Chapitre 2: Prologue 2: A facility tour for some important guests.

The sun was just beginning to rise over Scranton, casting long shadows across the quiet streets. Inside a mid-range sedan, Michael Scott was in high spirits, humming along to the classic rock station playing on the radio. His trusty sidekick, Dwight Schrute, sat in the passenger seat, staring intently at a folded map he'd pulled from the glove compartment.

"Ah, Dwight, what a beautiful day for a road trip!" Michael said, grinning as he tapped the steering wheel in rhythm with the music. "You know, I've always said that the journey is just as important as the destination. And today, we're headed to... well, actually, where are we going?"

Dwight looked up from the map, his expression serious. "You don't know where we're going?"

Michael shrugged, glancing at the GPS mounted on the dashboard. "I just plugged in the address they gave me. The magic box will tell us where to go."

Dwight frowned, leaning over to get a better look at the screen. "This address... Michael, do you know what this is?"

Michael shook his head, more focused on adjusting the radio. "Nope! But it's probably just some kind of office building. Maybe a warehouse, who knows? It's not like they'd send us somewhere... I don't know, crazy."

Dwight's eyes narrowed as he studied the address on the GPS. "Michael, this is no ordinary office building. This is a government facility. A massive one."

Michael blinked, finally turning his attention to Dwight. "A government facility? How do you know that?"

Dwight straightened up in his seat, clearly pleased to be able to share his knowledge. "Because I, Dwight K. Schrute, know where all the hidden government facilities are. It's part of my duty as Assistant Regional Manager... and as a proud member of the Volunteer Fire Academy, the Volunteer Police Department, and, of course, through strategic bribing of the Boy Scouts of America."

Michael raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed but also a little confused. "Wait, the Boy Scouts?"

Dwight nodded earnestly. "They're surprisingly well-informed. They have maps, Michael. Maps that aren't available to the public."

Michael nodded slowly, letting the information sink in. "Okay, okay, so we're going to a government facility. No big deal, right? I mean, it's not like they're hiding aliens there or anything."

Dwight's eyes darted to the window, scanning the horizon as if expecting to see something out of the ordinary. "You'd be surprised what they're hiding, Michael. Aliens, super soldiers, top-secret weapons..."

Michael chuckled, shaking his head. "Come on, Dwight. This is probably just some... boring government paperwork place. You know, full of people in suits, shuffling papers around, drinking bad coffee. Nothing to worry about."

Dwight didn't look convinced. "Michael, you need to be prepared for anything. This could be a high-security situation. We might have to deal with armed guards, biometric scanners, possibly even retinal scans."

Michael's grin widened. "Retinal scans? Like in Total Recall? You think they'd laugh if I said, 'I'll be back!' in my Schwarzenegger impression?"

Dwight gave Michael a sidelong glance. "This is serious, Michael. You need to be ready. What if they ask you questions? What if they try to intimidate you? You can't just... joke your way through this."

Michael waved off Dwight's concerns, clearly unconcerned. "Relax, Dwight. I've dealt with tough customers before. I've sold paper to some of the most intimidating people in Scranton. I can handle this."

Dwight sighed, his fingers drumming anxiously on his thigh. "This is different. This isn't just about selling paper. We're about to walk into the heart of the government's most secret operations. You need to be on your A-game."

Michael flashed a confident smile. "Dwight, my friend, I am always on my A-game. In fact, I'm on my A-plus game. Maybe even A-plus-plus. Whatever this is, I can handle it. We're a team, right? Like Batman and Alfred."

Within a second Dwight asked, "Why do I have to be Alfred? Wouldn't I be Robin? If anything, we are more like Batman and almost-as-cool Batman."

Michael stared at Dwight for a second. "No, Dwight. Ryan is my Robin. Ryan is a young man who came to learn from the master. You are my Alfred because you're old and in charge of doing what I say."

"But let's not get too worked up about this. We're just going to... wherever this is, we'll do what we need to do, and then we'll get back to Scranton in time for lunch."

Dwight leaned back in his seat, still on high alert but slightly reassured by Michael's confidence. "Alright. But keep your eyes open. And don't touch anything without gloves. You never know what kind of biohazards they might have in a place like this—and very likely only one or two would give us superpowers."

As the car rolled to a stop in front of the massive facility, Michael and Dwight's first impressions couldn't have been more different.

Michael leaned forward in his seat, his eyes wide with awe as he took in the sheer size of the building before them. "Whoa, Dwight... this place is huge! I feel like I'm about to walk into a movie set. Do you think they filmed Mission Impossible here?"

Dwight, on the other hand, was all business. His eyes scanned the perimeter, noting the high fences topped with razor wire, the heavily armed guards patrolling the entrance, and the rows of security cameras tracking their every move. "Michael, this isn't a movie set. This is a top-tier government facility. Look at those guards—they're not messing around. We need to be on high alert."

Michael waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, come on, Dwight. They probably just have those guys there for show. You know, to make the place look more official. It's like how they have those cardboard cutouts of police officers at grocery stores to make you think twice about shoplifting."

Before Dwight could respond, a tall, stern-looking man in a black suit approached them. He had a military bearing, and his expression was as unreadable as the rest of the facility. "Mr. Scott, Mr. Schrute," he greeted them with a curt nod. "Welcome to the facility. I'm Agent Harris. I'll be giving you a tour before your meeting."

