The agents continued discussing among themselves, paying no attention to Jas's dry joke.
But Cain laughed.
"I am honored, researcher…"
Across the room, Frederickson scratched his head uncertainly. "...I'm not sure I follow, but I think Cain just wants us out of here. You, Beatrice, and the researcher will handle the rest."
"Seems that way," Adrian sighed. He still didn't understand why Cain had brought Jas along in the first place.
Beatrice stood up, her tone firm. "Cain's probably the only one who has a clue about what's really happening, which ans he's ten steps ahead of us. I say we follow his lead."
She shot the taller man a cold glance.
"Alright," Adrian said after a pause.
"Then it's decided. I'll go with Dr. Jas, Beatrice, and Cain. Frederickson, you're in charge of the rest. Take the team back to the starting point. An exit should appear there in fifteen minutes."
"Just to be clear, sir, all three Humvees are totaled. We won't get out in ti before everything solidifies again," Frederickson pointed out.
"Our only escape is the front exit."
"That path goes right through enemy territory," Adrian said irritably. "It's suicide."
"In that case, maybe we should go with you instead," Frederickson raised his voice. "If we try to run, we die anyway. Better to take our chances with you."
"DF, Frederickson—"
"I'm sorry, Adrian! You put in charge, didn't you? It's not up to you anymore. We're coming."
Adrian hesitated, then finally gave in. "Alright. Focus on —let's move."
Just as everyone prepared to carry out the plan, the scene changed abruptly.
Elsewhere in the facility, inside a containnt chamber surrounded by the dead and decaying, a massive stone sarcophagus slowly creaked open...
From within, a tall, naked man with olive skin and crimson tattoos erged, returning once more to the world of the living.
Viewers watching the live broadcast collectively gasped.
They recognized him instantly—SCP-076-2.
But most didn't know he had another na: Abel.
And they didn't realize that SCP-073 bore another na as well—
Cain.
"It's 076-2!" Natasha Romanoff said, surprised but hopeful. "He helped contain 682 once. He's one of the Foundation's strongest assets!"
The scene of Abel materializing a weapon from thin air and nearly slaying 682 in one strike still lingered vividly in the minds of those watching.
An agent exclaid, "So, he's with Mobile Task Force 'Pandora's Box' too?"
"If that's the case, won't their mission get easier now?"
"Easier…" Nick Fury sighed. "I hope so."
The scene changed again.
Only four figures now appeared in the cara feed—Jas, Adrian, Beatrice, and Cain leading the way.
Viewers blinked in confusion.
Where were the others? Did they escape?
"Jas…" Adrian muttered.
"Yeah." Jas's eyes were locked on a grotesque creature slithering across the shattered hallway in front of them.
It looked part ram, part slug, part sothing unnamable—sothing grown from the garden of nightmares.
Its bandaged head rocked side to side, while three won danced slowly around an angular object. Each wore only a copper helt adorned with fluttering ribbons, their movents srizing and wrong.
The scene sent a chill down everyone's spine.
Adrian's voice cracked. "Honestly… do you think we'll survive this?"
Jas glanced ahead at Cain, who walked barely twenty feet in front of them—just a few steps behind the dancers.
Suddenly, Jas frowned.
One of the female entities drifted toward Cain. Her every movent radiated a disturbing sensuality, brimming with unnatural charm.
Beatrice instinctively opened her mouth to warn him, but stopped.
Cain didn't retreat. Instead, he smiled—and even laughed.
He seed to hold an invisible conversation with the creature.
Then, astonishingly, the entity bowed her head, stepped back, and clapped her hands against her chest—showing no aggression whatsoever.
"What…?" The live audience watching from their screens froze.
Viewers who had believed Cain was a powerful fighter had expected an epic showdown—swords, powers, a clash of titans.
Instead? He talked.
And won.
Beatrice exhaled in disbelief. Jas finally answered Adrian's question.
"If I didn't believe we could survive, then all our preparation would be pointless. So yes, I think we can make it. Let's move."
Adrian nodded slowly. That was exactly what he needed to hear.
After losing all of Abel's team, Adrian had nearly broken. If Jas hadn't stepped in, he might've ordered the retreat.
Even the mighty Pandora's Box Task Force could feel fear.
