[I have a picture of Anna in my pocket. I almost forgot about it. Little Red Light, can you let me see her face? Just for a moment… I just want to see her again.]
[Hi, Anna, I'm still here. I'll come back. Wait for me, okay?]
The voice was cracked, trembling, and full of longing.
On the screen, Dr. Robert Scranton's fragmented sentences carried across the dark void, echoing through the Marvel world's live broadcast feed. The audience sat frozen — every syllable tore at their hearts.
He had searched, wandered, and examined every invisible inch of this broken dimension. Yet everywhere he went, there was only emptiness.
His body refused to decay, but it was no blessing — it was a curse of endless existence.
This was not survival — it was eternal suffering.
Only two months and four days had passed.
---
Inside S.H.I.E.L.D., the agents were visibly shaken.
"F**k…" someone muttered under his breath, "it's just… so suffocating."
Natasha Romanoff pressed her hand over her mouth, eyes glistening.
"Dr. Scranton is alive," she whispered, "but he might as well be dead."
Her voice broke. "It's just like SCP-001… endless suffering disguised as existence."
For both Dr. Loggat and Dr. Scranton, death would have been mercy.
Even Nick Fury, usually unflinching, swallowed hard. But before he could speak, new lines appeared on the holographic screen.
> [Okay… let's start now. Deep breath.]
[My name is Robert Scranton. I was a researcher at Site-120, a facility dedicated to studying reality-bending SCPs. Our goal was to develop stronger countermeasures against anomalies.]
Even trapped beyond existence, Scranton tried to cling to logic — to stay sane.
> [No one's here to argue with me now. I can only talk to this control panel to keep myself focused.]
[I have to record this. Maybe some unlucky soul ends up here after me. Maybe my data can prevent this from happening again. That's all I can do now… and I need a little hope. Hahaha…]
[So, uh, Robert Scranton, for future research, record a new SCP file. Good idea. Let's start.]
The moment that sentence was spoken, the world fell silent.
Even hardened agents and battle-tested heroes felt a lump in their throats.
"Why do good people always suffer like this?" someone in the chat cried.
"He's still thinking about others!"
"God, bless this man…"
He wasn't just surviving — he was still being a scientist, still being human.
---
James — who had taken control of the feed — opened the next document.
Dr. Scranton's weary voice returned. Still shaky. Still human.
> [Two months, eleven days, ten hours.]
[Item number… SCP-I don't care anymore.]
[Object class… Euclid, I guess. Not sure. Maybe I'll update it later. I need to learn more.]
[Special Containment Procedures… god, my voice sounds so dry. I don't even know if this place can be contained.]
[It's definitely not Earth. I think it's related to the stabilizer prototype. I'll explain later. By the way, I don't think it can be contained. No… "entered" is better. I entered here during a bad reality distortion accident. And… no, no, Robert, don't say there's no exit. Keep faith. Live. Pray… halfway… here. Cough.]
Inside Stark Tower, both Tony Stark and Colonel Rhodes sat frozen.
"He's… still trying to reason it out," Rhodes murmured.
Stark nodded grimly. "He's fighting to stay focused — still analyzing, still hoping this space isn't sealed forever. The man's willpower is terrifying."
Even Tony Stark — the man who faced gods and titans — couldn't hide his respect.
---
> [Two months, eleven days, eighteen hours.]
[This place… it's some kind of reality crack.]
[It's pitch black. The red light that records my voice is the only visible thing. I can't see my hand, can't see the control panel. I use this light to measure my steps. I never go beyond a hundred steps. I'm too scared.]
No one dared laugh.
How could you not be afraid, exploring a lightless void with only a single red glow keeping you company?
One wrong step, and the light disappears forever — and with it, your last link to sanity.
> [I wonder if my hair's turned gray. Can't tell. My scalp itches… my face stings. Why?]
Natasha gasped. Her hands trembled. "He doesn't know… but we do."
Fury's voice dropped low. "His body's breaking down."
She nodded tearfully. "Two months in — and his tissue's collapsing. The Hume field inside him is decaying to match the void. His body's losing structure."
---
> [Two months, fifteen days, four hours.]
[I think I found something new. I've been walking — or maybe swimming. This place feels thick. Not air, not liquid. Something else.]
[There's pressure here. I know that's not the right word, but f**k it, nothing here follows the rules! I'm trying to understand it, okay?!]
The audience erupted again — not in laughter, but awe.
"How strong is this guy?"
"He's still experimenting while he's falling apart!"
"God, he's a genius… and a monster of will."
Inside S.H.I.E.L.D., experts began analyzing.
"It's not vacuum," said one physicist. "A vacuum still obeys physical law. This place doesn't."
Fury frowned. "Then what is it?"
"Something new. A realm without physical constants. It exists, but doesn't obey existence."
---
> [Two months, seventeen days, two hours.]
[Navigation depends on willpower. Movement feels… subjective. This isn't a pure reality crack — by theory, I shouldn't move at all if it was.]
"That means it's a space," the physicist confirmed. "Not a gap between realities — a broken, malformed space."
Natasha frowned. "But if it doesn't exist in reality, can we call it a space?"
"Yes. A degenerated one. Time and motion are minimal, but not gone."
Dr. Scranton continued his eerie calm analysis:
> [Okay, good. That makes sense. Think, Robert, think. I left the red light and came back — so time must exist. That's why I didn't die of thirst or hunger. Time barely moves here.]
[Imagine the red light as the origin of 3D space. I can move "down," then "up." I can even "fly" through it. Movement feels slow, like swimming in jelly.]
Everyone listening felt goosebumps.
Even as his body decayed and mind eroded, he was still documenting the unknown — still rationalizing cosmic horror.
Natasha whispered, "He's… remarkable."
The physicist nodded firmly. "Incredible. What he's doing has value. If his theory's correct, his personal Hume field lets him manipulate reality inside this void."
"Wait — what?" Natasha turned.
"Yes. He's effectively becoming a reality twister. In normal reality, bending physics requires immense energy. But here, the Hume level is near zero — it's so weak that even a human's will can reshape it."
Nick Fury's single eye widened. "You're saying this man… is turning into a god?"
The physicist adjusted his glasses. "In theory — yes. A god-level reality warper."
Gasps rippled through the room.
"But remember," he added grimly, "even a god in a dead world has nothing to rule. It's like having the power to command oceans while trapped in a desert."
The agents fell silent again.
The truth was unbearable. In a world without reality, even omnipotence means nothing.
---
Time passed. Despair returned.
> [Two months, twenty-two days, three hours.]
[Report updated, Red, sir! Hahaha! Come on, Red, light it up! Puns are fun! Red, smile! The counter-tribute is interesting! Ha!]
The tone was manic now. The scientist's brilliance and the human mind's breaking point had finally collided.
Dr. Scranton laughed at his own madness — joking with the red light, the only "companion" he had left in this empty hell.
He had gained the power to warp reality, but had nothing left to shape.
No ground.
No sky.
No hope.
Just the endless red darkness, swallowing everything, even reason.
Inside S.H.I.E.L.D., the agents sat in silence.
Rhodes clenched his fists. "He's losing it."
Stark whispered, "Yeah… and it's not his fault. When you stare into a void long enough, the void stares back."
Natasha wiped her eyes. "He's become something beyond human… but he's still suffering like one."
The physicist turned solemn. "In the end, that's the greatest irony of SCP-3001 — the place that could make you a god… only so it can torture you forever."
The red light on the recording blinked one last time — dim, trembling — and then silence fell again.
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