The night air was quiet.
Ren stepped onto the empty street, the faint glow of streetlights stretching his shadow across the ground.
In his hand, the game case Marin had given him reflected a small glint of light.
"…Research," he muttered.
Then—
He stopped walking.
Without hesitation, Ren raised his hand.
The space in front of him distorted.
A thin crack appeared in reality, like glass under pressure.
Then it widened.
A portal.
Beyond it—
Darkness.
Endless, silent, and deep.
Ren stepped through.
The moment he crossed over—
He had entered his domain, the dimension known as SCP-001 — Keter Duty.
There was no sky.
No sun.
Only an endless, controlled expanse shaped entirely by his will.
Ren walked forward calmly.
"…Space-201."
The moment the words left his mouth—
The environment shifted.
Darkness peeled away.
Structure formed.
A vast facility emerged from nothingness.
Cold.
Orderly.
Endless.
Rows upon rows of containment chambers stretched into the horizon.
Each one identical.
Each one sealed.
This was Dimensional Space-201.
A designated containment sector.
Each chamber was built to hold humanoid entities.
Each sector was carefully calibrated.
Each detail refined.
This single dimensional space alone had the size of a continent.
And Ren still had 218 dimensional spaces.
Ren walked through the corridor.
His footsteps echoed faintly.
The lights above flickered on one by one as he passed.
Then he arrived at the containment zone of the two fake priests, each having their own chamber.
Arriving in front of the chamber, Ren opened it and walked inside.
The fake priest was already strapped to the chair. In front of it was a table, and above it hung a flickering lightbulb.
The style was very similar to an interrogation room you would find in a film.
"You know… I've been thinking about how to make you talk. Should I use torture? Should I pry your secrets by talking in circles?"
"Then… I have a better idea."
Ren walked toward the priest, who remained silent, though the anger on his face was unmistakable.
Without another word, Ren conjured a knife in his hand.
Then—
Slash—
A shallow cut appeared on the priest's shoulder.
The priest glared at him in disgust.
Is this your 'better idea'? Just a small cut?
Ren didn't respond.
He only smiled.
Then, he took out a small green box, decorated with a simple drawing of bandages on its surface.
"Well then," Ren said casually, placing it on the table, "I'll leave this here for you."
"I'll be seeing you tomorrow…"
"…have fun."
With that, Ren turned and left the room.
The chamber door closed behind him with a soft, final click.
Silence returned.
The restraints released automatically.
The priest slowly moved his arm, glancing at the cut on his shoulder.
Nothing.
No pain.
No burning.
No poison.
"…Tch."
He let out a short, mocking laugh.
"Is that all?"
But then—
His gaze shifted.
Toward the green box.
He paused For a moment, he didn't move.
Didn't think, Didn't question.
Then—
As if it were the most natural thing in the world—
He reached out.
Opened the box and Took out a bandage then carefully applied it to his wound.
His movements were smooth and Unquestioning.
As if this was exactly what he was supposed to do.
Too bad—
He didn't know what SCP-690 was.
One minute passed and A faint sting spread across the wound.
Five minutes and The sting deepened...Sharper.
Ten minutes and It felt like needles were being pushed into his shoulder.
Over and over again.
The priest's expression slowly changed.
"…What is—"
The pain didn't stop and It didn't increase rapidly.
It simply—Continued, Relentless, Like something quietly reminding him—
That it was still there and it would not go away.
========
After leaving the SCP-001 Keter Duty, Ren teleported back home, still holding the game Marin had given him in his hand.
It was only 7 PM, and with plenty of time left in the night, he naturally decided to continue his so-called "research," showing no hesitation as he prepared everything and settled in to play.
As he was about to start, however, a faint sense of unease crossed his mind, causing him to pause for a moment.
"…Why do I feel like I forgot something?" he muttered under his breath, his brows knitting slightly as he tried to recall whatever it was.
After thinking about it for a few seconds without any result, he simply shook his head and dismissed the thought altogether.
"…If I forgot about it, then it probably wasn't important anyway," Ren concluded casually, before proceeding to start the game without any further concern.
Time passed quietly.
Before he realized it, three hours had gone by, during which he had already completed several routes, yet the images, dialogues, and scenes from the game continued to linger vividly in his mind, refusing to fade even after he stepped away from the screen.
Feeling the need to clear his head, Ren stood up and walked toward the bathroom, turning on the faucet and splashing cold water onto his face, letting the sensation ground his thoughts.
However, just as he lifted his head and looked into the mirror, something suddenly clicked in his mind.
"…Wait," he said, his expression freezing for a brief moment as realization began to surface.
Without wasting any time, he spoke again, his tone turning more focused.
"System, pull out the description of SCP-067 — The Artist's Pen."
[SCP-067 — The Artist's Pen (Anomalous Rank: Stable-Class)]
Description: SCP-067 is a fountain pen produced by the German company Pelikan sometime between World War I and World War II. Despite lacking an ink reservoir, the pen never runs out of ink.
