Hello everyone, my name is Bai Qi, and I'm a good person.
Wait, no—almost forgot. I'm not called Bai Qi anymore... Let me reintroduce myself: Hello everyone, my name is Gaia Mildonovich Stanleyn Belavsky. I come from the "Fighting Nation" and, yes, I'm still a good person.
Maybe you've already guessed—I'm a time traveler from the 21st century. My story began on a stormy night. I was just sitting on my bed, typing away on my computer, when lightning and thunder struck outside my window. And then... I don't even know what happened. I guess I was struck by lightning?
Well, forget it. I've already time-traveled anyway, so no point dwelling on it. But seriously—if you're going to let me time-travel, couldn't you at least make me a normal person? What kind of cruel joke is it to become a criminal who just got arrested for attempted assault?!
I never thought I'd end up in jail, especially as someone who rarely leaves the house. The first day was awful—I really couldn't get used to it. The only entertainment was listening to the others brag about how many people they've killed, how much money they've stolen, or how clever they are.
But come on—if you're so great, why are you robbing banks? Why are you in jail if you're so damn amazing!?
Honestly, I couldn't even bring myself to brag like they did. I even looked down on the original owner of this body—what a loser.
I thought I'd hit rock bottom, but maybe luck finally turned in my favor. The next day, a man in black came to see me. He said he could get me out of prison and erase my criminal record. The only condition? I had to join their organization.
Oh my god! That's more like it—this is the kind of treatment a time traveler should get! So I signed the contract on the spot, without even reading the fine print. Soon after, I was taken away. That's when I found out the name of the organization...
**The SCP Foundation.**
At first, I was thrilled, but then I realized I had completely misunderstood what time-traveling means. Just because you time travel doesn't mean you're the main character. There's no protagonist aura, no plot armor. In fact, I might just be an NPC… and not even a useful one. I'm probably the kind of cannon fodder NPC that dies in the first chapter.
If I could go back in time again, I'd honestly choose to rot in prison. This SCP site is basically just another prison—but with more ways to die! Every day, we're thrown into bizarre experiments where even nine lives wouldn't be enough.
Let me break it down for you: this SCP site is filled with monsters—real ones. Mysterious, terrifying creatures that could wipe out humanity. Like SCP-682, the immortal lizard. It's over ten meters long and regenerates faster than you can kill it. They've been trying to destroy that thing for ages and always fail. And worse—it can talk, and it's incredibly arrogant.
All the creatures here seem like they came from horror stories. Their abilities make no scientific sense. They're classified into three main categories: Safe, Euclid, and Keter.
- **Safe** SCPs are usually harmless to humans. Some even seem friendly. Honestly, I don't get why the Foundation even locks them up. Take SCP-999, for example—that little guy is adorable and my only friend here. He can even roam around freely.
- **Euclid** class SCPs are unpredictable and potentially dangerous, but less so than the next category.
- **Keter** class SCPs are the real nightmares. Like SCP-682, which constantly tries to break out and has succeeded many times, causing massive casualties. These classifications aren't just about danger—they also reflect how hard it is to contain them. Even if something isn't deadly, if it's hard to contain, it's still Keter.
Anyway...
"**D-2333, step out.**"
Someone called from outside my room. I knew what was coming—another experiment. The last one was just yesterday! Out of the eight people with me, only two of us survived. The other survivor? D-87465, a guy who always ends up with me in these hellish tests.
I forgot to mention—Foundation staff are ranked from A to D. D-Class personnel like us are all criminals, used as lab rats. We're identified by a number—mine is **D-2333**.
"Coming…" I muttered as the door slid open. I didn't panic. Somehow, I always managed to survive these experiments. I'm not sure why, but I have a *special ability* that keeps me alive.
Stepping outside, I saw several heavily armed guards standing in formation, with a man in a white lab coat behind them. Another D-Class stood beside me—it was 87465 again. We both froze when we saw each other.
Seriously, what did we do to deserve this?!
I gave him a wry smile. He just shrugged calmly like he was used to it.
"Are these the two?" the doctor asked the guard.
"Yes, the only survivors from five experiments," the guard replied.
The doctor frowned in thought, and my gut told me he was up to no good. Sure enough, his next words made me want to punch him.
"What should we test this time? Hmm... Surviving SCP-096? No, no… Ah! I've got it! Let's have them clean SCP-682's chamber. I want to see what makes them so 'lucky.' Yes, that's it! You two, follow us."
**What?! Clean SCP-682's chamber?!** Are you insane?! You might as well shoot us—it would be less painful!
Of course, the guards were armed to the teeth, so I had no choice. I sighed and followed with 87465. I wasn't too afraid—I had my "secret weapon."
Let me explain: my *special ability* is basically **time stop**. Yeah, like "Za Warudo!" from *JoJo*. It only activates automatically when I'm in danger. When it triggers, I become super strong and fast—like I could take on a bear barehanded.
I've never told anyone about it. If the Foundation finds out, they'll lock me up as an SCP too, and I'll never leave.
"Hey, bro," 87465 suddenly spoke. "How've you survived all these experiments?"
"Only vodka can defeat us Russians," I joked. "What about you? How are *you* still alive?"
"Me?" he pointed to himself and shrugged. "Just lucky, I guess."
"You two, quiet!" snapped one of the guards.
Sheesh, can't even talk on the way to our deaths…
Still, I had to admit, 87465 really was lucky. One time, he was walking with another guy when a sports car flew out of nowhere. The other guy, walking on the left, got splattered on the spot. But just as the car was about to hit 87465—it exploded midair! Didn't even scratch him.
I glanced at him and sighed. We've survived a lot together, but this time? This is SCP-682 we're talking about. Not even luck can save us now.
Unless… unless that big lizard suddenly breaks out and runs away before we get there?
Just as that thought crossed my mind, alarms blared throughout the facility. Red lights flashed everywhere.
**"Emergency alert! SCP-682 has breached containment! All personnel, proceed with emergency protocol! Repeat, SCP-682 has breached containment!"**
We all froze.
I looked at 87465. He looked at me.
**Oh f**k. I was kidding.**
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