Now that the circle was officially complete, the thirteen-sided room settled into a heavy, historic quiet.
Yuki looked around the long tridecagon layout, meeting the collective focus of the twelve dark silhouettes whose fates were now anchored to his own.
He adjusted his posture, leaning forward with the authority of his position.
“Welcome to the SCP Foundation O5 Council,” Yuki said, his voice echoing perfectly against the impenetrable gray fog.
“Now that you have all accepted your designations and locked in your privileges, the secrecy protocols are satisfied. I am free to answer your questions. Speak.”
The first to move was the rounded silhouette of O5-2 The Eccentric Inventor.
He leaned his elbows on the table, tapping his newly branded left palm against the obsidian surface.
“Then let’s start with the basics, young man,” he said, his booming voice carrying a rare, serious edge.
“What exactly is this ‘SCP Foundation’?”
“The Foundation is a global organization responsible for securing and studying paranormal, supernatural, and anomalous entities or phenomena,” Yuki answered smoothly.
He gestured to the faint blue geometric lines pulsing across the table.
“Our entire existence revolves around three core values: Secure. Contain. Protect. We stand in the dark to shield humanity from anything that defies the established laws of nature.”
“And those… things we saw in the holographic footage?” O5-9 The Pharmacologist cut in immediately, his voice tight with a mixture of dread and academic fascination.
“What are they, biologically or physically speaking?”
“They are anomalies,” Yuki explained, his tone completely clinical.
“They cannot be measured or explained by standard scientific methods. They are phenomena, objects, or entities that actively break consensus reality. Take the angel-like mass of feathers you saw swallowing that town. That entity feeds entirely on sound waves. The more noise it consumes, the faster it multiplies, expanding endlessly until nothing but silence remains.”
A quiet, uneasy rustle ran through the silhouettes.
“So, let me get this straight,” O5-13 The God of Wisdom piped up, tilting her head as she rested her chin on the handle of her cane.
“You dragged us away from our daily lives and branded our souls just to tell us we are supposed to go out there and capture these fairy-tale monsters?”
“No,” Yuki replied firmly, his gaze narrowing.
“What you saw in there is just the tip of the iceberg. I didn’t assemble this council just to hunt local ghosts. We need to work together because there are entities out there capable of rewriting history, tearing down civilization, and completely destroying our world.”
The final word dropped like a lead weight into the center of the table.
An immediate, chaotic wave of shock rippled across the room.
Several silhouettes stiffened violently, and the quiet murmurs that broke out carried a genuine, underlying panic at the sudden, catastrophic reality of the situation.
“And what exactly do we get for putting our lives on the line against these world-ending terrors?”
The youthful, dangerous voice of O5-4 Young Monster sliced through the rising panic.
Her slender silhouette leaned back, crossing her legs casually as she tapped a finger against the dark stone table.
“Speaking as a merchant, I don’t believe in working for free. An indestructible phone and a fancy title are nice, but if the risk is absolute destruction, the profit margin needs to match.”
Yuki locked his eyes onto her shrouded form, his expression deadpan.
“Your compensation is already covered by the privileges you just signed for,” he stated coldly.
“As O5-1, I hold the authority to terminate your contract, kick you out of this council, and completely erase your memories of this place.”
He let the threat hang in the air for a brief second before continuing.
“But think about what happens next. If you walk out that door with an empty mind, you go back to a world where these reality-breaking anomalies are actively bleeding through the seams. Without the knowledge of the Foundation, without your indestructible hardware, and without your twenty-four-hour resurrection conduit, you could accidentally step into an anomalous zone tomorrow and die a permanent, horrific death without ever knowing why. The Foundation isn’t just offering you a job, O5-4. It is offering you the literal cheat to survive the coming apocalypse.”
A brief silence followed his words. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
The silhouette of the Young Monster tilted her head, her posture relaxing as a soft, completely satisfied hum escaped her.
