Scp-547 Novels & Stories

“Adrian!” A whisper echoed in her mind—his voice, faint but clear. Maya… run. She shook her head, crying. “I won’t!” But the light brightened—too bright to see. The ground shook violently. Cracks of energy tore through the chamber walls. Everything was about to collapse. Then, suddenly, a cold, mechanical voice spoke from above. SYSTEM OVERRIDE DETECTED. PRIMARY ANCHOR DISENGAGED. NEW ENTITY REGISTERED: “LUCENT PROTOCOL.”

Too quiet. They passed by glass rooms–some empty, some filled with lifeless prototypes suspended in fluid tanks. Elena’s stomach twisted. Sophie could’ve ended up here. Rose was still trapped inside this nightmare. Lucian stopped in front of a security door labeled “Subject R-47.” He keyed in another passcode. The door slid open. Inside, Rose sat in a chair, strapped and sedated, her head lolled to one side. Her face–Sophie’s face–was thinner, sharper, but still familiar. A version molded under a cruel hand.

"No, no, no! You can't take him away! He's our son!" The Synod Agent's expression remained impassive. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Your son's QTS results indicate an NX-5 classification. He has been designated as government property, effective immediately." The woman's cries grew louder, her body shaking uncontrollably. The man's face was ashen, his eyes vacant. I felt a chill run down my spine. NX-5 – the highest level of Neuroxine enhancement. I'd heard rumors of what happened to those classified as NX-5.

I almost lost control today in her apartment and if she saw the brutality I was capable of when I had no control Dea would fear me till the day she drew her last breath. "That complicates things. I'm sure we can find a way to scare him. We could always use the little bloodsucker. I'm sure he and Lilith wouldn't mind some fresh, hot blood," Quade chuckled at his morbid idea and, even I had to admit, it was a good plan, "you do remember who they are?" "I remember," I admitted, "I've worked with each one of the council members individually to have slight memories of them so Sydney wasn't around all the time."

Before the young spellcaster could finish, a blue beam of energy rained down on the Salamander, cutting off a small tip of its tail as the rest of its body was contained in a cylinder forcefield. “What the hell?” Scott said. Eight armed soldiers in green and white coloring appeared surrounding the Salamander. Each weaving a “S” shaped emblem with an arrow going through it diagonally. “Not them again,” Roxy said to herself. “War cloud, who are these guys,” Olivia asked. “I can answer that, Detective Cult,” A fourth voice chord as a dark skin woman with green eyes and short white hair appeared. I am Director Viola Sungold. We are an organization known as the supernatural prevention Espionage A

Charlie once felt that the search for the specific address of 547’s lineage of dead soldiers might be as difficult as reaching for the sky. The reason for this was that the mysterious organization had extremely tight control over the dead soldiers, preventing them from perceiving the exact time, and also preventing them from feeling external light, temperature, sound, and the changing seasons outside the world. Therefore, 547 did not even know which one of the seven continents he lived in, let alone whether he was in the tropics or the cold zone.

“No, he wouldn’t– couldn’t–” But my father could. My father did many things no sane Alpha would do. Gavin moves toward me slowly, voice gentle but fraying. “Harley… you’re shaking.” I jerk away. “We don’t have time for this.” Luca swallows hard. “There’s more.” He scrolls. The next entry hits like a bullet to the heart. GENETIC SUBJECT C-37 – ALESSANDRA NOONE Status: FLAGGED / CLASSIFIED PROJECT FIVE – ACTIVE

My throat tightened as I clicked a video file labeled: Prototype 7. The footage flickered to life. Maria sat behind a sleek desk, her expression calm and deliberate. “The subject Scarlett Maria Devereux exhibits strong adaptive instincts, emotional volatility, and high persuasion thresholds. Predicted outcome: ideal candidate for control transfer.” Control transfer. I scrolled to the next document a contract signed under Damien Cole’s name, dated before Maria’s death. Subject assigned: Scarlett M. Devereux. Objective: integrate emotional dependency and ensure asset compliance. I couldn’t breathe.

Then another. "It’s not the Mother," Malakai whispered. His knuckles turned white. "Then who is it?" The terminal doors at the far end of the station creaked open. A man in a clean, white lab coat stepped through. He wasn't a wolf. He wasn't a hybrid. He was holding a remote detonator. "Subject 7B," the man said. His voice was projected through the station’s PA system. "The test period is over. Please step away from the civilian and return to your containment unit."

[Scene 6: Suspense] We pulled apart as a low-frequency hum vibrated through the concrete slab. One of the obsidian ships had entered the harbor, its bow cutting through the water with terrifying precision. A single beam of black light—a negative-spectrum laser—shot out from the ship, scanning the ruins of the mansion. It stopped on us. "They’ve locked onto the somatic signature," Dante muttered, his hand going to the master drive still embedded in my wrist. "They aren't sending a diplomat, Ivy. They're sending a Retrieval Unit."