Appearing in a corner of the Foundation, a man in his twenties emerges.
A man with black, somewhat long and slightly unkempt hair, with a grown beard framing his face. He wears a black trench coat that falls naturally over his body, while a relaxed smile gives him a calm, almost carefree air.
The moment he appears, before he can even take in his surroundings, deafening alarms erupt.
WARNING. UNAUTHORIZED ENTITY DETECTED.
"Oh..."
At such an explosive welcome, he immediately turns invisible, erasing his presence entirely.
Moments later, a military squad enters the room in a precise formation.
Covering every angle, the Mobile Task Force squad leader begins issuing orders.
"No target spotted. Two and three, deploy night and thermal vision. Four, deploy a reality anchor. Five, hold position."
Without hesitation, the assigned soldiers begin scanning the room.
"No target spotted.""No target spotted.""Reality anchor deployed."
Unaware of what stands right in front of him, the squad leader—Carl—continues observing.
A man waves a hand inches from his face.
"Hello."
No response.
"Can't even hear me? Good."
Rob casually walks past them and heads for the door.
As Carl considers what kind of anomaly has breached the facility, the door behind them suddenly slides open, startling the entire squad.
"Open fire."
Without hesitation, the squad turns and fires at the entrance.
Not even the access panel is spared.
RAT-TAT-TAT
CRACK
Sparks fly as bullets tear into the electrical panel.
After a full magazine, silence returns—broken only by the sound of weapons reloading.
Carl advances carefully, scanning for blood, tissueanything to confirm the entity's presence.
Nothing.
Only spent casings scattered across the floor.
From Rob's perspective, the bullets had passed straight through him, as if he were immaterial.
It was the first time anyone had fired at him. He had been startled, but now, realizing he was unharmed, he relaxed.
He glances at them once… then simply walks away.
As Carl and his squad continue searching, a door further down the corridor opens on its own.
"...It's ignoring us. Keep following."
While issuing orders, Carl reports the situation to his superiors. For now, he has no way to contain the anomaly.
And so, an almost absurd scene unfolds within the rigid structure of the Foundation—
A squad of highly trained soldiers, tense and alert…chasing a series of doors opening one after another.
After several unsuccessful attempts to at least interact with the entity, the squad receives orders to try communicating or reasoning with it.
"I know you can hear us, please wait a moment."
Carl's tense voice echoes through the corridor, and after a few seconds, the squad notices the doors are no longer opening.
"If you can understand us, open the door behind us. If not, stay silent."
...
No response.
"I repeat, if you—"
Before Carl can finish, he feels something touch his back.
He immediately turns around, aiming his weapon.
"Show yourself! Stop playing tricks!"
The entire squad tenses up. New anomalies can wipe out entire squads—or not harm a single person. No one knows what this thing can do.
"Hello, gentlemen."
A relaxed voice echoes through the room, making the already tense situation worse, with every soldier's finger resting on the trigger.
"Please show yourself."
While scanning the room, Carl responds to the mysterious voice.
"Sure."
The moment the voice finishes speaking, Rob appears in front of the team.
And their trusty leader, Carl, is cursing internally.
'Fuck my life… another humanoid sentient anomaly. They're the most unpredictable of all.'
"Sir, this is a restricted zone. Please follow us to the interrogation room."
"Sure, but can you stop pointing those at me? You must know by now your weapons are useless… but if they make you feel safe, just ignore me."
'Good… at least he's cooperating.'
"It's protocol, sir. Please follow us."
Carl jerks his head toward squad member five, signaling him to lead.
Squad member five nods and walks toward the door.
Rob follows, casually looking around.
The place is… exactly like how the game depicted it. Completely plain, and well… secure.
Every corridor is painted white, with some black details.
"Hey, squad leader, what's your name?"
Bored, Rob tries to talk to Carl.
... Silence.
"Nothing? Fine, I'll call you Bob. That was my name before, you know? sigh"
Not bothered, Rob keeps talking.
"How many SCPs does this place have? I bet thousands."
Carl flinches slightly when he hears the term "SCP."
'He knows more than we thought.'
"Sir, please remain silent. Until we reach the interrogation room, anything you say can be used against you."
"Where are we, a court? Can I call a lawyer?"
The corner of Carl's eye twitches with annoyance.
"I'm here on a tourist trip, you know? It's the famous Foundation! Everyone knows about it… well, not here, but you get it, right?"
'Please stop talking like this is a vacation…'
Carl screams internally, maintaining a serious expression.
Five minutes later—and with Carl about to snap—they finally reach the interrogation room.
After dropping off the annoying anomaly, Carl immediately leaves to report, almost running before Rob can say another word, leaving his squad behind to guard the room.
Inside, there are only two chairs and a table. A typical interrogation room, but with military-level security.
Rob takes a seat, waiting for the interesting conversation with the charismatic people who always interview SCPs.
—
In the command room, Carl finishes his report. His next assignment is, obviously: "Protect the researcher interviewing the anomaly."
With a sigh, already bracing himself, he heads back.
Meanwhile, multiple cameras with different filters are focused on Rob in the interrogation room, tracking his every movement.
—
Back with Rob, he is getting bored when finally his good friend "Bob" and a researcher enter the room.
"Hey Bob! Long time no see. And who's this?"
"Dr. Jack Bright. Nice to meet you. I won't shake your hand—we don't know what would happen if we make contact."
