Chapter Text
“What do you know of Pandora’s box?”
“Ma’am?”
“The tale of Pandora’s box is one of the oldest known to humanity, coming from ancient Greek mythology. I am not a religious woman, but I enjoyed his story when I was young.”
“I know of the music app.”
“The story goes that long ago, the titan Prometheus stole the fire of the gods to give to mankind, whom he had a soft spot for. As punishment, the king of the gods, Zeus, ordered Hephaestus to create the first woman: Pandora. The gods granted her all manners of gifts and blessings before sending her to earth. Prometheus’ brother, Epimetheus, instantly fell in love with her and took her as his bride. Zeus himself presented the couple with a wedding gift; in the original stories it was a pithos, a jar, though it later was translated into a box. But whatever it was, he gave it to them with the warning to never open it.
“What neither knew is that in her creation, Zeus had gifted Pandora with curiosity. And even with the warning, Pandora’s curiosity grew until she eventually opened the gift. In just a moment, all of the evils of the world were released upon humanity. Jealousy, disease, sorrow, death, and many more. She closed the box, leaving only one thing inside: hope. Hope remained, with humanity to decide whether that was a blessing or their greatest curse.”
“And you were told this as a kid?”
Eva Stratt studied the room in front of her, not looking at the man to her side. The room was composed of countless boxes and tubes, each with its own unique creature within. Some scurried along the walls in a panic, others sat still in the corners. Scientists sat at their desks or discussed their experiments in low voices, even though every bit of information in this room would eventually make it back to her.
Stratt reached her fingers into one of the containers, scooping out a large spider with ‘06’ drawn across its abdomen. The arachnid pranced across her palm before settling just above her wrist, unsure what to do with the world it was now exposed to. The man took a small step back but kept his face calm.
“A new batch of data is supposed to be coming in from the Alchemax facility,” he said to break the silence. “Apparently they’ve made some advancements in their studies. One of the experiments was stable for almost a full day before it succumbed.”
“That’s good. And what of the specimen?”
“Physically, everything is stable. Mentally, it’s difficult to tell. I went in there to grab something, and what I say-”
“Vital signs are stable.”
The man grimaced. “Yes, but I would consider-”
“That’s what matters.” The spider jumped off of Stratt, landing back in its box and scurrying into its webs. Stratt’s voice was sharp as a knife but she took a small breath, calming herself. “We can provide some comforts, but there are no guarantees.”
“I’ll have the scientists see what they can do.”
“We are tampering with forces beyond anything our world has seen before,” she said. “At some point, we may become too curious and release the unknown. We must be prepared.”
“From my understanding, that won’t be anytime soon.”
Eight beady eyes peered through the glass, fixed on the woman. “No, it won’t.”
“Who knows what evolution is?”
As usual, Rekha’s hand was first in the air, but Grace chose to point at Jackson in the back of the class.
“It’s organisms changing to fit their environment in order to survive,” the student said.
“That’s correct!” He clicked a few slides forward, showcasing different animals and creatures. “Birds developed long beaks to better get at the bugs hidden deep within trees. Pinecones learned to close up their scales when it’s dry and open when it’s humid, so the seeds they release have a better chance of sprouting. And, my personal favorite…”
He drummed on the desk, then held up his own hands.
“Thumbs! These little things made us homosapiens the number one creature in the world! Us primates are able to grab things better than any other creature, so we learned how to make tools, fire, and civilization. What are some things you can do with a thumb?”
Half a dozen hands shot in the air.
“Give a thumbs up!”
“Give a thumbs down!”
“Win a thumb war!”
“Finger guns!”
“All very good answers,” Grace said once they'd tired out their responses. “But there are some downsides. The rest of our digits on our hands and feet didn’t evolve to be as powerful as our primate cousins, so we’re not able to do things like climb trees as easily as they can. However, they didn’t evolve to be like us, and so they don't get to experience the joys of the internet.”
