Talloran roared with fury—
Unleashing three million years' worth of pain and rage!
It felt like the entire livestream audience was screaming with him.
As if SCP-3999 was no longer the unstoppable nightmare it once was.
> [Talloran: I've got to say—you're headed for hell, but we're already there.]
> [SCP-3999: SYSTEM ERROR. DATA CORRUPTED. CONTACT SITE ADMINISTRATOR FOR MORE INFORMATION.]
> *[SCP-3999 spent five years melting Researcher Talloran. The Dunkleuk feasted on the slime. SCP-3999 is not 580.]
And with that—the interview ended.
Apparently, SCP-3999 destroyed Talloran again in the final moment.
But this time…
There was no despair.
Only excitement.
> "Five years!"
Lois punched the air with glee. "What does that mean?!"
Zyn, eyes wide and flushed with excitement, turned to her.
> "It means SCP-3999's power is fading!"
> "Isn't it supposed to be immortal?" Lois asked with a wry grin.
> "The more a thing is lacking," Zyn replied, "the more it tries to show off."
Leon Lake took a deep breath and smiled faintly.
> "Which means… SCP-3999 is no longer immortal."
---
> [SCP-3999 is a serious threat to reality. It should be contained in its own vomit chamber.]
> [Researcher Talloran will be held accountable for his own instability.]
> [SCP-3999 is not scary.]
> [All researchers dislike SCP-3999 and prefer other SCPs.]
---
The file was nearly finished.
SCP-3999 had started out like a god.
It tormented Talloran in endless ways—trying to break his will and seize his body.
But three million years later…
It wasn't frightening anymore.
SCP-3999 had grown afraid.
---
O5 Council members and supervisors across the Foundation let out a collective breath of relief.
The nightmare seemed to be ending.
> "Leon… Is this real?" one supervisor asked, her voice shaky.
Leon looked at her with a heavy expression.
> "To us, this may be just a document…"
> "But for Researcher Talloran, trapped in that hell—every single day of those three million years was real."
> "The pain was real."
> "The confusion… the despair… and the hope—were all real."
> "Then all those crossed-out parts of the file—?"
> "Every bizarre, chaotic line," Leon confirmed, "is something SCP-3999 actually did to its 'toy'. All of it happened."
---
Even Leon's voice trembled as he recalled the horrors Talloran had endured.
Another O5 Council member spoke up:
> "But I still don't understand… how are SCP-3999 and Talloran the same? How do you fight what's inside you?"
Leon turned his gaze toward the final document in the file—a blank sheet.
He picked it up with a faint smile.
> "Maybe… Talloran himself can answer that."
Then, as everyone watched—
Lines of text slowly appeared on the previously blank page.
---
> This is a story about fading things. About flickers. About realities that disappear.
> First, Talloran noticed certain researchers were being forgotten. Then a country—Belgium—and a mug on his desk vanished. His toes disappeared one by one. Then Montana. Then stars began to flicker out.
> Windows vanished from before his eyes. Leaves disappeared from branches.
> He looked down and found only two fingers and a thumb left.
> Everything was fading. Until—
> Using his nearly limbless body, Talloran typed one last entry into a vanishing keyboard in the final containment chamber in the universe.
> Then his eyes disappeared. His computer. His last finger.
> Finally, his body—without eyes, ears, limbs, or mouth—disappeared.
> And then… the containment chamber disappeared too.
---
The livestream exploded into stunned silence.
> The universe… disappeared?
---
S.H.I.E.L.D.
> "The universe disappeared?" Natasha Romanoff gasped. "Is that metaphorical… or literal?"
Maria Hill leaned in, reminding her:
> "Remember what Leon said earlier?"
Natasha's eyes widened.
If everything in the document actually happened…
> "No way. That's not possible."
> "Nothing is impossible," said Nick Fury grimly.
> "Don't forget—SCP-3999 is Apollyon-class. There's never been anything like it."
