Cold, controlled, sterile silence.
Havoc stumbled forward a few steps into the pocket dimension, still holding the little girl tightly in his arms. His breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly as adrenaline slowly began to drain from his body.
"…gk…g-go… rrr…run…"
That voice.
That raspy, broken voice echoed again in his mind.
He shook his head hard, trying to clear it.
"What… what the hell was that…" he muttered under his breath.
An anomaly… talking?
No… not just talking…
Warning him.
That thought didn't sit right with anything he knew about SCPs.
His grip tightened slightly around the girl—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind himself why he ran.
He could've stayed.
He could've scanned it.
He could've learned what it was.
But—
"No," he said quietly to himself, almost defensively. "No, I made the right call…"
He looked down at the girl in his arms.
Small. Light. Fragile.
Alive.
That was what mattered.
His thoughts snapped back into focus.
"System," he said quickly, urgency returning to his voice. "Medical sector. Now."
"Acknowledged. Transferring to Medical Sector."
The environment shifted instantly.
The metallic corridor dissolved into a wide, pristine medical facility. Bright white walls stretched in every direction, illuminated by soft overhead lighting. The air felt cleaner—filtered, controlled. Rows of advanced medical equipment lined the walls, some resembling familiar hospital tools, others far beyond anything Havoc had ever seen.
Havoc didn't stop walking.
"Is there anything here that can check her condition?" he asked, already scanning the room with his eyes.
"Affirmative. Medical Chamber Bed available."
A section of the room lit up, revealing a sleek, capsule-like bed. Its surface was smooth and metallic, lined with faint glowing lines that pulsed softly like a heartbeat. Above it, a semi-transparent scanning frame hovered, filled with shifting data patterns and diagnostic interfaces.
Havoc stepped toward it immediately.
Carefully—far more carefully than he had moved before—he lowered the girl onto the bed.
"Hey… it's okay," he said softly, even though she hadn't spoken much. "You're safe now."
The moment she made contact with the surface, the chamber activated.
Soft light passed over her body in slow, measured waves. A faint hum filled the room as the scanning frame above her began analyzing every inch of her condition.
"Medical scan initiated. Estimated completion time: five minutes."
Havoc exhaled slowly.
"Five minutes…" he muttered.
He ran a hand through his hair and stepped back, finally allowing himself a moment to breathe.
His legs felt heavier now.
The adrenaline was fading.
And everything that just happened started catching up to him.
Two anomalies.
Fighting.
A child almost caught in between.
And that thing…
That centipede…
It spoke.
He leaned against a nearby console, eyes drifting back to the girl.
Now that he wasn't running… now that he wasn't panicking…
He really looked at her.
And something clicked.
Her face.
Her eyes.
The shape of her features…
"…Why do I know you…?" he whispered.
It wasn't just familiarity.
It was recognition.
Like something he had seen before.
Something important.
But the answer stayed just out of reach.
He clenched his jaw slightly and looked away.
"Focus," he told himself quietly. "One problem at a time…"
He pushed himself upright again and looked toward the system interface.
"System," he said, regaining some composure. "Anything else here that can help scan her? Anything faster?"
"Negative. Current scan is optimal for accuracy. Medical Chamber Bed is designed to perform full biological analysis, internal diagnostics, structural integrity assessment, and anomaly detection if present."
Havoc nodded slowly.
"…Good," he said.
At least that part was handled.
But his mind didn't settle.
It shifted back.
To the forest.
To the two anomalies still out there.
He crossed his arms, staring at the floor for a moment.
"…How the hell am I supposed to deal with those two…" he muttered.
One was aggressive.
The other…
Wasn't.
Not exactly.
And that made it worse.
He closed his eyes briefly, trying to think.
Trying to plan.
Trying to prepare himself for whatever came next.
Because one thing was certain—
That wasn't over.
Not even close.
The soft hum of the medical chamber slowly came to a stop.
The glowing lines across the surface dimmed, and the scanning frame above the girl retracted slightly with a quiet mechanical sound.
"Scan complete."
Havoc straightened up immediately, pushing himself off the nearby console and stepping closer to the bed.
"Well?" he asked, his voice still carrying a bit of tension. "Is she okay?"
"The subject is stable."
The system's voice remained calm and precise.
"No internal injuries detected. No fractures. Heart rate and neural activity are within normal parameters for a human child under stress. However, the subject shows signs of malnutrition and mild dehydration."
