The metal briefcase, its red LED blinking, was the only beacon in the vast darkness of the level. Alex, utterly exhausted, had set it aside after a series of futile attempts to open it. His fingers had tried every numerical combination he could recall from old spy movies, but the digital lock remained inert. The LED's pulse was a taunt.
"This briefcase is more stubborn than a mule," Alex gasped, his voice barely a whisper in the immensity. His chest camera showed the briefcase and the rough concrete; his lens camera, the frustration in his pixelated eyes. The constant dripping of water, amplified by his Enhanced Hearing, was the only soundtrack in this underground mausoleum.
The chat, ever full of opinions, weighed in:
[Bruce Wayne]: "A digital lock. Possibly a biometric or contextual access key. Don't force it. Information is more valuable."
[The Professor]: "Patience is key, Alex. Every detail counts. Sometimes, the solution is the most obvious. Or the most unexpected."
[User_Tech]: "Try a factory reset! Press all the buttons at once!"
[Rick Sanchez]: "Break the damn thing, Alex! Violence is always the answer when intelligence isn't enough!"
Excitement points received: +800 (for frustration and advice)
Alex considered Rick's idea. The temptation to smash the briefcase was strong, but his curiosity about its contents was even stronger. If someone had bothered to leave it there, it had to be important. Suddenly, an idea sparked. He remembered the wooden doll with the "P" he carried in his backpack, the very one the human hunters had screamed they wanted. Could it be a key?
He pulled out the doll. It was small, smooth, the "P" crudely carved. He brought it close to the briefcase's digital lock. Nothing happened. Alex sighed. "Well, chat, looks like my wooden friend isn't a universal treasure unlocker," he quipped, a humorless laugh escaping him.
He continued exploring the vast cavern. The bioluminescent lights became scarcer, forcing him to rely on his flashlight. Massive concrete pillars rose into an impenetrable darkness that swallowed the light. The dripping water was now the only sound, a monotonous hammering that could drive him mad.
Time blurred. Hours. Alex felt the exhaustion in his bones, solitude a choking gag. Grief for the lost man hit him in waves, a sharp, aching void. Was all of this worth it? What the hell was he even doing here?
It was then that he felt it. A vibration. Not in the ground, but in the air, through his lenses. A distortion, a flicker at the edge of his vision. His Enhanced Hearing picked up a faint screech, like metal on glass. He snapped his head up.
Ahead of him, in what looked like a solid concrete wall, a luminous fissure began to form, similar to the one he had crossed, but this one was larger, more defined, and glowed with a cold, white light. The screech intensified, like that of giant glass being scraped. Alex froze, his pistol ready.
The chat reacted with immediate recognition:
[Neo]: "Another threshold. A new door opens. It's not a trap. It's a path."
[Tony Stark]: "It's a translocation, Alex! Prepare for phase compression! And don't touch the glow!"
[User_Excited]: "Another level! Let's go, Echo!"
[Freddy Krueger]: "Oh, how eager you are to leap into the abyss, Alex. Curiosity killed the cat... and the YouTuber."
Excitement points generated: +4000 (New portal!)
Alex approached cautiously. The fissure grew into an oval portal, pulsing with an iridescent light that distorted the space around it. He could see a reflection of the concrete environment on the pulsing surface, but it was warped, like in a shattered mirror. There was no sound. Only the light and the inaudible screech his skill detected.
He felt drawn to it. After the claustrophobia of the concrete caves, this light was a promise. He made a decision. It was a risk, but staying here was a slow condemnation.
Without hesitation, Alex plunged into the portal. The sensation was the same: a pressure on his body, a whirlwind of colors. But this time, it was smoother, almost like sliding through a membrane.
When his feet touched the ground, Alex found himself standing. The floor was smooth and gleaming, a perfect reflection of an immaculate ceiling. The walls were crystal panels, but not natural crystal; they were smooth, perfectly cut, and reflected everything around him, creating an illusion of infinity. The air was crisp, almost cold, and the silence was absolute—a total absence of sound that resonated louder than any hum. There was no dripping. No scent.
