As he exists the alleyway, it feels different now. Smaller. Constrained. And something in the darkness flickered, subtle, like a doorway between reality and impossibility.
The ground beneath his feet shivered. Before he could react it gave way.
He fell.
Into an unknown space, filled with darkness. It clung to him like thick oil, liquid yet infinite. His body... vanished. Every shred of clothing, every protection ripped away. He was weightless immobile, stripped bare.
Voices began to swirl around him, layered and unknown. They were not human. Not fully. All of them different, yet the same.
"This is the man who entered the realm of godhood?"— one voice rings out in a demeaning tone
"Interesting... there hasn't been a man-made god in ages."—Another rings out in a confused tone
"He looks useless. Throw him Away." — Another voice states
"No, that's mean. Don't do that!" — A more feminine voice says, in a tone of warmth and kindness
"Get him out of my sight." — As soon as this voice reached Greed's ears an unexplainable phenomena occurred.
The void expelled him. And it was suddenly bright noon.
He was falling out of the sky. His whereabouts? Unknown. His Destination? The bottom of the woods, food for the wild-life.
He attempted to slow the fall, aiming for the branches, clawing at the air before embracing himself for impact—but it was useless.
" FUCKKKKKKKK-" his erupt shout interrupted.
Greed's body slammed into the forest floor. Pain exploded in his chest, limbs, back—every nerve igniting. The world spun, trees flashing past his eyes. Every instinct screamed that this was the end.
And then—nothing.
He tried to move. His arms, legs, chest—intact. No shattered bones. No broken ribs. No crushed skin. Even the jagged rocks and roots that should have torn him apart had done… nothing.
White letters burned into his vision, crisp, clear:
'IMPACT FORTITUDE' UNLOCKED-CONDITION: Death by falling from great heights- EFFECT: Body resists fatal impact; severe injuries are mitigated, allowing survival
Greed staggered to his feet, chest heaving, still tasting blood that wasn't there. He tested it instinctively, jumping onto a thick tree branch, then letting himself fall again. Pain came, a sharp sting—but not enough to stop him. Not enough to kill him.
A hollow laugh escaped his lips. Breathless. Terrified. Exhilarated.
"So… nothing can kill me from a fall?" he whispered."This can't be fair."
The golden aura flickered faintly around his body, barely noticeable at first, but growing stronger with his heartbeat, his awareness.
For the first time since that night, Greed understood something fundamental: death had become a teacher, and he was a very fast learner.
--
Hours—or maybe minutes—passed. Time seemed meaningless. The golden aura around him pulsed faintly, almost alive, responding to his heartbeat, his instinctual focus. Shadows recoiled as he passed, the air heavy with the weight of something unnatural.
Eventually, he came across a village. Smoke spiraled lazily from chimneys; the faint smell of cooking drifted through the night air. Children ran between houses—but froze as they saw him. Adults stepped back, eyes wide with fear, murmuring prayers and curses under their breath.
Greed raised a hand, attempting to calm them. "I don't want to hurt anyone," he said softly, voice echoing unnaturally in the still night.
They scattered. Every single one.
He finally noticed the aura fully. A faint golden shimmer enveloped him, a visible sign of something beyond human. It felt powerful. It felt alive. It felt like… godhood.
Before he could dwell further, sharp alarms pierced the quiet. Lights flickered at the village's edge, and sleek black vehicles tore down the road. Men in tactical gear emerged, moving with machine-like precision. SCP Foundation.
Greed's eyes narrowed. "So they know… They know exactly what I want," he muttered under his breath.
The agents raised their weapons, a chorus of mechanical clicks and suppressors snapping into place. Greed froze for a heartbeat, feeling the tension of trained killers around him.
A sudden dart shot from a hidden launcher, striking his shoulder. Pain flared sharply. He stumbled.
Greed collapsed to the ground, body heavy and rigid. He wasn't dying—he wasn't learning—just frozen, paralyzed by the agent. The golden aura flickered but did not intensify.
Minutes passed. The agents moved cautiously, scanning for any other threats.
One agent muttered into a radio. "Found the large radiational disturbance. Large humanoid. Golden-light aura. Neutralized with non-lethal measures. Preparing for transport.""
The recipient of the Radio responds —
"Well done, thoroughly subdue before bringing back to base."
"Understood."
Greed was strapped to the stretcher, eyes scanning the surrounding forest. Every movement, every intention of the agents was cataloged in his mind. He wasn't afraid. He was learning. He knew they would take him where he wanted to go.
The helicopter ride was smooth, the night sky rushing beneath him. He felt the golden light growing brighter, more tangible.
As the facility came into view, lights cutting through the forest like search beams, Greed's eyes narrowed. The towering walls, the reinforced gates, the armed personnel—it was all too surreal.
He was carried through the gates, past checkpoints, into a sterile transport chamber. Each keycard swipe, each scanner, each electronic lock was noted. All of it would be useful.
