the Foundation seemed wary, though their professionalism kept their expressions neutral.
After an agonizingly long moment, the three Foundation agents stood and bowed slightly in unison. "Greetings, Administrator," they said, their voices calm yet reverent.
The shadowy figure, Léonard, inclined his head in return, the white glow of his "eyes" and "mouth" casting faint shadows on the table. Without ceremony, he moved to an empty chair and sat, the dark aura around him seemingly dissipating slightly. The temperature of the room, while still cold, became bearable. His voice was steady but carried an undeniable weight.
"Well then," Léonard began, his tone carrying an air of finality. "Shall we commence the negotiations?"
The CEO blinked, shaking himself free of his hesitation, and with a nod, slowly lowered himself back into his chair. The rest of the room followed suit, though some hands still trembled as they adjusted their seating.
Léonard's glowing "eyes" seemed to lock onto the CEO. His words were measured and precise. "To start, the Foundation would like to place an order for standard ammunition, 6.8 x 51 caliber. A preliminary shipment of 50,000 units would suffice for evaluation purposes. What pricing structure can you offer us for this volume?"
The CEO adjusted his tie, his voice carefully neutral. "The 6.8 x 51 rounds are among our standard offerings. For a shipment of that size, the base price would be $1.15 per round. However, for an organization like yours, we are willing to offer a discounted rate of $0.95 per round, contingent on a long-term supply agreement."
Léonard nodded slightly, his gaze unwavering. "A fair starting point. However, the Foundation has certain logistical concerns. We require delivery to multiple secure locations worldwide. This would necessitate a reduction in cost to account for our specialized handling requirements. A revised rate of $0.85 per round would be more suitable."
The CEO hesitated for a moment, then gestured to one of his representatives, who quickly pulled up data on a tablet. After a whispered exchange, the CEO turned back to Léonard. "Administrator, while we understand your unique requirements, shipping and handling costs cannot be ignored. The best we can offer without compromising our margins is $0.90 per round for the initial shipment, with the possibility of renegotiation for subsequent orders."
Léonard tilted his head slightly, as if considering the offer. After a moment, he replied, "Agreed, for the initial shipment. Ensure that delivery protocols are followed precisely. Any deviation will be treated as a breach of contract."
The CEO nodded, relief flickering briefly across his face. "Understood. We'll ensure all arrangements are in line with your specifications. Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?"
Léonard leaned back slightly, his shadowy form shifting faintly. "Yes. Beyond ammunition, the Foundation has interest in your more specialized products. Specifically, anomalous weaponry and defense systems. Provide an overview of your current catalog in these categories, and we'll evaluate further purchases."
The CEO swallowed hard but gestured to one of his representatives, who began preparing the requested data.
The CEO rose from his chair, adjusting his suit with a practiced air of confidence. "I think you'd prefer to see actions rather than words on paper, correct?"
Léonard's glowing "eyes" narrowed slightly, a faint nod following. "Indeed."
The CEO gestured towards the door with an inviting motion. "This way, please." Turning to his subordinates, he added firmly, "The rest of you, remain here."
Léonard turned his head slightly towards the Foundation agents seated behind him. "You as well. Wait here."
Without another word, the two left the meeting room, the echo of their footsteps filling the now-silent space. They walked through a long corridor, the modern architecture lined with sleek walls and polished floors. Occasionally, they passed administrative staff and scientists. Each one, upon noticing the pair, instinctively moved aside, averting their eyes from the shadowy figure accompanying their CEO.
Entering an elevator, the CEO broke the silence as he pressed a button for a lower floor. "By the way, I never introduced myself properly. My name is Friedrich Braun."
Léonard turned his featureless head slightly toward the man. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Braun."
The elevator chimed softly as it reached its destination. The doors opened to reveal a corridor vastly different from the corporate halls above. This one was more industrial, with reinforced walls and occasional armed guards stationed along its length.
They continued in silence, Braun leading Léonard through the corridor until they arrived at a large set of double doors. Beyond, they entered an observation room with wide, reinforced glass windows overlooking several test chambers below. Each chamber was lined with sleek metal and lit by sterile, bright lights.
Friedrich gestured toward the observation deck, his voice carrying a note of pride. "Welcome to our demonstration area. Here, you'll get a firsthand look at what Raptor Tec. Industries can offer your organization."
