The Foundation detected the incursion three minutes after it happened.
Three minutes.
For most organizations, that would have been impressive.
For us, it was slow.
A crimson alert flashed across Site-01's thaumaturgical monitoring network as magical sensors spread across Earth detected an immense infernal disturbance somewhere in the American Southwest.
The anomaly wasn't subtle.
Hell rarely was.
Deep beneath Site-01, entire banks of magical supercomputers came alive. Ancient runes carved by Foundation mages centuries ago illuminated alongside cutting-edge scanners powered by Infinity Reactors.
Within seconds, a profile appeared.
Unknown Infernal Entity.
Threat Level: Extreme.
Classification: Demonic Incursion.
And then another.
And another.
And another.
Four signatures.
One significantly stronger than the others.
At Site-01, Julius studied the reports.
The shadowy figure sat alone inside a briefing chamber while dozens of intelligence files floated across holographic displays.
Blackheart.
The son of Mephisto.
Three lesser demons.
A hunt for something called the Contract of San Venganza.
Julius frowned.
That last part wasn't important.
The first part was.
A devil had entered Earth.
That was very much the Foundation's business.
"Commander Wolffe."
The door opened instantly.
"Sir."
The massive Alpha-level mutant stepped inside.
Julius slid the file across the table.
"Mission briefing."
Wolffe skimmed the documents.
His expression immediately darkened.
"Demonic entities?"
"Correct."
"Containment?"
Julius shook his head.
"No."
That got Wolffe's attention.
The Red Right Hand specialized in containment.
When Julius said no, that usually meant something worse.
"Extermination?"
Julius smiled.
"Now you're thinking like Foundation personnel."
Thirty minutes later.
A Foundation stealth transport descended toward Arizona.
Inside sat the Wolfpack.
The Red Right Hand assigned directly to O5-2.
Every member was a monster by ordinary standards.
Super-soldier serum.
Mutant enhancements.
Anomalous equipment.
Decades of training.
And led by perhaps the most dangerous field commander in Foundation history.
Commander Wolffe.
"Weapons check."
The soldiers immediately complied.
Shadow-forged rifles.
Anti-occult ammunition.
Thaumaturgic suppression grenades.
Reality-anchor projectors.
Equipment designed specifically to kill things humanity wasn't supposed to know existed.
Wolffe looked toward Sergeant Sinker.
"Status?"
"Ready."
The man flexed his fingers.
A regeneration factor superior to Wolverine's meant he rarely worried about injuries.
"Comet?"
The young operative grinned.
Electricity crackled briefly between his fingertips.
"Ready."
"Warthog?"
The giant operative touched a piece of vibranium.
Immediately his skin transformed into metallic silver.
"Ready."
Satisfied, Wolffe nodded.
The transport landed.
The moment the rear ramp opened, they felt it.
Infernal energy.
Ancient.
Malicious.
Hungry.
"Contacts," Comet said.
"Multiple."
A ruined ghost town stretched before them.
San Venganza.
The epicenter.
Unfortunately, they weren't the first to arrive.
A motorcycle made of hellfire roared across the desert.
A flaming skeleton rode it.
Chains dragged behind him.
The Spirit of Vengeance.
Ghost Rider.
The Wolfpack stopped.
Ghost Rider stopped.
For several seconds nobody moved.
Comet finally broke the silence.
"What the hell is that?"
"Technically?" Sinker replied.
"Probably exactly that."
Ghost Rider slowly turned his flaming skull toward them.
Wolffe stepped forward.
Neither side looked remotely intimidated.
"I am Commander Wolffe of the SCP Foundation."
Ghost Rider stared.
"We are here to stop Blackheart."
More staring.
"We are not hostile."
Ghost Rider pointed at the rifles.
"Fair."
Wolffe admitted.
Several moments passed.
Then Ghost Rider looked toward the town.
Infernal energy surged.
Blackheart had arrived.
The ground cracked.
Darkness spread.
Three lesser demons emerged beside him.
Abigor.
Gressil.
Wallow.
And behind them stood Blackheart himself.
"Oh."
Blackheart smiled.
"There are more of you than expected."
Wolffe immediately activated his powers.
Dozens of shadow wolves erupted from the ground.
The creatures charged forward.
Battle began instantly.
Comet unleashed a concentrated blast of electrical plasma.
Gressil dodged.
Barely.
The explosion vaporized half a building.
Sinker sprinted directly into combat.
A demon smashed him through three walls.
Seconds later he walked back out completely unharmed.
Warthog transformed his entire body into vibranium and tackled Wallow through a stone structure.
The impact shook the town.
Ghost Rider charged Blackheart.
Hellfire exploded.
And then golden ripples appeared behind the battlefield.
Blackheart's smile vanished.
Julius had arrived.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Of golden portals opened behind him.
The Gate of Babylon.
Every demon on the battlefield froze.
Because every instinct they possessed screamed danger.
"Interesting."
Julius observed calmly.
"Demons."
The sky turned gold.
Weapons emerged.
Legendary swords.
Spears.
Axes.
Treasures beyond counting.
Blackheart took one look at the endless sea of Noble Phantasms aimed directly at him.
And for perhaps the first time in his existence—
looked genuinely concerned.
"You know," Julius said thoughtfully.
"I was having a very pleasant evening."
Golden light illuminated the entire desert.
"And then Hell invaded my planet."
Thousands of weapons fired simultaneously.
Blackheart learned why the SCP Foundation was feared.