The dim screen flickered back to life.
But instead of James, the one who appeared on the screen was Dr. Clef—his expression grim, the orange-red glow of chaos reflecting in his eyes.
The world was on fire.
From the safety of Site-67, Clef stood at the observation bay and watched the planet burn.
Unnatural black and green flames consumed cities and forests—fires triggered by thirteen mutated humans infected by SCP-3396.
It wasn't just a simple breach anymore. It was a full-blown global disaster.
"Everything's unraveling," Clef muttered under his breath.
The live stream from Site-67 began broadcasting across internal Foundation servers and external black channels. People were stunned. Then the chat exploded.
"What the hell? Is it really that bad?!"
"These mutants are breaking down civilization piece by piece."
"Why is no one stopping this?"
"Is the Foundation really going to use SCP-2000?!"
The camera cut to a control room at S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters. Even their agents looked uneasy.
Natasha Romanoff crossed her arms, staring at the feed. "Even if James succeeds... the Foundation's secret is toast. The damage is already too widespread."
Nick Fury's one good eye narrowed as he exhaled deeply. "One man holding back a collapsing world. That's not a plan... that's a prayer."
They all knew what SCP-3125 and SCP-3999 could do—wipe out reality without anyone even noticing.
But SCP-3396 was different.
It did nothing. It didn't destroy. It simply existed.
And that existence alone was pulling the world apart, slowly but surely.
Clef knew it too. He watched the flames with a sense of helplessness clawing at his chest.
Then someone walked in.
"05-12 is here to see you, sir," said his assistant, Adams.
"Tell him to leave," Clef snapped.
"Got it. Letting him in now," Adams replied cheerfully, ignoring the order.
The door opened.
Clef didn't even turn to look. "What the hell do you want?"
A familiar voice answered. Not the robotic tones of an Overseer. A human one. Smug. Arrogant.
"So that's how you greet an O5 now?"
Clef spun around, his eyes narrowing. "It's you."
Victor Hale—the man who somehow rose through the ranks and now wore the mask of 05-12.
Clef snarled, "Wish I could say it's good to see you. But I'd be lying."
The stream audience was eating this up.
"He's just trash-talking an O5 like it's no big deal!"
"Clef's not afraid of ANYONE."
Victor got right to the point.
"The Council has made a decision."
Clef froze. "Wait... you mean James failed?"
Victor shrugged. "Did anyone really expect him to succeed? Mortal to godhood? That's just a myth."
He reached into his coat and handed Clef a folded piece of paper.
It was a list.
A kill list.
Clef scanned it. His stomach churned.
"Not again…" he whispered.
Even the S.H.I.E.L.D. feed picked it up. Natasha gasped.
"No way! They're doing another purge?"
Fury stared hard at the list on screen. "This isn't containment. This is a funeral."
"This is a list of the Foundation's core personnel," Clef said grimly. "Kill them... and we collapse. The whole damn organization dies."
Victor nodded.
"No O5s on there, though," he said with a smirk. "Well... mostly."
"Typical," Clef muttered. "Cowards always make others do the dirty work."
Victor stepped forward. "You're the only one who can do this, Clef. You know that."
Clef threw the list back in his face.
"After this, there's no place for me in this world. You think I don't know that?"
Victor's expression turned cold. "If James fails, then we'll have no choice but to activate SCP-2000."
The screen went black.
The world held its breath.
Everyone was waiting for James.
The screen glowed again.
And there he was.
James.
He stood not in Death Valley anymore—but in a strange, ethereal space where dimensions had blurred.
The entire world glowed in soft blue light, vast and endless, like being inside a living aurora.
Above him, massive floating orbs of blue energy hovered in the sky like moons.
It was SCP-3396—in its true form.
And it was beautiful. Terrifying. Holy.
"Is this... SCP-3396?!"
"I thought it would look monstrous. This is... magical!"
"Wait... is James trying to bond with it?"
At Kamar-Taj, the Ancient One felt her breath catch.
This wasn't just an anomaly. It was thaumaturgy incarnate.
She whispered, "It's not a creature... it's law itself. Magic, condensed and made manifest."
At the Xavier School, Professor X stared, eyes wide.
The glow from SCP-3396 triggered every X-gene on Earth to stir.
"This... this could evolve all mutants," he whispered in awe.
At the edge of the universe, Uatu the Watcher trembled.
SCP-3396 was no god. Not like the Crimson King or the Living Tribunal.
But its form reminded him of pure cosmic law—unchangeable, eternal.
And at its heart, James stood silently.
Looking up.
Facing the storm of magical particles that shaped SCP-3396's massive, undefined body.
Then, the being spoke.
"Accept me, and ascend."
Its voice echoed like a church bell struck in the soul. Reality quivered.
"Did... did that thing just SPEAK?!"
"Is it asking James to ascend?!"
"Oh my god... Is he gonna do it?!"
Nick Fury leaned in close, eyes fixed on James.
And just as James raised his foot to step forward...
He stopped.
Everyone froze.
"WHAT?!"
"Why isn't he moving?!"
Even SCP-3396's body pulsed in confusion.
James stared up at it.
Unmoved.
Calm.
He didn't see a god.
He saw a containment breach.
SCP-3396 tried again:
"You will awaken from your cocoon. You will become the serpent. Your world will burn, and be reborn. Accept me. Ascend!"
Still, James didn't move.
He only narrowed his eyes, analyzing.
Thinking.
SCP-3396 said one final thing:
"The Great Era of Magic has arrived. I grant you vision of the future."
Suddenly, the world twisted around James.
Images flooded his mind like a revolving lantern.
Year 44,211 (2018): Humans and Fae merge once again.
Magic surges across the globe.
Old laws, old guards, institutions—they all collapse.
No more secrecy. No more lies.
Even if clouds cover the sun... thunder still strikes.
And James?
He simply stood there.
Watching.
Unshaken.
Unmoved by promises of power.
He had seen the path of godhood.
And chose not to walk it.
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