Yuki’s eyes snapped open as a massive yawn overtook him.
Still half-asleep, his hand blindly patted the empty sheets and the sides of his mattress, searching for his phone.
Coming up empty, he stood up, grabbed his blanket by the corner, and shook it out until the device slithered onto the mattress.
He picked it up and tapped the screen to check the time, 5:49 AM.
“Ten minutes before the alarm,” Yuki muttered, rubbing his eyes as he sank back down onto the edge of the bed.
Instead of going back to sleep, he unlocked the device and tapped the unremovable app.
The application bloomed into view, but the interface had dramatically shifted since his last visit.
Three prominent new interactive buttons lay cleanly across his phone screen.
___
[ RADAR ],
[ CLASS A AMNESIAC ]
[ FORUM ]
___
Curious, Yuki tapped [ RADAR ] first.
The screen instantly rendered an active, real-time overhead satellite map of his immediate neighborhood in Gifu Prefecture.
A faint green ring pulsed outward from his location, tracking the local Hume levels and scanning for unregistered anomalies.
Seeing the place completely clear of any blinking beacons, he backed out and tapped [ CLASS A AMNESIAC ].
The screen immediately transitioned into a specialized camera interface, but before he could even aim it at the wall or press the capture button, a massive, crimson warning banner flashed violently across his screen, accompanied by a sharp, urgent vibration.
___
[WARNING: OPERATOR OCCULAR EXPOSURE RISK DETECTED]
SYSTEM RETROGRADE RETINAL STRIKE SAFETY ACTIVE.
PLEASE SPECIFY AND UTILIZE HIGH-DENSITY DARK TINT MATERIAL FOR THE OCULAR SENSES BEFORE INITIATING CLASS A AMNESIAC.
EXPOSURE WILL TRIGGER MEMORY LOSS.
___
Yuki stared at the blinking text, his finger freezing just millimeters above the screen.
A cold sweat suddenly broke out on the back of his neck, and he let out a nervous, self-deprecating laugh.
“Oh, Shit… Hahaha…,” he whispered, his heart hammering in his chest.
“I almost neuralyzed my self before the first day even started. Talk about an administrative disaster.”
Finally, he tapped the third utility, [ FORUM ].
The main messaging directory was completely blank, a silent, pristine digital canvas awaiting the input of the council.
Realizing the twelve silhouettes were likely back in their physical bodies waiting for a sign, Yuki decided to do the honors and establish the first official administrative log.
He tapped the compose prompt, his fingers moving rapidly across the screen.
___
[THREAD INITIALIZED: ADMINISTRATIVE COORDINATION]
FROM: O5-1 (THE REINCARNATOR)
TO: ALL COUNCIL MEMBERS
The link is permanent.
To ensure global synchronization and operational security across all areas, our formal assemblies are strictly scheduled for Sunday at 12:00 AM UTC+8.
Adjust your local standard clocks accordingly.
Tokyo, Berlin, Osaka, Hokkaido, and New Cairo are active.
Do not fail your first containment.
Humanity is counting on our silence.
We Secure, We Contain, We Protect.
___
Yuki stared at the text, a smirk playing on his face.
UTC+8.
Perfect, he thought.
That covers Beijing, Singapore, Manila, and Western Australia.
Let them try to guess where I am based on that.
Before the screen could even dim, the soft, rhythmic thud of footsteps echoed from the wooden hallway outside, moving directly toward his bedroom door.
Knock, knock.
Yuki quickly locked his phone and slipped it beneath his pillow, smoothly transitioning from the cold, calculating mindset of O5-1 back into his ordinary civilian reality.
The heavy weight of managing an organization seemed to evaporate, replaced by the familiar warmth of his home in Gifu Prefecture.
He swung his legs out of bed, stepped across the tatami mats, and pulled the sliding door open.
Standing in the hallway was his little sister, her hair still slightly messy from sleep as she rubbed her eyes, clutching a worn-out pillow under her arm.
She looked up at him with a sleepy, questioning pout, wondering why he was already awake before his usual alarm had even finished buzzing on the nightstand.
Yuki looked down at her, the exhaustion from his intense, otherworldly midnight assembly completely fading away.
He took a deep breath, letting out a genuine, bright grin as he reached out to gently ruffle her messy hair.
No matter what kind of reality-warping anomalies, biological unknowns, or cosmic horrors were lurking out there in the dark, he knew exactly what he was standing in the shadows to protect.
