– Texas, America - 7:40 AM –

Jack Barton, the Stand user of 'Ride Me to Hell' stood outside the door to a ward room within the hospital. With a steadying breath, he turned the knob and entered, his gaze falling upon a woman, likely in her thirties, adorned in a verdant hospital gown. Her dark brown hair was neatly tied in a bun, framing emerald eyes that flickered with vitality against her pallid complexion. An oxygen mask clung to her mouth, a silent companion in her struggle for breath.

"Martha?"

At the sound of her name, Martha turned her attention to the doorway, where Jack stood.

"Darling, you're back," she greeted him, her voice carrying the cadence of Southern America.

Jack settled into a chair beside her bed. "How y'all feelin'?"

"I'm fine just you know," Martha replied, her words punctuated by labored breaths. "Just a bit of trouble with my breathing from time to time, but I ain't going down that easily."

A smile tugged at Jack's lips, "Well I did marry one hell of a wife who doesn't want to go down that easily."

Their laughter mingled briefly before Jack inquired, "Is Jake around?"

Martha sighed softly, her voice tinged with concern. "No, but when he does show up, he seems exhausted every time from work."

"He's our son, Martha. Despite my warnings about the strain, he insists on it... all for you, to see you get better," Jack reassured her, his Southern drawl carrying warmth. "We both want to see you get better, Martha. Because we're family."

As if on cue, the door creaked open, revealing a young man of nineteen. Clad in a red short-sleeved shirt and light blue pants, he bore a striking resemblance to his parents with his dark brown hair and deep orange eyes.

"Dad, you're back," Jake greeted, his own Southern accent mirroring his father's.

Jake strode over, enveloping his father in a tight hug, reciprocated warmly by Jack. Martha's smile widened at the sight, a silent affirmation of their unbreakable bond.

"Forgetting someone?" Martha's gentle voice interjected, drawing attention to her presence.

Jack and Jake released each other from their embrace, and Jake turned to his mother, wrapping her in a loving hug, which she reciprocated warmly. After a brief moment, they separated.

"I'm glad to see both of you here. It really warms my heart," Martha expressed, her eyes shimmering with gratitude. "So, Jake, how's work treating you?"

"It's going well, Mom. The pay isn't much, but I'm putting in the effort to get money. But... I hate seeing you like this every time I visit."

Martha offered a tender smile. "Jake, I appreciate your determination to help, but I need you to take things slowly rather than quickly. Seeing you exhausted, it worries me."."

"Your mother's right, son. Take a step back from work for now," Jack advised, his tone firm yet caring. "And as for the finances, leave that to me. Talk to your boss, ask for a few days off."

Jake sighed, a mixture of reluctance and understanding evident in his expression. "Okay, Dad."

Jack smiled, offering a reassuring pat on Jake's back, before the trio resumed their familial conversation. Their moment was interrupted only by the ringing of Jack's phone.

"Hold on. I need to take this," Jack excused himself, leaving his family's conversation momentarily as he made his way to the door. Stepping outside, he answered the call.

[Bonjour, Jack. How's your family doing?]

"They're... doing well. But seriously though why are you calling me now?"

[It appears the Foundation has brought more Human Stands to Site-19, as per Alvin's report.]

"And?"

[Just keeping you informed. Meet me at the warehouse at 9:00 AM. We'll review the plan one last time.]

Jack glanced back at his family, their laughter and chatter filling the room. A soft smile graced his lips before he returned his focus to the conversation.

"Can we even trust your client, Spy?"

[For now, you have to. But if things do go south with our client even after we give him the target and the Arrow, then we eliminate our client and steal the money, simple as that. And I'm telling you this from experience.]

"So that's your only back-up plan if things go downhill?" Jack queried.

[Yes, mon ami.]

"Alright, I'll meet you at the warehouse then."

As the call ended, Jack rejoined his family and made his announcement.

"I gotta go. Duty calls."

His wife's concern was palpable, "When will you be back?" His wife asked.

"Depends how long the boss will keep me working. But don't worry, I'll be back. I promise." Jack reassured her, planting a tender kiss on her forehead. He turned to his son. "Take care of your mother."

"I will," Jake affirmed.

With a gentle pat on his son's head, Jack exited the room. As he walked down the hallway, his thoughts echoed with determination.

'Just need to execute this flawlessly and secure the money. I know I'm taking the wrong path, but what choice do I have? I just want to see her back in good shape again, and.... not lose her. I just can't. Family is everything. And I'm ready to go down this road.'

A heavy sigh escaped Jack's lips as he approached the elevator. Stepping inside, he pressed the button, and as the elevator began its descent, Jack steeled himself for the task ahead.

