Able looked at the room he was in; he walked out the door to see the light glowing, as he was warning glowing, as he looked at it.
[ENEGRY, SCP 076-2 HAS BREACH CONTAINMENTS, I REPEAT SCP 076-2 HAS BREACH CONTAINMENTS]
Able shrugged. He kept waking, and as he did, he heard guns being pointed at him; he looked at the people holding Guns, the Scp MTF that only stayed in the foundation.
They fire the guns at him, but to Able's POV does bullets are slow, he just summoned a metal pipe and smacked the Bullet into the ground, he just then took a running position.
As he sprinted past them, taking the MTF member's Guns and Breaking them, to say he gave all of them a heart attack was an understatement. He then looked at them, and as he started, he pointed his pipe at them.
They got scared; they knew his reputation; they knew what it was like every time he broke out; able, they would be easy to kill.
Just quick moves, crack the skulls, kill them all, but he didn't; he didn't want to kill mindlessly now, maybe because he wanted to change? Or maybe it was because of Able 2 fusion with him. Either way, these people get to life, for today, that is.
He wasn't sure what next SCP could kill them. He just walked away and kept waking and destroying the Other MTF, knocking them out and not killing them. Even there was part of his mind saying how much easier it would be just to snap their necks, but he didn't do it; he didn't want to do it. If he wants any chance to work with the foundation, then he needs to be on his best behaviour, and that is all.
He kept waking through the wall, with calm and collective trace; he just stopped and looked at the Camera; he jumped on the grabber of the Camera and Microphone as he spoke into it.
Back in the CCTV room, all the Scientists got a Jumped scared, as the Camera foodiest was still visible, still watchable.
Dr Bright then spoke. "Holy 343, that scared me, but what is he doing".
Then Able's Voice came to the speaker of the CCTV room, and they were a bit surprised at what he said.
"Listen here Foundation Scientist, or whoever is behind this Camera, or if it is working, I wanted to talk, so turn off your alarms and meet me in the cafeteria of Site 16".
It was not what he said that shocked everyone, these people have seen some crazy shit, like the Shakespeare Box, but the language he spoke in.
Dr Bright just blinked as he spoke. "Does anyone here know Chinese so they can translate?".
Yes, Able, by accident, spoke in Chinese instead of English, which he himself didn't release.
A silence fell over the surveillance room.
"…Did he just negotiate in the middle of a containment breach?" someone finally whispered.
"I think he asked us to meet him in the cafeteria," another mumbled, staring at the monitor like it had grown horns.
Dr Bright pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, we're past the 'he's back' phase, and now we've entered the 'he's civil?' arc. What next, tea with 682?"
Someone coughed. "Uh, sir… he did also say it in Chinese."
"What—does he think he's in a wuxia drama now?" Bright snapped. "Find me a translator—no, screw that, I'll do it myself."
He stormed out, grabbing his memetic sunglasses and a rubber duck with glowing eyes. Just in case.
Meanwhile, in the cafeteria of Site-16…
Able sat on one of the tables, legs casually propped up, munching on a stale energy bar from a vending machine he had not paid for. The Chains of Enkidu curled lazily near the tray return. A gauntlet shimmered faintly as it absorbed light, and a few flickering glyphs floated around his fingers like lazy fireflies.
He stared ahead, thoughtful.
His memories… were still fragmentary. There was more to him now. A balance he hadn't had before. He didn't want to go back to being the monster they feared. He didn't want to lose himself again.
He just wanted…
"Peace?" he muttered.
Then he looked at the vending machine. "And maybe something that doesn't taste like expired cardboard."
The doors to the cafeteria creaked open, and Dr Bright entered, flanked by two MTF guards—both nervous. One of them was holding a white flag made from a lab coat.
"You called?" Bright said, raising a brow. "Nice language choice. Added to the drama."
Able blinked. "What? I spoke English."
"Nope. Fluent Mandarin. Caught us all off guard."
Able squinted. "Huh… Maybe that's a side effect. Didn't mean to. Sorry."
Bright sighed. "Look, we don't know what version of you this is, or how you got back so fast. But I'm not gonna look a semi-sane demigod in the mouth."
Able looked amused. "You're listening to me? No one's trying to shoot me again?"
"I mean, not yet. Depends how this chat goes."
Able smirked.
Able looked at him as he spoke. "So what do you mean by, 'We Don't Know What Version Of You This Is', what to explain this Doctor".
Dr Bright looked at him as he spoke. "You're different now, and as Exciting as that is, it has not many questions".
Able looked at him as he rolled his eyes. "People can change Bright".
