Ava looks down that quantum tunnel. Scott Lang got himself trapped in there because he was trying to help her. After all she did. He’s a good man. She now knows his history enough to know that, that he only fell in with Pym when he was kind of desperate. Told pretty words, probably, about being a hero, by someone able to take advantage of him, just like S.H.I.E.L.D. took advantage of her.
She makes a decision. “Can you send me in there? They would’ve brought the Wasp suit in case of an emergency, and I’m completely stabilized for at least another week, right?”
He looks at her in dismay. “Look, if we had any idea how to start looking for him, that would be one thing. But there’s no way we’re going to get him out of there before you start to go again, at least not without you getting another dose of those particles. We may have no choice but to do what we have to to save you.”
The thought of being how she’s been, living every moment in excruciating pain and terror, almost makes her balk. Not long ago, she would’ve thought the exact same thing herself. But now she persists: “If I went in there and got them, instead of us extracting them, would that cause him the same kind of damage?”
He considers it for a moment. “I don’t know. We still know very little about the quantum realm. If Janet were still here…but I’m not sure how much she’d even be able to put into words.
Though then again, he did connect with her. You might connect with him. At the very least, you could make more readings, get more data. It’s better than trying nothing, I suppose.”
Ava doesn’t tell him how terrified she is as she dons the suit, that the shrinking process will rip her apart again, maybe even without putting her back together this time. But when Dr. Foster says, “Okay, I’m sending you in,” and the world grows too big around her before flashing away, there isn’t even a twinge.
Instead she finds herself surrounded by light and color, clouds of them all around her, bright and dazzling. It’s so warm around her too, and she doesn’t think she’s actually absorbing anything, but just being here makes her feel better anyway. The Wasp suit has its gadgets for collecting data built in; Ava hears them hum as she opens up the spare container for her particles. When they’re gathered, she pauses for just another moment, just to take it all in.
“Ava?” Dr. Foster’s voice sounds strangely distant, even through the line. “Are you all right?”
“Perfectly,” she says, because she is, more than she’s been in a long time. Distantly she’s aware this isn’t nice, feeling this way when it’s only been a day since most of San Francisco and apparently half the world perished, but she can’t care. “I’ve got the particles.”
And she’ll have to come back here for more, of course, at least a few times. With better measuring equipment too, maybe.
She’s no fool; she knows this beautiful place is a dangerous one. But she can’t remember the last time she actually looked forward to something.
When Dr. Foster pulls her out, she’s smiling, so brightly that when he sees, he can’t help but smile back.