———————————————————————

– Cafeteria, Site-19 - 8:00 AM –

The Stand group were in the cafeteria, exchanging conversation as they occupied seats around a table.  Jeff remained mostly silent, still having the whole 'Can't trust them' thing. Meanwhile, the yellow bulbs on Krieg's fists had been removed by Foundation scientists and were taken for testing, so pretty much they didn't have to worry about the virus.

"Wait, wait. Your bulbs grow back every five hours?" Miguel inquired, curiosity evident in his tone.

"Yeah. After I lost one of my bulbs back at...  Germany, it grew back very slowly. Five hours later it was there again." Sane Krieg explained.

"Well, at least we're safe for the next five hours." Rodeo remarked.

(A/n: Okay, just to be clear since Purple Haze showed up once only in JoJo and there's not too much info regarding him, sooo the whole bulbs growing back after five hours is my idea, just to make it fair and simple for my story.) 

"I do want to ask you something, Krieg. How did you get the Stand helmet?" Evan interjected, curiosity piqued.

"We were just walking around Pandora, scavenging for loot and taking on jobs for the crimson raiders as usual. Then we came across a bandit lord and pretty much cut his head off and blasted his entire gang to oblivion," Krieg recounted, his tone matter-of-fact, "As we were rummaging through his stash, we found the helmet. We were going to use it for target practice, but when we disturbed it, a purple gas came out of it and swallowed us. The next thing we knew, we were in Germany. At least that's what Carson said where we were."

"WE ARE STILL FAR FROM MAYHEM!" Psycho Krieg interjected emphatically.

"Yeah, we're pretty far from home," Sane Kreig acknowledged.

"We're all far from home," Michelle chimed in.

"Si," Miguel affirmed in Spanish.

"...But you can still consider this place as home," Rodeo suggested optimistically.

"You call this place home?" Jeff questioned, a frown creasing his brow.

"For now, at least," Rodeo clarified.

"Look, this is the Foundation. They don't give jack shit about us. To them, we're just freaks," Jeff asserted.

"Not all of them, Jeff," Rodeo countered gently.

"I've read the SCP articles, Rodeo. Some of the people here aren't nice," Jeff retorted, his skepticism apparent.

"True. But like I said, not everyone sees us that way," Rodeo persisted.

"Whatever," Jeff scoffed dismissively.

Ignoring the blue head, Rodeo turned his attention to the rest of the group. "Since Krieg shared his tale, why don't the rest of you share how you ended up here?"

Michelle nodded in agreement. "Sure."

After detailed explanations from Michelle, Miguel, and Jeff, Rodeo thinks of the things they said.

"So, Miguel, you got sucked into a black hole. Michelle, you got pulled into a flower pot along with your cat, Lizzie. And Jeff, a zipper mysteriously opened in your room and pulled you in."

"Yes," they all confirmed.

"Hey, Michelle, do you think your cat might be somewhere in this world since you both got pulled into the flower pot?" Evan inquired.

"I hope so. I just pray she's safe," Michelle replied, a hint of sadness in her voice as she glanced down.

"Don't worry, Michelle. We'll find her soon enough," Rodeo reassured her.

"Thanks, Rodeo."

"You're welcome."

Looking up at Rodeo, Michelle's gaze drifted to his ears, and a shy and polite request formed on her lips.

"Can I... pet your ears, Rodeo? If you don't mind though," she asked, her voice soft with hesitation.

Evan overheard her request, as did some nearby female researchers, D-class personnel, and SCP guards guarding and seated at a table not far from the group.

"""""As if he's gonna allow..."""""

"Okay."

"""""NANIIIIIIIII?!!!!!"""""

With Rodeo's consent, Michelle gently began petting his ears, to which he offered no resistance.

"Even though they're just triangles on your head, they look cute on you," Michelle complimented in a warm tone.

"Thanks... I guess," Rodeo replied awkwardly.

Bam!

Suddenly, a loud bang echoed through the room as Evan's face slammed on the table with anime tears streaming down his cheeks and purple anime clouds swirling above his head. Carlos attempted to comfort him with a comforting pat on the back. The female researchers, D-class personnel, and SCP guards, however, had jealousy and anger written all over their faces.

"He has a kind heart," Miguel remarked.

"Yes, he does," Jeff concurred.

"Oh! So you're agreeing with me, amigo?" Miguel teased.

"Maybe... still, I don't trust the guys we're working with," Jeff admitted.

"Believe me, amigo. Even I doubt the Foundation a little bit. The darker side of it, at least. Not the good side. If you know what I mean." Miguel explained.

