The figure moving through the darkness wasn't Lock this time.
It was Hope.
Barefoot, she crept into the training room, her movements silent and deliberate. The moonlight filtered through the blinds, faintly illuminating the red-and-black Ant-Man suit laid out on the workbench.
Hope hesitated only for a moment before snatching it up.
As she carefully put it on, she muttered under her breath, "Ugh… it still smells like that stinky man."
Her frustration hadn't cooled since the afternoon. Lock had refused to help, her father wouldn't let her fight, and every logical argument had been dismissed.
Fine. If no one would let her prove herself, she'd do it anyway.
Kill first, explain later.
Once the last latch sealed, she pressed the activator on her wrist. With a flash of red light, her body compressed to the size of a pinhead.
A blur of motion, and she was already scaling the leg of the table, bounding across scattered blueprints toward the window. Outside, a trained flying ant hovered patiently, awaiting her signal.
But just as she was about to leap—
Thunk.
Hope slammed into something invisible.
Stunned, she looked up—and realized she had crashed into a glass cup, its smooth curve towering over her like a transparent fortress.
The hand holding it tilted slightly.
Inside the reflection, she saw the unmistakable grin of Lock.
No matter how quietly Hope had moved, she could never have hidden from his senses. Between his divine awareness and her earlier outburst, Lock had already guessed she'd try something reckless tonight.
He turned the glass over, trapping her neatly on the table.
Tiny fists began hammering against the surface, each strike amplified by her compressed strength—every blow powerful enough to pierce metal. Yet the glass didn't so much as tremble.
Hope froze in disbelief. "What—?"
Each time she hit it, the cup seemed to ripple like liquid light, dispersing the force and bouncing her back.
Her shock quickly turned to rage. "You—you knew I'd do this!" she shouted, her voice amplified through the comm system of the suit.
Lock merely leaned closer, the corner of his mouth twitching.
When she saw his smug face filling her sky, the heat in her chest ignited again.
"Asshole! Coward! Let me out right now!"
"Calm down first," Lock said mildly. "Then I'll let you out."
"I am calm!" she screamed. "And when I get out, I'm going to punch you into orbit!"
"Oh," he said lightly, "so you're not calm yet." He gave the glass a playful tap. "Stay in there a bit longer."
"Coward! Bastard!—"
She shouted until her throat went hoarse, then finally sat down cross-legged, her shoulders trembling.
Lock raised an eyebrow. "Done already?"
No answer.
He smiled faintly. "All right, stop pretending. You don't even have tears in your eyes."
If it had been anyone else, they might have fallen for the act—but Lock's spiritual perception saw everything.
Hope stiffened, realizing she'd been caught. Mortified, she struck the glass again in frustration. "You really don't believe I can do this, do you?"
Lock's tone softened. "It's not that. Your father and I both believe you're more capable than Scott. But you're not the one meant to do this mission."
Her tone hardened. "Because I'm a woman?"
He shook his head. "No. Because you're his daughter."
Hope froze, the anger draining from her expression.
Lock continued quietly, "Your father chose Scott because he's expendable. He's an outsider. If Scott dies, Hank loses nothing. But if you die… he loses everything."
Hope's fists clenched inside the gloves. "That's not true. If Scott fails, it could mean a global catastrophe. The stakes are bigger than either of us."
Lock nodded. "Exactly. Hank Pym would rather risk the world than lose you."
That silenced her.
For a long time, Hope said nothing. Her voice was small when she finally spoke. "You're wrong. He loves himself more than anyone. When my mother died, he threw me into boarding school. Two weeks. Not a single visit. You call that love?"
Her voice broke at the end. This time, the tears were real.
Lock's tone softened. "You've misunderstood him."
She lifted her head, confused. "What do you mean?"
"Your father didn't send you away out of neglect. He did it because he was trying to save your mother."
Hope blinked. "Save her? She—she died. That's what he told me."
Lock shook his head. "That's what he believed… after he failed."
He gestured faintly, and the air around them shimmered with images—memories, echoes of history that only Lock could summon.
"Your mother, Janet Van Dyne, the first Wasp, sacrificed herself to stop a nuclear missile. She went subatomic to disable it from the inside, knowing it meant she'd fall into the Quantum Realm. Hank didn't believe she was truly gone. For two weeks, he locked himself in his lab, trying to find a way to bring her back."
Hope's breath caught.
"He didn't eat. Didn't sleep. The only reason he sent you away was to protect you while he searched."
Lock's eyes softened. "But the technology didn't exist. After two weeks, when every simulation failed, he finally broke. He convinced himself she must have perished—either from starvation or because she was trapped forever beyond reach."
Hope could only stare, her mind blank.
Lock continued gently, "But he was wrong. Janet didn't die. She survived in the Quantum Realm—and evolved. The realm's energy sustained her. It changed her."
For a long moment, Hope just stood there inside the glass, stunned. "You're saying… my mother's alive?"
Lock nodded once. "Alive. Still trapped, but alive."
Before he could say more, a voice broke through from the doorway—hoarse, trembling.
"Alive?"
Both turned.
Dr. Hank Pym stood there, pale and wide-eyed, wearing his old bathrobe. He must have woken when he heard their voices and crept downstairs—only to catch Lock's final words.
Lock had known he was there, of course, but chose not to stop him.
Hank rushed forward, gripping Lock's arm. "Is that true? Don't toy with me. She's been gone thirty years—there's no food, no oxygen in the Quantum Realm—how could she possibly still be alive?"
Lock met his gaze calmly. "Dr. Pym, the Quantum Realm defies every law of physics we know. Do you really think someone who exists beyond atoms still needs air or food?"
Hank faltered, his mind racing.
"The quantum field isn't just microscopic space," Lock continued. "It's another dimension entirely—time, energy, and matter flow differently there. Even you admitted, after ten years of study, that you still knew nothing about it."
Hank's lips parted, but no words came.
Lock's voice lowered. "You were closer to the truth than you realized. The Quantum Realm isn't a void—it's a living ecosystem of energy. Your wife adapted to it."
For a moment, silence filled the room—until a sharp crack broke it.
Hope, overwhelmed, had struck the glass again. The cup rattled in Lock's hand.
With a quiet sigh, he lifted it and set it aside.
In a burst of blue light, Hope expanded back to full size, her Ant-Man helmet retracting. She marched up to Lock, eyes blazing.
"Coward," she said through clenched teeth. "Tell me—where is my mother now? And how do I bring her back?"
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