With a confident smile on his face, the Administrator of the SCP Foundation walked down to the kitchen to help make breakfast.
***
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
The sharp, deafening roar of automatic gunfire ripped through the morning air of New Cairo, shattering the relative peace of Taha Hussein Road.
A hail of 7.62mm rounds slammed violently into the reinforced, bulletproof rear glass of a sleek, black armored SUV, leaving spiderwebs of white cracks but failing to pierce the heavy plating.
The vehicle violently swerved to the left, tires screeching against the asphalt as it led a high-speed three-car convoy, tearing down the avenue toward the Cairo Festival City Mall.
Behind them, two dusty pickup trucks filled with masked, shouting local militia fighters were furiously giving chase, muzzle flashes erupting from the open flatbeds.
Inside the lead SUV, Koko Hekmatyar was tossed slightly to the side by the sudden turn.
Her pristine white hair swayed as she adjusted her posture, a bright, completely unbothered grin plastered across her face as she casually held her upgraded phone in one hand.
“Whoa! Watch the upholstery, Lehm!” Koko laughed, her voice carrying that trademark eccentric, cheerful energy that completely defied the lethal situation.
“A girl can’t even get a peaceful drive around Egypt without someone trying to crash the party!”
At the steering wheel, Lehm kept his eyes locked on the road ahead, his weathered face deadpan as he calmly threw the massive vehicle into another sharp drift around a delivery truck.
“With all due respect, young lady, you’re the one who called this a ‘vacation break,'” he grunted, steering with one hand while keeping a cigar clamped between his teeth.
“You explicitly told us we were heading to a luxury mall to relax. I didn’t realize your idea of relaxation involved a local syndicate trying to turn us into Swiss cheese.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault the local arms dealers are so sensitive!” Koko pouted playfully, tapping the edge of her phone against her chin.
“I just declined one little meeting with them, and they threw a total tantrum. Talk about bad customer service.”
From the front passenger seat, Jonah glared out the side window, his small hands firmly gripping his compact assault rifle.
His eyes were cold, completely devoid of emotion as he tracked the lead pursuit vehicle in the side mirror.
“They are sloppy,” the young boy muttered flatly.
“They shoot like amateurs. Can I kill them now, Koko?”
“Hold your horses, kiddo,” Lutz shouted from the middle row, checking the chamber of his sniper rifle before winking at Jonah.
“Don’t steal all the fun. Some of us were in the middle of a very nice nap before the bullets started flying.”
“A nap? You’ve got to be kidding me, Lutz!” Valmet boomed, a fierce, terrifying grin stretching across her face as she adjusted her eyepatch.
She racked the slide of her shotgun with a brutal, satisfying click.
“Our beautiful princess calls a rare holiday for the squad, promises us a trip to a massive mall, and these local idiots dare to interrupt her? They deserve to be sliced into pieces just for ruining her good mood!”
“Whoa, chill out, Valmet,” Mao chimed in from the inercoms, holding his assault rifle across his chest while driving the secondary vehicle right behind them.
“I’m just glad we’re heading to a toy store. My kids have been begging for something for months. Though I didn’t think I’d have to fight through a militia block just to have fun at a mall.”
“Exactly! Think of the bad luck of a shootout right before shopping,” Wiley laughed nervously from the intercom, adjusting his goggles as he prepped a small explosive charge just in case.
“If we blow up the avenue, the traffic to the mall is going to be absolute hell. Tojo, what’s the radar looking like ahead?”
Tojo was frantically tapping on a tablet, communicating via the secure comms link.
“We’ve got a minor roadblock about half a kilometer out, just past the next intersection,” Tojo reported, his voice tight but disciplined.
“Two more technicals are trying to box us in before we hit the Festival City perimeter. They really don’t want us reaching our destination.”
“A roadblock? Perfect! I was getting bored with just driving,” Ugo’s booming voice roared through the radio from the third armored vehicle bringing up the rear.
The massive, muscle-bound driver let out a hearty, booming laugh as he aggressively slammed the front bumper of his heavy transport into one of the pursuing militia trucks, sending it spinning wildly into a concrete barrier.
“Don’t worry about the rear, Koko! I’ll pave a clean highway straight to the mall!”
Inside the lead vehicle, Koko leaned her head against the window, watching the chaotic underworld shootout unfold across the sunny Egyptian streets.
She casually glanced down at her phone screen, where the secure Foundation interface was actively updating her distance from the yellow beacon inside Hamleys Toy Shop.