Havoc froze slightly at that.
"…What?" he said under his breath.
His eyes dropped back down to the girl.
Now that he really looked—
Too light.
That wasn't just his imagination earlier.
His jaw tightened.
"…She's malnourished…?" he muttered.
"Affirmative. Nutritional deficiency detected. Dehydration levels are mild but present."
Something in his chest twisted.
He looked at her again, really looked this time—not just as someone he saved, but as a kid who had been living like this.
"…What kind of life…" he whispered.
His hands slowly clenched into fists.
Anger crept in.
Not loud.
Not explosive.
Just… there.
"…What the hell happened to you…" he muttered quietly.
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay focused.
"…Good," he said quietly.
He looked down at the girl again, watching her chest rise and fall steadily now.
Safe.
That's what mattered.
But the system didn't stop.
"However… there is an abnormality detected."
Havoc's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Abnormality?" he repeated.
"Affirmative. The subject contains an internal biological irregularity consistent with the potential for anomalous capability."
That made him pause.
His expression shifted—curiosity mixing with caution.
"…You're saying she has an ability?" he asked slowly.
"Possible. Not confirmed."
Havoc's gaze lingered on her.
A kid…
With something inside her?
His mind immediately ran through possibilities. None of them comforting.
"…What kind of ability?" he asked.
There was a brief pause.
"Insufficient data."
Havoc blinked.
"…You're kidding me."
"Medical Chamber Bed is currently operating at basic level. Further analysis requires upgrade."
Havoc already knew what was coming.
He rubbed his face with one hand.
"…Let me guess."
"Upgrade requirement: containment of seven anomalies."
There it is.
He exhaled slowly, dragging his hand down his face before letting it drop.
"…Of course it is."
He stood there for a moment, staring at nothing in particular, letting that information sink in.
Then he gave a small, tired smirk.
"Yeah… yeah, I get it," he muttered sarcastically. "Everything I need to survive, understand, and not die horribly… all locked behind catching more SCPs."
He shook his head lightly.
"Great system design. Love that."
"Your sarcasm has been detected."
"Yeah, no kidding," Havoc shot back under his breath.
But this time…
He didn't get angry.
Didn't yell.
Didn't snap.
He just took a breath.
Then another.
"…Alright," he said, calmer now. "Fine. I'll work with what I got."
His eyes returned to the girl.
There was another option.
"…Or I just ask her," he said quietly.
He crossed his arms slightly, thinking it through.
She trusted him.
At least enough to let him carry her.
That alone was a huge risk on her part.
Especially considering how he looked.
Havoc glanced down at himself.
The prototype uniform.
The weapon.
The overall… not-normal appearance.
"…Yeah," he muttered. "I don't exactly look friendly."
He sighed.
"If she does have something… something like an ability…"
His gaze softened slightly as he looked at her again.
"…she probably doesn't even understand it herself."
And even if she did—
She was still a kid.
Put in front of a giant centipede and a walking piñata monster?
Yeah.
Anyone would panic.
"…Yeah… asking her directly right now is not the move," he said quietly to himself.
First—
Trust.
Then questions.
He nodded slightly, settling on that decision.
Then he looked back toward the system interface.
"System," he said, "when is she going to wake up?"
"Estimated recovery time: one hour."
He raised an eyebrow.
"One hour?"
"The subject experienced extreme psychological stress and loss of consciousness. Recovery requires rest."
Havoc nodded slowly.
"…Makes sense."
He looked back at her one more time.
"…At least she's okay."
That alone eased something in his chest.
But that relief didn't last long.
Because his mind shifted again.
Back to the forest.
Back to the two anomalies still out there.
His expression hardened slightly.
"…Two of them," he muttered.
One aggressive.
One…
Not.
And that second one…
"…Why did it help me…" he whispered.
No answer.
Only more questions.
He straightened up fully now.
"Alright," he said under his breath. "Can't ignore this."
If there was one kid—
There were more.
A village.
People.
And if those two things were still out there…
Then this wasn't over.
Not even close.
He walked over to where his weapons had been placed near the medical area.
He picked up his pistol first, checking its weight, its feel.
Then his rifle.
Quick check.
Grip.
Stability.
Position.
Everything was still unfamiliar—but better than before.
"…Still not great at this," he muttered.
But he didn't have a choice.
He slung the rifle back into position and adjusted his gear.
Then looked toward the system.
