Dr. Gears' calm voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
Everyone fell silent.
Not just in the Foundation. Not just the live broadcast room. Not just the council chambers of the two universes currently watching from their respective command centers.
But across both entire worlds.
Dr. Clef blinked twice in disbelief.
Dr. Bright leaned forward, jaw slack.
Even Jas, who had maintained a professional deanor throughout the entire event, was visibly stunned.
"Ride 682?"
He whispered the words like a curse.
Was this so kind of joke?
And then—
The livestream exploded.
"WHAT?! Am I hallucinating or did Gears just say RIDE 682???"
"Soone tell I didn't just hear that... please."
"682?! Keter-class extinction-level lizard god?? Dr. Kondraki has finally lost it!"
"Bro out here doing side quests like it's Red Dead Redemption."
"No joke, these people belong in the anomaly wing themselves!"
Even the agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., who had been suppressing laughter during Kondraki's last stunt, stopped smiling.
Their expressions twisted from amusent to sothing closer to horror.
Nick Fury stared hard at the screen, his eye narrowing.
Everyone in the room knew what SCP-682 was.
A living, immortal nightmare.
The "Hard-to-Destroy Reptile."
A Keter-class nightmare entity that had survived more termination attempts than any other anomaly in Foundation history.
Entire Mobile Task Forces had been wiped out.
Cities had nearly been flattened.
Even SCP-076-2, the infamous immortal warrior known as Abel, had failed to kill it.
And now—according to Dr. Gears—Dr. Kondraki had planned to ride it like a horse?
Fury muttered to himself, "If Gears wasn't kidding... then Kondraki had this insane plan from the very beginning?"
Back on-screen, the implications of Gears' revelation were settling in.
Clef sat there, visibly processing the words. He muttered under his breath, "This absolute maniac..."
Then, like a dam breaking, he burst out: "This goddamn lunatic!!"
Before anyone could respond, the feed changed again.
The old man's voice returned.
Calm. Cold. Final.
"At this mont, Command Center Base-19 has made the decision to completely isolate floors 7 through 15 of Area-3. From top to bottom. Full lockdown."
There was an audible hush in both worlds.
"With SCP-682 on the loose, SCP-083 still active, and Dr. Kondraki alive… we expect the three to continue attempting to destroy each other."
"Once we confirm significant weakening of all combatants, retrieval teams will move in. Until then, they are to be left to battle."
He paused.
Took several deep breaths.
Then added in a voice laced with repressed fury:
"If anyone here ever again proposes this sort of reckless strategy, I would personally recomnd the use of nuclear weapons instead."
Everyone watching the stream was stunned.
The Foundation hated Dr. Kondraki that much?
Even Victor Hale, standing beside Jas in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s New York command center, exhaled slowly. "I've heard of burning bridges, but this guy is digging tunnels under them with dynamite."
The cara feed returned.
Dr. Kondraki, disheveled and panting, appeared in view.
He sprinted down a shredded corridor, barely dodging a flash of movent.
SWISH!
A claw swept across the fra.
682 had arrived.
"DAMMIT—!" Kondraki shouted, narrowly dodging the attack.
And then, like a shimring mirage, a swarm of butterflies exploded around him.
He vanished into the fluttering chaos just as 682's massive claws ca down—hard.
BOOM!
They missed and hit a reinforced alloy wall, slicing through it like tissue paper.
682 paused.
Its prey was gone.
It turned—and saw the Duke standing frozen across the hall.
There was a visible gulp.
On-screen, chat ssages raced past like bullets:
"Oh no… poor Duke."
"He was just here to kill a doctor, not die by Godzilla's angry cousin!"
"He just got UNO reversed by fate."
Before the Duke could react, 682 roared—a brutal, ancient sound that shook the entire cara.
Then it lunged.
BOOM!!
It struck the Duke like a battering ram, sending him flying back into a broken containnt wall.
What followed was a display of pure, brutal savagery.
This wasn't supernatural trickery.
No warping of physics. No mind control.
Just raw biological destruction.
Flesh tore. Bones cracked. Screams echoed.
And blood splattered across the shattered compound.
682, a walking apocalypse, launched strike after strike. Every blow should've ended the fight.
But the Duke, cursed with near-limitless vitality, fought back.
Claws t fists. Teeth t muscle. It was like watching two primordial titans from Earth's origin.
The livestream chat went insane:
"THIS IS THE BEST FIGHT EVER!"
"Who needs ani when you have THIS?!"
"Forget the Avengers. Give Kondraki's League of Psychos!"
But even amidst the chaos, one truth beca clear:
The Duke could not win.
He had strength. He had resilience.
But 682 had immortality.
For every wound the Duke inflicted, 682 regenerated within seconds—sotis even mid-strike.
The Duke? Not so lucky.
He faltered.
And 682 took full advantage.
"Wait—he's trying to say sothing???"
The Duke, breathless and bloodied, raised a hand. "Wait… I don't… I don't want to—"
But 682 didn't care.
SWOOSH!
In an instant, it lunged forward again.
This ti, it grabbed the Duke.
CRUNCH!!
The sound was sickening.
It tore off both of the Duke's arms.
Then one of his legs.
Screams echoed through the chamber.
Before the Duke could even attempt to regenerate, 682 smashed him into a wall like a rag doll.
And then—
It opened its jaws wide.
"No... no, no, no—!" the Duke wailed.
GULP.
Just like that, SCP-682 swallowed the Duke whole.
The chat froze.
Even the agents in S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't look away.
Fury muttered: "Holy hell."
Jas stood speechless.
Victor Hale just muttered, "That's... a new one."
But 682 wasn't done.
With a strange pause, the immortal lizard reared up on its hind legs.
Like a stallion.
And then—
From behind the scene, erging like a scene from a fever dream…
Dr. Kondraki burst out of the shadows and leapt onto its back.
The chat erupted:
"NO WAY. NO. WAY."
"IS HE—RIDING IT???"
"DR. KONFUCKINGDRAKI HAS TAD THE LIZARD."
Kondraki raised one arm in triumph.
"HYAH!" he shouted, slapping 682's hide like a cowboy breaking a wild mustang.
The immortal reptile, as if recognizing him, let out a roar and charged down the corridor—with Kondraki riding it like a warlord on a prehistoric tank.
Dr. Clef, watching from the Foundation command hub, had only one word:
"…Insane."
And sowhere, behind layers of secured caras, Dr. Gears simply smiled faintly.
To be continued...
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