"I know," Jeff replied solemnly.

"Hey guys, I was thinking that maybe we could request the Foundation to make a very large room for all of us to stay in," Michelle suggested to the group.

"That's actually not a bad idea," Rodeo agreed.

Evan's head perked up, and he was back to his normal face. "Well, it's better than being in a cell meant for prisoners with only a single damn bed," he added with a nod of agreement.

"All in favor of a new and very big room for all of us to stay in, say aye!"

"Aye!"

"Aye!"

Carlos growled in approval.

"Aye!"

"Jeff and Krieg?"

Jeff sighed, "Aye, captain."

"What he said."

"Then it's settled. Big room for all of us!"

"""YEAH!!!""" 

Green, who stood by the cafeteria's door, watched the group with a smile, pleased to see them enjoying themselves. Not wanting to disturb them, he quietly leaves the cafeteria.

———————————————————————

– Testing Chamber, Site-19 - 8:10 AM –

Inside a testing chamber, a rat was placed next to one of the yellow bulbs that contained the flesh eating virus. Amelia and Molly, both clad in hazmat suits, observed intently. With a small hammer in hand, Amelia shattered the bulb, releasing the virus. Almost instantly, the rat began to decompose from the inside, succumbing to the lethal effects within seconds.

"Oh my god," Molly murmured, her expression tinged with horror as she witnessed the rapid demise of the rodent.

"To think it's that lethal," Amelia remarked, watching as the purple smoke dissipated. "But thankfully, it doesn't last long in sunlight or indoor lighting, as Carson mentioned."

"Yeah, it's fortunate we removed the bulbs from Krieg before allowing him to accompany Rodeo," Molly acknowledged.

"...Yes," Amelia agreed solemnly.

After they finished with their experiments, Amelia and Molly left the testing chamber and removed their hazmat suits.

"I met Dr. Arnold in the dream world." Molly revealed.

"Really? Did you speak with him?" Amelia inquired.

"Yeah, and I also found Lawrence there," Molly confirmed.

"Is that so?" 

Molly nodded, beginning to explain her experience.

"So, basically, Dr. Arnold was unable to awaken people in comas, and Lawrence has been assisting him in his research. You even informed Dr. Arnold about the current problems we are having right now."

"Yes," Molly acknowledged.

"You did the right thing by informing him, Molly. Given that Dr. Arnold is trapped in the dream world, he's unable to do anything. It's surprising to hear that he's keeping Lawrence company," Amelia remarked thoughtfully.

"You'd be surprised to hear about some of the situations they've found themselves in. Some of them are downright hilarious, but I'm pretty sure you're not interested in that kind of stuff," Molly commented.

"Well, the Foundation wants to keep tabs on Dr. Arnold's activities and behavior at all times, so I might as well hear what you have to say," Amelia replied.

"Come on then. I'll explain it on the way," Molly suggested.

Approaching one of the guards stationed nearby, Amelia instructed him to dispatch a cleanup crew for the testing chamber. The guard nodded in acknowledgment before Amelia and Molly made their way down the hallway. As they walked, Molly regaled Amelia with tales of Dr. Arnold's and Lawrence's wild encounters in the dream world.

———————————————————————

– Storage Containment Locker Room, Site-19 - 8:56 AM –

In the storage containment locker room, Carson was wearing his usual helmet and MTF uniform. 

Currently, he found himself drawn to Krieg's buzzsaw-axe, its menacing presence beckoning him. Even though he was told to put it in the locker straight away, but Carson being Carson just took his time as he began to swing the weapon experimentally left and right, relishing the weight and balance in his hands.

"What are you doing?"

Carson got spooked and dropped the axe to the floor. Whirling around, he was met with the sight of Miguel.

"Jesus, man, don't scare me like that. I've already had enough heart attacks from SCPs jumping out of nowhere trying to kill me," Carson exclaimed.

"Sorry about my sudden appearance. But seriously, what are you doing... with Krieg's weapon?" Miguel inquired.

"Oh, this? Just taking a few practice swings, that's all," Carson replied casually, though a hint of sheepishness lingered in his tone.

"Have you ever played Borderlands?" Miguel asked.

"Nope," Carson replied.

"Then you'll be surprised to know that this weapon has drowned itself in the blood of multiple mega corporation soldiers, bots, alien wildlife, psychopathic people and much more," Miguel explained.

Carson looked at the axe, a sense of unease creeping over him. Slowly, he placed it inside a locker and secured it with his key card.

"I regret holding it now," Carson admitted.

"Believe me, amigo. The world of Borderlands can be dark, crazy, and sometimes comedic as well," Miguel remarked.