"Notify me the moment she wakes up," he said.
"Acknowledged. Notification will be issued immediately upon subject consciousness recovery."
Havoc nodded once.
"Good."
He turned toward the exit.
"Open the door."
"Acknowledged."
The metal doorway formed again in front of him, the same reinforced hatch from before, unfolding into existence with mechanical precision.
Beyond it—
The outside world waited.
The forest.
The danger.
The unknown.
Havoc took a breath.
Then stepped forward.
"…Round two," he muttered.
And walked back out to face the two anomalies.
Hoping—
He wasn't already too late.
Havoc burst back out into the jungle.
The heat hit him first.
Then the humidity.
Then the weight.
He ran anyway.
Branches snapped under his boots as he pushed forward, breathing already uneven again. The gear on his body dragged at him—rifle, pistol, vest—everything felt heavier now that the adrenaline had settled earlier.
"…Damn it…" he muttered, forcing his legs to keep moving.
He wasn't built for this.
Not really.
Not like a soldier.
But that didn't matter.
He had a mission.
Two anomalies.
And if they reached anything—or anyone—
He didn't even want to finish that thought.
"System," he said between breaths, "how far are they now?"
"Updating position… Targets have shifted. Current distance: within close proximity."
Havoc's eyes narrowed.
"They moved…"
Of course they did.
"No nearby human settlements detected within immediate radius."
That made him exhale slightly.
"…Good," he muttered.
At least for now.
He kept running.
Then—
He heard it.
Paper tearing.
Rustling.
A harsh, scraping screech—like something chitinous grinding against wood.
Havoc slowed just enough to steady his footing.
"…That's them…"
He pushed forward through the last line of brush—
And broke into the clearing.
They were still there.
Still fighting.
The centipede anomaly coiled tightly around the piñata anomaly, its long segmented body wrapped like a living chain. Its chitin scraped loudly as it tightened, trying to restrain it.
The piñata anomaly struggled violently.
Its rigid limbs jerked forward again and again, trying to force its way past the centipede. Pieces of its outer shell tore loose, candy scattering across the ground—but it didn't stop.
It kept pushing.
South.
Havoc noticed that immediately.
"…Why that direction…?" he muttered.
Then it hit him.
"…Something's there…"
Something deeper in the jungle.
Something it was trying to reach.
His grip tightened on his rifle.
"Doesn't matter," he said under his breath. "You're not getting there."
He took a step forward—
Then stopped.
The centipede.
It wasn't attacking him.
It wasn't even paying attention to him.
It was only focused on stopping the piñata.
Holding it.
Restraining it.
Protecting…?
Havoc exhaled slowly.
"…Alright," he said quietly. "You're like Ben and Jerry, huh…"
Relief crept in.
Just a little.
At least he wasn't dealing with two enemies.
But still—
He didn't know what it was.
Didn't know if he could trust it.
But—
"Beggars can't be choosers…" he muttered.
He made his decision.
Trust it.
For now.
While the centipede held the piñata in place, Havoc raised his arm.
"Ares," he said quickly. "Scan both targets."
The bracelet activated instantly.
A faint projection flickered to life as the scan began.
"Analysis initiated. Estimated time: five minutes."
Havoc glanced at the timer.
"…Five minutes?!"
Of course.
Always five minutes.
He gritted his teeth.
"Fine… just—hurry it up…"
A loud screech snapped his attention back.
The centipede shifted—
Its coils loosening slightly.
The piñata anomaly jerked forward, forcing space between them.
It was breaking free.
"…No, no, no—!"
Havoc looked around quickly.
Think.
Think.
Think.
He scanned the area—
Then saw it.
Vines.
Thick.
Flexible.
"…That'll work."
He moved fast.
He grabbed his combat knife from his vest and slashed through several hanging vines, cutting them down in quick, rough motions. He bundled them together, twisting them tightly into a makeshift rope.
Not perfect.
But it didn't need to be.
He just needed a second.
He spun the vine rope in his hand, testing the weight—
Then gave a quick, almost delirious grin.
"…Yeah… yeah, let's do this…"
He started swinging it like a lasso.
"Yeehaw!"
He threw it.
First try—
It wrapped around the piñata anomaly.
"…No way—!"
He planted his feet and pulled hard.
The resistance hit instantly.
Like trying to drag a car.
His arms screamed in protest.
"Oh hell no—!"
He dug his boots into the dirt, gripping tighter.