Once inside the base, he was deposited into a containment cell. Cold metal, reinforced walls, sensors scanning every heartbeat, every pulse of golden light. Greed looked around. Nothing here could kill him. Nothing here could teach him—yet.
After the paralytic agent wore off, he sat on the floor— Back against the wall, eyes glowing faintly with the golden aura. Silence reigned. Only the mechanical hum of the base and distant voices echoed.
He took this time to think over what had happened.
"What were those voices?"
"Is this where they keep... those things?"
"I know where they operate, now I need to escape..."
Outside his cell, the Foundation continued preparations, unaware that the anomaly they captured was already cataloging every detail, plotting his escape from their impregnable facility.
Static was heard in the corner of his cell—
"Hello. Can you understand me."
Greed remained silent. His eyes darting towards the speakers, he gives a nod.
"I'll take that as a yes, I am the current Senior Researcher. To be frank, I will determine what happens to you. Whether you live or die completely relies on me."
Greed stood up breaking his silence— "Die? Was that a threat?"
"So you speak, haha. Apologies, I'm just a very honest man. Let's start with introductions, what's your name? Don't be sh—"
The researcher was interrupted by alarms blaring.
Speakers throughout the facility spoke on loop—
Code Red. Code Red. This is not a test. I repeat this is not a test. Breach. I repeat Breach. Please Evacuate Immediately
Alarms blared throughout the facility, red lights flashing against sterile white walls. Greed's cell shuddered violently, steel groaning as if alive.
The door burst outward. The SCP—long, reptilian, limbs bending in ways human bodies were never meant to—slid into the chamber with unnatural grace. Its claws extended, each one a gleaming scythe of destruction.
Greed's first instinct kicked in. He twisted, the first slash missing him by mere inches. A breathless smirk spread across his face as the creature recoiled and recalculated.
The claws came again, faster this time. He leapt onto the creature's back, wrapping his arms around its neck. Talons scraped against his torso as it bucked violently, throwing him into the wall with a bone-jarring impact. Pain flared, and he loses consciousness.
The SCP turns away contempt before approaching the cowering fear stricken researcher.
Greed's consciousness comes back.
'BLUNT FORCE RESISTANCE' UNLOCKED-CONDITION: Death by crushing or blunt trauma- EFFECT: Body resists fatal impact from blunt forces
And he arose. A man back from the dead. Chest heaving, eyes glowing faintly golden. He walks out of his cell. Around him, the hallway was a tomb of shattered glass and lifeless guards.
The researcher cowered at the far end, eyes wide, voice trembling. "Y-you… you can't—"
Greed's aura flared. He stepped forward from behind the SCP, the creature tilting its head, confusion rippling across its alien features. "Me and you aren't done yet," he said calmly, voice carrying over the chaos.
The reptilian SCP lunged. Greed sidestepped the first strike, letting its claw swipe harmlessly past him. He leapt onto its back again, hands digging into sinewy flesh, squeezing with inhuman strength. The creature bucked, but this time, he held on, gripping tighter.
It hurled him against the wall. He fell off the creatures back but no injuries were sustained.
The hallway became a whirlwind of motion—Greed dodging, taking hits that should have ended him, retaliating, clawing, grabbing, learning.
Finally, with a roar, his aura exploded into golden brilliance. He met the creature's next strike head-on, tanked it, and drove his arms around its neck once again.
"You scum, absolute scum."
Greed's eyes erupt with madness, relapsing what happened that fateful night.
"I won't let you... LIVE A SINGLE SECOND LONGER. I WONT STOP UNTIL I'VE ERADICATED YOUR SPECIES OF THE FACE OF THIS PLANET"— He screams with unyielding devotion
Muscles bulging, tendons snapping with force, he squeezed. The creature screamed in fury, in confusion… and then, with a final shudder, its neck snapped.
The researcher fell into shock, muttering in disbelief: "It—it's a god…"
Greed stepped past him, aura still glowing, breathing steady but charged. He turned one last time. "Pick yourself up, you look pathetic."
He ran.
Walls, fences, and gates became meaningless obstacles. He leapt, sprinted, moving with speed that blurred the world around him. The golden aura dimmed gradually, fading as his body's unnatural limits cooled back toward normal.
Hours later—though time felt meaningless—he slowed near a building lit by harsh fluorescent lights. A flag hung overhead. He blinked. IKEA. Concrete, parking lot, mundane as the world could be. Dozens of miles from the facility, yet alive.
He crouched behind a display of flat-pack furniture, the hum of the fluorescent lights a gentle reminder that he had survived, adapted, and learned.
For a moment, Greed let himself breathe.
Then, his jaw tightened. The hunt wasn't over. Not for him. Not for that man who kills his family.
The world was wide, dangerous, as he was contemplating what to do, suddenly… his senses went off.
In a rush he attempts to find an exit, just for there to be none. He looks around, confused. Rushing around Ikea trying to find an exit but to no avail.
He knew this had to be the work of an anomaly. Was he trapped? Or was it trapped with him?