The class laughed.
“Don’t get me wrong, evolution is not over, no, no, no. Organisms on this planet are still evolving as we speak. It's just going to take a long, long time before we see any changes. Maybe in a few million years we’ll still be the number one species but we’ll be able to climb vines as easily as a chimp.”
“What about the bombs?” Elliot asked from the third row. “The nuclear ones? Don't they make people turn into monsters with three heads and extra arms?”
“That is a fantastic question. Radiation has been reported to affect genetics, but again that's after long-term exposure. If I got exposed to a nuclear bomb, I wouldn't pop an extra eyeball overnight.”
Grace glanced up at the clock and clapped his hands. “Let's wrap up! I want you all to read chapters 4 and 5 tonight with a one-page report due on Monday.”
There were a few grumbles.
“Quick field trip reminder: closed-toed shoes are required to go and crocs do not count! And if you're not going to buy lunch, please remember to pack one!”
The students excitedly chatted about the upcoming adventure as they filed out of the classroom. Grace shuffled up the homework he’d grade over the weekend, still buzzing from the successful lesson.
“Hey little bro.”
A man was leaning on the bike rack, shades slightly down his nose and leather jacket tossed unceremoniously over the motorcycle parked nearby.
“Hey Colt,” Grace said, barely looking up from his phone. “Can I help you?”
“No more than usual. You still coming tonight?”
It took Grace a moment to remember what his twin brother meant. “You know I am. As long as you're not trying to set me up again.”
Colt scoffed, watching Grace unlock his bike. “After the first three said you were too polite for your own good? I'll save blind dates for only the most special of occasions."
“Uh-huh, and dinner with your wife at a fancy restaurant that happens to coincide with the securing of a new contract is not a special occasion?”
“Nope,” Colt said, popping the last syllable.
“Good. Are you going to come with me all the way home and then with me to dinner?”
“Yup.”
“You're impossible.”
“Love you too.”
“Are you going to get anything of substance?” Colt asked, snacking on some jerky he had stashed in his pocket. True to his word, Colt stayed with Grace even when he made an unplanned detour to the store.
“Ramen’s cheap,” Grace tossed a few bulk packs of the stuff into the cart. “Easy to make, easy to eat, easy to dispose of.”
“You can make sandwiches just as easily. That stuff will kill your liver.”
Grace spluttered and snatched the jerky out of Colt's hand. “There’s over 500 milligrams of sodium! There shouldn't be 500 milligrams of anything in your food!”
Colt grabbed the snack and took a hearty bite of it. “At least there’s protein.”
Grace rolled his eyes, moving on to the next aisle. “If it makes you feel better, I switch it up with burritos or burgers. And I'll get a salad tonight.”
“You're not getting a salad at a sushi place.”
“I don’t get what you want, man.”
“I want my little brother to outlive me, and you eating all that junk is only going to break my heart.”
“Boo-hoo.”
Colt was kind enough to lend some assistance putting the groceries away before flopping onto the couch, a box of peanut M&M's in one hand and yet another slice of jerky in the other.
“If you're gonna loiter, you could at least help me grade,” Grace said, carefully laying the papers on the counter and starting to organize the homework in front of him.
“Not a smarty pants like you. Besides, don’t they have machines that do that now?”
“I prefer the old-fashioned way. I've got the answer guide right here. All you gotta do is check to see if they circled the right answer.”
Colt groaned but grabbed a stack of papers and a red pen. The brothers graded in silence, with Colt occasionally asking a question about the tests.
“These kids are smart,” he said, putting aside a barely marked test.
“I got really lucky,” Grace said.
Once they finished grading, they collapsed on the couch to pass away the afternoon. Grace turned on some mindless TV show that neither were paying attention to. Some old show about a woman finding out her true identity while dealing with the many lovers in her life.
“You need more furniture,” Colt said, gesturing around the room.
“I really don't. It's just me, so why would I need anything more than what I've got?”
