The Marvel universe's live broadcast room fell into stunned silence.
The colossal creature from monts ago—so towering and surreal it defied natural laws—was now chewing on the spider-like corpse of SCP-3125, the very embodint of conceptual destruction.
> "Wait... what is that thing?"
> "A secret beast? Weren't they supposed to be extinct?"
> "Is it eating... spider legs? No—wait, is that SCP-3125's corpse?!"
> "The hell?! That thing is not only alive, it's feeding on the Supre Godhead's remains?!"
> "And it's... invisible to humans? Is it even real?"
Shocked murmurs flooded the stream. Agents, sorcerers, even cosmic observers were paralyzed by the sight.
Until the cara panned back—
And Jas appeared again, calm, clean-cut, and almost... casual.
The setting had shifted. They were back at Site-17, the Foundation's primary center for low-risk humanoid SCPs.
Suddenly, the world felt a little less nightmarish.
And when Jas walked into the cafeteria with Zyn and Lois, there was an almost codic sense of whiplash. After all the existential horror, they were just... getting lunch?
Even the audience laughed nervously. Was this real?
Lois squinted at Jas, tilting her head.
"You guys... Where the hell did you go?" she asked. "And why do you look younger now?!"
Zyn raised an eyebrow too. "You're glowing, man. Did you take a vacation inside a cosmic anomaly or sothing?"
Jas didn't answer. He simply took a sip from his glass.
Lois, sensing the awkward tension, changed the topic fast. "Hey! You heard? The Foundation's talking about starting a new departnt."
Zyn leaned forward, curious. "New departnt?"
"Yeah, I think it's called the Concept Departnt or sothing." Lois scratched her head. "Supposed to deal with, like, anti- research?"
The second she said that, Jas froze.
The glass stopped halfway to his mouth.
Lois kept rambling, not noticing. "I an, I know what s are, but anti-s? Like... the opposite of viral videos?"
"I an, duh," Zyn replied. "If s spread, then antis must... not spread?"
Jas finally spoke, his voice calm but firm:
> "Antis are concepts that, by their nature, erase themselves from mory. Ideas that defend themselves from being rembered. From being known."
Both Lois and Zyn fell quiet, blinking.
Lois muttered, "...Huh. Didn't know you were that deep."
The audience watching around the world felt a strange emptiness at that mont.
The Anti-tics Division had saved the world. But no one rembered them.
Not even their friends.
The King had shattered a god at the cost of his departnt's annihilation—and no one knew.
Jas downed the rest of his wine and stood up. "I've got work. Catch you later."
He left without another word, the laughter and clinking of silverware behind him fading into a dull echo.
Soon, Jas found himself outside a familiar door—Dr. Kondraki's office.
Dr. Kondraki still had the sa wide glasses, the sa brown baseball cap, the sa ever-present cigarette in his mouth. But he looked tired. And old.
When he looked up and saw Jas, his expression softened.
> "Damn. You were gone forever. I'm drowning in paperwork."
Jas shook his head and sat across from him. He declined the cigarette.
Kondraki exhaled a puff of smoke and tossed a file across the desk.
> "So. You get your mories back?"
Jas nodded.
> "Good," Kondraki muttered. "Because I've got sothing else for you."
He dropped a manila folder onto the desk.
The audience in the live broadcast room leaned forward.
The screen displayed the label:
> [Project Na: Son of Man]
[Item #: SCP-321]
[Object Class: Safe]
Safe?
The entire room—virtual and real—blinked.
Just monts ago, they had watched a war against the literal god of thought, and now...
They were dealing with a Safe-class file?
> "What?! From killing gods to babysitting plush toys?!"
> "The tone shift gave emotional whiplash!"
> "Dr. Kondraki handing out Safe class? Sothing's wrong here."
The screen revealed more:
> [Special Containnt Procedures:]
SCP-321 is to be contained in a standard chamber. Due to developntal abnormalities, it is fitted with support structures and an artificial heart.
> Feeding three tis daily.
Three hours of daily exercise and therapy.
Allowed several stuffed animals.
Stuffed animals?
Even S.H.I.E.L.D. was baffled.
Natasha leaned back in her seat. "Wait, this feels like 239 all over again."
Even Nick Fury flinched at the na. They all rembered what happened the last ti they called a child SCP "Safe."
Still, they kept reading.
> [Description:]
SCP-321 is a 3.1-ter-tall human female.
Stillborn, later resurrected by her father—an Elentary-level Foundation researcher—using several SCPs.
Unable to speak, highly limited intelligence.
Has regenerative abilities and abnormal growth rate.
Continued to grow over the decades and shows no sign of stopping.
Then ca the twist.
> [Parent: Elentary researcher Adam ██████]
The sa na appeared repeatedly.
Four tis, across four decades, the sa man filed requests:
> "Remove SCP-321's designation."
"Release her."
"Return her to her family."
"She is not a threat."
And four tis,
The O5 Council rejected him.
The final rejection was brutal:
> "This is the last ti, Adam. She is not, and never has been, your daughter."
– O5-1
The live chat exploded:
> "Wait. You're telling this man tried to declassify his daughter for decades?"
> "From Elentary researcher... to Site Director… all the way to O5?!"
> "He climbed the entire hierarchy just to get his daughter back?!"
In the office, Jas looked up, stunned. "So... you want to teach her?"
Dr. Kondraki chuckled, then shook his head. "Hell no. I want you to help him."
He slid another paper across the desk.
It was a formal file.
A fifth request.
Blank.
Waiting for a signature.
> This ti—it was Jas' na on the line.
The broadcast room went silent.
Jas picked up the pen.
The screen zood in on the form.
Dr. Kondraki leaned back, exhaling smoke. "This guy... Adam. He didn't do it for glory. Didn't do it for power. Didn't even do it for science."
He pointed at the form.
> "He beca an O5 for one reason."
> "To bring his daughter ho."
The silence in the Marvel universe was deafening.
From Kamar-Taj to Wakanda, from Asgard to the depths of the ocean—everyone was struck by the weight of that truth.
A man had endured decades of rejection, ridicule, and unimaginable obstacles.
And he rose.
Not through brute strength.
Not through clever manipulation.
But through unshakable love.
To reclaim one life.
A small, fragile being. A child the world had labeled "other."
Now—she might finally co ho.
Jas signed the form.
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