"Before we head to Cross Technologies, there's one more thing we need," Dr. Pym said, pulling a worn sheet of paper from a pile of blueprints and spreading it open. "Getting this will be your final test."
The diagram showed a device made up of interlocking metallic rings.
"What is that?" Scott asked curiously.
"A signal scrambler," Pym replied. "I invented it back when I was with S.H.I.E.L.D. It masks and blocks transmissions. We need to install it in the lab's vault to disguise our communications."
Hope, already very familiar with it, immediately explained its function.
"Where is it now?" Scott asked. If this was the final test, it definitely wouldn't be easy—he needed to know what he was walking into.
"It's currently stored in an old warehouse in northern New York," Pym said, handing him a few photos. "The warehouse belongs to Howard Stark."
"So you want me to steal from Stark?" Scott nearly lost it. "First a high-tech suit, now this? You want me to break into the most heavily secured company in the world? Are you out of your mind?!"
"It's not Stark's," Pym snapped. "It's mine. It's just being stored in one of his warehouses. What, do I need Tony Stark's permission to take back my own property now? Who does he think he is?!"
Pym had never liked the Stark family. Back then, Howard Stark had tried to take his Pym Particles by force. Now he was supposed to ask Tony Stark for permission? Absolutely not.
Left with no choice, Scott relented. The old man looked ready to kick him if he refused, so for the sake of Pym's health, Scott gritted his teeth and agreed.
---
"Don't you think this is a bit extreme?" Scott muttered.
He was wearing the Ant-Man suit, standing inside a narrow crevice. Behind him was a swarm of flying ants—his personal mount, the one he'd named Antony, among them.
They were thousands of meters in the air, clinging to the side of an airplane.
"You're above the target, Scott. Prepare to deploy," Pym said, ignoring the complaint.
"Alright… teams, get ready. Move out!"
At Scott's command, the flying ants poured out of the plane in an orderly formation. Just as Pym had said—a commander made all the difference.
Scott climbed onto Antony.
"Easy this time, Antony. Don't drop me again."
He patted the ant's head before leaping off.
Buffeted by violent air currents, Scott and Antony spun wildly until they descended to a lower altitude and regained control.
Insects didn't usually fly very high—being so small, even slight turbulence could throw them off balance.
"Stay calm, Scott. You'll see the target soon," Pym said, watching through the feed in his basement lab.
"Hank, you said this was just an old warehouse! This is not a warehouse—you old liar!"
Scott's eyes widened in shock.
Below the clouds was not some abandoned facility.
It was a brand-new complex.
On both the landing pad and the rooftop was a large "A" encircled by a ring—the unmistakable symbol of the Avengers.
This was one of the Avengers' bases.
---
"Scott, you need to get out of there. Mission aborted!" Hope shouted immediately.
If this were just a warehouse, no matter how tight the security, Scott might still pull it off.
But this was an Avengers facility.
If they decided to track down an intruder, he wouldn't stand a chance.
"Abort the mission now!" Pym added firmly.
He wasn't reckless enough to push forward after seeing that symbol.
"I don't think that's necessary," Scott said after looking around. "I don't see anyone. Place looks empty."
After a moment, he guided Antony down onto the rooftop.
"He's going to lose my suit," Pym muttered anxiously.
"He's going to lose his life!" Hope snapped. "And you're worried about the suit?!"
---
Scott had just landed when a sudden gust of wind swept across the rooftop.
Through the ants' camera feed, a massive shadow passed overhead.
"Scott, something's coming!" Hope warned.
A figure descended from the sky.
Metal wings spread wide, clad in a sleek black suit with red wing markings across the chest—
Falcon. Sam Wilson.
"What's the situation up there, Sam?" came a voice through his comms—Clint Barton, Hawkeye.
"Whoa… it's Falcon himself," Scott whispered in awe, staring up at him like a giant.
"A sensor was triggered," Sam said, scanning the area. "But I'm not seeing anything."
"Wait."
His visor suddenly locked onto a target.
"Scott, get out now! Immediately!" Hope and Pym shouted in panic.
But Scott remained relaxed.
"It's fine. He can't see me."
He sounded completely confident.
Unfortunately—he was already being tracked.
"No," Sam said calmly. "I can see you just fine."
Scott nearly jumped out of his skin.
In a panic, he reverted to full size.
"Hi! I'm Scott!"
He opened his helmet, revealing a very awkward grin.
"Scott," Sam said, eyeing him carefully. "What are you doing here?"
Scott raised his hands.
"First of all—I'm a big fan."
"Appreciate it," Sam replied flatly. "Now who are you?"
Anyone who could sneak alone into an Avengers facility was either a spy… or something worse.
"I'm Ant-Man," Scott said, striking a pose.
"Ant-Man?" Sam chuckled, clearly amused by the name.
"Alright, Ant-Man… what exactly are you doing here?"
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