Scp-534 Novels & Stories

“How about that one. D3M04/A4G31. It looks like the codes I saw on the other files.” Rowan opens the file and gasps. We don’t even notice that our noses are almost touching the screen as we read through the file. D3M04 10RD- Captured date 03/16/1999 - Present Subject showing signs of aggression after being separated from the mate. Due to genetic abilities, the subject is a viable donor for the life endurance of interspecies permutation. D3M04’S mate, A4G31, although a viable donor, is expendable. However, D3M04 10RD has proven himself to be unmanageable because of his superior abilities. Therefore, an arrangement has been made with D3M04 10RD that as long as he remains cooperative, A4G31 sh

That wasn’t synthetic. Neither was mine. A soft tone interrupted the silence. New notification. Not from the apartment. From my tablet. I crossed the room slowly and picked it up. The screen displayed a single classified document. PROJECT ORPHEUS Behavioral Synchronization Trial – Phase III Primary Objective: Emotional Dependency Pairing for Executive Stabilization My blood went cold. Below it— Subject A: Reid, Shawn Subject B: Agreste, Catriona Status: Convergence Successful Shawn went utterly still behind me.

I opened the next document, another fragment, this one tagged Incident Report, RDM-47B. It contained only a few sentences: “During containment, subject displayed uncontrollable electromagnetic discharge. Room temperature dropped by 15 degrees within seconds. When conscious, subject described recurring visions of a burning field and a girl made of gold. Council observer recommends continued sedation until resonance levels stabilise.” I felt the blood drain from my face. The “burning field,” the “girl made of gold.” Rain. That was Rain. I exhaled slowly, steadying myself. The laptop hummed quietly, a low electronic heartbeat in the silence.

"Eli is the only stable subject who retained emotional cognition and memory empathy. He imprinted on you, Damien. That bond makes him the perfect candidate. But Monroe plans to take him back. To recondition him." Damien's fists clenched. "Over my dead body." "That might be what he’s counting on," Julian said gravely. Another voice broke in—Mara, the team's sniper and scout. "There’s more. The drive had coordinates. A private facility in Siberia. Remote, isolated, and highly protected. Looks like Monroe's real base of operations." Damien looked at Aurora, then at Eli, who peeked around the doorway. "Then that’s where we go."

"And their supernatural subjects?" I asked quietly. "The ones they've already taken?" Cynthia's expression grew haunted. "Kept in specialized containment designed to neutralize their specific abilities. Some have been there for decades, their genetics harvested repeatedly for new research lines. Others..." She paused. "Others don't survive the more invasive procedures." Liam moved to stand beside me, his hand on my shoulder as I processed these horrific truths through my gift. "How do we find Sentinel?" Alex demanded. "If he's had access to our medical records, he may already have preliminary samples."

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.

Belladren mission and trying to understand exactly what we were walking into. The Lamenting Mother had been a woman once. Sara Belladren, owner of the radio factory, infected during what Eugene called “a resonance event” where parasitic entities were drawn to the electromagnetic frequencies the factory equipment generated. She’d been Class C by the time Eugene’s team captured her for testing—powerful enough to influence dozens of people simultaneously, to pull grief from their minds and amplify it until they couldn’t function. But Eugene’s device had worked. Three separate tests over two weeks, each time disrupting the parasitic structures that sustained the anomaly without killing the host.

Penelope circled the room, flashlight darting over control panels and embedded drawers. One caught her eye, no power indicator, no screen. Manual latch. She popped it open. Inside: a slim drawer of hardcopy files. Old-school. Labeled by hand. She pulled the one on top black folder, silver embossed: LUX PROTOCOL // PHASE ONE She flipped it open. Top page: biometric charts. Notes on “suggestibility thresholds” and “symbolic anchoring in post-trauma subjects.” She turned another page. Then I stopped cold.

Dark Soldiers’ Base – Holding Room Elliot stood before the bank of monitors in the control room, his reflection a grim mask in the glass. On the screens, six young men lay on simple cots in a sterile white room, each with a dull metallic bracelet clamped around one wrist. “We’re missing one,” Elliot said, his voice low. Amy stood beside him, her tablet in hand. “Yes, sir. The seventh signature. It’s… erratic. Fades in and out. The profile fits the historical parameters for the entity code-named ‘Shadowalker.’ How do we find him?”

Delta Commander replied. “The portals closed abruptly, which means that the invasion was interrupted.” Xena said. “Unfortunately, there is a lot we do not know.” Delta Commander replied. A nervous murmur took over the briefing room. I knew that I was not going to find answers here. “Can we see the bodies of the creatures, if there are any?” I asked. “We need to know what we are dealing with.” Delta Commander looked irritated but did not address me directly. “As a matter of fact, I have used the initiative to call on Dr. Strahovsky. She is the Head Medical Researcher of Diagnostic Engineering Neurobiology. DEN.” Delta Commander said.