For someone who operated in the lethal, unpredictable world of international weapon smuggling, she deeply valued her own safety and the survival of the people under her command.
Universal plot armor and a guaranteed respawn were worth more than any mountain of gold.
Just as the atmosphere began to steady, a familiar, sharp vibration throbbed against Yuki’s leg.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone.
Before tapping into the flashing red application dashboard, his eyes caught the digital clock on his lock screen: 4:56 AM.
Damn, Yuki thought, a sudden spike of real-world stress piercing through his administrative majesty.
I have exactly one hour before I need to start getting ready for school.
Realizing he was completely out of time for a prolonged ideological debate, Yuki decided to drag the council straight to the front lines.
He swiped his hand forcefully across the obsidian table, instantly projecting his phone’s active radar alerts directly onto the grand holographic layout for the entire council to see.
“Okay, I think that’s enough talk,” Yuki said, his voice snapping with urgent authority as five glowing red warning windows expanded before their eyes.
“Anomalies have started to appear.”
The twelve shrouded silhouettes leaned forward in unison, their hidden eyes wide as they scanned the central holographic display.
A massive, hyper-detailed digital globe of the Earth materialized over the obsidian stone, spinning slowly in mid-air.
Five distinct, colored beacons were pulsing aggressively across its continents, pulling live tracking data directly from global surveillance networks.
Yuki gestured toward the glowing sphere.
“Look at the world.”
The council members stared at the glowing globe, the color-coded markers hammering home the reality of their newly branded titles.
The anomalous world was actively bleeding through the seams of common sense, scattered from local arcades and active underworld shootouts right here in Japan, all the way to the streets of Europe and North Africa.
Yuki leaned forward, his finger tapping the small, glowing white beacon on the mini holographic interface directly in front of his seat.
Instantly, the massive floating globe shifted, zooming in with sharp, geometric lines until the map locked onto the northernmost island of Japan.
The white light pulsed brighter, casting a pale glow across the obsidian table as Yuki read the details aloud.
“Amagi Brilliant Park, Hokkaido, Japan. Status: A severe spike in local Hume levels has been registered. Reality stability is fluctuating.”
“Pardon the interruption, O5-1,” the cautious voice of O5-6 Twilight cut through the room.
His rigid silhouette leaned slightly forward.
“But what exactly is a ‘Hume level’? If we are going to assess a threat, I need to understand the metrics.”
“It is the standard measurement of reality used by the SCP Foundation,” Yuki answered smoothly, channeling the absolute knowledge of his administrative role.
“Think of it as atmospheric pressure, but for existence itself. When a Hume level spikes or plummets, it means someone or something in that specific area is actively violating the fundamental laws of nature and bending the local fabric of reality.”
Yuki’s hidden eyes swept across the council, his tone dropping into a practical, command-oriented rhythm.
“Since we are running low on time, we need to utilize local proximity. Who among us is currently closest to Hokkaido?”
A heavy, calculating silence blanketed the tridecagon layout.
Then, a slight, poised movement came from the right side of the table as O5-7 Little President hesitated, her hands smoothing over her lap beneath her dark veil.
“I… happen to be in Hokkaido at the moment,” she admitted softly, her refined voice laced with a touch of natural caution.
“I am currently accompanying my master on a brief regional stay. If it is necessary, I can adjust my schedule to visit the area.”
“Don’t stress over it too much. The beacon is white, meaning this is strictly an observation and data-gathering mission. There’s no need for combat or containment protocols yet. You just need to walk into the location, blend in, and take a look around. Judging by the file, it’s just an ordinary amusement park. You might even get to enjoy a nice, relaxing trip there.”
But beneath his steady, confident facade, Yuki was secretly sweating bullets, screaming an apology to her in his own mind.
I am so, so sorry, Little President!
Yuki prayed frantically behind his unreadable mask.
In the SCP universe, ‘blind investigation’ is literally the number-one cause of death for field agents!