Ahead, the strange procession turned right at the intersection and continued dancing, unfazed.
Jas and the others walked forward into the waiting darkness.
Then, suddenly, the screen went black.
Another strange scene inserted itself like a corrupted mory.
Sowhere, a person huddled next to a glowing green egg, cradling it close.
"Falaninna, Falaninna…"
He whispered gently, stroking the cold shell like it was his child.
Every viewer watching felt their hair rise. Sothing about it was wrong.
The feed returned to Jas and the others. They were navigating the facility's lower levels now, close to a building marked on the map—a gun-gray disk with a logo of three inward-pointing arrows inside two rings.
Cain stepped up to the security panel and placed his hand on the scanner.
"Verification passed!"
Clang.
A heavy locking chanism disengaged with a deep groan.
Cain looked at the others. "From now on, I will follow you. You must enter first."
Beatrice blinked. "Is that… a prophecy?"
Cain shook his head. "It's inevitable."
Before anyone could ask what he ant—
WHRRR!
A sharp whine pierced the air like a dentist's drill.
Beatrice scread.
Two wire-like arms burst from the open doorway and latched onto her head.
SNAP.
"No!" Adrian cried, his face twisted in horror.
Jas reacted instantly, raising his weapon.
CRACK!
Bones shattered as Beatrice's head was crushed between the steel wires.
"No!!!"
Adrian opened fire in a frenzy, unloading his rifle until the clip was empty.
Jas's bullet struck the steel figure first—clean, precise.
DING.
The bullet flattened on the automaton's tal abdon and fell harmlessly.
It didn't work.
The audience watching recoiled in fear as the chanical woman's head tilted, mouth opening to reveal gears and wires grinding in rhythm.
Jas and Adrian kept firing.
The whine grew louder, nearly unbearable. Dozens of rounds ricocheted off the steel body, doing little to slow it.
Adrian scread, firing until nothing was left in the chamber.
Then his sidearm. Two more shots.
He couldn't even see clearly anymore. His body moved like it was on autopilot.
Jas landed another shot—straight to the face.
CRACK!
The automaton halted. Its joints flared with blue light as gears spun beneath its skin.
Suddenly, its mouth widened—
Jas dove to the side just as—
BOOM!
A fireball roared down the hallway.
Jas barely made it out, dragging Adrian behind him.
But Adrian wasn't okay.
Pain tore through his left leg. He tried to stand—and couldn't.
"Fk! Fk!" he yelled, in shock.
Steel rose from the flas, its body glowing with heat and rage.
The live broadcast froze. Everyone held their breath.
And then—blackness.
Another mory fragnt crashed in.
Sowhere, a man lay on a table, sobbing silently.
A butcher carved open his abdon, removing organs with surgical precision.
Then, he handed the laughing man a small, paper-wrapped package.
"Enjoy your al."
Back at S.H.I.E.L.D., Natasha Romanoff frowned. "What is this…"
"It's… another anomaly," Fury said slowly, a cold chill in his bones. The man on the table looked disturbingly familiar.
The feed snapped back to Jas.
He was struggling to carry Adrian—running.
The automaton was close behind.
Its joints glowed.
SWISH!
It lunged at them, murder in its eyes.
Just as its fist was about to connect—
Cain stepped in front of them.
The automaton's blow landed with the force of a freight train.
BOOM!!!
Cain was sent flying like a rag doll.
But as he flew, the rune on his forehead blazed blue—brighter than lightning.
The hallway lit up.
BUZZZZZ.
Energy humd in the air, vibrating every atom.
Jas's instincts scread.
He grabbed Adrian and hurled them both through the open door.
BOOM!!!
The chamber erupted in a fireball. Flas engulfed everything.
The automaton shattered, fragnts raining like shrapnel across the hall.
Jas turned—
A shard of steel flew through the air—
It struck Adrian through the skull.
He died instantly.
Jas didn't have ti to mourn.
A pair of cold hands reached toward the back of his head—
Another vision crashed in.
Elsewhere, a group of people tried to close their door.
They froze mid-action as blood trickled from their noses.
Monts later, they lay dead—witnessed only by a shadowy figure placing a token of mourning beside them.
Elsewhere still, Agent Frederickson scread as a 14-inch worm plunged into his eye.
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