Léonard stepped closer to the window, his glowing "eyes" surveying the chambers below. His voice, calm yet tinged with intrigue, filled the room. "Show me."
Friedrich nodded to a nearby technician, who immediately began preparing the demonstration. The faint hum of machinery activated in the background, the anticipation building as the first test chamber flickered to life.
Leonard observed attentively from the observation room as Friedrich Braun introduced one of Raptor Tec. Industries' flagship products. Beyond the reinforced glass, a brightly lit, heavily fortified test chamber revealed a humanoid mannequin made of a specialized metallic alloy at its center.
Friedrich gestured to a technician, who promptly entered a series of commands into a control panel. A discreet hatch opened on the far wall of the test chamber, and a tiny metallic object emerged, almost imperceptible in size.
"This is the R.T.I. 'Mosquito,'" Friedrich declared with a note of pride in his voice. "A combat drone of unparalleled precision and efficiency. It weighs just three milligrams and measures a mere centimeter in diameter."
Leonard leaned slightly closer to the glass, narrowing his eyes at the minuscule drone. Its sleek, mosquito-like form shimmered faintly under the chamber lights, its titanium body coated with an unknown alloy that gave it a distinct, almost otherworldly luster.
"The 'Mosquito' is not only resistant to environmental factors such as extreme heat, cold, and humidity," Friedrich continued, "but it's also impervious to physical impacts, corrosion, and most known corrosive substances."
As Friedrich spoke, the tiny drone activated, its miniature wings producing an almost imperceptible hum as it hovered effortlessly in the air.
"Its head comprises three critical components: a high-resolution camera for visual reconnaissance, a metal detector for precise targeting, and a micro-injection syringe. This syringe contains a foreign nutrient solution hosting a unique microorganism."
Friedrich's tone grew sharper, underscoring the seriousness of his next words. "Upon contact with oxygen, the microorganism becomes highly unstable. But when it touches metal, it rapidly multiplies, breaking down the material as though it were acid. Once its work is complete, the microorganism decomposes entirely, leaving no trace of either itself or the metal."
Leonard raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And its control?"
"The 'Mosquito' can operate autonomously through pre-programmed directives or be manually controlled via remote input," Friedrich replied confidently.
In the test chamber, the drone darted toward the metallic mannequin, weaving with unnerving precision. It paused briefly near the chest, then deployed its syringe. Within seconds, the alloy began to dissolve, the microorganism rapidly reducing the chest plate to nothing. No residue remained, just a gaping hole in the mannequin's structure.
Leonard observed silently, his gaze fixed on the drone as it returned to its docking station. Its efficiency was unnerving, almost surgical.
"Impressive," Leonard remarked after a moment, his voice steady. "But what about non-metallic targets? Or environments lacking oxygen?"
Friedrich smiled, his expression that of a man who had anticipated the question. "Those challenges are already in our research pipeline. But for its current purpose, targeting metallic systems with unparalleled precision, the R.T.I. 'Mosquito' is unmatched."
Leonard nodded thoughtfully, filing away the information for later. "A remarkable piece of engineering. Let's continue."
Leonard and Friedrich entered the adjacent observation chamber. Through the reinforced glass, Leonard immediately spotted the centerpiece of the room, a hulking, futuristic tank with sleek, angular lines and a design that radiated power and menace. Its matte finish bore the standard Bundeswehr camouflage pattern, but the distinct metallic sheen of the Raptor Tec. Industries coating was unmistakable.
Friedrich gestured toward the vehicle with a touch of reverence. "Allow me to present the R.T.I. Grizzly A1, a prototype built specifically to combat high-risk anomalous threats. It's based on the Leopard 2A6 chassis but heavily modified to serve as both a weapon and a fortress."
Leonard studied the tank, his gaze tracing the additional armor plating and reinforced turret. The vehicle's contours were smooth and modern, a sharp contrast to the rugged appearance of most military equipment.
Friedrich continued, his tone growing more animated. "The Grizzly is equipped with an advanced titanium alloy reinforced with some elements, the same as used on the R.T.I. Mosquito. This makes it virtually immune to most non-kinetic threats, including corrosion, extreme temperatures, and various forms of anomalous interference."
Leonard nodded slowly, noting the visible precision of its construction. "And the weaponry?"
