[This issue's protagonist: James]
[Major organizations in this world: SCP Foundation, GOC (Global Occult Coalition), Mechanicus, Sarkicism, Chaos Insurgency]
[Keywords: D-class personnel, containment breach, decedent]
As the introductory subtitles gradually faded from the sky, people across the Marvel universe who had been eagerly awaiting James's background were instantly gripped by anticipation.
In the system's live broadcast room, an overwhelming tide of comments surged forth, nearly covering the entire screen with wild reactions.
"What the hell? I thought this guy was some god-tier figure, but this is all we get?"
"Seriously? The system gave such a dramatic warning and it turns out to be about some obscure organization? Couldn't we at least have something like HYDRA or the X-Men?"
"What the heck is the SCP Foundation? What's a Sarkic Cult? I've never even heard of them!"
"This is lame. My excitement just died. Might as well watch Tony Stark beg for scraps instead."
"Hahaha… I knew it would be some niche nonsense!"
As the wave of bullet comments filled the system's stream, the heated discussion in the Extraordinary Chat Group gradually calmed down. Even Nick Fury, the ever-suspicious Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., who had expected James to pose a major threat, now felt a little disappointed.
Fury tapped his desk and muttered under his breath, "So this guy isn't from HYDRA or a mutant terrorist cell? Some underground cult?" He scoffed. "Maria, cancel the threat-level escalation. Lower James's status to the bottom tier."
His assistant Maria Hill raised an eyebrow but obeyed. "Yes, Director."
Elsewhere – Stark Industries
Tony Stark leaned back in his chair, sipping a glass of bourbon while watching the live broadcast.
"J.A.R.V.I.S., I think we can skip working with this guy. I only team up with geniuses, billionaires, or at least someone who can fly."
J.A.R.V.I.S. paused for a brief moment. "…Noted, sir."
At Kamar-Taj
In the serene courtyard, the apprentices of the mystic arts stood in clusters, murmuring among themselves as they watched the scene unfold.
"What? I thought he was some mystical powerhouse!"
"There's not even a hint of sorcery, no magical aura, no superhero flair…"
"It's just another human… this isn't worth the Sorcerer Supreme's time."
Despite the skeptical voices, the Ancient One's calm face showed a flicker of intrigue. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she gazed at the glowing sky above.
Is it truly that simple? she wondered.
And then, everything changed.
With a sudden flash of light, James's past life finally began to unfold!
Across the Marvel universe, humans, superheroes, gods, and beings of every kind looked up at the light curtain in the sky as the previously dark screen now echoed with a calm, almost ancient voice.
"This is a world of anomalies."
"Humans have existed for 250,000 years, yet only the last 4,000 years have been recorded. So, what were we doing during all those millennia?"
The scene transitioned.
A primordial world, eerily similar to Earth, appeared on the screen. Civilization had not yet emerged. There were no skyscrapers or cities—only the vast wilderness and shadowy caves. Within those caves, vaguely human-like figures trembled in the dark, clutching each other in fear of the endless night outside.
Flickers of monstrous silhouettes darted through the darkness. Inhuman forms with twisted bodies and multiple limbs loomed over the land, vanishing into the shadows just as quickly as they appeared. These things—these anomalies—eroded the world like a slow but unstoppable decay.
Some brave souls walked out of the caves, only to be dragged screaming into the void. Others retreated, carving symbols and horrifying depictions of what they had seen into the stone walls. They knelt before these carvings, praying to entities they could not comprehend.
"So, we called them gods... demons… and begged for their forgiveness. We prayed for salvation."
As the voice narrated, the visual progressed. Civilizations rose from the ashes of fear. Humanity began to multiply. Language, farming, cities, and reason took root. The things that once haunted the dark retreated. Yet, the voice continued…
"Their numbers decreased, and ours increased. As fear dwindled, we became rational. We believed the world made sense. But the anomalies never truly disappeared."
"The universe insists on reminding us of the absurd, the impossible."
"Humanity cannot survive in fear. No one will save us. We must protect ourselves."
The visuals now portrayed hidden enclaves—secretive operatives walking through underground laboratories, capturing beings that defied natural law, studying the inexplicable, containing the uncontrollable.
"While the rest of the world bathes in daylight, we live in the shadows, battling the impossible—so that others may live in peace."
As the background music swelled, the screen rapidly transitioned between dozens of bizarre and surreal images.
A giant eye floating in space…
A man whose screams melted steel…
A statue that moved only when unobserved…
A red puddle whispering madness…
A child who aged backward…
An endless staircase descending into blackness…
A door that led to every room except the one it belonged to…
Each image vanished as quickly as it appeared, but the sense of dread lingered.
Then, the voice grew firm—powerful and resolute.
"We Secure."
"We Contain."
"We Protect."
The visuals faded to black. Silence followed.
Inside S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters, Nick Fury sat back in his chair, his face now etched with concern.
"Anomalies…" he muttered.
As the man responsible for monitoring extraterrestrial threats, advanced technology, sorcery, and metahuman activity, Fury had seen many strange things. But this? This was something different.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had neither the manpower nor the technology to suppress the kinds of threats he had just witnessed.
Even with the Avengers, they had never truly contained anything. They fought, they defended, but they never erased knowledge of the threats they faced from public memory.
And yet, this mysterious SCP Foundation had apparently done just that—secretly, efficiently, and without public awareness.
Is such control even possible?
Meanwhile, the Extraordinary Chat Group had descended into chaos once more.
[Deadpool]: "Anomalies? What does that even mean? Are we anomalies?"
[Steve Rogers]: "Going by their definition, anyone with powers might be considered an anomaly."
[Tony Stark]: "No way I'm letting some freaky men in lab coats contain me. I'm Iron Man. I'm not a science project."
[Thor]: "Contain? Do they think they can imprison gods? I'd like to see them try."
[Nick Fury]: "No organization has that kind of reach. Not even us."
In the live broadcast room, opinions were split.
Some viewers sneered, calling it fearmongering or fantasy. Others were visibly disturbed, questioning if these things were really hidden from public knowledge. But whether they mocked or doubted, one feeling began to creep through every soul watching—curiosity.
Who was James, really?
What kind of life had he lived? And what role did he play in this enigmatic SCP Foundation?
The curtain had barely risen, yet already, the atmosphere had shifted.
Then, without warning, the screen changed again.
In a sterile, enclosed room filled with pale incandescent light, a man stood silently, dressed in an orange jumpsuit with "D-9341" printed on the chest. Surveillance cameras tracked his every move.
It was James.
There was no fanfare, no flashy entrance, just the cold, impersonal reality of containment.
He looked up at the camera, his expression unreadable—part resigned, part defiant.
This was not the James they had known in the Marvel world. This was a different man, shaped by a world far more terrifying and cruel.
The broadcast caption appeared:
[D-Class Personnel – Designation: James]
[Clearance Level: None]
[Subject Role: Disposable test subject for anomalous experiments]
Gasps erupted throughout the Marvel world.
Tony Stark frowned. "He was a… test subject?"
Steve Rogers gritted his teeth. "That's inhuman."
Even Thor's usually jovial face darkened. "A warrior used as bait for monsters? That's not justice."
The Ancient One, still watching quietly, finally closed her eyes and murmured, "Now it begins."
Because deep down, everyone watching understood—
The real horror hadn't started yet.
It was only the beginning.
To be continued...
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