"This..." Natasha Romanoff was shocked. "Is this the photo Iris took of James and the others? But... everyone is gone?"
"The timeline correction... is brutal," Nick Fury muttered, swallowing hard. Then, with a bitter smile, he added, "It seems James was rescued by Iris at the last minute."
Natasha was stunned for a moment, then said in disbelief, "You mean... the hands?"
"Ah, since you're interested in SCP-105, here's a message. Please deliver it to her for me," Dr. Kondraki's voice suddenly echoed.
The scene shifted, and James stood at the door of SCP-105's containment room.
The guard stationed outside searched him thoroughly. "No devices capable of capturing photos, and no photos of any kind are allowed," the guard warned.
Bang—
The gas valve hissed open, and James stepped into the containment room.
Inside, Iris sat curled up at the head of her bed, lost in thought. The moment she saw James, her eyes welled up with tears. "Low-level researcher..."
"You're a Level 2 researcher now," James said gently, placing an empty silver pistol box in front of her. "I never got the chance to thank you."
Iris's hands trembled as she leaned closer, her voice cracking. "Where are Adrian and Beatrice? I asked the security guards, but they said those two... don't exist."
James avoided her gaze, turned his head slightly, and replied in a low voice, "They… died in the accident. There's no trace of them left... not even a memory."
Iris's expression collapsed as the light in her eyes dimmed.
"The Pandora's Box Project has been terminated," James continued, his voice faltering. "All MTF Omega-7 teams have been disbanded. You won't be forced into missions anymore."
Iris slowly knelt to the ground, her strength drained, tears falling silently.
The live broadcast chat went eerily quiet.
Suddenly, the screen went dark, and a report appeared in view.
"One month after the Zero Hour Incident, Level 2 Researcher James voluntarily applied to work on a Keter-level containment project, requesting direct involvement with high-risk anomalies.
Preliminary psychological evaluations indicate James exhibits mild self-destructive tendencies. Mental disorders such as schizophrenia have been ruled out. Condition suspected to be a memory dissonance caused by timeline repair.
Subject is currently under observation.
—Dr. Kondraki"
The chat exploded again.
Self-destructive tendencies?
Are they kidding?
By now, the audience had followed James long enough to know he wasn't someone content with peace. Beneath that calm and quiet exterior was a touch of madness.
Who the hell volunteers for a Keter project?
James does.
Before the chat could spiral further, James appeared on the screen again.
"I heard you're involved in a Keter-level project?" Lois, who had been absent for days, asked the moment he saw him.
Zyn adjusted his glasses, visibly concerned. "Is it true?"
James nodded. "Yes."
Their expressions immediately turned serious. As colleagues and close friends, they understood the risks.
Lois frowned. "What are you thinking? You want to sacrifice yourself for the Foundation?"
"If I just wanted money, I'd never have joined the Foundation," James replied calmly. "You, Lois—don't you chase anomalies with enthusiasm? And Zyn, you've become obsessed with SCP-408."
Zyn looked away, slightly embarrassed.
This was the most James had spoken in a long time.
"I hate the world's fake politeness," James continued. "It's meaningless to act sociable while hiding what's in your heart. I joined the Foundation for one reason only—"
"To make contact with anomalies… and then eliminate them."
His words were calm but resonated powerfully. The audience was shaken.
In just a few memories, James had already neutralized two Keter-level objects.
Then, Lois suddenly asked, "Why are we investigating the UIU?"
Zyn blinked. "Maybe we suspect they're hiding anomalous weapons with the potential to cause an XK-class end-of-the-world event?"
"Then why not investigate the GOC?" Lois pressed.
James smirked. "Because the GOC really does have weapons that can cause an XK-class scenario."
The three of them burst out laughing.
The tension lifted instantly. The audience smiled knowingly.
This was the friendship between men.
The screen went dark again, then lit up in Dr. Kondraki's office.
"You know, technically, you're supposed to be on leave," Kondraki said, arms crossed.
James raised an eyebrow. "You know some people just aren't built for rest. Got any work for me?"
Dr. Kondraki stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. "You win, researcher. I've got a weird one for you. It's troubled a lot of doctors. Dragons. Monsters."
Dragons? Monsters?
The chat went wild.
But James frowned slightly, sensing something off.
Sure enough, Dr. Kondraki dug through a dusty old box and handed James a file.
"I'm heading out. You can choose whether or not to take this assignment," he said, already halfway out the door.
He left in a hurry, almost like he was running away.
The chat erupted in confusion, but the focus quickly shifted to the file.
[Project Name: The Dragon Is Here]
Yes! He wasn't lying! There are dragons!
[Item #: SCP-1762]
[Object Class: Safe]
Wait, what? SAFE?!
The audience paused.
[Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1762-1 is kept in a standard containment unit at Site-17. Any events involving SCP-1762-2 are to be recorded for analysis. Although SCP-1762-2 is harmless, it must not leave containment.]
Harmless? Is this really about dragons?
[Description: SCP-1762-1 is a silver-painted cardboard box (32cm x 20cm x 26cm) with the words "Here Comes the Dragon" written on the lid in black marker. The box appears empty when not in its release phase.]
[During release, black smoke is emitted, followed by the appearance of SCP-1762-2: origami models shaped like dragons of various types.]
The chat was stunned.
"Origami dragons? Seriously?"
"This has to be a joke..."
"Now I understand why Kondraki ran so fast. I'd run too!"
Even the agents at S.H.I.E.L.D. were laughing.
"Origami dragons... unbelievable," Natasha said, holding her waist.
Nick Fury allowed himself a rare chuckle. "Kondraki wouldn't let James near a real Keter right now. But I didn't expect this..."
Back on screen, James remained composed, reading through the file carefully.
[Instances of SCP-1762-2 fly around playfully with personnel and with each other. Their sizes vary from 9cm to 30cm, and they can fly up to 15 km/h.]
James finished the file and didn't seem angry. Instead, he paused, then picked up the phone.
"I'll take the assignment."
The chat exploded in disbelief.
"He accepted?!"
"There's gotta be more to it."
"No way this is just about origami dragons."
The screen shifted. James was now in a containment room with three young technicians—two men and one woman, all in white lab coats.
They stood around a silver box with the words "Here is the Dragon" scrawled on it.
"It's been untouched since we took it in," said a chubby technician.
"It's more like sheltering than containing it," the female technician added.
Seeing James glance her way, she quickly explained, "An old man brought it in. Said it was a toy his grandson made before he passed away. He noticed something strange about the box and got scared. So, he sent it here."
The chat buzzed.
"A child made this?"
"A human-made anomaly? That's rare."
James stepped closer to SCP-1762-1, observing it quietly.
At first glance, it looked entirely ordinary—nothing more than a shoebox.
But then, something unexpected happened.
The box lid slowly creaked open.
Dark smoke spilled from the opening, catching everyone off guard.
Before alarms could be triggered, several shapes emerged from the mist.
They weren't threats.
They were… origami dragons.
Colorful, fluttering paper dragons of varying shapes and sizes floated through the air. One red dragon circled James curiously.
He noticed a yellowish stain on one of its wings—it looked like... tape?
"Don't panic," James said calmly, as the others instinctively tensed. He raised his hand slowly toward the red dragon.
To everyone's amazement, it gently landed on his arm.
Roughly twenty centimeters long, it was perfectly folded and incredibly lifelike.
The dragon turned its head and made brief eye contact with James—then slid a tiny folded piece of paper into his hand.
Unfolding it, James read the handwritten message.
"You found us."
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