Friedrich's smile widened. "The main gun is a railgun, engineered to fire 20mm steel projectiles. These rounds are coated with the same alloy as the tank itself, ensuring maximum durability and penetration. The velocity is adjustable, with a maximum muzzle speed of 25,000 m/s. This allows for extreme versatility in engagement, from precision strikes to full-scale bombardment."
Leonard raised an eyebrow. "And the secondary systems?"
"Instead of the standard coaxial machine gun," Friedrich replied, "we've installed a high-power speaker system capable of emitting sounds up to 200 decibels. It's both a communication tool and an anti-personnel deterrent. The AI that manages the Grizzly, 'Klara', also assists in optimizing sound usage to minimize collateral damage."
As Friedrich spoke, a team of technicians prepared the tank for a demonstration. One activated a console, and the Grizzly roared to life with an audible hum of power. The railgun swiveled smoothly, aiming at a row of heavily armored targets placed at various distances downrange.
"You'll want to watch closely, Administrator," Friedrich said, his voice tinged with pride.
The railgun fired with a flash of light and an earth-shaking crack. The steel projectile tore through the first target with ease, sending shards of reinforced metal scattering. The second target, nearly a kilometer away, fared no better, the projectile's velocity ensured that nothing in its path survived.
Leonard leaned forward slightly, impressed by the sheer destructive capability. "Impressive. But what about the crew?"
Friedrich hesitated, his pride momentarily dampened. "The Grizzly requires a two-person crew, a man and a woman, as the AI's operations depend on certain neural interactions unique to each gender. However, there's… a drawback."
Leonard's gaze sharpened. "Explain."
"Extended operation inside the Grizzly is lethal for its pilots," Friedrich admitted, his tone measured. "The systems degrade their neural functions over time. Once brain function deteriorates by 50%, the AI, 'Klara', will signal the need for a replacement crew. Only then will the hatches unlock."
Leonard frowned slightly, his mind turning over the implications. "And 'Klara'? What role does she play?"
"Klara is the AI controlling all systems of the Grizzly," Friedrich explained. "Her personality is modeled after one of our researchers, Dr. Klara Schmitt. The AI operates independently but is capable of limited interaction with the crew. She uses female pronouns and maintains a surprisingly human demeanor."
Leonard glanced back at the Grizzly as it powered down, its intimidating presence now silent and still. "An effective weapon, no doubt," he remarked, his tone neutral. "But the cost, both technological and human, is steep. It will require careful consideration."
Friedrich gave a respectful nod, sensing the weight of Leonard's evaluation. "Shall we move on to the next demonstration?"
Leonard straightened, his gaze unwavering. "Lead the way."
Leonard and Friedrich moved to yet another observation chamber, this one overlooking a separate testing room with reinforced walls and a controlled environment. Below, a man dressed in Raptor Tec. Industries standard gear held a sleek, futuristic-looking rifle.
Friedrich gestured toward the scene below. "The Hammer-P1. One of our most innovative projects, a true marvel of modern engineering. Unlike conventional firearms, it requires no traditional ammunition. Instead, it operates using an undisclosed mechanism embedded within its structure."
Leonard observed the weapon closely. The design was seamless, its titanium alloy frame gleaming under the bright overhead lights. It lacked any obvious seams or joints, giving it the appearance of being carved from a single, solid piece of metal.
"No seams," Leonard noted, his curiosity piqued. "A single-piece construction?"
"Precisely," Friedrich confirmed. "The Hammer-P1 was built as a single unit, ensuring absolute stability. There's no way to disassemble it without destroying it, making reverse-engineering impossible. Every component that isn't titanium alloy, such as the trigger and mode selectors, is crafted from high-grade materials like GRP, carbon, or aluminum. Its surface is coated with the same proprietary material we use for our other products, making it resistant to virtually all external influences."
Below, the tester switched the rifle to single-shot mode and aimed it at a live target, an animal. With a faint hum, the Hammer-P1 discharged. The animal collapsed instantly, its body visibly convulsing, though its skin remained entirely intact.
"Fascinating," Leonard murmured. "The lack of external damage…"
Friedrich nodded. "Yes. The Hammer-P1 doesn't fire conventional projectiles. Instead, it delivers a devastating impact to bones and organs while leaving the outer dermis untouched. It's completely silent except for a low hum when discharged, and the user feels no recoil."
