The system notification appeared like a small, golden spark in the otherwise quiet hum of my laboratory, but I could feel the weight behind it instantly. This wasn't just another SCP or a mundane system reward. This… was something else. Something game‑changing.
We can now summon talents from other worlds.
I blinked. Twice. Three times. Bright's head nearly popped off his shoulders as he read over my shoulder, his pale hands trembling in excitement. "Alex… you're not serious. You're joking, right?"
I shook my head, letting a slow smile creep across my face. "No joke, Bright. We can summon… people. From other universes. Other timelines. Fictional worlds. Anime worlds. Comic book realities. Anything. We can literally pull elite soldiers, scientists, strategists, warriors—whatever skill set we need—into our medieval-era Foundation."
The implications hit me so fast my head nearly spun. I had spent years building this empire—secret bases, infinite resources thanks to SCP-038, liquid vibranium, modern firearms, Neuralyzers, immortality, the works. But this… this was a force multiplier on a scale I had only dreamed of.
"Think about it," I murmured to Bright as I paced across the floor of Site‑17, the faint hum of electricity from the lab's early generators buzzing beneath my feet. "We've been limited by the humans in this world. Medieval intelligence, medieval combat skills, medieval science. But now we aren't. We can pull the best of the best from any universe into our world. We can have someone with the skills of a super-soldier, a tactical genius, a master of magic or science. And they'll fight for us, at least as long as we ensure they survive."
Bright nodded slowly, his grin growing. "You realize what this means, right? We can essentially build an army of elite operatives that no medieval kingdom could ever hope to match. Hell, even a modern army wouldn't stand a chance. And it's not just soldiers. Scientists, engineers, inventors, tacticians… you could summon someone like… I don't know, a Tony Stark-level genius or a modern military commander. We could jump centuries ahead in development overnight."
"Exactly," I said, already pulling up the system interface. My mind was racing a hundred miles a second. "But it's not without risk. They're still mortal. Once they die, that's it. No resummoning. And we can only summon each talent once. So the timing has to be perfect. We can't just pull in a warrior for a minor conflict and hope they survive a few centuries—because when the big threats arrive, we might need every single summoned talent we can get."
I tapped through the system's menu, and the interface flickered, showing options for summoning. A single line of text, asking what skill, what world, what talent I wished to call forth. I paused. The possibilities were infinite. Literally infinite. The trick would be restraint.
"Alex," Bright said, watching me carefully. "This is insane. Are you thinking about trying someone immediately?"
I shook my head slowly. "Not yet. We've got bases being built across the world, weapons being upgraded, SCPs being secured. We need to plan. I don't want to summon a tactical genius today only to have him die next year from a freak accident in medieval Europe. Each summon has to be timed perfectly. And each person… has to be worth it."
I leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment, letting my enhanced intelligence run through every scenario. I could summon specialists for construction—engineers who could instantly design advanced infrastructure, architects who could make Site‑17 and other bases nearly indestructible. I could summon combat masters to train our soldiers, teach modern tactics, even adapt medieval soldiers to 21st-century warfare in a fraction of the time. I could summon doctors, surgeons, and researchers to accelerate medical science in the Foundation.
And beyond the practical… there were the personal advantages. Imagine summoning people who were loyal, talented, and strategically aligned with us. People who didn't have the cultural biases or loyalties of this era. People who could outthink every general, politician, and warlord in Europe.
Bright finally spoke again. "You're thinking on a level most people don't even reach in their dreams. But you're also… scared. You're scared of making the wrong summon."
I opened my eyes and looked at him, letting a small smirk creep across my face. "Of course I am. Every decision from now on could change the fate of the world. One misstep, and we lose the talent forever. One misstep, and I could accidentally summon someone into the middle of a battlefield where they die instantly. I won't make that mistake. Every summon has to be perfect."
I spent the next several hours going over lists in my head, noting potential candidates from a hundred universes. Anime, comics, novels, video games, parallel Marvel realities… I filtered, analyzed, and ranked by skill, compatibility, survivability, and potential impact. Each choice would be critical.
By the time I finally leaned back in my chair, exhaustion buzzing in my bones but my mind still alive with possibilities, I realized one thing: we had just gained an unimaginable advantage.
This ability, combined with SCP-2000, SCP-038, Neuralyzers, SCP-006, vibranium, modern firearms, and all our immortality… it made the Foundation essentially invincible in this era. And, if I played it right, it could allow us to dominate the Marvel world in ways even the gods hadn't expected.
Bright, still hovering beside me, tilted his head. "You know… once we start doing this, there's no going back. You're basically building a universe-level private task force of absolute elite humans from across existence. It's… terrifyingly powerful."
I smiled, quietly, almost whispering. "Terrifyingly powerful is exactly what we need."
I typed a single note into the system chat, my fingers flying over the holographic keyboard. "No immediate summons. Begin planning. Each candidate must be thoroughly evaluated, survival probability calculated, skill synergy assessed. Timing is everything. Once the system rewards us with a summon opportunity, we will execute perfectly."
The system confirmed the command. Bright leaned back, shaking his head, muttering to himself about how insane I was. I didn't care.
This power changed everything. From this moment onward, the Foundation wasn't just a secret organization operating in the shadows. It was a force capable of rewriting the rules of reality itself.
And in my mind, I could already see it: armies of elite soldiers, master scientists, tactical geniuses, and brilliant minds from worlds that had never existed here before… all working for us. All loyal. All mortal, yes—but carefully chosen, carefully timed, carefully deployed.
I turned toward the window of Site‑17, the wind faintly rustling the electric cables and vibranium-lined walls. The medieval world outside would never know the storm that was coming. They would never even see the wind before it hit.
Because the Foundation had just become more than a secret organization.It had become an unstoppable engine of progress, intelligence, and power.
And from now on, no talent in the multiverse would be out of reach—if we were patient enough to wait for the perfect moment.
The game was changing.And I was already ten moves ahead.