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Marvel: The Foundation

The MCU is already a perilous realm, fraught with danger at every turn. But for a crimelord like myself, it's a whole other level of risk, especially with heroes lurking around every corner. And if that weren't daunting enough, now I have to contend with the added uncertainty of encountering at least one completely random SCP every month. How many of these anomalies would it take to trigger an XK-class event? Well, here's hoping I get some favorable ones, allowing me not only to survive but also to flourish in this treacherous environment.

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Meetings, new and old -208

 

While Alexander and the rest of the leadership of the SCP Foundation were busy holding meetings in the secret safety of SITE-001, here in cold and clean rooms devoid of anything resembling a human touch, the future of humanity was decided bit by bit.

 

This time, they were once again dividing the pie by using multiple SCP-related resources, such as the waters of SCP-006. They were once more discussing whether or not more SCP objects should be released from Solomon's wisdom. After all, they all desired to get the full council gathered since much of their power was tied up in the still lost parts of the Foundation.

 

It was bound to be another long, boring meeting with little really happening as a result of it. Still, such was the nature of an organization like the Foundation, even though the small size of the council did allow them to rather effectively decide on things that could still take hours, if not days, for less important things.

 

Now, the rest of the Foundation kept on working without pause; new SCP objects were out there, and they had to be contained; others already in containment had to be studied and understood. Personnel had to be trained, and facilities built and reinforced.

 

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[With Bruce Banner]

 

Bruce was starting to run into a dead end when it came to ideas for dealing with SCP-4885. He had followed all the containment procedures and had set up a more or less automatic system that should be able to track it.

 

Yet he wasn't really able to test it in the short term. He wasn't even sure if the SCP object had survived the nuclear blast but had no way to test it since he couldn't know where the object was without dying to it.

 

It was an infuriating SCP to deal with. His scientific mind struggled to accept the fact that no real information could be verified.

 

Though at least he had somewhat dealt with the majority of his loss of Oliver. He wasn't stupid. He knew that this mission had been given to him for a reason. And that was to keep him busy with something he found meaningful.

 

Keep him distracted and have him engage his mind so it doesn't go somewhere dark. It had also worked. He had time to come to terms with everything slowly. He was helped by the kind people he was working with, including Lena, who was there for him.

 

Still, he was starting to feel that he needed something else to do. That he had done all he could here. And without more data he couldn't possibly figure out a way to kill this SCP object.

 

If he were to just keep working on this, he knew he wouldn't get anywhere, no matter how smart he might be, he couldn't solve an issue like this without the necessary data to back up his study.

 

He already knew what he wanted next: to learn to fully control the Hulk's transformation. He might not want full control over the Hulk itself, but he at least wanted to be able to use it as he pleased.

 

He wanted to be able to use the Hulk as needed and to know that he could unleash the Hulk without waking up to nothing but destruction. He was fairly close to that state already, but to be sure, he needed some field tests.

 

And he was hoping that he would be able to once again get to work together with Lena as he went out in the field, Hopefully Alexander would be willing to accommodate his desire.

 

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[Wilderness]

 

Deep within the mostly unexplored forests and mountains of the world, small groups of strange beings had started to gather together in communities. These beings were taller than humans, were covered in fur, and had large feet.

 

If people were to see them, they would likely scream "Bigfoot!" at the top of their lungs, before the vast majority of them would drop dead from seeing them. Because these people were indeed bigfoot, or SCP-1000.

 

For centuries, SCP-1000 had remained hidden, their numbers slowly dwindling, but they remained alive due to the effect of an ancient memetic kill agent that caused humans to die upon seeing them.

 

While once, countless years back, the members of this species weren't mindless beasts, they had a massive and highly advanced civilisation and ruled over the earth. Or at least one version of Earth.

 

However, in the end, they had fallen from grace; the humans they once saw as little more than animals had risen up and taken hold of the world, while SCP-1000 had degraded, their once brilliant minds withered away, leaving behind animals.

 

But now, in these hidden communities, there were signs of change. A small faction within the SCP-1000 population had begun to regain some of their former intelligence. Through primitive but effective means, they had started to communicate, rebuild, and plan. It was a slow process, hindered by the fact they had to hide from humans.

 

One of the leaders of this faction, a particularly intelligent specimen named Gron, had begun to piece together bits of human technology he could get his hands on, slowly making more advanced items.

 

Gron's community had managed to salvage pieces of old machinery, discarded electronics, and other remnants of human civilization. With a growing number of SCP-1000 slowly regaining their cognitive abilities, they were able to create a rudimentary workshop. There, they worked on reverse-engineering the human technology they found, integrating it with their own rudimentary tools.

 

One evening, as the community gathered around a fire, Gron stood up to address them. His fur was matted, and his eyes glowed with a newfound intelligence. "Our ancestors once ruled this world," he began, his voice deep and resonant. "We have hidden for too long, and now is the time to reclaim what was lost. We will learn, adapt, and survive."

 

The others listened intently, their eyes reflecting the flickering flames. Gron continued, "We have already made progress. Our minds are awakening, and we are beginning to remember. But we must remain cautious. The humans are still a threat, and we must avoid detection at all costs."

 

In the days that followed, Gron's community worked tirelessly, each member contributing to their shared goal. They began to construct shelters, develop basic farming techniques, and create weapons for defense. The memetic kill agent still protected them, but they knew it was only a matter of time before humans stumbled upon their existence.

 

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[Castle of the Eclipse coven: Germany]

 

Mordred the Shadowweaver, the leader of the eclipse coven of vampires, sat on his throne deep in thought. The ancient stone walls of the castle were draped in shadows, only partially illuminated by the flickering torchlight. His mind raced with plans and strategies. The world was changing, and the supernatural community needed to adapt or face extinction.

 

His coven had great influence over many political figures, which allowed him to have a pretty good idea of what was going on in the mundane world. So he was the first to notice something disturbing happening.

 

The Ancient One having some more movements these days was already troublesome enough. After all, she was no doubt the greatest threat to them, but it seemed that this new emerging threat might not be much less.

 

A mysterious organization suddenly appeared out of nowhere and had an amazing amount of power and funds at its disposal. He hadn't been able to get the name of this organization just yet, but they were his enemy, that he was sure of.

 

They were offering people to help them take care of underworld threats, and not just criminals, but the supernatural as well. And they were good at what they did. He had had one of his affiliates try and lure them into a trap. And they had broken the trap with ease and killed everyone.

 

They weren't just small-time monster hunters; these were no doubt the group that was starting to make waves in the darkness, and he didn't like how they tried to step into the light. Sure, they were still hiding, but the fact that they had contact with governments wasn't good news.

 

Mordred's crimson eyes narrowed as he pondered his next move. He needed more information about this organization, and he needed to strike back before they could pose a greater threat to his coven. Summoning his most trusted lieutenants, he began to lay out a plan to infiltrate and learn more about this new adversary.

 

"We must be cautious," Mordred warned. "They are well-equipped and highly trained. We cannot afford to underestimate them. We will gather intelligence and strike when they least expect it."

 

The lieutenants nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. As they dispersed to carry out their orders, Mordred leaned back on his throne, his mind already racing with possibilities.

 

He knew that he likely couldn't take on this group on his own, or at least not without taking some massive losses, some of which would leave him in a very vulnerable situation afterwards. Which meant he needed to call a meeting.

 

They usually didn't meet often, but when dealing with the many current problems as a priority, he had heard many whispers, and none of them were good for him or for the covens as a whole.