London's skyline glowed beneath the rain as Julius stepped out of the armored vehicle.
Five members of the Red Right Hand immediately surrounded him.
Silent.
Efficient.
Deadly.
Even among Foundation elites, the Red Right Hand stood at the absolute top.
Every one of them was genetically enhanced, anomalously empowered, and trained beyond what normal humans could even comprehend.
They weren't soldiers.
They were monsters dressed as soldiers.
And every single one of them would willingly die for the O5 Council without hesitation.
Julius adjusted his gloves slightly as he entered the penthouse apartment overlooking London.
The room was luxurious but practical.
Secure.
Protected by multiple thaumaturgic barriers and anti-surveillance fields.
Even SHIELD satellites would see nothing but static.
One of his guards spoke quietly.
"Sir, the Council is waiting."
Julius nodded once.
"Begin the connection."
The massive screen across the penthouse wall flickered to life.
Then another.
And another.
Until thirteen separate windows appeared.
The O5 Council.
The thirteen most powerful people on the planet.
Possibly the most dangerous as well.
Some sat within offices.
Others in laboratories.
War rooms.
Containment chambers.
Underground bunkers.
One monitor simply showed a giant glass container connected to countless supercomputers.
O5-7.
The Brain.
I leaned back slightly in my chair as everyone connected.
My puppet body sat at my desk inside Site-19 while my real body continued working elsewhere on the Herta puppet production line.
Parallel processing.
One of the benefits of my current situation.
"Status reports," I ordered calmly.
Immediately the room shifted into professional silence.
Julius spoke first.
"The British seat is secured."
A few approving nods appeared across the screens.
Lincoln adjusted his tie slightly.
"The American seat is secured as well. President Bush required minimal pressure."
Minimal pressure.
Which for Lincoln probably meant only slight political blackmail and a few million dollars.
"Excellent," I said.
Two seats.
That gave us influence over the World Security Council.
Not total control.
Yet.
But enough influence to start quietly interfering with SHIELD operations.
Darius' shadow-covered face flickered slightly on-screen.
Even through advanced video systems, his features remained obscured unnaturally.
Like reality itself refused to focus on him.
"I've already begun infiltration operations within SHIELD," he said calmly.
"Several sleeper agents have reached middle-level administrative positions."
Of course they had.
If Darius wanted information—
He got it.
The man was terrifying.
Not because he was loud.
But because he was quiet.
Darius never wasted words.
Never panicked.
Never hesitated.
He simply erased problems before most people realized those problems existed.
Then I decided to drop the real announcement.
"I located the Power Stone."
Silence.
Immediate.
Absolute.
Every monitor focused on me.
Even The Brain's processing activity visibly spiked.
Sun Tzu folded his hands slowly.
"You're certain?"
I nodded.
"Coordinates to Morag confirmed."
A faint grin appeared on Louis' face.
"Now that," he muttered, "is interesting."
Interesting was an understatement.
The Infinity Stones were arguably the most valuable objects in the universe.
Singularities of existence itself.
Weapons capable of reshaping reality.
And now—
One was within reach.
"I propose deploying one of our Star Destroyer fleets to retrieve it," I said.
That immediately started the argument.
"Too risky," Cleopatra said instantly.
"You're talking about deploying interstellar military assets for an object capable of destroying planets."
"It's also capable of powering civilizations," Alex countered immediately.
Their shadow-covered figure flickered slightly as holographic schematics appeared around them.
"With proper containment research—"
"With proper containment research," Cleopatra interrupted sharply, "you nearly exploded Site-08 last year."
"That was statistically unlikely."
"It literally happened."
Julius sighed softly.
There it was.
The Foundation's greatest tradition.
Brilliant people arguing about whether reality should be broken responsibly.
Sun Tzu finally spoke.
"The operation itself is feasible."
His voice was calm.
Measured.
Like every sentence had already been calculated ten moves ahead.
"But leadership is the issue."
That was the real problem.
The mission would likely take years.
Possibly longer.