The testing progressed to a more chilling demonstration. Two test subjects were brought into the room, both wearing standard-issue jumpsuits. The tester switched to burst mode and fired at the first subject. The test subject doubled over, clutching their torso as their ribcage visibly collapsed under the invisible force.
Leonard's expression remained impassive, though his eyes narrowed as he watched. "And the operational range?"
"A maximum of 326 meters," Friedrich replied. "The Hammer-P1's effectiveness is consistent within that range. Beyond that, the weapon's impact dissipates entirely. Additionally, it can penetrate any material, whether natural or man-made, rendering conventional cover obsolete."
The tester demonstrated this feature next, aiming at a steel barrier. The hum of the Hammer-P1 sounded, and the test subject standing behind the barrier collapsed as if struck by an invisible hammer.
Leonard's gaze remained fixed on the testing. "And the power source?"
Friedrich gestured to the weapon's lower section. "The battery compartment is fused with the weapon. It's permanently sealed to prevent tampering or removal. A small LED near the grip indicates the battery's status, but the power source itself is highly efficient and designed to last for thousands of discharges."
Leonard stepped closer to the glass, his voice low but firm. "This is a weapon of terrifying precision. The implications for both tactical advantage and ethical consideration are significant."
Friedrich crossed his arms, his tone unwavering. "We designed the Hammer-P1 with one purpose: neutralizing threats swiftly and efficiently. Whether it's anomalous entities or hostile forces, this weapon ensures the wielder has the upper hand."
Leonard turned to Friedrich, his expression unreadable. "A fine balance between power and restraint, as all weapons should be."
Friedrich gave a small bow. "Let's proceed with the next demonstration."
Leonard and Friedrich left to yet another observation chamber. Below, in a sealed testing room, a robotic drone hovered in mid-air, a small, oval-shaped device with a sleek, adaptive surface that shimmered faintly as its colors blended with the surrounding environment.
Friedrich gestured toward the drone. "Allow me to introduce the R.T.I. Miasma, one of our more… unconventional designs."
Leonard studied the device intently. It floated effortlessly, its movements smooth and precise. The camouflage was near-perfect; the drone appeared to melt into the background as its surfaces adjusted in real time.
"An impressive display of adaptability," Leonard remarked. "What powers its locomotion?"
"A proprietary kinetic energy manipulation mechanism," Friedrich explained. "The details remain classified even within Raptor Tec., but suffice it to say, it can generate its own force and direction for floating and maneuvering. It can reach speeds up to 5 meters per second and exert up to 10 Newtons of force on obstacles. It's also self-righting, so even if it's knocked over, it adjusts itself."
In the testing room, the R.T.I. Miasma demonstrated its maneuverability, weaving through obstacles with precision. It floated closer to a target dummy, its upper segment lowering to reveal a series of intricate gas nozzles.
Friedrich continued. "This is the Miasma's primary weapon system. Those nozzles can emit various chemical agents, including mustard gas, hydrogen cyanide, and tear gas. More impressively, it can combine these agents into unique blends designed to bypass conventional protective gear. Standard gas masks are ineffective against it; only advanced protective suits with integrated oxygen supplies provide adequate defense."
The drone emitted a faint hiss as it sprayed a chemical agent toward the target dummy. Moments later, the dummy's surface bubbled and corroded, a stark demonstration of the weapon's potency.
Leonard's gaze shifted to the upper segment of the drone, where a small camera and microphone were visible. "And its surveillance capabilities?"
"It's equipped with a high-resolution camera and an advanced microphone. It can capture audio from 1,000 Hz to 30 kHz and relay visual and auditory data in real time. The microphone doubles as a speaker, allowing the Miasma to communicate."
Leonard raised an eyebrow. "Communicate?"
Friedrich's expression turned more guarded. "Yes. The R.T.I. Miasma houses two distinct entities. The first is the drone's AI, responsible for its operations. The second… is a demon."
Leonard's eyes narrowed slightly. "A demon?"
Friedrich nodded. "The demon is sealed within the Miasma. It has no control over the drone, but its energy serves as a power source, significantly enhancing the drone's performance. The AI and the demon are capable of communicating with each other and with their surroundings through the speaker."
Leonard's gaze remained fixed on the drone, which now hovered silently in the testing chamber. His voice dropped to a murmur. "A demon."