The furniture in question was a single bar stool at the counter, a couch, a coffee table, a TV with its stand, and a bed in the other room. The walls were sparsely decorated; some pictures of him and his family hung haphazardly, but they were few and far between. A few boxes were shoved into the corners, still unpacked and being used as displays for some of Grace’s trinkets.
The most colorful area was the wall across from the couch. A large whiteboard covered in sticky notes and different reminders written in dry-erase marker ink took up most of the space. Around it were framed photos of all of his previous classes, which themselves were surrounded in countless drawings, letters, and notes from his many students, each one laminated and hung with care.
“Ry, you don't even have an extra chair. Where are you going to sit?”
“What do you think the couch is for?”
Colt hit his brother's arm. “Damn it, I'm serious. You've been living by yourself for almost a year and you haven’t even given having a roommate a chance. Hell, you don’t even own any holiday decorations!”
“Cause I always spend the holidays at your place. Why would I spend money on something I'm not going to see?”
“Ryland!”
“Colt!”
The brothers glared at each other with identical scowls. But when Grace sighed and collapsed back into the couch, Colt didn't continue the conversation. The two had been through this dance before, and it always ended like this.
“I got a car to take us to the restaurant. Jody'll meet us there,” he said after a few minutes of silence. “Please tell me you’ve got something better to wear than that.”
Grace looked down at his outfit. Suit jacket, tie, his classic white Converse. Sure, it was a little wrinkly, but it was school-approved and wasn’t one of his lounging shirts.
“And you're going in that?” Grace gestured to Colt, who wore jeans, a stained t-shirt and a leather jacket.
“Jody's bringing me a change of clothes. You on the other hand… let’s go raid your closet for the least wrinkled thing you’ve got.”
Jody gave Grace a peck on the cheek when they got to the restaurant. “Good to see you again, darling. The drive wasn’t too bumpy, was it?”
“No, it was fine. Took a wrong turn out of the city, but we got here in one piece.”
“He almost barfed in the glove compartment,” Colt said, kissing his wife.
Jody smacked him lightly on the chest. “Hush, now. We were supposed to meet someone there, but she had to cancel. Something about an important meeting with her boss.”
Grace smacked his brother’s arm.
“Why is everyone hitting me today?!” Colt complained, though he kept an innocent look on his face.
“You stinking liar.”
“Stinking? No. Liar? Maybe a little.”
“He told me you weren't setting me up tonight,” Grace explained when Jody gave him a confused eyebrow raise.
“Ah, no, we definitely were,” Jody said. “Good lady, nice job. Met her while doing a shoot in Toronto. She might have been a bit too boring for you though.”
A cool breeze washed over them when they got to their table. It had been set for four, but the waiter took the extra plate away once they had ordered their drinks. Their table was on the balcony with a gorgeous view overlooking the bay. The sun had just set below the horizon, and the city skyline was beginning to come to life, tourists and locals alike filtering out to enjoy their weekend.
“How in the world did you get a reservation at a place like this?” Grace asked a little while later, swirling his wine slowly.
“Being famous does have its perks,” Colt said.
“Speaking of which, Jody, some of my kids wanted me to let you know that your science in Roots to Riches was pretty awful and that you need to consult me next time.”
“They’re middle schoolers! Why in the world are they worried about whether the science in a science fiction movie is accurate?” Jody exclaimed.
“It’s ‘cause they have him as a teacher. Stick up his ass about the science of movies since day one.”
“Hey, Star Trek’s whole schtick is that it’s supposed to be based on theoretical science. If they decide to fudge around with things once in a while, that’s fine. But some of the things in that show were definitely not possible!”
Jody laughed. “We’ll be going over the final script for an upcoming one sometime in the next month, so I’ll keep you on speed dial.” Her eyes flashed suddenly. “Oh! Colt, did you ask him yet?”
“Ask me what?”
