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SCP-Ageless

Butterboy5253
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Synopsis
Dr. Viktor Kraus was one of the brightest minds at the SCP Foundation, a man of unparalleled intelligence, ruthlessness, and unsettling thoughts. His work pushed the boundaries of science, but in the end, even he was not immune to human error. A single miscalculation, a containment breach, and an instant of chaos, then nothing. But death was not the end. When Viktor awakens, he is no longer in the sterile halls of the Foundation but in the heart of an untamed forest, the world around him primitive and unfamiliar. With no technology, no allies, and no clear answers, he is left with only his mind, and a world that has yet to understand the impossible. As the Bronze Age unfolds before him, Viktor must navigate a world where knowledge is power, survival is brutal, and the supernatural is nothing more than myth… for now.
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Chapter 1 - The Death of a Genius

Dr. Viktor Kraus inhaled sharply, blinking the sleep from his tired brown eyes as the dim glow of his alarm clock burned the time into his vision, 04:30AM.

He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose before swinging his legs off the stiff mattress.

The air was cold, sterile, like everything in Site-19. His small quarters were identical to every other researcher's: plain white walls, a desk buried under notes and cigarette packs, a metal wardrobe, and a private bathroom. A luxury, really, considering most lower-level personnel had to share.

He stood, his reflection in the small mirror by the sink greeting him with the same unimpressive sight as always.

Brown hair, slightly unkempt despite his best efforts. Thin, almost gaunt features,caused by a constant lack of sleep.

Average height, average build,wholly unremarkable if not for the ever-present exhaustion in his eyes. He adjusted his thin-framed glasses, watching as they briefly fogged up from his breath.

Routine dictated the next steps. He turned on the shower, letting the water heat up while he lit a cigarette. First one of the day. He took a slow drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke that curled against the bathroom ceiling.

Technically against regulations. Not that anyone would stop him. He exhaled again and stepped under the water, washing away the last remnants of sleep before shutting it off exactly three minutes later.

By 04:50 AM, he was dressed in his lab coat, sitting at his desk with a lukewarm cup of instant coffee.

Breakfast wasn't a priority. A cigarette was. He lit another as he skimmed through notes detailing the latest tests on SCP-682, the so-called "Hard to destroy Reptile."

Viktor was the leadingresesrcher on 682, a position that required Level 4 clearance and an understanding of anomalous biology far beyond most of his peers.

He had spent years studying the thing, analyzing its regenerative properties, testing countless termination methods, all of them failures.

It had survived nukes, acid baths, reality-warping anomalies, even SCP-096. Nothing worked. Nothing ever would.

And yet, he kept trying.

Another day in the Foundation. Another day surrounded by people he barely tolerated, running experiments that fascinated him far more than any human ever could.

Not that it mattered.

Viktor wasn't a man built for conversation.

Socializing required effort, effort he didn't see the point in wasting. He understood people well enough, knew how to navigate their predictable little emotions when necessary, but that was all.

Most of his colleagues found him odd, difficult to approach. He had overheard whispers of "brilliant but strange" more than once. As if he didn't already know.

He wasn't incapable of empathy. He just didn't care.

At 05:10 AM, he checked the time, exhaled another lungful of smoke, and crushed the cigarette into the ashtray.

Time to work.

——————————————————

Incident Report: Site-19 Containment Breach

Time: 16:32 PM

The alarm was deafening. Red emergency lights pulsed against the white walls of the containment wing, casting everything in an eerie glow.

Viktor walked briskly down the hall, unbothered by the chaos unfolding around him. Guards barked orders, researchers scrambled for cover, but he remained calm.

This wasn't the first breach. It wouldn't be the last.

„Containment procedures for SCP-682 had failed. Again." he muttered.

He reached the observation deck overlooking the reinforced chamber where 682 had been held.

Or rather, whatwas left ofit. The glass was shattered, security turrets lay in smoking heaps, and the reptile's grotesque, shifting form was already halfway down the corridor, leaving a trail of dismembered MTFoperatives in its wake.

Viktor adjusted his glasses, watching.

There was no fear in his expression. Just… fascination.

Doctor, we need to evacuate!" a junior researcher, Levy shouted as he ran past.

Viktor ignored him.

He had seen 682 escape before, but this was different. It had adapted again, its body shifting into something new, something he didn't recognize. The sheer efficiency of its latest form was almost… admirable.

Then 682 turned its head.

And looked directly at him.

For the first time, Viktor felt something cold settle in his chest. Not fear. Not quite.

More like a sudden, dawning understanding.

It was coming for him.

By the time he turned, it was already too late.

The last thing Dr. Viktor Kraus saw was a blur of teeth, an explosion of pain, and then.

Nothing