webnovel

SCP: "The Rise of The Administrator"

Léonard Dumont, a 16-year-old French teenager and geek of the SCP Foundation's myths, one day receives a notification on his computer from the SCP Foundation Management System. His duty is to build the SCP Foundation has The Administrator of the Foundation. This story is a mix of several canons of the Foundation. Mix everything with our own real world to add a weight of realism to all this. This is my very first story, I hope you will enjoy it and I am open to all criticism and comments.

phamtom3000 · Sci-fi
Not enough ratings
94 Chs

Chapter 53: Welp, I guess I’ll [REDACTED]

Chapter 53: Welp, I guess I'll [REDACTED]

In the depths of Site Lamedh, a few days after the harrowing events in the Black Forest, the atmosphere was tense. The once bustling halls had thinned out as multiple MTFs had departed the day before, returning to their respective posts. Omega-7 was among those preparing to leave, their destination the renowned Site-17, where their headquarters awaited. The team was getting ready to return, the echoes of their last mission still fresh in their minds.

Lina, alone in her temporary celm, was quietly packing her belongings into a small suitcase. Each item was meticulously placed, though her mind wandered, replaying the events that had unfolded. The air was still, the calm before the storm.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion shattered the silence. The ground shook violently beneath her feet, and she nearly lost her balance. Lina's heart pounded as the shockwave rattled the walls. Before she could process what was happening, alarms began blaring throughout the facility, a high-pitched wail that set her nerves on edge. 

A cold, automated voice rang out over the site's intercom: "Warning! Intrusion alert! This is not a drill. Full site lockdown in effect."

The lights in her room flickered, casting an eerie strobe effect as the sirens continued to blare. Lina's instincts kicked in, adrenaline surging through her veins. She was no stranger to danger, but this was different—this was an invasion.

Her door burst open, and Lieutenant Kovacs appeared, her face set with grim determination. "Lina, we need to move, now!" Kovacs barked, tossing a tactical suit toward her. "Suit up! We're under attack!"

Lina nodded, quickly shedding her casual clothes and donning the tactical gear with practiced speed. Every second counted. The echoes of gunfire and explosions began to reverberate through the site, the sounds of a battlefield encroaching on their safe haven. 

Kovacs keyed her radio, her voice sharp and focused. "Omega-7, status report!"

A burst of static, followed by Colonel Mendoza's voice, crackling through the speaker. "All units, converge on the Administrative Sector! Repeat, converge on the Administrative Sector! We're taking heavy fire!"

Lina and Kovacs exchanged a glance, urgency written on their faces. They bolted from the room, weapons in hand, moving with a purpose. The corridors were chaos, a blur of movement as guards and scientists alike ran in every direction, the panic palpable.

As they ran, the ground beneath them rumbled with each explosion. The facility seemed to be under siege from all sides. Lina's mind raced—who could be behind this? And how had they breached the site's formidable defenses?

The comms were alive with frantic chatter:

"We've got multiple hostiles in Sector C! Requesting backup!"

"Sector D is compromised! Fall back!"

"Security teams, hold the line! Don't let them breach the core!"

Kovacs kept her focus, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Stay sharp, Lina. We're heading straight into the fire."

They rounded a corner, nearly colliding with a group of security personnel who were huddled behind a makeshift barricade. The soldiers were tense, their eyes wide with fear as they exchanged gunfire with unseen assailants down the corridor.

"Kovacs, over here!" one of them shouted, waving the lieutenant over. "It's a mess out there! We're pinned down!"

Kovacs took a quick glance, assessing the situation. "Keep your heads down and conserve ammo," she ordered. "We're moving up to the Admin Sector. Hold this position until reinforcements arrive."

Lina could feel the tension rising with every step, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. They were in the heart of a war zone now, and the outcome was anything but certain.

As they neared the Administrative Sector, the gunfire intensified. The noise was deafening, the air thick with the smell of gunpowder and the acrid scent of burning electronics. The once sterile hallways of Site Lamedh were now a battlefield, littered with debris and the bodies of fallen soldiers.

Finally, they reached the entrance to the Admin Sector. The massive doors were shut tight, and a security team was stationed in front, desperately trying to hold off the attackers. Lina and Kovacs ducked behind cover as bullets whizzed past them, impacting the walls with sharp, metallic thuds.

Mendoza's voice came through the radio again, strained but resolute. "Omega-7, where the hell are you? We're losing ground!"

Kovacs keyed her mic, her voice calm despite the chaos. "We're at the entrance, Colonel. What's your position?"

There was a brief pause, the sounds of battle filling the airwaves, then Mendoza's reply: "Inside the command center. We need you in here, now! The situation is critical!"

Kovacs nodded at Lina. "We're going in," she said firmly. "Stay close, and watch your six."

With a deep breath, Lina prepared herself for what was to come. The battle was far from over, and the fate of Site Lamedh—and possibly more—hung in the balance.

As the battle within Site Lamedh raged, an enormous explosion reverberated through the facility. The tremor was so powerful that even the most fortified sections of the site felt it. The security personnel in the control room scrambled to check the camera feeds, hoping for some clarity amidst the chaos. What they saw on the screens sent a wave of shock through the room—a gargantuan, blood-red mass was advancing toward the site, destroying everything in its path. 

Amidst the chaos, the cameras zoomed in on the creature's upper half, revealing the unmistakable form of the cult leader, whose death had been all but certain after the nuclear detonation. His face, contorted with rage, loomed above the site, his form seeming to grow larger with every step. The destruction he wrought was unfathomable; buildings crumbled, vehicles were tossed aside like toys, and entire sections of the site were torn apart.