Colt leaned forward, poking his chopsticks at some leftover wasabi. “I know it’s short notice, and I know you don’t normally enjoy the behind-the-scenes of my films–”
“Forgive me if I don’t enjoy seeing my brother do death-defying stunts.”
“-but tomorrow we’re just going to be scouting out a potential shooting location. We’ll be heading to an old Alchemax site.”
Grace’s jaw dropped. “How in the world did you get permission from S.H.I.E.L.D. to use an old Alchemax site for a film shoot?”
Jody shrugged nonchalantly. “I have my ways. It’s not a guarantee that we’ll be using it; our PR department warned about the potential backlash of using the site, but Colt thought you might want to tag along for the scout.”
“Are you serious? I’d love to!”
“I don't know, the van might be too full. We may need to take back the offer.”
“Colt, I will shove you off this balcony if you don't stop talking right now.”
Jody picked up Grace early the next morning in a van filled with other members of the crew, all antsy to get started. She had set aside the passenger seat just for him.
“Go ahead and sign these before we get there,” Jody said, passing him a clipboard and a sizable stack of paperwork. “The standard NDAs plus a few security measures put in by S.H.I.E.L.D.”
“I thought this was just a set scout?” Grace asked, flipping through some of the papers. “I didn't sign up to walk through an active war zone.”
“We'll have an escort to ensure we stay within designated areas, but they just want us to be safe.”
The van drove them out of the city, through large swaths of dry, grassy land. Grace watched the hills pass by, trying to keep his stomach from rolling too much every time they hit a bump in the road. He had taken some medicine to help with the motion sickness, but it was still rough.
After what felt like hours, they exited into a practically abandoned town. A few cars and people remained, but they seemed to be on their way out, too.
“This town was built around the Alchemax building,” Jody explained. “When it all shut down, the town went extinct.”
They continued through until they reached a large chain link fence lined with barbed wire circling the perimeter, with guards stationed at the gate.
“Name and business,” one said to Jody. The other glared through Grace's window. He waved awkwardly, and the guard turned his nose up.
“Jody Banks here for a set scout.” She handed her some paperwork and a badge. The guard flipped through the first few pages and nodded.
“Your guide will meet you at the entrance.”
The gate opened, and they continued forward. Even after years of shutdown, the building was still impressive. At least a dozen stories, green-tinted windows glaring in the afternoon sun. The old Alchemax sign was falling apart, so it now read ‘Al-em-x’.
The parking lot was mostly empty besides a single car parked near the front. A man leaned against it, his forearm crutches set beside him. He wore a green jumpsuit with the legs tucked into steel-toed boots and sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He had striking green tattoos up and down his arms, some even reaching uo to his neck. His dark salt-and-pepper hair was pulled back in a bun. Despite the fact that he had been assigned by S.H.I.E.L.D., this man seemed incredibly casual.
“Mr. Avildsen, I presume,” Jody said.
“Call me Rocky,” the man said, shaking their hands. “Because S.H.I.E.L.D. still controls it, I will be giving you a tour of the facility today. Making sure you are safe and do not enter restricted areas.”
“Lead the way, Rocky,” Jody said. The group followed the man, taking pictures of certain areas and jotting down notes as they went.
“So, Rocky,” Grace said, jogging ahead to walk beside their guide, “what do you know about this place?”
“It is an old Alchemax location,” Rocky said simply.
“Yeah, I know. But what else? Come on, give me details!”
Rocky eyed him suspiciously but nodded. “Alchemax was one of many companies controlled by H.Y.D.R.A. through S.H.I.E.L.D. They would produce chemicals for farming, production, and health to be sold on an international scale. When S.H.I.E.L.D. found out and uprooted H.Y.D.R.A., many locations were shut down, but since Alchemax was already such a big part of society, it would be impossible to stop production without destroying much of the economy. This location was for testing products before distribution.”
“What kind of testing? Don’t tell me they did human experimentation here.”
