"Fizzed? What the hell is that? What even is this thing popping up in front of my face? Some kind of hologram interface?"
As if responding to his thoughts, the screen instantly flickered into life again—a string of blue text pulsed inside the floating blue hologram display.
[System Active]
[Affirmative. SCP-Fizzed, classified as SCP-O-010 is currently active.]
Sam flinched, startled by the sudden message. The words hovered in the air—there's no sound, no voice, but "it" answered him as if alive.
He stumbled backward a step, eyes still locked on the floating screen.
"Wh-what are you?! Are you inside my head? Wait, hold on—what's going on here?? What's this Fizzed thing? And you, system something?, are you my imagination?? Oh no, am I losing my marbles right now?!"
Sam clutched his head in a dramatic flair, he's beginning to believe the stress is starting to get him now and made him delusional.
There was a delay after his rapid fire questions, but then a different message appeared not long after.
[Answering Host Query...]
[Initiating Protocol 001-OS]
[Hello, Host. I am your designated "System." Your origin universe: ##### — ERROR. Data locked.
Higher classification required.]
[Reinitializing... Partial Success.]
[I am assigned for your survival, Host. SCP-O-100 — colloquially referred to as The Blip has made contact with Host.
Result: Anomalous ontological displacement.
Summary: You were not meant to arrive here, and yet here you are regardless.]
Sam ran a hand through his hair in disbelief, eyes wide open and unfocused. His mind scrambled to catch up with the sudden flux of infoy, bits of the message were gibberish and some still he doesn't quite understand yet at the moment—but he caught just enough to feel the weight of it.
"Ontological displacement...? What even is that word? Am I like relocated somewhere??" He muttered in bewilderment, genuinely confused. "Where am I then? A different country? Different region?"
The system responded immediately.
[Processing Query...]
[Response: Negative. You are no longer in your origin world. Similarities detected.
Current Location: Kediri City.
Planet: ERROR.
Further data acquisition required.]
[New Mission Received]
•Main Mission: Survive.
•Side Mission: Gather information about your current environment. (New!)
Sam let out a long shaky breath, his pulse pounded in his ears.
"Okay, let me get this straight—i got pulled somewhere into some kind of alternate world? That's... Insane—no, it's batshit crazy. Isn't this kind of stuff only exist in sci-fi??"
"Alright..." Sam swallow bard, heart drumming against his ribs. "I'm going to ask you again... Where. Am. I?"
The system paused for a moment, then...
[Processing...]
[Analyzing. Searching for acceptable response... One result found. Executing contingency.]
[Origin universe: inaccessible.]
[Based on limited database alignment, this universe corresponds to the fictional construct known in your origin world as...]
[The SCP Universe ]
[Attempting dimensional subclass identification...]
[ERROR. ERROR. ERROR.]
[Host classification insufficient. Data access restricted.]
[New Mission Received]
•Side Mission: Upgrade Host Classification. (New!) (Repeatable)
Sam stood in place, frozen—like someone just pour a bucket full of cold water on him. His ears rang, his mouth went dry.
"SCP...?" He whispered in horror, he knew that word, and he knew what that meant.
'Secure. Contain. Protect. Dangerous things in boxes. People trying to understand horrors that shouldn't ever exist. A fiction, it was something nothing more than a fiction—a mere fantasy born from imagination. But if this system telling the truth... Then this isn't a dream, i'm not in a coma, and i'm definitely not hallucinating.'
'if I'm really inside the world of SCPs... that means...'
"Fuck, I'm cooked." Sam muttered flatly as his expression fell ashen.
His legs wobbled as the feeling of weakness enveloping him, he sat heavily on the barstool behind him, his body shivering.
"I can't deny it can I? No matter how insane it all seemed.... The puzzle pieces seemed to clicked into place now."
Sam looked down on his hand, "This blood stain from the hellhole is the proved of it." muttered in disbelief and fear.
No matter how much he twisted the facts and logic for the situation he's in right now, he knew that at this point it's useless to prove the cold reality otherwise.
The memories came rushing back at him like a tidal waves, everything he'd ever read or heard about SCPs. Stories, experiments, creatures, concepts that rewrote physics or even the very fabric of reality itself.
He'd read them out of boredom in the time where there was a worldwide pandemics going on all over the world, he didn't do it because he's a fan who's dedicated memorizing all of the SCP lore. He knew some of the famous ones such as SCP-682, SCP-173, SCP-096. But beyond that wall? He was no expert, not even close.
"I'm not a researcher nor even a soldier, I'm just a normal guy..."
"What the hell am I supposed to do in a world like this?!"
Cold sweat formed on his back as terrible chills ran down his spine. If this version of the SCP universe was one of those—the one doomed to perish from apocalyptic anomalies like SCP-001 "When Day Breaks" then no matter what he did, no matter how clever or prepared he tried to be, his odds of survival against it were zero.
Not slim. None.
"System..." Sam swallowed the lump in his throat. "Do you really not know which scp universe this is? Please tell me you know. Please..." Sam begged the system.
[Affirmative.]
[The information the host request requires higher classification access—]
"DON'T MESS WITH ME!!!" Sam shouted, slamming his hand down on the bar in anger and frustration. The sound cracked through the silence.
The water bottle he'd set down earlier trembled, then tipped over from the impact.
And the second it hi the ground...
Fizz... Fizz... Fizz...
The plastic began to warped and stretch to its very limits, bubbling as though it was boiling from the inside out and ready to explode at any moment.
"Crap!" Sam's eyes widened, his instincts screamed at him to move—and so he immediately dove behind the bar for cover.