The Site Director, beads of sweat forming on his brow, grabbed the emergency phone and connected directly to O5-4. His voice was trembling with urgency, "O5-4, we need immediate reinforcements! The leader of the cult... he's not dead. He's here, and he's—he's tearing the site apart!"

O5-4's voice, cold and measured, came through the line, "Hold your position. Reinforcements are being arranged as we speak."

---

Across the country, Leonard was jarred awake by the shrill sound of the emergency alarms in his home office. Having just finished a long, grueling night of administrative work, he groggily sat up, rubbing his eyes as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He noticed the flashing alert on his terminal and saw that there was an incoming communication from O5-4. The weight of the situation hit him immediately, and he quickly answered the call.

O5-4's voice was as steady as ever, but Leonard could detect an underlying tension. "Administrator," O5-4 began, "We have a situation at Site Lamedh. The cult leader has reappeared, and he's more powerful than before. I need you to grant me additional system authorizations immediately."

Leonard, still groggy but rapidly waking up to the severity of the situation, frowned in confusion. "Authorization? You need me to modify the system settings?"

O5-4 explained, "As a special operations unit, my command is restricted unless explicitly granted broader authority. Right now, I only have operational control over the sites in the French branch. I need access to deploy resources and forces from across other branches."

Leonard didn't hesitate any longer. Understanding the gravity of the request, he swiftly navigated through the system and granted the required permissions. A small window popped up, asking for confirmation—Leonard authorized it without a second thought. 

Once the permissions were set, O5-4's tone softened slightly, though it retained its steely edge. "Thank you, Administrator. Leave this to me. I'll take it from here."

Leonard acknowledged, leaning back in his chair. His mind raced, contemplating the ramifications of what was happening. Just as he was about to inquire further, a notification pinged on his terminal. Leonard's eyes darted to the message—a confirmation that O5-4 had mobilized Mobile Task Force Alpha-113, code-named "Giant Killers."

Leonard exhaled slowly, realizing the magnitude of the situation. Alpha-113 was not just any MTF—it was a unit reserved for the most extreme and dangerous threats. The very fact that it was being deployed indicated that the situation at Site Lamedh had escalated far beyond what Leonard had initially imagined.

As Leonard stared at the screen, he couldn't shake the ominous feeling creeping into his gut. His thoughts were interrupted by another alert—this time, it was a status update from the battlefield. Leonard hesitated for a moment before clicking on it.

The feed showed a live map of the site, detailing the positions of the cult leader and the responding forces. As Leonard studied the map, trying to make sense of the chaos, he noticed something that made his blood run cold. Amidst the red markers indicating enemy presence, one stood out—a small icon marked "Leader."

Leonard clicked on the icon, bringing up a profile window. His eyes widened in horror as he read the status next to the leader's name: "Alive."

The implications were staggering. The leader who had been presumed dead, who had taken a direct hit from a nuclear bomb, was not only alive but seemingly more powerful than before. Leonard's hand trembled slightly as he closed the window, the weight of what he had just discovered settling heavily on his shoulders.

As he sat in the dim glow of his terminal, Leonard knew that this battle was far from over. And the worst part was, he wasn't sure if the Foundation was truly prepared for what was to come.

---

"Ares," the lone operative of MTF Alpha-113, sat aboard a military transport plane, the rumble of the aircraft's engines a steady backdrop to the tension in the air. Strapped into the heavily reinforced "Colossus Armor," Ares was a formidable figure, the very embodiment of the task force's purpose—to neutralize threats of colossal proportions. As the plane soared at an altitude of several thousand meters, Ares stood by the open rear ramp, the wind howling around him.

The support team, discreetly stationed within the aircraft, made final checks on the operative's advanced equipment. Their hands moved with precision, adjusting the neural interface helmet, ensuring the Goliath railgun was primed, and testing the responsiveness of the grappling system. Each piece of gear was critical, designed for one purpose: to bring down the impossible.

Standing before Ares was the Command & Control Unit leader, his voice steady over the roar of the wind. He delivered the mission briefing with a calm that belied the gravity of the situation unfolding at Site Lamedh. The leader of the cult, believed to have perished in a nuclear strike, had returned, and with him, an unimaginable force of destruction. The site was under siege, and only Ares stood a chance of neutralizing this threat before it could obliterate the Foundation's defenses.

"Ares," the commander spoke clearly, the neural link ensuring every word was heard despite the chaos around them. "Your target is the leader of the cult. We believed he was neutralized, but he's back—stronger and angrier than ever. Our intel suggests he's harnessing some form of anomalous energy that makes conventional forces useless against him. You're being dropped into the heart of this chaos. Your objective is containment or, if necessary, neutralization."

Ares nodded silently, the faceless helmet giving no hint of emotion, only a cold readiness. The mission parameters were clear, the risks understood. He would be the first and possibly the only line of defense against this resurrected terror.

The aircraft's interior lights flickered from red to green. The signal was given—the drop was imminent. Without hesitation, Ares stepped toward the edge of the ramp, his massive frame silhouetted against the early morning light streaming through the clouds. The support team moved back, their tasks complete, as Ares locked eyes with the commander one last time.

"Good luck, Ares," the commander said, his voice resolute. "We're counting on you."

With that, Ares leaped from the plane, plunging into the abyss below, his figure quickly swallowed by the clouds. The mission had begun.