He was in a mirror maze.
NEW SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: YOU HAVE LEFT THE DELIMITED ZONE. INITIATING NEW ZONE.
AUDIENCE REACTS TO NEW ZONE: +7000 EXCITEMENT POINTS (STUNNING CHANGE!)
The chat exploded with awe and theories:
[User_Amazed]: "This is incredible! A mirror maze! What a level!"
[Neo]: "Reality is a reflection, Alex. Be careful what you think you see."
[Batman]: "A visually disorienting environment. Perception is your enemy. Don't trust reflections."
[Rick Sanchez]: "This is much better! Now let Alex get lost in his own insecurities and go insane!"
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: SKILL LEVEL UNLOCKED: BASIC NAVIGATION.
EXCITEMENT POINTS RECEIVED: +5000 (for new level surprise)
Alex blinked, trying to comprehend his surroundings. Every direction was a reflection of another, creating a visual chaos that made him dizzy. His chest camera captured an infinity of Alexes, an army of pixelated figures stretching to the horizon. His lens camera was worse, every reflection overlapping, making it hard to distinguish reality from illusion.
"Okay, okay," Alex muttered, closing his eyes for a second to readjust. "This is... this is insane! Where am I? In an interdimensional circus funhouse?"
But the disorientation was short-lived. A new notification flickered in his lenses. "Basic Navigation: Improved navigation in complex environments. Moderate Excitement Point consumption." At the same time, his eyes began to perceive a subtle distinction in the reflections, a slight variation in the shade of some crystals that allowed him to discern what was a real hallway from a mirrored wall.
"Alright, chat, looks like I've got my own built-in GPS for mazes," Alex said, a smile creeping onto his face. "This is useful. Very useful."
He turned, looking for a direction. There was no trace of the portal he had entered through. He was trapped again. And alone. The loss of the man hit him again, a bitter echo in the reflective silence.
But then, his lenses flickered with a notification that surpassed all others:
NEW SUMMONING OPTION UNLOCKED:
SCP FOUNDATION GUARD (LOYAL)
COST: 10,000 EXCITEMENT POINTS
Alex froze. An SCP Foundation Guard? Here? He had read about the Foundation in countless fiction stories: a secret organization that contained anomalies. Was this part of the Foundation? Or was the System borrowing concepts from fiction? His excitement point counter glowed: 18,000. He had enough!
The chat, oblivious to the notification in his lenses, reacted to his sudden stillness.
[Bruce Wayne]: "A pause. What did you see, Alex? Information is key."
[Dr. Sheldon Cooper]: "His immobility indicates critical data processing. Perhaps he detected a new anomaly."
[Rick Sanchez]: "Don't just stand there, you idiot! Something's watching you! Kill it!"
[User_Intrigued]: "Why did he stop? What did he see?"
Excitement points received: +1500 (for pause in action)
Alex ignored the chat for a moment. His mind raced a thousand miles an hour. A guard. Loyal. An ally. Not a generic mercenary, but an SCP Foundation guard. That meant training, gear, knowledge. It was an opportunity. It was his chance not to be alone, to have someone by his side who could fight, who could think, who could be his support.
With trembling hands, Alex selected the option.
In the center of the mirror hallway, with a flicker of light that seemed to absorb the surrounding reflection, a figure materialized. It was a tall man in a dark, armored tactical uniform, a gas mask completely obscuring his face. He carried a P90 at rest and a belt full of gear. His posture was professional, alert, ready.
Alex felt a wave of relief so profound it almost brought him to his knees. It wasn't a doll. It wasn't an inert body. It was an ally.
The guard slowly turned, his gaze (though hidden by the mask) seemed to fix directly on Alex. Then, in a calm, robotic voice, yet with undeniable authority, he spoke:
"Agent Echo. I have arrived. My mission is to join you."
Alex, the eighteen-year-old kid ripped from his armchair, the pop culture master, looked at the guard. His show had just become much more complex. And much more interesting.