When the old man—SCP-1440—uttered the word "win" with pain in his voice, a strange stillness fell over the live stream. The entire Marvel Universe, watching from screens across dinsions, paused in silent confusion.
What did he an by win?
At S.H.I.E.L.D., Director Nick Fury narrowed his one good eye at the screen. Though he lacked the mystical perception of soone like the Ancient One or the Watcher Uatu, he trusted instinct—and that instinct was screaming louder than ever.
He had felt the growing unease the mont SCP-1440 began to ntion the second being, and now... it peaked.
Then—
BOOM!
A violent explosion engulfed the screen.
Flas soared into the sky.
Without warning, Area-142's core facility detonated, defying every safety asure built into it.
[Postscript: Area-142 was destroyed despite multiple containnt failsafes. All personnel on site perished.]
[SCP-1440 was spotted unhard 3,000 kiloters away one week later.]
[Containnt efforts have been indefinitely suspended following three additional breaches.]
As the smoke cleared and the postscript faded from the screen…
Marvel went silent.
One second…
Two…
Three…
Then—an eruption.
"WHAT THE—?!"
"Did anyone else see that? Two... shadows?! Just for a second!"
"I saw it too! The old man wasn't lying! There were two of them!"
"Oh my god, I felt my mind breaking just watching that! Are those... actual gods?!"
Indeed, it wasn't just the explosion that had shaken everyone.
It was what they had seen right before it happened.
Two phantoms—two impossible, terrifying figures—flashed across the screen.
One brought disaster. Natural chaos—earthquakes, storms, fire.
The other carried the scythe of Death itself.
And with one sweeping motion, he reaped the lives of everyone at Area-142.
At S.H.I.E.L.D., the agents stared, frozen.
Nick Fury stood like a statue, barely able to move, hands trembling.
The feeling in his chest that had been bothering him for minutes finally had a na: terror.
"I saw…" he whispered, "I saw Death."
"And Destruction."
Kamar-Taj.
The Ancient One's eyes widened, her lips trembling as she grasped the edge of her cloak. In that brief mont, she had seen the true nature of universal law—not through books or ditation, but in raw, divine power.
"Supre Divinities…" she whispered. "Two of them… at once."
It defied everything she knew.
And for a mont, her mind nearly broke.
She clutched her amulet, thanking fate that she hadn't opened the Eye of Agamotto in that mont. If she had...
It might have destroyed her.
anwhile, in the deepest part of the universe, the Watcher Uatu stared, his ancient heart pounding.
He had just seen Shangmie and Jiemie—the Supre Gods of Death and Disaster—appear in the sa room.
Billions of years of cosmic observation hadn't prepared him for this.
Yet what disturbed him even more wasn't their presence—
It was the old man they followed.
SCP-1440.
Why him?
He didn't seem to command them.
Yet they appeared around him, their powers swirling through his presence.
Why would two Supre Gods share their power with a single human being?
What had this man done?
And what was the cost?
The scene returned to the facility. Jas, the high-level researcher of Site-19, stood silently, eyes glued to the last entry on the screen.
> [Addendum SCP-1440-B: Due to the expansion of human civilization, SCP-1440 confird in his fifth containnt attempt that he finds it increasingly difficult to avoid contact with humans. The unseen force driving his movent still pulls him toward populated areas. Efforts to create a permanent containnt thod continue.]
Jas set down the file. His hands shook. Even his normally calm deanor was broken by what he had read.
SCP-1440 had once been just an old man.
Now?
He was sothing else entirely.
He grabbed his phone and made the call:
"This is Jas from Site-19. I request imdiate participation in the SCP-1440 final containnt project."
The chat exploded.
"Woo! Jas is a hero!"
"Let's gooo! He knows what we want!"
"He's not just brave—he's got style."
On the other end of the line, the Foundation supervisor hesitated only for a mont.
"Approved. SCP-1440 was last seen near Site-187. Proceed with caution."
"Understood."
As Jas ended the call, the screen cut to black.
But for once, the Marvel audience wasn't disappointed.
They were hyped.
The Extraordinary Chat Group lit up too.
[Tony Stark]: "Okay, hold up. Supre Gods of death and destruction? Where's the one for chanical tech, huh?"
[Deadpool]: "Real warriors don't need tech. Muscles and madness, baby!"
[Steve Rogers]: "Should we really let Jas go alone? That SCP is dangerous."
[Hulk]: "I'm worried, but I also think Jas is... special."
[Black Widow]: "Honestly, he feels like soone even the universe favors."
As anticipation built across dinsions...
Jas appeared on-screen again.
Wearing a sleek black coat, he walked down a quiet, rain-drenched European street.
Natasha Romanoff tilted her head. "Is he on a mission?"
Nick Fury's eyes narrowed. "He's going after SCP-1440."
Gasps. Silence. Then—
Excitent.
Jas approached an old tavern at the end of the street.
From his earpiece ca the voice of a hidden agent: "Target located inside. Doctor, are you sure you want to enter alone?"
Jas didn't answer. He just said:
"Start recording."
He pushed open the door.
The tavern was empty—except for one man sitting alone at the bar.
SCP-1440.
The rhythm of Jas' shoes echoed across the wooden floor.
As he approached, the old man didn't turn around.
"You shouldn't be here, child," SCP-1440 said calmly.
But Jas didn't stop. He sat a few seats down, slid a coin across the bar, and poured himself a drink.
Without a word, he poured so into SCP-1440's empty cup as well.
The old man stared at him, then slowly accepted the gesture.
"You still believe you can contain ?"
Jas smiled faintly. "No. But I think you have a story worth hearing."
A long pause.
Then, finally, SCP-1440 exhaled. "It seems you're lucky today. They haven't followed here."
Jas nodded. "Then talk to . Before they do."
The old man took a sip and looked into the distance.
"Sotis I wonder what keeps going in this cursed journey. I should have drowned in despair long ago. But sohow… I haven't."
"I guess it's rebellion. The mory of what I once was."
He pulled out a battered deck of cards from his coat pocket.
"It all began with a simple ga of cards. That was the beginning… and the end. I played, and I won. I won three gifts. And dood myself forever."
The entire world froze.
He won… three artifacts? From whom?
Jas asked softly, "A ga?"
The old man nodded. "Yes. I've thrown myself into oceans, into volcanoes… hoping to be buried forever."
"But the power of those three brothers always pulls back. Beyond nature. Beyond fate."
"I even burrowed deep underground once. I thought maybe the earth could hold ."
"But in the blink of an eye, I was above ground again. Always… walking toward civilization."
"I am like a plague."
His voice trembled.
"And they will never let go."
---
To be continued...
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