Chapter 9

Entering my new cell I took in everything it had. There was a bed that looked more comfier than the one I had before, there was also a table and a chair. My new computer sat on top of the chair and my phone was laid next to it.

I had been moved to Site-19 since I was too 'dangerous' and site-19 would be better equipped to handle me. I doubted that was the case but I got what I wanted so I would continue to play ball with the Foundation. At least for the time being, as soon as I figure out teleportation my ass will be out of here.

The ride here had been somewhat interesting. Since I had taken all of site-81 by myself a lot of the guards in the convoy with me were very tense. Most looked like they thought I was about to kill them all, or take this chance to escape.

I sat down on the bead and started thinking about how my negotiation with Mr. Karyle had gone. I was pretty sure the man wanted to retire, and if he didn't before, he sure looked like he wanted by the time we finished.

A knock-knock sound drew my attention to the only door in the room.

"Come in!" I yelled. It was nice to finally have visitors, I feel pretty dumb about not noticing that my 'precense' choked everyone around me if not contained.

The Foundation had been treating me better since my talk with the director. I liked the fact that they knocked on the door before coming into my room. It would be embarrassing if they walked in while I was practicing my Jojo poses.

What is that? Why am I posing you say? Well I had to know how to look stylish when I got out of here! … Actually I was just hoping there were cameras inside my cell, I wanted to freak out at least one poor bastard.

The door opened and in walked a man on an orange jumper. He looked at me, then at my room, and then at a small walkie talkie strapped to his chest. "Hey! Why does this guy get a computer and actual clothes and I only get this orange onesie and weed!?"

... This guy had the biggest balls I had ever seen on anybody.

"Connor, you know we only give you the weed when you actually do your job, stop complaining and begin the interview please." The listening device on Connor's ear sounded pretty crisp. Maybe I should also have asked for some earbuds?

"Alright alright, well lets see." He checked his notepad as the door closed behind him. "Okay Gabriel, my name is Connor. I am here to conduct an interview with you."

"How are you Connor, do you want to listen to some music with me? The Foundation just gave me a phone, and I want to see how good the sound system is."

"Insist on the interview, we don't have all day." Heartless, they are heartless!

"Uhh, look man, don't take this the wrong way but I just want to do the interview and leave." Connor looked very nonplussed at the moment.

"Really, you don't even want me to tell you how I managed to escape from Site-81 armed with nothing but my hands?"

"Oh! Hey! That is actually one of the questions I was asked to ask you!"

"Oh well, I won't tell you about it then."

"Wait, why?"

"Because I want to talk to you and if I do tell you about the escape you will leave sooner."

He groaned, dropping his face into his hands. "Fineeee. I'll listen to some music with you if you agree to start talking to me about what is on this notepad."

I hummed. My first real human interaction in a while and it was with a moody d-class. "Fine, is there anything you want to listen to?"

"I dunno, I have never listened to music before." That stopped me cold. How had this guy never listened to music before?

"How have you never listened to music before? It is literally impossible. It is one the few things every single culture has."

"Ehh, I don't know about those cultures man, I was raised here at the Foundation and music has never come up in conversation." Fuck that was despressing, he had been living in the Foundation since he was little.

"Come Connor, I will teach you about the beauty of music!"

"Connor, please-" Connor took out his earbud and sat down next to me on my bed as I opened what looked like a music app on my new phone.

"Fuck yeah, want some weed?" He took out a blunt from the breast pocket on his onesie.

"Nah, I don't smoke."

"You do you."

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The speaker in my room turned on."Uhhh, hi Gabriel. So… My name is Aurelia, I am part of the thaumaturgy branch. My group is tasked with trying to understand type greens." Her voice had an accent to it.

"We have been studying you from afar for quite some time Gabriel. Would you be willing to let us do some more… intrusive research?" I decided her accent was nice. Still…

"No. I won't let you stick something into me." Unless there was a medical reason I would not let anything get into me. Now that I thought about it, I would never have to go to a medic again.

"I huh, that is alright, would you let us do some testing with you then? Like, recording you while you do whatever you do?" She sounded meek, maybe asking that question was embarrassing.

"Hey, were you at site-81 while I was there?" She mentioned she had been observing me for a while. That meant that for whatever reason they had, they finally asked permission to do some research on me.

"I yes, I am yes. Sorry I mean yes… I'm sorry, please give me a minute." And she went silent. What was that about? I decided to indeed give her a minute, she sounded out of breath, maybe she came running towards the observational room.

"I am sorry for the delay, I was just… taking a moment to compose myself."

"It's quite alright Dr. Aurelia. I must ask though, what do you want to test first?"

