Morag was not dead.
It only looked dead.
That was the first thing Sun Tzu noted as the Imperial shuttle descended through its atmosphere.
The planet was silent, yes—but not empty in the way abandoned worlds usually were.
It felt… watched.
Like something ancient had simply stopped pretending to care.
Above the surface, the Foundation's Star Destroyer remained in high orbit, its systems scanning continuously.
No life signs.
No civilizations.
No modern infrastructure.
Only ruins.
And one anomalous signature—faint, buried deep within a long-collapsed temple structure.
Sun Tzu stepped into the Imperial shuttle without ceremony.
Behind him, the Red Right Hand assembled in perfect silence.
They did not speak.
They did not hesitate.
They simply followed.
The shuttle descended.
The surface of Morag came into focus:
cracked stone plainscollapsed monolithshalf-buried alien architecture
A civilization erased so thoroughly that even history seemed uncertain it ever existed.
And yet—
the signal persisted.
Sun Tzu watched the display calmly.
"Target location confirmed."
No emotion.
No excitement.
Just operational clarity.
The shuttle landed near the ruins of a massive temple complex.
Ancient stone structures stretched upward like broken teeth against a grey sky.
No movement.
No resistance.
No sound.
That alone was suspicious.
Sun Tzu raised a hand.
"Perimeter."
Instantly, the Red Right Hand dispersed.
Tactical formation.
Covering angles.
Scanning for anomalies, traps, and dimensional distortions.
Inside the temple, the air shifted.
Not physically—but perceptually.
Reality felt thinner here.
Like the boundary between normal physics and something else was weakened.
Sun Tzu entered first.
The rest followed.
The interior was vast.
Columns carved from unknown materials stretched into darkness.
Symbols lined the walls—non-human, non-alphabetic, yet somehow still conveying meaning.
Power.
Containment.
Warning.
At the center of the chamber stood a pedestal.
And upon it—
a floating orb.
The Power Stone container.
No guards.
No defenses.
No machines.
Just silence.
That was the most dangerous part.
Sun Tzu stopped at the edge of the chamber.
"…It is not unprotected," he said quietly.
One of the Red Right Hand members shifted slightly.
"Sir?"
Sun Tzu didn't look away from the orb.
"It is waiting."
Still, the mission required action.
He gestured once.
"Retrieve."
A single operative stepped forward.
Carefully.
Deliberately.
The moment their hand approached the orb—
reality reacted.
A barrier erupted outward.
Invisible at first.
Then visible as a distortion in space itself.
The operative's hand struck it.
And instantly—
burned.
Not fire.
Not heat.
Something worse.
A conceptual burn.
Like the laws of physics themselves rejecting contact.
The operative didn't scream.
They didn't even step back.
They simply clenched their jaw.
And pushed forward.
"Do not retreat," Sun Tzu ordered calmly.
The operative obeyed.
They forced their hand through the barrier.
The pain escalated instantly.
Skin destabilizing at a molecular level.
Then deeper.
Bone.
Nerve.
Structure.
Fourth-degree burns formed in seconds.
But they maintained grip.
And pulled.
The orb shifted.
The barrier collapsed inward violently—
and then vanished.
Silence returned.
The operative staggered back, clutching the artifact.
Their hand was catastrophically damaged.
Beyond normal medical repair.
A medic from the Red Right Hand immediately stepped forward.
Without hesitation.
They injected a compact containment vial of a highly restricted regenerative compound—
a stabilized, Foundation-produced derivative of SCP-500.
Within seconds—
the burns reversed.
Tissue reformed.
Nerves reconnected.
Function restored.
The operative flexed their hand once.
Then nodded.
No words needed.
Sun Tzu observed the orb now in containment grip.
Stable.
Secure.
Finally obtained.
"Extraction complete," he said.
The Red Right Hand re-formed formation.
And moved back toward the shuttle.
Efficient.
Silent.
Controlled.
Outside, Morag remained unchanged.
Still.
Empty.
Waiting.
As if nothing had ever happened.
The shuttle lifted off.
Dust rising briefly before settling again into the ancient ruins.
In orbit, the Star Destroyer acknowledged the return signal immediately.
Docking procedures initiated.
Containment protocols prepared.
Inside the command bridge, Sun Tzu held the orb in a stabilized field container.
Power within it pulsed faintly.
Not reacting.
Not resisting.
Just aware.
He studied it briefly.
Then spoke into the Foundation channel.
"Primary objective secured."
A pause.
"Return trajectory initiated."
And somewhere far away—
on Earth—
you watched the signal return.
The first Infinity Stone had been recovered.
And the universe did not react loudly.
It never did at first.
It simply began adjusting.
Quietly.