And whoever led it needed to be powerful enough to survive cosmic-level threats.
Unfortunately—
Every O5 member was too important to Earth operations.
I couldn't leave.
The Foundation's scientific expansion, puppet systems, magical research, and future space station projects all depended on me directly.
Julius couldn't leave either.
Without Sentinel, the Foundation's internal stability would collapse within months.
He was the calm center holding together the most dysfunctional collection of geniuses in existence.
Darius?
Impossible.
If the Watcher left Earth, our intelligence network would suffer catastrophic blind spots.
The man practically was the Foundation's information infrastructure.
Sun Tzu could technically lead the mission.
But removing the General from Earth during a period of growing cosmic instability felt reckless.
The man coordinated most of our military logistics personally.
If Earth remained peaceful—
That was usually because Sun Tzu planned it that way.
Cleopatra smiled faintly.
"I refuse."
Nobody even questioned it.
Because if the Ethicist vanished into space—
The Ethics Committee would become unbearable within weeks.
Then one monitor suddenly crackled.
A distorted synthetic voice echoed through the meeting.
"The probability of operational collapse without primary Overseers present exceeds seventy-three percent."
The Brain.
The camera briefly focused on the massive glass chamber containing the hyper-intelligent brain suspended in fluid.
Countless cables connected directly into surrounding supercomputers.
An immortal strategist trapped forever as living machinery.
"I cannot physically leave Earth," The Brain continued.
"My survival infrastructure requires stationary containment."
Fair.
Hard to lead space expeditions when you're literally a brain in a jar.
Louis leaned back casually.
"I'd volunteer," he admitted.
"Except someone has to monitor Groups of Interest while the rest of you maniacs go treasure hunting."
Lightning crackled faintly across his fingers.
William spoke next.
"Sending multiple Overseers together increases catastrophic risk."
Of course the Doomsday Planner already had simulations running.
The man probably had seventeen contingency plans prepared before the meeting even started.
Charles remained silent.
As usual.
The Archivist simply continued taking notes.
Watching.
Recording.
The silent guardian of timelines.
Sometimes I genuinely forgot he was there until he suddenly spoke.
Which was rare.
And deeply unsettling every single time.
Lincoln finally sighed.
"We may need a non-O5 commander."
That caused immediate tension.
Because the Power Stone was too valuable to trust lightly.
Alex immediately objected.
"No."
Their shadow-covered figure leaned forward.
"Absolutely not."
"We cannot hand an Infinity Stone operation to standard personnel."
"And we cannot remove half the Council from Earth," Julius countered calmly.
The room quieted slightly.
Because when Julius spoke calmly—
People listened.
He was the Foundation's stabilizer.
The diplomat.
The man who somehow managed to keep immortal gods, mad scientists, warlords, and anomalous monsters functioning as one organization.
Frankly, it was miraculous the Foundation hadn't imploded centuries ago.
"We create a specialized expedition command," Julius continued.
"Handpicked personnel."
"Red Right Hand support."
"Dedicated fleet assets."
"And direct oversight from the Council remotely."
Sun Tzu slowly nodded.
"Acceptable."
Darius tilted his head slightly.
"I already have candidates."
Of course he did.
The man probably had psychological profiles prepared before the meeting began.
I leaned back slightly.
The operation was escalating quickly.
Faster than expected.
An Infinity Stone.
A Star Destroyer fleet.
Interstellar deployment.
And somewhere in the back of my mind—
Herta's memories were already running calculations.
Designs.
Probabilities.
Research pathways.
A space station.
The Simulated Universe.
Advanced puppet bodies.
Cosmic-scale infrastructure.
My ambitions were becoming larger.
Far larger.
And honestly?
That was probably dangerous.
But if humanity was going to survive the future—
Then the Foundation needed to evolve beyond Earth itself.
The meeting continued for another three hours.
Arguments.
Contingencies.
Military projections.
Ethics concerns.
Budget allocations.
Reality-failure probabilities.
Just another normal day for the O5 Council.