Romanoff felt a chill crawl down her spine.
One term echoed in her mind:
> ZK-Class End-of-Reality Scenario.
---
Observer Dimension
Even Uatu the Watcher was frozen.
> "The universe… vanished?"
Shock spread across his ageless face.
He had watched white nebulae drift through the cosmos…
He had witnessed black holes, pulsar storms, the death of stars.
But all of that existed within a universe.
And now—
> "Can a single anomaly erase the entire universe?"
Even the Watcher, who had seen everything, was speechless.
---
The Void
Grandmaster watched silently.
Then, without a word, he dismissed any thought of ever trying to "collect" SCP-3999.
---
Back in the Foundation,
The supervisor holding the document trembled.
She glanced toward the O5 Council.
Then at Leon Lake.
At first, she hadn't truly believed his theory about a ZK-Class scenario.
But now…
She was terrified.
This theory might not be a theory at all.
---
> "It was just a random accident. I don't know how to describe it."
> "I can't stop thinking about Talloran."
> "Weeks passed. I'd catch myself imagining him at work, in class. Trying to fit him into a psychology lecture. He wouldn't leave my mind."
> "I kept trying. Time passed. Then—finally—it hit me."
The supervisor looked up, stunned.
Leon spoke softly:
> "As I said—SCP-3999 and Talloran share a body. 3999 is trapped in the Tower of Sheep."
Zyn frowned.
> "So… when the universe began fading, SCP-3999 appeared in Talloran's mind as Talloran? Trying to replace him?"
> "Exactly," Leon nodded. "That's when the real psychological war began."
---
> [DATA EXPUNGED] At 1:00 AM, it began.
> I woke up paralyzed. My eyes barely opened. I couldn't breathe. My limbs refused to move. I lay there, suffocating in what felt like endless minutes of torment.
> Then I saw him—James Martin Talloran—Level 3 Researcher.
> He stood at the foot of my bed, a silhouette darker than shadow. But I knew it was him. He stared with glowing eyes and laughed—a cruel, inhuman laugh that made me wet the bed.
> Then, from within his coat, he pulled a jagged dagger. Its cold steel shimmered in the moonlight. He slid it into his mouth… and sliced it sideways.
The scene leapt off the page.
Even battle-hardened viewers from the Marvel universe turned pale.
Zyn and Lois turned ghost-white.
> Compared to three million years of torment, this was just the beginning...
---
> Like a call summoning a loyal hound, the fear in my soul pulled shadows from every dark place.
> Nightmares took shape—lizard monsters, gear-men, deer gods, eye-creatures, statues that moved when unseen.
> Even a kind old man—who may not be kind at all.
> They all stood still.
> They looked down at me, covered in filth, and asked:
> "Why waste your time on us? We're garbage. You could've written something great. You could've stood out."
---
The screen was silent.
But the livestream chat erupted:
> "What the hell?!"
> "SCP-3999 is manipulating him! Trying to seduce Talloran into giving up!"
> "It's evil—pure evil!"
---
S.H.I.E.L.D.
> "682. 173. The Deer God…" Natasha whispered, recognizing the references.
> "Physical torture didn't work," said Fury, voice low. "So now it's trying psychological warfare."
Suddenly, a terrifying thought entered his mind.
> What if Talloran had given in?
> What would the world be like now?
His face went pale.
---
> The nightmares stared at me. One—the corpse—tapped Talloran on the shoulder.
> He stepped forward. The dagger still bloody. His eyes like crimson stars, burning through me.
> I whimpered. Then forced my lips to move.
> "Let's do it."
---
---
Author's Note:
> The pace of this arc has been slow. I hope readers understand.
> SCP-3999, among all the anomalies, has always deeply touched me. It's raw, emotional, and horrifying—and a monument to the strength of the human spirit.
> The hymn of mankind is the hymn of courage.
> And that is what Talloran represents.