It was one thing to have my hands and feet securely tied, but why was my mouth also sealed? I should at least have been able to make a noise! Why was I confined in a mental asylum? Why did it seem like everyone was afraid of me? Why... do I feel like laughing?---------------- This is a story where Holmes and the Joker wreak havoc on the SCP Foundation. I hope everyone will enjoy it!
The evolution of all things stems from chance, just as a tree's main trunk branches out, and the branches further split into countless leaves. Each random event deflects the original path in a new direction. Reefs cannot foresee the tides, plants cannot await the rain. Everything is unchained, casually redirected by time—this is how the world ought to be.
Except for humans.
No matter how you look at it, the word "plan" is terrifying. It chops off all of a tree's branches, burns them, leaving only a barren, unbranched path, forcibly eradicating all possibilities and pushing events towards a predetermined end.
And such behavior is highly esteemed among humans.