Beneath her cheerful, eccentric facade, her hidden eyes grew incredibly cold, a calculating, ruthless edge sharpening behind her dark gaze.
She didn’t care about the local arms dealers or their petty syndicate turf wars.
And absolutely nothing was going to get between her and her very first containment objective.
“Alright, boys and girls,” Koko purred, a chilling, playful giggle humming through the comms.
“Let’s clean up the trash quickly. We have a very special item waiting for us on the top shelf, and I hate being kept waiting.”
***
(The previous night…)
The blinding light of the Assembly receded, and Koko Hekmatyar’s consciousness slammed back into her physical vessel with a sharp, ragged breath.
Her eyelids fluttered open, the cold glow of the tridecagon table instantly replaced by the warm, filtered lights of her private luxury suite in the Gaza Strip.
She scanned the room, her silver-white hair spilling across the silk pillows.
Sitting rigidly in a chair right beside the bed was Valmet, her single eye scanning the perimeter with lethal intensity, her hand resting casually on the hilt of the knife at her belt.
The moment Koko’s breathing shifted, Valmet instantly sprang to her feet, her towering form hovering over the bed in a flash.
“Koko!” Valmet gasped, her face twisted with a mixture of intense worry and fierce relief.
She leaned down, her hands hovering anxiously over Koko’s shoulders.
“Are you alright?! Please tell me nothing hurts! Are you experiencing any pain, discomfort, or dizziness? I will tear this entire territory apart if someone did this to you!”
Koko let out a soft, characteristic chuckle, raising a hand to placate her fiercely loyal guardian.
“Calm down, Valmet, calm down! I’m perfectly fine. Just a little bit groggy, that’s all.”
Valmet let out a long, heavy exhale, her shoulders visibly slumping as the rigid combat tension drained from her frame.
“Thank goodness… You suddenly collapsed right in the middle of our strategy meeting earlier. You didn’t slip, you didn’t faint, you just became completely unresponsive. We rushed to bring in a high-security local doctor immediately. After a full examination, he told us that you simply collapsed from extreme mental exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep. But I didn’t trust his diagnosis for a second. I haven’t left your side since.”
Koko blinked, her eccentric mind immediately connecting the dots.
Ah, so that’s how the Assembly handles it in the real world, she thought, a small smirk playing on her lips.
A sudden, unresponsive coma due to exhaustion.
Neat.
She stretched her arms elegantly, then turned her hidden gaze back to Valmet.
“How long have I been out, anyway?”
“Almost six hours,” Valmet answered precisely, checking her tactical wristwatch.
“It is already 11:50 pm. Also, we immediately informed your brother, Kasper, about the situation when it happened. He was incredibly concerned. He strictly commanded us to call him the exact second your eyes opened.”
Koko slid her legs out of the bed, her bare feet touching the cool floor.
A sudden phantom throbbing in her right leg caught her attention.
She subtly shifted her gaze downward, feeling the faint, residual heat of the biometric brand underneath her clothing, the Roman numeral IV permanently anchoring her soul to the Foundation.
“Alright, Valmet,” Koko purred, her voice returning to its cheerful, energetic lilt as she reached for her smartphone on the nightstand.
“Go ahead and inform Lehm and the rest of the squad that their precious princess is awake and full of energy. I’ll make the call to my brother myself.”
“Understood, Koko!” Valmet bowed flawlessly, her expression bright and completely rejuvenated now that her master was safe.
She turned and marched out of the suite to rally the troops.
Left alone in the quiet room, Koko unlocked her smartphone.
The device felt subtly heavier, humming with a faint, indestructible current.
She ignored her standard notifications and tapped the newly added app, the foundations icon.
The application bloomed into view, quickly navigating it and showing the five global beacons pulsing across the digital earth.
Her eyes locked onto the yellow beacon blinking aggressively over New Cairo, Egypt.
Before she could place the call to Kasper, a notification banner flashed at the top of the interface.
___
[NEW SYSTEM MESSAGING LOG DETECTED]
FROM: O5-1 (THE REINCARNATOR)
TO: ALL COUNCIL MEMBERS
…
___
Koko leaned back against the headboard, a sharp, calculating grin slowly spreading across her pale face as she read Yuki’s UTC+8 misdirection.
“Using an East Asian time-sync while we are sitting in the Middle East and Europe… how delightfully sneaky, O5-1,” she whispered to herself, her playful giggle echoing in the empty room.
“Let’s see what kind of a storm this SCP is going to kick up.”