Taking a seat, Bright introduces himself.
"Hello, Dr. Bright. Don't worry, I know the procedures. It's nice you're here—I was getting bored."
"Do you know my friend Bob? He's a nice but quiet guy."
Rob points at Carl, who is now pretending to be a statue.
"Sorry, sir—"
"Rob. My name is Rob."
"Alright, Rob. That guy's name is Carl."
Gasp
"Sorry, Bob. I didn't get your name right, but you'll always be Bob to me."
'That's nice. The floor is made of floor.'
Carl, now intensely analyzing the floor to distract himself, ignores the comment.
"...continuing, Rob. I'm here because you breached the Foundation and have… quite an interesting form of invisibility."
"Ah, don't worry. I'm just here as a tourist. Also—want one?"
A soda appears out of thin air in Rob's hand.
"...Is it safe?"
"I… think so? I made it based on popular brands."
"Good enough."
Bright takes the soda and starts thinking.
'Creation and invisibility… let's see what else.'
"It's refreshing. Thanks. Now—what do you mean by 'tourist'?"
"As it sounds. I died, got reincarnated, received some ridiculously overpowered ability, and now I'm traveling the world."
"...Let me get this straight. You died? Literally?"
"Yeah. A truck crushed me."
"And then you reincarnated?"
"Yep. Met an overworked god, got powers, and boom—here I am."
Piecing together the information, Bright starts thinking.
'If this is true… there may be more like him. And gods… not that we haven't seen them, but this sounds different.'
"And what is your purpose on this… trip, Mr. Rob?"
"Exploring. Meeting SCPs. Traveling."
"It seems you know quite a lot about us."
"Yeah. In my previous world, we had stories—comics, novels—and one of them was about a Foundation that secures anomalies called SCPs. So… yeah. Multiverse theory confirmed."
"Fascinating."
Bright smiles, already thinking about the implications… and something more personal.
"Also, you exist in those stories, Dr. Bright."
"Oh? And what do they say about me?"
"A chaotic guy who'd fight anyone over a Pokémon GO gym."
"Haha! Sounds accurate."
Bright laughs, then gestures at Carl.
"Then why isn't Carl mentioned?"
Carl perks up slightly.
"...He's not. Probably just 'Soldier #'."
Bright smirks. Carl dies internally.
"So… let's continue. This might sound intrusive, but can you tell us about your abilities?"
"Ah, right… I'm an SCP now. Dream achieved… maybe? Anyway—"
He starts listing.
"Invisibility. Teleportation. Invulnerability. Creation… anything, really."
"..."
"Time control. Reality bending… basically everything."
Bright counts at least fifty abilities.
'Fuck. Another 343.'
"...Can I ask something?"
"Sure."
"...Can you grant me true death?"
Silence.
"I can."
"..."
Bright laughs softly.
Hope.
—
Carl clears his throat, trying to bring the situation back under control.
"Dr. Bright… I don't think this is the time for—"
"Quiet."
Carl shuts up immediately.
Bright leans forward slightly, his eyes locked on Rob.
"...We'll continue that later."
Rob shrugs.
"Sure. I'm not going anywhere… well, I could, but I won't."
"...Reassuring."
Bright takes another sip of his soda before continuing.
"So, as of now, there's no way to contain you, correct?"
"Correct. I mean, you can try, but I don't think it'll work."
"...That will be up to the higher-ups."
'I hope they dont screw this up'
A brief pause.
"Next question. Do you intend to destroy or conquer the world?"
Rob raises an eyebrow.
"Why would I do that? That sounds boring."
He leans back slightly.
"Do you know how much paperwork it takes to run the world? And then what? Sit on a throne forever?"
"..."
"And destroying it? Really? I literally said I'm on a tourist trip. What's the point of sightseeing a ruined world?"
Bright nods.
"Fair enough."
"Also—"
—
The interview continues for nearly two hours.
—
"And that concludes the interview. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Rob."
"Finally. So… what now?"
Bright smiles.
"Now you decide. Will you continue your… trip, or should we prepare accommodations for you here?"
Rob tilts his head slightly.
"...You're letting me stay?"
"At the moment, you are not considered hostile."
A small pause.
"And it's easier to keep track of you this way."
"Fair."
Rob stretches slightly.
"Then yeah, I'll stay for a bit. Just give me an empty room—I'll handle the rest."
"Understood."
Bright turns slightly.
"We'll need confirmation from command first."
"Can you create food?"
Rob smirks.
"Yeah. What do you want?"
Bright thinks for a second.
"...Another soda. And a burger. With fries."
Rob rolls his eyes.
"You're really taking advantage of this already."
With a small gesture, the food appears on the table.
Bright nods.
"Efficient. I like it."
He unwraps the burger.
"Want some, Carl?"
Carl doesn't respond.
"...I'll take that as a no."
The quiet sound of eating fills the room.
Crunch.
...
A few minutes later, a voice comes through the intercom.
"Dr. Bright, command has approved temporary accommodation. Subject is to be assigned Room 54-A."
"Perfect."
Bright stands up.
"Alright, Rob. Let's get you settled."
Rob stands as well.
"Nice. Lead the way."
Without wasting time, both of them walk out of the room, Carl and the squad following behind.
'Looks like this tourist trip won't have any problems after all.'