Dr Bright chuckled as he spoke. "Oh yes, but not like this, damn it, 2 hours ago, you were painting the walls red with other Scp, some do which Escaped foundation... Again, and now you're talking like something with more than 4 brain cells".
Able snorted. "So that's what you think of me? A walking death machine with half a thought and a lot of anger?"
Dr Bright raised an eyebrow. "Was I wrong?"
Able didn't answer right away. He leaned back in the cafeteria chair, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. The glow from the gauntlet pulsed once—steady and calm, like a heartbeat.
"I remember the rage," he said finally. "The blood. The screaming. I remember being empty after every fight… but never knowing why."
Bright leaned on the table, arms folded. "And now?"
Able looked up, eyes sharp and strange. "Now I remember everything—not just what I did, but why I did it. Who I was. Who I could've been."
That made Bright pause. He tilted his head, curious. "So what changed? What flipped the switch?"
Able tapped the gauntlet once. "I don't know. Maybe it's this. Maybe it's what's inside me. Maybe I fused with something I buried deep. Maybe I just got tired of being angry."
Bright's smirk softened. "You're saying you… grew a conscience?"
"Don't push it," Able replied, but there was a small smile on his lips.
The silence between them was almost normal—for once.
Then the cafeteria doors burst open again.
A nervous-looking scientist poked their head in. "Uh… sirs? SCP-999 has escaped its chamber. It's… uh… heading here. Full speed."
Able blinked. "999?"
Bright cracked a grin. "Oh boy. Let's see how the new you handle a cuddle attack from the world's friendliest blob."
They waited for a bit, as they saw the Foundation Mascot, aka the Trickle Monster Scp 999.
[Insert Image of Scp 999]
Able went to The Orange Slime, and he went down as he spoke. "Hello little one"
The Scp then jumped on him, and Able fell to the ground, Scp 999 healing powers started to take effect as he started to tickle Able, but Able didn't feel the Tickle for some reason, he didn't know why, as he looked at it and parts it's head, only for his hand to harmlessly go through the thing and come out, it was definitely purely a slime, no questions there.
Able looked at his hand, now covered in the faint orange shimmer of SCP-999's slime. It didn't burn, didn't sting—if anything, it felt warm. Calming. But still, he didn't laugh.
Dr. Bright watched, arms folded, a look of amused curiosity on his face. "Huh. That's a first. Usually, by now, most people are giggling like toddlers on sugar."
Able sat up slowly, 999 still happily bubbling and sloshing around his chest like an overexcited puppy. "I don't feel anything… just… peaceful."
999 let out a gurgling sound—its version of a whine—and then slithered up to Able's face, pressing itself gently against his cheek like a cat trying to get attention.
Able's eyes narrowed slightly. "It's like it's… scanning me. Trying to figure me out."
Dr. Bright stepped closer. "Well, technically, 999's not just a ball of joy—it can detect emotional and psychological trauma and naturally works to fix it. It's probably confused because you're not responding like usual."
"Maybe it can't fix what's already dead," Able muttered, though not bitterly. Just… honest.
999 let out a sad-sounding glorp.
But instead of backing away, the little slime nestled closer.
Able blinked, surprised. "It's… comforting me?"
"Yeah," Bright said softly. "Even the unfixable deserves kindness."
There was a pause.
Able reached up, and this time, when he patted 999, he didn't phase through it. His hand rested gently on the top of the slime, and 999 let out a cheerful chirp.
Able allowed himself a small, real smile.
"…Thanks, little one."
Dr. Bright leaned back and muttered, "Well damn… the apocalypse might actually not be today."
Meanwhile, back in the CCTV room, a Dr came out of the washroom.
He has brown hair, a bit of bear, with butterflies flying around him, as he is wearing a sweater, a hat, and his usual hate for lab coats, as he puts down his paper
[Insert Image of Dr Kondraki]
Dr Kondraki's eyes were closed. This whole thing was happening as he spoke. "So what do I miss".
He looked at the CCTV Camera of the Cafeteria room, and he saw Able and Dr Bright having a polite conversation.
Kondraki blinked a few times as he spoke. "Did an interdental portal open that I got sucked into when I was leaving the toilet?".
Dr. Bright turned at the voice, waving casually at Kondraki through the observation room's glass. "Hey Konny! Nah, you didn't fall into a multiversal toilet... unless your ass flushed us into a more civilized dimension."
Kondraki stared at the screen, eyes narrowing. "That's Able. Talking. Not killing. And you—not dead. What the hell kind of Tuesday am I walking into?"
Dr. Clef chimed in from a nearby desk, not even looking up from his paperwork. "We're calling this one 'Able 2.0.' Apparently, he's less murder-y, more philosophical. Still dangerous, though. He called a meeting in the cafeteria."