"¡No me jodas, maldita piñata demoníaca!"
The rope strained in his hands as the anomaly pulled forward.
His muscles burned.
Every inch of his body protested.
"…Should've… worked out more…" he groaned through clenched teeth. "Lifted… something… anything…"
The piñata jerked again—
But the centipede slammed back into it, wrapping around its body once more, reinforcing the hold.
Now both of them were pulling.
Holding.
Stopping it.
Havoc let out a strained breath.
"…Yeah… teamwork… that's new…"
The rope cut into his palms.
His arms shook.
But he didn't let go.
Then—
"Analysis complete."
Havoc's eyes snapped to the Ares display.
"Finally!"
"Tell me what they are—and how do I stop that thing?!"
"Analysis complete."
The Ares display flickered to life in front of Havoc.
"Target one: anomalous entity resembling a piñata construct."
The system began its explanation, tone calm and precise.
"The anomaly remains passive under normal conditions. Activation occurs when a human under the age of twelve enters within close proximity."
Havoc's grip tightened on the vine.
"…What…?"
"Upon activation, the target immobilizes the child completely. The victim remains conscious but unable to move or speak. The anomaly then approaches and proceeds to bludgeon the victim until the torso ruptures."
Havoc's eyes widened.
"…No…"
"Following termination of the victim, the body converts into large quantities of candy. In some cases, if the candy is consumed by another child, the subject undergoes complete transformation into another instance of the anomaly."
Everything clicked at once.
The direction it was heading.
South.
"…A village…" he muttered under his breath.
If it reached more children—
His stomach twisted.
"…No… no way…"
"Current target is not the original instance. It is a secondary manifestation created through conversion."
Havoc froze.
"…Say that again."
"This entity was once a human child. Conversion has been completed. No reversal method detected."
Something inside him snapped.
"…You're telling me…"
His voice trembled, anger rising fast.
"…this thing… used to be a kid?"
The piñata anomaly jerked forward again, pulling against both him and the centipede.
Candy spilled from its torn frame.
Havoc's grip shook.
"…This bastard…" he growled.
"…already killed one…"
His breathing became heavier.
"…And turned them into this…?!"
Rage flooded in.
Hot.
Sharp.
Uncontrolled.
Then—
"Director."
The system's voice cut through it.
"The entity no longer qualifies as human. It is an anomalous construct."
Havoc clenched his teeth.
"…Don't say that like it makes it easier…"
"Termination is recommended. Effective methods include ballistic force and fire."
His hands tightened.
The rope strained.
The anomaly pulled again.
Still trying to go south.
Still trying to reach more children.
Havoc's expression hardened.
"…Yeah…"
He swallowed hard.
"…I know…"
But his hand didn't move.
His body refused.
"…I can't just…"
His voice cracked slightly.
"…pull the trigger on a kid…"
"Clarification: the child is no longer present."
Silence.
"Termination would prevent further victims."
That hit him.
Hard.
His eyes shut tightly for a brief second.
"…End its suffering…"
He took a shaky breath.
"…or let it keep doing this…"
The choice wasn't really a choice.
"…Damn it…"
With all his strength, he held the vine rope with one hand—
And with the other—
He reached for his pistol.
His arm trembled as he raised it.
"…I'm sorry…" he whispered.
Then—
He fired.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Each shot slammed into the piñata anomaly's body, tearing through its structure. Pieces broke apart, candy bursting outward with every impact.
The anomaly jerked violently.
Still moving.
Still resisting.
Havoc kept firing.
"Stay down!" he shouted, voice cracking.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The centipede tightened its grip again—
But the bullets didn't discriminate.
Several rounds struck its chitin as well, sharp impacts echoing against its armored body.
Havoc didn't stop.
He couldn't stop.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
"Just—STOP!!"
The piñata staggered.
Its body weakened.
Then—
One final shot.
Straight through its head.
The structure collapsed.
The movement stopped.
Silence.
The jungle went still.
Havoc stood there, breathing hard, arm still extended.
The pistol trembled in his grip.
Then—
The tension broke.
He let go of the vine rope.
It fell from his hand as his strength gave out.
His knees hit the ground hard.
He dropped down, shoulders shaking, both hands coming up to cover his face.
His breath came in broken, uneven bursts.
"…I'm sorry…" he whispered.
"…I'm sorry…"
Over and over again.
As tears slipped through his fingers.