Alexander quickly moved on from thinking about Stark, that wasn't something he could deal with lightly. Tony was important, but he was something for the future, for now he wasn't nearly as important as the various SCP objects out there.
The other two objects that had been on the block were something that likely required attention sooner than the others.
SCP-1230: A Hero is Born. Current Owner: Justin Hammer.
Alexander summoned the book A Hero is Born and was eager to get his hands on it. The book wasn't dangerous; as far as SCP objects went, this one was very well worth the safe label.
It could cause some kinds of madness, but honestly it was pretty safe to own and use. The most dangerous part of owning the object was the risk that the Foundation would come knocking.
The book would allow the owner and reader to dream of a story with them being the hero. Depending on each person, the dream would be different; some would be knights in shining armor, and others would be a modern-day superhero saving the day.
The dreams would be super realistic, and one could spend decades, if not centuries, inside the dream doing but a single night. This could indeed lead to some nasty side effects. The Foundation had through testing seen some rather extreme reactions.
Alexander, being interested in this object himself, had naturally delved deep down in the files and spent some of his rare free time reading up on the object.
Some of the D-class that spend a lifetime in there, as a hero, surrounded by people they had grown to love, they had gotten married, had children, lived a life, only to suddenly wake up and find themselves in a strange world.
Given enough time, they had forgotten that they had come from the Foundation's world, they had forgotten all that, and were shocked to be far away from their family and loved ones, finding their magic and powers not working. Suddenly, going from hero to prisoner.
Unable to come to terms with reality they had gotten themselves killed.
That was the treat, losing oneself in the dream.
But personally, Alexander didn't worry, he wasn't some normal person, he wouldn't disappear about losing his powers, waking up, he would still be superpowered. And spending a few decades in a dream wouldn't be enough to make him forget the Millenium of running the Foundation.
So he figured he had nothing to worry about and everything to gain if everything meant some more interesting sleep. He couldn't spend his days having fun in the Marvel world because he had to work.
He might as well spend the nights in other fictive worlds having fun.
Getting that book wasn't a super priority, but he would have someone look for a chance to steal it without raising any alarms. The Foundation was more than able to hit all those people, rich or not; they were nothing in front of the Foundation.
But it would raise some eyebrows; people would know why they were hit and that someone from the auction was behind it.
Though the same couldn't be said for Marshall, Carter, and Dark Ltd, they would know that it was the Foundation who was behind it. which would tip them off to having an informant on the invitation list. Which might expose O5-3's position.
So Stark would be left alone for a bit, but he would also be hit first. It wouldn't be strange that the Foundation kept an eye on him since he had gotten an object from the last auction, so it wouldn't be cause for alarm.
Of all the items that was sold at the recent auction want which wasn't bought by the Foundation, none was on the level of SCP-1025. The Encyclopedia of Common Diseases had once been listed as Keter class, and not because it was a flight risk.
No, it was one of the rare cases where even people inside the Foundation decided to give an object the Keter classification due to its potential danger rather than the risks and costs of its containment.
Unlike A Hero is Born, SCP-1025 didn't pose a risk of psychological entrapment or escapism. It was far more sinister. Each entry read within its pages could trigger the corresponding disease in the reader—a terrifying capability if exploited correctly. In the wrong hands, it was effectively a weaponized medical manual.
An enemy of the Foundation could read a page, contract a rare disease, and through sheer proximity infect others, spreading devastation wherever they went. Worse, with diseases that had no cure, the consequences could be apocalyptic. In an uncontrolled environment, SCP-1025 could bring entire cities to their knees without so much as a single shot fired.
Alexander knew that he couldn't blame the agent for not bidding on the object. He wasn't tasked with getting everything, just the most dangerous ones. The ones that would be hard to get back.
He might have been told not to worry about the price, but that didn't mean that a normal person could just totally disregard spending hundreds of billions. Even if it wasn't their own money, they would still feel guilty about spending too much of it.
And since they only had a surface understanding of objects, they likely didn't think about bidding since it was listed as a safe class object. While safe didn't mean none-dangerous, it was often a good indication.
Still, SCP-1025's potential could not be ignored. In the wrong hands, it was nothing short of a biological weapon—one that could act in complete silence, a nightmare made from the mundane. Alexander was determined to retrieve it before it slipped any further from their reach.
Even someone like Alexander couldn't help but feel a cold shiver run down his spine at the thought of someone unleashing the real horrors contained within that book. For while it could cause colds, cancer and smallpox. It could also cause so much more.
Within those cursed pages were not just common diseases but also SCP diseases.
Even without the desire to use the book as a weapon, even if the owner just wanted to use it to research cures, something like SCP-008, the Zombie Plague could cause untold levels of devastation if one was careless.
It was a prion disease that is 100% infectious and leads to symptoms resembling a "zombie" state, including aggression, loss of higher brain functions, and cannibalistic tendencies. It is highly contagious through fluid contact.
It is something kind of fiction, so any normal and reasonable person wouldn't think of the entry as being real. They wouldn't act, and once they finally did, it would be too little too late. And a zombie outbreak would be in full swing.
It was the same with SCP-610, commonly known as "The Flesh That Hates." SCP-610 was a horrifying infection that transformed living tissue into grotesque, sentient masses of flesh. Once infected, a host would undergo rapid, grotesque mutations, resulting in abominations barely recognizable as human.
SCP-610 spread through physical contact, turning victims into mobile vectors of infection, and even from a distance, prolonged observation of infected areas suggested it had a disturbing tendency to "lure" people in.
Alexander knew the ramifications all too well. If anyone read the entry on SCP-610, the results could be catastrophic. An unsuspecting researcher, eager to experiment with what they believed was just another fascinating disease, might unwittingly introduce an infection that spread as quickly as it mutated.
Alexander shuddered at the thought of a metropolitan area overtaken by this horrific contagion, its population twisted into monsters, its streets a living nightmare of flesh and decay. Recovery would be nearly impossible.
The sheer scope of destruction that SCP-1025 could unleash made it clear why retrieving it was not just an objective but an imperative. Marshall, Carter, and Dark had been reckless in auctioning it off; they were likely unaware of the full range of its entries, focused instead on its more benign diseases and its macabre appeal as a "curiosity."
And the list continued on, things like the horrible SCP-217, also known as the Clockwork Virus. This insidious anomaly infected biological organisms and slowly converted them into mechanical constructs. The infected tissues would transform into gears, wires, and clockwork mechanisms, all while the victim remained alive and conscious through the painful process.
SCP-217 spread through bodily fluids and, if left unchecked, could lead to entire populations becoming twisted amalgamations of living, suffering machines.
Alexander's expression hardened as he recalled the case files describing the aftermath of even small-scale outbreaks of SCP-217. Entire facilities had been compromised, staff slowly converted into clockwork versions of themselves, their minds still intact but utterly trapped within their new mechanical prisons.
If someone read SCP-217's entry and became infected, the consequences could be disastrous, leading to both the physical and psychological collapse of any environment it spread through.
With these potential threats weighing on him, Alexander made a final note: securing SCP-1025 was a top priority. He couldn't afford to let someone who saw it as a "fascinating medical text" unknowingly unleash its horrors upon the world. In the wrong hands, this book could sow destruction without a single explosion, a silent weapon unlike anything humanity had faced.
Turning away from his notes, he sent an encrypted message to his retrieval team: SCP-1025 was to be secured at all costs. Failure was not an option, not with the stakes this high.