Kondraki raised a brow. "And we're letting him do that?"
Bright smirked. "Buddy, you ever try stopping Able when he's in a good mood? I'd rather not find out what passive-aggressive genocide looks like."
Butterflies fluttered around Kondraki's head like an exasperated halo as he muttered, "You people let one berserker start talking in Chinese, pet a tickle blob, and host a lunch meeting... and I'm the unreasonable one when I bring a chaos butterfly into work."
Dr. Gears passed by holding a clipboard. "You are the unreasonable one, Kondraki."
"…Shut up, Gears."
Kondraki sighed, grabbed a cup of terrible breakroom coffee, and muttered, "Alright, I'm going down there. If this version of Able's making friends, I wanna see if he remembers the time he threw me through two walls and into a janitor closet."
He glanced at the screen again, watching Able quietly feed SCP-999 some jello.
"…Yup. This timeline's broken."
Dr Kondraki looked at Dr Clef and Dr Gears. "You two are so coming with me"
After a while, the 4 Doctors were now looking at Able. As Able looked at all of them.
Able looked at Kondraki as he spoke. "Didn't I throw you through 2 walls into a Janitorial closet"
Kondraki sighed as he spoke. "Fine, but we all have questions".
Able looked at them as he spoke. "How I became like this, not answering that".
Dr Gears crossed something in his clickboard as he spoke. "Ok, but what do you want, what's with this meeting".
Able looked at them as he spoke. "I am tired of killing; I don't want to be an insane murderer anymore; I don't want to be this Berserker anymore".
Clef then spoke Looking at him, loading his gun. "I see; you want us a way to permanently kill you, correct?".
Able looked at him as he spoke. "No"
Dr Bright then spoke with a smirk, that would be removed in a few seconds. "Then what?"
Able looked at him as he spoke. "I wanna work for the foundation".
You can hear the 4 Dr in Rooms Collective brain cells frying and resting trying to process what they heard.
Dr. Clef's finger paused just above the trigger, a confused look overtaking his usual half-lazy, half-ready-to-shoot expression. "…Come again?"
Able leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table, completely calm. "You heard me. I want to work with the Foundation. Use my abilities for something other than murder."
Dr. Bright's smirk vanished faster than SCP-173 blinking in a strobe light. "You mean… like, as staff? As in, like, a job?"
Able nodded. "Yes. I've killed enough. I've seen enough. And I don't even remember all the blood anymore—it just feels... pointless. But now, I remember a realm. One where everything I've ever used, touched, fought was just waiting for me. And I chose not to kill. That has to mean something."
Dr. Gears clicked his pen once. Twice. Then again. He stared at his clipboard, then slowly muttered, "…This isn't in any protocol."
Dr. Kondraki, meanwhile, had turned to the others, eyebrows raised so high they threatened to abandon his face. "Okay, not gonna lie… That's not even on my bingo card. And I once had to interrogate a sentient sandwich."
Clef narrowed his eyes at Able. "What's the catch? You don't just go from rage-monster to office intern without something pushing you. Enlightenment? Fusion? Divine therapy?"
Able closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. "Let's just say… something woke me up. Something old. Something deep. And now I want more than just being a tool."
Bright rubbed his temples. "Goddammit. This means paperwork."
Clef raised a hand. "I'm still voting 'potential trap.' He could be lulling us."
Gears nodded. "Statistically speaking, 076 displays manipulative capacity when seeking short-term goals."
Kondraki folded his arms. "And emotionally speaking, I'm really not ready for an Able that wants dental benefits and a pension."
Able just calmly sat back, waiting for the verdict.
Dr. Bright sighed dramatically, then spoke. "Alright. Let's say we don't shoot you. Let's say we let you intern. What's the first thing you'd do?"
Able shrugged. "Not kill you. That's a start, right?"
Bright groaned. "Fair."
Gears looked at him as he spoke. "So what, you wanna be D class".
Able looked at him as he spoke. "I refuse to be your Immortal D class, how about an MTF".
Dr. Gears paused mid-sentence, the tip of his pen hovering over the clipboard like it had just been insulted.
"…An MTF?" he repeated, deadpan.
Dr. Bright cackled, slapping the table. "You wanna wear the blue? March in with the boys? Run field ops like it's Call of Duty: SCP Edition?"
Able just stared at him, completely serious. "I can move faster than bullets. I can kill threats before they even register on radar. And you know I'm practically indestructible unless you're cheating with pocket realities and divine artifacts. Why not use me where it counts?"