"Well, if the Foundation is not wrong, you have been made aware of your aura, yes?"

"I indeed have, was the reason I had no visitors at site-81 because of it?"

"That is indeed the reason behind your isolation Gabriel. Actually… if you could contain it more, would you please do it? Being close to you has proven strenuous but not impossible since you started closing the lid on the pressure. Your attention being on me though, is making it much harder to remain conscious."

What? Were these people for real? I was really putting a lot of conscious effort into maintaining all my soul inside of my body. Why the fuck would a soul occupy space and not fold itself over itself like the 4th dimensional thing it was is beyond me.

"Really? I am already directing a lot of my attention to not letting my soul out." How did I know it was my soul and not some random thing connected to me? Because I literally felt it.

"Please." She pleaded.

I sighed and put on more 'locks' around my soul. It felt limiting, I felt diminished doing this. It was uncomfortable. Maybe I could get used to it? Until I did though, this was going to have to be enough. I was not into chaining my metaphysical self for the comfort of some random mage.

"Does your connection to magic make it harder to be around strong beings?"

"Not exactly, strong being is too general of a term. It is around beings with strong presences that we have difficulties with."

"Huh, so because you can feel souls, mine being so big is somehow weighting on yours?"

"Huh!?" She sounded surprised. What, did she really think I was that ignorant about magical concepts? If my first world fanfiction didn't do anything to make me aware of them then many of the conspiracy theories and actual fiction on this world had filled me in on how magic fundamentally worked.

"Well, since my soul seems so much bigger than everyone I've met so far, I supposed that it was the reason behind the pressure. I can't think of anything else that could do what my 'presence' did."

"You aren't a type green." Her voice trembled. She actually sounded a bit terrified.

"I still don't know what that means, could you explain? Dr. Clef has mentioned them a few times, but has never told me what they were." He actually was part of the convoy that brought me to this site. Though he was being a bit of an asshole. He refused to talk to me and glared at me the whole ride.

If he didn't want his damn uniform destroyed he should've made it better.

"I…am very sorry sir. I didn't know what you were. I… I need to leave, goodbye."

…

…

…

They still haven't told me what a fucking type green is!

With a sigh I layed down on my bed and started feeling my own space. I knew what space felt like, I had gotten accustomed to dominating it already, I wanted to see if I differentiate between what space I occupied not only physically but also metaphysically. If I did that maybe I could learn teleportation by mimicking the Ainsworth's spell 'Flash Air'.

_______________________________________________________________

Pov: Dr. Aurelia Baldovini

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. We were not dealing with a reality bender. Domhnall's crazy theory was actually right. How the hell did that make sense!?

I rushed out of the observation room and headed to Site-19's director. It would take me a while to get there, but the director had to know this as soon as possible. If one assumed that every Site is similar, they would be wrong. Site-19 was not known as the Foundations special hell hole for nothing. The amount of dangerous SCPs housed here meant that the place had to be better protected. That meant that I had to go through a lot of security checks before I was let in into the director's office.

Was I jumping the gun and just assuming he was telling the truth? Was I overthinking and overanalyzing what 12725 had said? Yes to both questions, but if this was true, new measures had to be implemented to contain 12725.

Which gave me time to organize my thoughts before I went and just babbled incoherent words to the director. While regaining some of my breath I mentaly complained about the strict rules the Foundation had inside some of their Sites. Running around a maze-like building was not good for a magus' health.

I would have used some spells to get here faster and fresher but I would have probably been flagged as some kind of threat.

As I finally entered the director's office I noted the amount of guards in her office was exponentially higher than what director Karlyle had. It seems that the rumors of Site-19 being as distrustful and more paranoid of everything were true.

Some of the guards even got into prepared stances when they saw me walk into the office. They really did not take any chances here huh?

"Director Moose." I calmly addressed the woman on the big chair and desk. I definitely I definitely wasn't panting like I was out of shape and just ran a marathon.

She hummed a bit before gesturing to me to continue.

"SCP-12725 is not a type green nor is it a type red."

Omake (Cannon)

"Huh… Dr. Clef, are you going to put some ketchup on your fries or are you just going to glare at it? Cuz I want some if you wouldn't mind."

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"... Is it because the ketchup is red and you are mad at that one guy you keep calling Red?"

"How dare he ruin my suit!?"

AN

Now, before anyone starts talking about how is it possible for the Mc to not know what type green are… I did not know what they were before I started the fic. Sure, I knew there existed reality benders, but I didn't know they called them type greens. Or that there were reds and blues for that manner. So because this somehow developed into an SI, the Mc will not know what I didn't know before I started writing, with some exceptions of course.