"...Why are you here again?" Carson questioned.

"Just exploring the site while traveling through the shadows," Miguel replied casually.

"Must be easy for you to travel then since shadows can pop up anywhere," Carson observed.

"Yeah. Carson, I want to ask you something," Miguel said, his tone turning serious.

"And what would that be?" Carson inquired.

"You've saved people from SCPs, right?" Miguel began.

"Of course," Carson confirmed.

"Then have you ever... killed innocent people just to make sure that the Foundation's secrets stay hidden?" Miguel asked, his voice heavy with gravity.

Carson didn't say a word as he stood there silently. Even with his helmet on, Miguel didn't need to look at his face for an answer, because he already got it from his lack of response that spoke volumes to him. 

"I'll take your silence as a yes," Miguel stated solemnly.

"...Why are you asking me this?" Carson finally spoke, his voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.

"Because I want to protect those people... from the monsters that hunt them in the shadows. I know your Foundation wants to safeguard humanity, but I also know they're willing to go down to certain levels to achieve that. And you know exactly which levels I'm referring to, Carson," Miguel explained.

"The inhumane levels," Carson acknowledged grimly.

"Yes, those levels are something I'm not prepared to go down for the Foundation," Miguel affirmed.

"If you know the Foundation can be morally compromised at times, why are you here?" Carson pressed.

"Because some of you still prioritize protecting the innocent rather than sacrificing them. Not everyone within the Foundation is corrupt, and that's why I'm here instead of hiding in the shadows of some city," Miguel responded, his conviction unwavering.

"...True. You know, I even doubt the Foundation sometimes. Sometimes I feel like we're just lab rats to them, sent to our deaths in the name of science. But I never stopped doing my job, no matter how I viewed the Foundation. Because at the end of the day, I'm a good and honest guy, even though I may have left Lawrence stranded on a certain iceberg once," Carson admitted.

"What?" Miguel exclaimed in surprise.

"Buuut I saved his life from SCP-966 and got even with him," Carson added quickly.

"Well... that's good to hear," 

"So, want to chat while we head to the breakroom?" Carson suggested.

"Sure, amigo," Miguel agreed.

With that, they both exited the room, leaving their conversation behind them.

———————————————————————

– Abandoned Warehouse, Somewhere in America - 9:00 AM –

The Spy, now transformed into Silver Chariot, along with Alvin Parsh, who had become Red Hot Chilli Pepper, Jack Barton, the Stand user of Ride Me to Hell, and Albert Winchester, the user of Faded, were all gathered at the warehouse. Alongside them were the humanoid entity trapped within a glass shard and a young African recruit, forming a formidable assembly.

"Gentlemen, today marks the execution of our plan," Spy began in a commanding tone. "Our primary objective: to capture Dr. Amelia Buck. After using psychological warfare with the help of Alvin and Jack, Dr. Buck's defenses are weakened, allowing us to exploit this vulnerability. She will be lured to a location far from Site-19 with a man known as Green, whom we suspect to be a Foundation agent."

Spy paused, emphasizing his next point as he placed the Stand arrow on the table, his gaze fixed upon it. "First, we incapacitate Green, capture Dr. Buck, and deliver her, along with this," he indicated the arrow, "to our client. Once the transaction is complete, we will receive our payment."

"Let's hope your damn plan pans out. Otherwise these many days of preparation will all go to waste," Albert remarked, his skepticism evident.

"Like I said before, it will work, mon ami. We just need to be smart and precise with our plan. Upon receiving our payment, we go our separate ways and go into hiding and disappear. But if our client tries to pull a stunt on us, we kill him and steal the money." Spy affirmed resolutely.

"That's quite the back up plan you got." Alvin remarked.

"It's the only one I have if things go awry, and I expect each of you to stand by me until the very end," Spy replied firmly.

With unanimous agreement from the group, Spy continued, "Furthermore, we will be bringing the Arrow with us on the mission. I have two reasons for this. Firstly, it allows us to deliver both Dr. Buck and the Arrow at the same time to our client rather than giving them one at a time. Secondly, leaving the Arrow behind poses a risk; if our client breaches our contract, not only will we go unpaid, but he may also steal the Arrow for himself."

Understanding the rationale behind Spy's reasoning, the five members nodded in agreement. Albert then posed a question, "And what makes you cautious enough to make these many measures?"

"Because during my infiltrations into one of the bases of the Global Occult Coalition, I stumbled upon a piece of information that might be related to our client," Spy revealed.

"And that is?" Albert inquired with interest.

"I'm not entirely sure. Most of the details were heavily redacted, but I distinctly recall a mention of something called..."

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"Chaos."