Dr. Clef leaned against the wall, squinting. "Okay, let's run this idea through. We take the Foundation's most dangerous immortal murder-machine, slap a vest on him, and send him out to deal with, say, SCP-096 throwing a tantrum in downtown Berlin?"
Able nodded.
Clef shrugged. "...I'm not entirely against it."
Kondraki blinked. "Wait, what?"
Gears calmly adjusted his glasses. "Operationally, it makes sense. Ethically, it makes none. Strategically? It's a coin flip. Morale-wise? It's basically hiring the Grim Reaper as a field medic."
Dr. Bright leaned back, fingers steepled. "MTF Omega-76, codename: Abliteration."
Kondraki groaned. "We are not naming his task force after his name."
"Too late," Clef added. "Already mentally submitted the request."
Gears looked over at Able. "If, and this is a massive if, the O5 agree to this madness… you'd be subject to full rules of engagement. Chain of command. Strict oversight. No exceptions. You break protocol—"
"Then you kill me," Able cut in, firmly. "I get it. I don't plan on breaking it."
The room went quiet for a moment. Then Dr. Bright clapped his hands. "Well! I guess hell's frozen over. Able wants a badge."
Clef muttered, "What's next, SCP-682 applying for anger management?"
Kondraki gave Able a look. "You really serious about this?"
Able stood up, posture straight, expression calm and resolute. "As serious as the end of the world."
The doctors exchanged glances. Then Gears sighed, scribbling something on his clipboard.
"I'll draft the proposal."
2 hours later, in a shadowy room, was a cat as it looked at the other monitor's screens, with the faces of the other 05 councils; the one here was 05-2.
05-2 moves as he sits back on his chair, stressing out, his cat tail flickering. "I do say, to day is very interesting won't you say".
On the monitors, various blurry faces and silhouettes shifted—some robotic, some human, some completely… indescribable. But all of them held the same authority that only came from being among the thirteen who ran the Foundation from the shadows.
A cold, mechanical voice, belonging to 05-7, replied first. "SCP-076 requesting employment is not a scenario in any probability chart. This is outside baseline behavior by every metric."
A low chuckle followed, probably from 05-4. "He's either glitched… or playing 5D chess. Personally, I'd like to see how this plays out."
05-9, a distorted figure surrounded by moving binary code, spoke up. "If he truly does not wish to be a berserker anymore, this is our only chance to redirect him. Or contain him through responsibility."
05-1, the leader, remained silent for a long time.
Then the cat—05-2—licked its paw, tail flicking with mild amusement. "You all see this as a risk. I see it as a unique asset. If the rumors of a breach in Site-19 last week are connected to dimensional anomalies, we may need someone like him."
"Agreed," said a voice modulated with static—05-11. "And if he steps out of line... we still have the kill-switch implanted in his spine. Correct, Two?"
05-2 gave a toothy smile that seemed far too large for a cat's face. "Of course. I'm not an idiot."
Silence reigned again.
Then, 05-1 finally spoke—his voice calm, grounded, and absolute. "Trial basis. Limited deployment. Assigned handler. Extreme oversight. If he fails—terminate."
All the monitors slowly blinked out one by one. All but one Monitors were fully of
05-2 stared at the last one before it went black. Then he looked down at his paw, which shimmered briefly into a clawed human hand, before returning to fur and pads.
He grinned.
"Well then... Able, let's see how deep the rabbit hole goes."
05-2 looked at the screen on 05-3 as he spoke. "So what do you think? Do you think he is playing 5 D chess?".
A Chuckle came with the only other 05 member that was only there, as they spoke. "No, definitely not, I refuse to believe that, and not even a possibility".
05-2's ears twitched as he turned to the screen showing 05-3's silhouette—an androgynous, suit-wearing figure seated in front of a chessboard with literal 5 layers. Pieces floated, clicked, and moved on their own as if playing against unseen opponents. The figure leaned forward, resting their chin on their hand.
05-3 smirked. "If Able was playing 5D chess, we'd all be dead, or worse, filling in his reports while he pets my cat. No, this isn't strategy—this is a crisis of identity."
05-2 narrowed his feline eyes. "Hm. So you're saying it's a breakdown, not a breakthrough?"
"Or maybe… a merge," 05-3 replied. "You've read the file—Able 2, the supposed 'other half'. The 'thinking one.' If the two really did fuse… we're no longer dealing with just the Slayer."
The cat tapped a few keys, switching the feed back to Able, who was now trying to figure out how to operate a vending machine without breaking it.
05-2 smirked, amused. "Either way, the fact he hasn't decapitated someone in two hours is progress."
05-3 raised a hand. "Let's just hope it's not the calm before the Red Wedding."
To be continued
Hope people like this Ch and give me power stones and enjoy