“No, no, no. No human testing. Just animal experimentation. I do not know what the testing was for, but it was bad enough for S.H.I.E.L.D. to shut down.”
They turned a corner into what looked to be the central hub of the building. A dozen floors circled a dried-out fountain. The glass roof above was intact but dusty with neglect, so the light filtering in was a little dimmer. Rocky said something into his radio, and suddenly, LED lights burst on around them, illuminating the space.
“Oh, this will be perfect!” Jody said, rushing to the middle and turning around. Grace could see her mind working, imagining where all of their equipment would be going and how the scene would be planned out in accordance with the space. He looked to his brother, who had a similar dreamy look on his face, but his eyes were fixed on his director.
“Gotta love her,” Colt said under his breath as she began chatting excitedly to the other crew members.
“Sap.”
“Rocky, is there a way to access the upper levels?” Jody asked.
“Yes, but will take some time. My boss has the keys.”
“What do you think, Colt?” Jody asked, looping her arm through his and leading him around.
“I think the foundation is solid. With a little cleanup, we can definitely get some rigs in here. Definitely gonna need to hide that though.” He gestured to the large Alchemax logo hung between the fifth and sixth floors.
“Do not worry! S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to take that down anyways,” Rocky said. “We can have it done before end of week. Good riddance.”
Grace trailed away from the group, staring around at the building. Sure, H.Y.D.R.A. had been an awful organization, but Alchemax was one of the leading companies in molecular biology. He had even been offered a job there, but at the time, he had been dealing with the fallout of the UNESCO conference and didn’t want anything to do with anyone. Guess in the end it was better that he didn’t work for the organization notorious for illegal human experimentation.
His foot landed on something slick, and he stumbled. Under his feet was a pile of old papers that appeared to be some kind of entry log. They must have been scattered and left behind when S.H.I.E.L.D. raided the building. Interesting that a company as advanced as Alchemax would use paper records.
“I still have my kids use paper attendance,” he reasoned to himself. When he glanced up, he caught sight of one of the hallways. The lights down this one weren’t as bright as the ones in the hub, but he could still see that a door just down the way was slightly ajar. Curiosity burned inside him. Grace turned and saw that Colt and Jody had gone off to scout some of the other hallways, and Rocky was chatting with the set director. Before he could chicken out, he ducked into the hallway and through the door.
Inside was pitch black, so he pulled out his phone’s flashlight and crept around cautiously. The once pristine room was grimy with neglect. At least S.H.I.E.L.D. had the foresight to clean out anything that might have made the entire city a biohazard zone, but it was still a mess. Lab stations were covered in old equipment and notes. He had to step carefully over a shattered rack of test tubes and old petri dishes.
“And I thought the kids were messy.”
Grace crouched next to an old filing cabinet, his hand on top for balance, its drawers pulled open unceremoniously and emptied.
“Couldn’t have even left one thing for me to read?” He drummed his fingers on the metal (quickly wiping the dust off) and looked around. In the corner, there were a few whiteboards very similar to his own, covered in writing and drawings of every kind. He scanned it over, trying to make sense of whatever the scientists were trying to do.
“Hemostasis and collagen production… muscle enhancements… were you guys trying to make a super steroid?”
On another board were drawings of all sorts of creatures, none of which Grace recognized from his years of studies. They were eel-like, with tendrils sprouting out of every end of it, and a single gaping mouth at the front. So many notes had been written around it that it was hard to discern what they were trying to say. But his mind worked out the pieces, translating the mess into one word: monstrosity.
“What did you do…”
Something scurried across his hand, and before he could even process the sensation, blinding pain shot up his arm. He screamed, instinctively smacking at his palm.
There was a spider–!
His body was on fire–!
He stumbled out of the room, clutching his hand–
There was Rocky…
“You were not supposed to wander off!”
And Jody…
“Oh my God. Medic!”
And Colt…
“Grace, are you okay?! Ry?! Ryland!”
And nothing.