Subjects holding SCP-067 lose control over the hand that grips it, causing the pen to automatically write a detailed biography of the holder. It has also been observed to produce intricate works of art, even if the subject has no prior artistic ability.
As the description finished displaying, silence filled the room for a brief moment, while Ren stood there staring at his reflection, as if processing something painfully obvious.
"…Ah… right," he murmured slowly.
A short pause followed.
"…Why did I waste my time trying to get answers out of those fake priests?" he said, his tone carrying a faint hint of annoyance at his own oversight.
Straightening up, Ren let out a quiet breath before continuing, "I could have just made them hold the pen, and it would have controlled their hands to write down everything they've experienced."
Another moment of silence passed.
"…That would have been much faster."
Without any hesitation, Ren immediately turned around and walked out, no longer interested in wasting even a second.
A moment later, the space in front of him distorted once again, forming a familiar crack that quickly expanded into a portal, leading directly back to the containment area within his domain.
Stepping through it without pause, Ren reappeared in front of the containment chamber belonging to the same fake priest he had shown "kindness" to three hours earlier.
However, before he even reached for the door—
He heard it.
From inside the chamber came screams filled with agony, their tone fractured and unstable, as if the one producing them had long since crossed the line between pain and madness.
The sound echoed faintly through the otherwise silent space, making the contrast even more unsettling.
Ren paused for a brief moment, listening.
"…That sounds unpleasant," he remarked casually, his expression remaining unchanged despite the intensity of the screams.
If anything, he seemed more thoughtful than concerned.
"…The bandages worked better than I expected," he added, almost as if making a simple observation rather than acknowledging someone's suffering.
As the screams continued without stopping, Ren stood there for another second, before finally reaching out his hand toward the chamber door.
Opening the door, what greeted him was something that barely resembled a human anymore. The priest's body had twisted into a grotesque, human-shaped caterpillar, wriggling on the floor while screaming in pain as he scratched frantically at his entire body.
Seeing this, Ren felt goosebumps rise along his arms. However, the moment he remembered that this very group had tried to release such a monster into a public park, the brief discomfort in his chest quickly turned into cold indifference.
With a wave of his hand, the priest suddenly froze. His writhing body lifted from the floor and was forced into a chair, a table appearing neatly in front of him as if the room had been prepared for interrogation.
The priest stared at Ren with horror, fear, and anger mixed in his eyes.
Ren, however, paid it no attention.
Instead, he calmly took out SCP-067 — The Artist's Pen along with a sheet of paper and placed them on the table. With a slight motion of his hand, he forced the priest to grab the pen.
The moment the priest held it, control over his hand vanished.
The pen immediately began moving, rapidly writing across the paper as it started recording everything about him.
Ren watched for a moment to make sure it had started properly, then turned around and left the chamber.
Without wasting any more time, he returned home through a portal and headed straight to his bedroom.
Tomorrow, he would read what the pen had written.
For now—
He went to sleep.
===The Next day===
"System, sign-in."
[Ding! Congratulations, host, for signing in! You have received: SCP-458 — Never-Ending Pizza.]
[Please choose whether to summon the SCP or receive its traits.]
"Woah… that's actually a pretty good reward. So lucky!"
Ren looked at the reward with a satisfied expression.
Why lucky, you may ask?
Mainly because—
[SCP-458 — Never-Ending Pizza (Anomalous Rank: Authority-Class)]
[Description: SCP-458 is a pizza delivery box that generates a new pizza with toppings based on the opener's current craving every time the box is opened, giving it an effectively unlimited supply of pizza.]
"Heh… what a misleading description."
"While it's true the main anomalous trait is producing infinite pizza, the real interesting part is actually the pizza box itself."
Ren smirked slightly.
"After all… this pizza box is indestructible."
"I could literally use it as a shield."
He imagined it for a moment and chuckled.
"Blocking someone's attack with a pizza box… I wonder if their brain could even process what just happened."
He shrugged.
"Anyway, system, I choose to summon SCP-458."
The moment he finished speaking, a pizza box suddenly appeared in front of him.
Ren opened it.
Inside lay a freshly baked pepperoni pizza, still warm, with the smell of melted cheese filling the room.
Without hesitation, he grabbed a slice.
"Guess this will be breakfast."
If his parents were here, his ass would probably be bright red by now.
After all—
Who eats pizza for breakfast?
[Name: Ren Aion]
[Summoned SCPs] SCP-067 — The Artist's Pen, SCP-005 — The Skeleton Key, SCP-458 — Never-Ending Pizza
[Anomalous Traits] The Red Sun (SCP-001-1 & SCP-002 fusion) Patchwork (SCP-2295) Reality Bender (SCP-2030) The Missing Number (SCP-033) Keter Duty (SCP-001-4) Critical Tomatoes (SCP-504)
[Anomalous Rank: Paradox-Class]