And then—
BOOM!!!
The bottle exploded like a mini frag grenade. Shards of plastic flew in the air, a nearby chair cracked and splintered in half, and the tiles where it landed were scorched and steaming.
Sam peeked over the edge, panting in shock. "What the hell was that!? That was just a water bottle!"
[SCP-O-010 "Fizzed" is classified as a reactive chemical anomaly,]
The system chimed.
[When activated, exposure to water—consumed or disturbed may trigger explosive reactions.
Drinking or making direct contact with water Is strongly discouraged.]
Sam stared at the smoking crater, mouth slightly agape. His gaze shifted to the splintered table, bunch of debris everywhere.
Then slowly, silently, he walked over to one of the sofas and collapsed onto it. His body hit the cushions like dead weight.
"Hah..." He didn't close his eyes to sleep, he just... Couldn't bear to look at the world anymore at this moment, not right now.
He whispered without strength, "System... Can I go home?"
There was a pause, then a mechanical hum echoed in his head.
[Processing... Searching database... Attempting extraplanar trace...]
[Result: UNKNOWN]
[Currently, there is no information available in the database about returning to your origin universe.]
Sam lifted his arm to cover his tired face, his hand shaking. Tears slid past the corner of his eyes, dripping silently toward the floor.
No sob. No wails.
Just the trembling of an almost broken man. Raw, quiet grief.
'I miss them... My family... My siblings... My mom... If I'm not there, how will they survive? They need me. And god knows... I need them. They were my anchor, my reason to keep going.'
Sam's chest rose and fell, unsteady. His voice cracked, "Damn it all... Damn it all to hell..."
#########################
Far away, somewhere else in Kediri City.
A low growl echoed under the moonlight. A pack of something hunched over the remains of a body, red meat glistening under the street lamps. One creature gnawed on a chunk of human rib.
Then—
The one in the back of the pack suddenly stopped. Its head snapped upward, ears perked, and muscles tensed up. It turned toward the direction of an unsuspecting diner place.
And it growled, long, low, and filled with predatory intent.
BEEP.
BEEP.
BEEP.
A sharp grating sound ripped through his head, like some noisy and rowdy alarms inside his skull. It's loud, mechanical, and impossibly intrusive.
Sam bolted upright with a groan, his body felt way more heavier than before. His eyes stung from tears, his throat was dry as sandpaper, and he looked like hell.
Disheveled hair, puffy eyes, blood and grime mixed with his sweat, sticking on him uncomfortably. But he decided to not care about, not in the state he's in right now.
[Time elapsed: One hour, Five minutes, and thirty four seconds.]
[Host's vitals have stabilized, temporary recovery achieved.]
Sam's head snapped toward the voice in his mind. "Recovery? Did you say recovery!? Are you insa—"
[Affirmative.]
The system fast response immediately cutting through Sam's words.
[Current condition supports mobility, continued residence is not recommended.]
Sam groaned and slumped forward on the couch, hands tiredly dragging down his face.
"Where? Where am I suppose to go, huh? I don't even know where the hell this place is—and you're not exactly helping!"
[Relocation advised.]
The system answered flatly, as if pointing the obvious to a numbskull.
A soft ping suddenly echoed.
[New Mission Received]
•Side Missions:
>Gather information about your current environment. (New!)
>Host Classification Upgrade. (New!) (Repeatable)
>Seek safe location to settle in for a while. (New!)
Sam hands immediately swatted at the floating holograms like they were annoying flies. "Yeah, yeah! I get it! Move somewhere else, fine!"
He sighed, leaning back and rubbing his temples. "...Can you at least tell me why I have to move?"
[Affirmative.]
[During your rest, I continued data acquisition. Analysis indicates this location will become high risk within the next cycle.]
Sam narrowed his eyes, and suddenly he got a feeling deep in his gut he won't like the thing he's about to know next. "What data?"
[Say: System Notification.]
He paused for a couple of seconds, then muttered under his breath. "...System Notification."
[System Notification]
•Data acquisition of SCP-O-010 "Fizzed" complete.
•Remnants of SCP-O-100 "The Blip" still detected on host.
•New signature detected nearby: SCP-O-020 "Roghul"— Data acquisition in progress.
"Hm...? Roghul...? I never heard of that SCP before..." Sam wonder as he rubbed his chin, curious about what this thing might be.
He tapped one of the entries with his finger. The system expanded the file like unfolding a holographic datasheet—and began displaying the info in crisp, sterile detail.
He scrolled through the Fizzed entry first, at least now he knows what he's dealing with and not flailing around in the dark.
[•SCP-0-010 "Fizzed"
Classification: Reactive Chemical Hazard.
Appearance: A smooth white round candy no bigger than 5 cm.
Summary: Fluids within its radius may become unstable, exhibiting violent hyper carbonation for 3-12 hours at maximum. Ingestion of fluids within proximity (150 meters) during its active state = fatal. Physical contact = risk of explosive detonation. Anomalous effect intensity "might" vary with exposure duration.
An attempt to consume the said candy is not recommended due to unpredictable outcome, most likely than not—the person will bleed out from every orifices in his/her body and expand to the absolute limit before exploding into pieces.
System Note: Fatalities in vicinity of diner are consistent with Fizzed activation. Mortality certainty: 99,9%]
Sam's stomach twisted. He let the screen hover there in the air for a moment, then muttered:
"So, I almost died from a damn candy? Literally not even a day has passed after arriving in this hellhole and this bullshit happened? Great. Fantastic. What a five star experience." Sam let out a shaky laugh. He feels like if he didn't laugh, he'd start crying again and he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop the second time.