Dwight immediately snapped to attention, offering a crisp salute. "Agent Harris, it's an honor to be here, sir. I am Dwight Schrute, the Assistant Regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin, as well as the leader of seven different Scranton Neighborhood Watch groups."

Agent Harris, unsure how to respond to the overzealous introduction from Mr. Schrute, looked over to Mr. Scott, hoping the man to whom they'd be entrusting the world's most dangerous weapon was more... normal.

Michael, however, was still caught up in his own imagination. "So, Agent Harris," he began, his tone casual, "what kind of cool stuff do you guys have here? Any alien autopsies? Secret spy gadgets?"

Agent Harris's expression didn't change. "I'm afraid I can't disclose the nature of our work here, Mr. Scott. But I can assure you, everything you're about to see is highly classified. Please follow me."

The moment they stepped inside, they were greeted by a stark, high-tech environment that was both impressive and intimidating. The walls were lined with sleek metal panels, and the floors were a pristine white that seemed to reflect the bright overhead lights. They passed through several security checkpoints, each more stringent than the last, until they finally entered a long hallway that seemed to stretch on forever.

"This facility is equipped with the latest in security technology," Agent Harris explained as they walked, "including biometric scanners, thermal imaging, and automated defense systems. Every square inch of this building is monitored 24/7. We don't take any chances here."

Michael tried to suppress a grin. "So, it's like Fort Knox, but cooler?"

At this point, Harris's mental state was racing. He had dedicated his entire life to protecting this country, but now he and his family's lives might depend on this bumbling buffoon in front of him.

Harris didn't respond to Michael's comment. Instead, he led them to a large, reinforced door at the end of the hallway. After a quick scan of his credentials, the door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a vast, open space that looked like something out of a science fiction movie.

The two Dunder Mifflin employees walked into a small film room, Agent Harris leading them to their seats before turning the projector on and allowing a film to play.

The screen displayed the official seal of the United States, followed by a stern voiceover. "This briefing is classified and is intended only for the highest levels of government and security officials. The following information is strictly confidential."

Michael leaned forward in his seat, his eyes glued to the screen. "This is like one of those training videos we used to watch in the office... but, you know, not boring."

Dwight nodded, his gaze intense. "This is serious, Michael. Pay attention."

The footage began with a shot of a barren, snow-covered landscape—an isolated section of the Arctic. The camera panned slowly across the desolate terrain before zooming in on a large, perfectly circular crater, its edges smooth and precise. The voiceover continued.

"Seras, designation: Alpha-01, is the most powerful and unprecedented anomaly in recorded history. Born eighteen years ago, she possesses strength, abilities, and intelligence that defy all known scientific understanding. Her capabilities were first observed shortly after her birth when she unintentionally caused the deaths of the medical personnel attending her delivery. Since then, she has been raised under strict supervision within this facility."

The screen cut to a series of clips, each more unsettling than the last. In one, a four-year-old Seras is seen lifting an entire concrete wall with a single hand, her expression blank as if the feat required no effort at all. In another, she is a teenager, effortlessly disarming and subduing a group of highly trained soldiers in a simulated combat exercise.

Michael's eyes widened as he watched. "She was doing that when she was a kid? That's... that's insane."

Dwight's focus was unbroken, his mind absorbing every detail. "Keep watching, Michael. There's more."

The footage shifted to a recording from two years ago. Seras, now a young adult, was standing in the middle of a frozen wasteland. The camera zoomed out to reveal a small group of figures in the distance—scientists working on something just out of frame. The voiceover returned, colder now.

"During the Arctic Incident, Seras was deployed to neutralize a rogue cell of scientists attempting to develop a bioweapon capable of mass destruction. Despite being instructed to use discretion, Seras, frustrated by the early morning deployment, executed her mission with overwhelming force."

On the screen, Seras raised her fist and brought it down on the ground with unimaginable power. The resulting shockwave obliterated everything in its path, creating the massive crater they had seen earlier in the footage. The screen then switched to satellite images showing the devastation from above—a hundred-mile radius of ice, rock, and snow completely vaporized.

Michael's mouth hung open in disbelief. "She did that... with one punch?"

The voiceover continued, "The scale of destruction caused by Seras during this incident led to an international crisis. The United Nations formally protested her continued use, labeling her as a global threat. As a result, the United States government was forced to retire her from active service. Since then, she has remained under observation within this facility."

The screen shifted to a live feed of Seras, sitting calmly in her enclosure, her stormy grey eyes watching the camera with unsettling awareness. The footage ended with a final, ominous statement.

"Seras's capabilities are not fully understood, and her potential threat cannot be underestimated. While she remains cooperative, the risk she poses to global security is unprecedented. Any attempts to reintegrate her into society must be approached with extreme caution."

The screen went dark, leaving the room in silence.

Michael finally leaned back in his chair, his face pale. He looked over to Dwight whose sweat was dripping down his face and onto his suit.

Agent Harris, who had been standing quietly by the door, stepped forward. "That's why you're here. Seras has been compliant, but she's also been isolated her entire life. The government believes that placing her in a more normal environment might help her integrate better into society. But make no mistake—this is not without risk. You will be her legal guardian, but she is far beyond anyone's control."

Michael swallowed hard, his earlier bravado now thoroughly shaken. "And... and you think I'm the right guy for this? Me?"

Harris nodded. "The government has weighed all options, and based on your relationship to Seras, you are the best shot we have."