An innocent amusement park could easily turn into an extra-dimensional death trap or an eldritch playground by the time you pass the front gates.
Please, whatever you do, just don’t touch anything suspicious!
Unaware of the silent, frantic prayers of her commander, O5-7 bowed her head slightly from her leather chair.
“Understood, O5-1. Since it is a public venue, a scouting trip should be simple enough to manage. I will accept the assignment and report any fluctuations directly to the app.”
Next, Yuki’s finger tapped the small, blinking green beacon on his display.
The digital globe shifted swiftly, centering directly over the lively city lights of western Japan.
“Arcade Game Center, Osaka, Japan,” Yuki read aloud to the table.
“Target: An unclassified anomalous object. It’s a standard copper penny that mathematically defies all laws of probability. It continuously lands on ‘Heads’ regardless of velocity, rotation, or the landing surface. Retrieval is required.”
He swiped his hand to attach a brief live clip onto the main screen.
“As you can see from the surveillance log, it’s currently stuck inside a coin-operated token machine. Spotting it should be incredibly easy because it’s a foreign American penny, completely distinct from standard Japanese currency. It’s a simple snatch-and-grab. Anyone willing to take it?”
“Oh, an anomaly that breaks the laws of probability?” O5-5 The Compulsive Gambler spoke up instantly, her slender silhouette shaking with pure, unadulterated delight.
She leaned over the table, her dark form practically radiating excitement.
“A coin that never loses its wager… how utterly intoxicating! I happen to be right near the Osaka district today, O5-1. Please, let me be the one to pluck this lucky little token from the machine.”
“Okay… The asset is yours, O5-5, please don’t misuse the item,” Yuki said, locking her assignment into the interface.
He immediately moved his finger across the console, highlighting the first of the two yellow beacons.
The holographic Earth spun dramatically across the oceans, zooming past Asia to lock dead onto Western Europe.
“Flea Market, Prenzlauer Berg, Berlin, Germany. Target: SCP-034. Status: The object is currently sitting in open circulation among civilian merchants. It needs to be secured immediately before an ordinary collector buys it.”
“Excuse me, O5-1,” the sharp, haughty voice of O5-8 The Ice Princess rang out from the left.
“You keep tossing around these arbitrary file numbers, but what exactly is this ‘SCP-034’?”
“SCP-034, officially titled the Obsidian Ritual Knife, is a primitive, one-thousand-year-old obsidian blade,” Yuki explained, his voice flat and clinical.
“It is safely categorized under the ‘Safe’ classification, meaning it won’t actively break containment on its own. However, its properties are highly volatile. When used, it allows its bearer to perfectly mimic the physical appearance, voice, and biological characteristics of another human being. The catch is that you must cut a small piece of skin or flesh from a living subject and physically apply it to your own body to trigger the transformation. It is, for all intents and purposes, a flawless disguise tool.”
A wave of quiet, intense revulsion instantly rippled across the feminine members of the council.
“Cutting flesh to wear someone else’s face…?” O5-7 Little President muttered, her polite voice hitching in visible discomfort as her silhouette shuddered.
“That is… profoundly grotesque. To think such a barbaric thing is sitting in a public market.”
“How utterly vulgar,” O5-8 hissed, her elegant posture stiffening into a display of pure aristocratic disgust.
“Using a blood-soaked relic of human mutilation just to play dress-up… the sheer lack of dignity and hygiene in these anomalies is offensive. I certainly hope you aren’t expecting me to soil my hands with such a repulsive object.”
“It’s a biological parasite disguised as engineering,” O5-3 Best Hacker chimed in with an arrogant, unimpressed sigh.
“Gross. I’ll stick to digital identity theft, thanks. At least code doesn’t leave skin cells on your shirt.”
Yuki ignored the complaints, keeping his eyes on the blinking yellow marker over Germany.
“Disgusting or not, it’s out in the wild. If a civilian discovers what it does, the security breach will be damaging. So… who’s up for a trip to Berlin?”