Scp-468 Novels & Stories

However, considering the circumstances, this mission is continuing to make me break more and more standard operating procedures. A few minutes later, as we pull onto Interstate 40, I get a response from Zeke. “Vic = Stephanie Webber. 21 female. Found in room 669, by housekeeper, 45 minutes ago. No T.O.D. estimate yet.” “Captain Hammer’s nipples,” I curse. “We’ve been on this assignment barely a week, and Nick’s already running circles around us.” “You’re just upset he’s killing people, and you aren’t,” Mary Sue replies.

He looks back at me with eyes full of panic. "Go on, Darling," I say. "Just touch it." He places a pale, trembling hand on the crystal. The pillar glows a soft pink, then shifts to a vibrant, verdant green. A robotic voice booms through the entire facility: [AWAKENING CONFIRMED. SUBJECT: ARLO NAPKI. RESULT: 80% NARCISSUS (THE GOD OF VANITY). 20% ASCLEPIUS (THE GOD OF MEDICINE). ALIGNMENT: LAWFUL GOOD.]

They were shivering uncontrollably. Harper stood across from them, wearing her insulated tactical gear. She held a datapad, reviewing their personnel files. Dr. Evans (Geologist), Dr. Miller (Marine Biologist), Sarah (Tech Support), and two junior researchers. "I don't understand," Dr. Evans stammered, his teeth chattering. "We told you everything. Malakai and his cultists breached the door... they started slaughtering people... we ran." "I know," Harper said softly, pacing the room. "But the Ascended don't just kill. They convert. They use a localized psychic frequency to break the human mind." She stopped and looked at the group. "I need to make sure none of you were... exposed."

Something that didn't belong in a "Real World." A **Titan** stepped out of the shadows. It was thirty feet tall, its body made of rusted iron and pulsing violet tubes. It had the face of a man, but the eyes were giant searchlights. On its chest, a large silver logo was etched into the metal: **AETHEL-GROUP: ASSET RECOVERY**. "Subject 01 and Donor 04," the Titan’s voice boomed, sounding like a thousand speakers blowing out at once. "You have exceeded your 'Independence' quota. Please remain still while your 'Conflict Data' is harvested."

Celeste: “Then they stay breathing. For now.” I turn to my family. Celeste: “New plan. We save the kids first. Then we rob the dead. Then we go to Romania. And then…” I smile like a storm about to break. “We carve the last four pieces out of the Forty-Eighth’s heart ourselves.” The HUD flashes once. 34 / 47 Locations acquired: - 3 in Hot Springs - 2 in Romania - 4 living hosts (extraction priority) - 4 with the Forty-Eighth

He stops a respectful distance away, eyes flicking between Sienna’s fading hybrid aura and me. “Alpha Byrne. Ms. Hart.” He nods once. “TWe’ve hit dozens of sites already,” the commander says. “We’re still finding more. Your broadcast and the evidence your pack provided triggered emergency protocols across every major government. We’ve seized their facilities, arrested their leadership, and locked down every known variant production site. They’re done fighting.” I feel the tension in my shoulders finally ease a fraction. “Savannah?” “In custody,” he confirms. “She’s being transferred to a secure supernatural detention center. She won’t see daylight for the rest of her life.”

He looks like he’s trying to breathe through his mouth and not his nose, leaving me to assume he finds the scent off-putting, too. Tasha nods. “It’s not exactly the same, but it’s similar enough that whatever they’re from are definitely the same species if not the same…things.” She says “things” in a tone that projects both disgust and bewilderment. “Alpha!” I hear Channing call as he approaches with Blake and Serafina. It takes just a moment before I realize he’s carrying a human over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Who do you have there, Channing?” I ask, feeling my mouth go dry and the sensation of my stomach dropping, fearing the answer.

The door burst open. Four men in tactical gear stepped in. They weren't wearing police uniforms. Their patches were a simple, gold-embossed 'DIR'—Department of Inter-species Regulation. They held pulse-rifles leveled at Richard’s chest. "Target is secured," the lead agent said into his shoulder mic. He looked at me. "Doctor Scott. Are the dampeners active?" "He’s at 40% capacity," I said. My voice was flat. Cold. Like I was describing a piece of equipment. "He won't be able to shift for at least six hours. The mercury is doing its job."

Their elite shock troops were reduced to a writhing, incapacitated mob in seconds. Amidst the chaos, Jack found a chilling connection. The specific energy signature of the psychic dampeners, the way they interacted with lycanthrope neurology, was eerily similar to fragments of data he had seen in his parents' last, cryptic message. It mentioned a rogue military project, codenamed 'Cerberus,' designed to control and weaponize supernatural beings. The Iron Claw weren't just using Council technology; they were using a perverted, weaponized version of his own family's research.

At the gaps in Project Blackstone's history that suggested someone had deliberately removed themselves from documentation. "Samuel Morrison didn't discover quantum consciousness preservation. He was recruited by someone who had already perfected it. Someone who needed legitimate researcher to provide academic cover. Someone who has been manipulating everything from the beginning." My body convulsed again. Harder. Blood ran from my nose. Across forty-seven locations, the hosts were experiencing the same symptoms. The same cascade failure. The same methodical murder. "Where is the creator now?" Albert asked. "Unknown. They've been hidden for forty years. But if they're attacking Eva, they must