Friedrich glanced at him, noting the faint tension in his tone. "Is there a problem?"
Leonard's lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "Let's just say I've had my fill of demons this month."
Friedrich chuckled lightly. "Understandable. But rest assured, the containment measures are flawless. The demon cannot influence or escape the Miasma."
Leonard's gaze didn't waver. "For your sake, I hope that's true."
In the chamber below, the Miasma returned to its passive state, its upper segment sliding back into place to conceal its weapon system. The drone's adaptive surface shimmered once more, blending perfectly with the room's backdrop.
Leonard and Braun exited the laboratories and entered the elevator, engaging in a brief discussion about the technical details of the products they had just reviewed. Braun expressed pride in his company's innovations, while Leonard offered a reserved yet approving nod, his mind focused on the practical applications of these tools for the Foundation.
When they returned to the conference room, the air was tense yet professional. Braun reclaimed his seat at the head of the table, while Leonard took his place opposite him. The Foundation agents and R.T.I. representatives watched in silence as the two men began the negotiations.
Braun opened a document on the tablet before him and began listing the official prices:
R.T.I. Mosquito: €1,999,999.99
R.T.I. Grizzly A1: €15,000,000.00
R.T.I. Hammer-P1: €9,000,000.00
R.T.I. Miasma: €2,500,000.00
Leonard leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "Those are ambitious figures, Mr. Braun. While I don't question the quality of your products, the Foundation is no stranger to innovation. We're seeking partnership, not exploitation."
Braun smiled thinly. "And I assure you, Mr. Administrator, these prices reflect the pinnacle of modern paratechnological engineering. But I'm open to finding common ground."
What followed was a meticulous, hour-long exchange. Leonard pressed on the necessity of proving R.T.I. 's loyalty and adaptability, emphasizing the potential for a longer-term partnership if this initial deal proved successful. Braun countered with a demonstration of R.T.I. 's commitment to precision and exclusivity, assuring Leonard that these tools were built with the Foundation's unique needs in mind.
After calculating discounts, agreeing on logistics, and outlining additional service guarantees, the final agreement was reached:
1 R.T.I. Mosquito
1 R.T.I. Grizzly A1
1 R.T.I. Miasma
10 R.T.I. Hammer-P1 rifles
Total cost: 60,750,000.00€
The payment plan was structured into six equal installments over the next six months, ensuring the Foundation's fiscal flexibility while maintaining Braun's satisfaction with the terms.
Both men reviewed the contract before them, signing it with firm strokes. Braun extended his hand, which Leonard accepted with a measured grip.
"I look forward to seeing how these products perform in the field, Mr. Administrator," Braun said, his tone both polite and confident.
"As do I, Mr. Braun. Rest assured, the Foundation will honor its commitment. Let's hope this marks the beginning of a fruitful collaboration."
With that, the deal was sealed, and the room relaxed slightly as the two parties acknowledged the successful conclusion of their negotiations.
Leonard turned to the Foundation agents, his form still exuding an air of command despite the imminent end of his presence. "The mission is complete. Leave the area."
Without another word, his shadow began to sink into the floor, cascading like liquid as his form dissolved into nothingness. In mere moments, Leonard vanished, leaving behind no trace of his existence except for the oppressive aura that had dominated the room. The pressure lifted abruptly, prompting audible sighs of relief from the R.T.I. representatives.
Braun leaned back in his chair, his previously unflappable demeanor cracking slightly. "Quite the… presence," he muttered under his breath, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.
The three Foundation agents exchanged glances. Dieter shrugged and let out a sigh. "Well, ladies and gentlemen," he began, turning to the representatives, "it's been a pleasure doing business with you."
Braun escorted the trio to the exit, exchanging formal farewells before watching them step into their waiting vehicle. The sleek black car had been stationed nearby, their driver already in place.
Once inside, the agents settled into their seats, the tension still lingering in the air. The vehicle rolled forward smoothly, and for a moment, silence reigned as they processed the surreal encounter. Finally, Margarette broke the quiet.
"So," she said lightly, "how does everyone feel about German anomalous engineering?"
Henry smirked, adjusting his tie. "Overpriced."
Dieter chuckled softly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "I'll admit, their designs are impressive. But the Administrator's presence… It's hard to focus on the specs when he's in the room."
