Scp-732 Novels & Stories

While there isn't much time left for this chat, I would appreciate it if you could give careful consideration to what I have to say. "Alright." _I am currently being held as a hostage by one of the individuals who are a part of Mamba. He is attempting to find a way to use my abilities in order to connect all of the children who were present during the experiment, and then he will bring them back to the laboratory after he has completed his mission. If you go back, there is a good probability that you will all be killed, but I know a method to make sure that they won't make you follow them this time so that you won't have to risk your lives. The vast majority of them have already started to s

She’d decided in the gym that she would get proof from the source. Now, in the quiet, another part of her replayed older scenes: the back room of a cheap club, drugged air in her lungs, someone’s hand on the back of her neck, shoving her forward. Papers she hadn’t been allowed to read. A pinprick at her finger. A number replacing her name. “SIREN‑7,” a voice had said. “Asset acquired.” The first time she’d heard the name “Mother,” it had been a whisper in a steel corridor. Half fear, half worship.

Arthur said. He dragged her toward the edge of the violet pool. The liquid was humming a sound so loud it felt like it was vibrating the teeth in Maya’s head. Mother... The twins kicked. It wasn't a fight this time. It was a warning. They felt the pool. They felt the hunger of the Root. "Seven! Do something!" Maya yelled, looking back toward the pod. Seven was standing in the doorway with her face looking like a mask of terror. She held a small, silver disc; a high-yield thermal detonator she had pulled from the pod’s emergency kit. Her thumb was hovering over the trigger.

He wasn't a student, and he wasn't a teacher. ​He was an Obsidian Scout, one of the elite few Darius had sent ahead of the main extraction team. ​"Subject 7—the Sterling girl—is showing increased heart rate and body temperature," the scout whispered into his comms. "The digital sabotage by the local alpha-female is working. The subject's emotional distress is triggering her essence." ​"Good," a voice crackled back—Darius’s voice, cold and distant. "Let her simmer. We need her power to reach a peak before we move. What about the Commander?"

“You watched his body fail in front of you. You watched him dragged from your own gala half-dead. You watched me cut into his chest because none of your healers could fix what your funds put in his blood.” Victor’s knuckles whitened on the arm of his chair. “Dr. Hale,” Dhar said carefully. “We understood the wolfsbane attack on Alpha Voss was—” “Isolated?” she supplied. “Unfortunate? An act of rogue aggression?” She flicked to the next slide. “Subject 32-F,” she said. “Female. Twenty-six. Unregistered line. Early gestation at time of exposure. IV infusion at a ‘charity’ clinic. Sponsor path: Council Auxiliary Health → Halcyon Medical shell → Voss Trust and Albrecht Holdings.”

Elena shouted, but the line went to a terrifying, rhythmic static. Gaia, the newly humanized Sixth Sister, stood tall, her eyes reflecting the deep indigo of the ocean depths. "The Seventh is the Composite Mind. Silas didn't want to rule the world; he wanted to become the world. He mapped the neuro-signatures of every Northwood employee, every Syndicate member, and every person who ever downloaded a Northwood-integrated app. The 'Seventh' is the sum of their obedience." Alexander stared at the screen. Across the globe, from the streets of Lagos to the penthouses of London, people were stopping in their tracks. They weren't fighting. They weren't screaming. They were simply turning toward the

​New York. Xavier's Penthouse. Thursday. 11:47 AM ​Xavier was already deep into a call with Nadia before Scarlett had even finished her second round of logistics. The penthouse had shifted from a residence into a tactical assembly floor. Margot had somehow manifested a fourth monitor—a tablet propped precariously against the backsplash—running the Apex-7 documentation in a scrolling waterfall of data that sat parallel to the seventeen-name verification and the grand jury procedural requirements she’d been researching for the last hour in a silent, caffeinated fury.

"The layout has natural interference that jams tracking arrays and communication. Once isolated, they head for the target coordinates. We don't need all seven—three can finish the ritual." "And the rest of your little pets?" "They stay embedded with the cohorts. Gather intel. And if a clean chance pops up to put a knife in a high-value target..." The hooded figure paused. "They have authority to kill." "Give me names." "Hale's second son. The Kirk girl. Giovanni—if that Berserker Physique keeps waking up, he’s too much of a threat to leave breathing." The figure hesitated briefly. "And Crawford." The suffocating pressure in the room spiked instantly. The red fire flickered violently, flatten

I placed his small hand against my chest “, you feel like mine.” He didn’t speak. But he didn’t pull away either. Meanwhile... Beneath Manhattan, in a bunker that reeked of power and rot, Maurice lit a cigar and smiled at the flickering screens. Thermal feeds. Four signatures. Three adults. One infant. “That’s them?” he asked. “Yes, sir,” the tech replied. “We confirmed Ethan, Sophia, Subject A-17... and the child.” Maurice’s grin widened. “A little family,” he muttered. “All tucked in.”

Then it happened really fast, too fast as Seraphina’s guards—genetically-enhanced operatives—pushed in like shadows. Gabriel threw the EMP. Jace activated the firewall disruptor. Bailey went for the servers. Then I ran after Seraphina. Through the vault. Past the hybrid embryos. Into the final chamber—a throne room made of screens. “You won’t hurt them,” I said, pointing my gun at the core vial labeled Chimera-7. Seraphina turned. “I won’t need to. They will choose me. Because I won’t make the same mistakes you did.”