"No kidding," Margarette agreed, leaning back in her seat. "It's like the air gets heavier, and your thoughts can't move fast enough."
Henry tapped his temple. "I wonder if it's intentional or just a side effect of… well, whatever he is."
Dieter shook his head. "I've learned not to wonder too much about him. Keeps me sane."
The conversation drifted to lighter topics, how the weather had been unusually pleasant for this time of year, a memorable restaurant from their last assignment, and a debate about whether Dieter should try modernizing his wardrobe.
As they laughed over Margarette's insistence that Dieter's tie was "straight out of the '90s," the driver's voice cut through their banter.
"We're being followed."
Instantly, the jovial atmosphere evaporated. The agents straightened in their seats, their expressions sharpening as they scanned the surrounding streets through the tinted windows. Dieter's hand instinctively moved toward the holster at his side.
"Details," he demanded, his tone brisk.
The driver's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. "Black SUV, four o'clock. Been trailing us since we left the facility."
Margarette leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. "Let's see… should we escape or should we call reinforcement."
Dieter pulled out a sleek, unmarked phone, his fingers tapping a number with practiced precision. Holding the device to his ear, he spoke in a low, measured tone: "Rex-1, this is Hanzel. We're being tailed by an unmarked vehicle. Requesting immediate assistance. Over."
A calm but authoritative voice responded. "Acknowledged, Hanzel. Proceed to Street XXXX. We'll set up an intercept. Maintain your course and don't engage."
Dieter ended the call, his expression tight as he addressed his companions. "We're heading to the street XXXX. Keep your eyes sharp."
The driver, alert and unfazed, adjusted their route, skillfully weaving through Hamburg's bustling streets. The shadow of their pursuer remained constant in the rearview mirror, a black SUV, its tinted windows obscuring any view of its occupants.
Margarette glanced over her shoulder, her hand brushing the firearm at her hip. "They're not trying to be subtle. Amateurs or desperate?"
"Doesn't matter," Henry replied, his tone clipped. "They'll get what's coming."
The vehicle turned sharply into a narrow alley, its tires skimming the edge of the pavement. As they approached the rendezvous point, the street grew quieter, the cacophony of the city giving way to an eerie stillness. The black SUV followed, its intentions clear.
Suddenly, from seemingly nowhere, six white vans with no markings roared onto the scene, converging at strategic points to block all three exits of the alley. Their sliding doors opened in unison, revealing heavily armed SEK (German police tactical unit) operatives clad in tactical gear. Their weapons were drawn, each movement precise and synchronized.
The SUV's driver hesitated for a moment, then made the reckless decision to reverse in an attempt to escape. Before it could gain any distance, the SEK units opened fire, their aim precise as bullets shredded the tires. The vehicle screeched to a halt, losing control and careening into the side of the alley wall with a deafening crash.
Smoke billowed from the engine as the SEK operatives advanced in formation, their movements swift and efficient. One of them pulled a grenade from his belt, a flashbang. With a practiced throw, it landed inside the compromised SUV and detonated with a blinding flash and a deafening bang.
"Clear it!" barked the SEK team leader.
The operatives surged forward, smashing the vehicle's doors with batons and breaching tools. Inside, three dazed and disoriented individuals were dragged out, their hands quickly cuffed behind their backs. Their faces were a mixture of shock and defiance, but resistance was futile under the overwhelming force of the SEK.
One of the operatives, distinguishable only by the tactical visor on his helmet, approached Dieter. His voice was firm but neutral. "Hanzel, you're to be escorted by Bundespolizei vehicles to Site-DE7. Orders from the O4 Council."
Dieter sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly as the tension of the pursuit subsided. "Fine. Lead the way. Not like we have much of a choice."
Margarette raised an eyebrow, a wry smile playing at her lips. "Bundespolizei? Always a pleasure to ride with Germany's finest."
Henry leaned back in his seat, exhaling a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Let's hope this trip doesn't come with more surprises."
The agents exited their car. Two Bundespolizei vehicles pulled up moments later, their flashing lights casting sharp reflections on the alley walls. The agents climbed into the backseat of one of the cars, the SEK ensuring their safety as they prepared to escort the team to the designated site.
As the convoy pulled away, Dieter glanced out the window, watching the cityscape blur past. His expression was unreadable.