S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters was cloaked in a tension so thick it felt like the air itself had turned heavy.
The agents, usually proud of being the most elite within the organization, had lost all color in their faces. They had dealt with politicians, terrorist networks, global conspiracies, and even enhanced individuals who could level buildings with their bare hands. But none of that prepared them for the thing now looming across the abyssal broadcast feed.
If the supposed 900-kilometer body length of SCP-3000 had been difficult enough for their minds to process, then the figure before them had completely shattered all human concepts of proportion and sanity. The sheer scale and menace of it was no less than witnessing the stag-like manifestation they had seen before, but this—this was infinitely worse.
The room vibrated with panicked whispers until Natasha Romanoff broke the silence, her voice unsteady but sharp:
"So… it's Chaos?"
Nick Fury's jaw clenched. His one good eye stared unflinchingly at the distorted image of the being filling the feed. His tone was grave, though his words betrayed disbelief.
"No," Fury muttered, shaking his head slowly. "Chaos is usually described as a mass of humanoid entities. This… this thing resembles a lantern fish in the deepest sea."
The comparison itself sounded absurd to him, but there was no better description. What kind of lantern fish occupied an entire space like a planet's ocean trench? What kind of "fish" carried the aura of an ancient god?
Kamar-Taj
Half a world away, in the sacred halls of Kamar-Taj, young apprentices gasped aloud as they too watched the broadcast projection. Even they, trained to remain calm, could not hold back their terror.
The Ancient One herself narrowed her eyes at the sight. Her expression, usually unreadable, betrayed a flicker of unease. At first glance, the monstrous presence had startled even her.
From the moment the Abyss Gazers' signals vanished off radar, she realized they were no longer inside the Manila Trench.
They had crossed into something else.
The Chaos Abyss.
The mission was not over—it had only just crossed the threshold of true horror. And now not only had the picture feed begun flickering with interference, but all radio channels had gone dead.
Inside the command room, scientists and researchers descended into confusion.
"What the hell is that thing?!" one researcher stammered.
"Is it even alive, or just… one mass?"
"It looks like a lantern fish—"
"A lantern fish the size of a city? Are you insane!?"
Another voice rose above the noise, trembling:
"What about the Abyss Gazers? Where are they!?"
That single reminder made the entire room fall quiet. Whatever this "Chaos" was, its significance was nothing compared to knowing what had happened to the elite strike team trapped inside.
A Voice from the Radio
Just then, a harsh electronic hiss crackled across the radio systems.
"Szzzzt—"
The sound of broken frequency filled the air.
"Silence!" the minister barked, raising a hand.
The entire command room froze. Every researcher leaned closer, ears straining.
James, seated at the operator's console, immediately began working the knobs. His fingers moved with precision, his eyes reflecting the glow of the static-filled screen. Right turn, ninety degrees. Left turn, forty-five. Each twist filled the air with violent static until—
"…zzzt—I am…"
The minister's heart leapt. "Stop! Keep it here!"
The static distorted again, and then—
"…I am the captain of MTF-Gengzi-03… Abyss Gazers… zzzt…"
The room exploded with shock. People gasped, hands flew to mouths.
"They're alive!" someone cried. "At least one is alive!"
But before relief could fully bloom, the voice broke again.
"…I am… the last survivor."
The words crashed into the room like a thunderclap. Faces drained of hope, replaced with horror.
The minister stood frozen, his lips trembling. Everyone in the room looked as if their hearts had been crushed.
"…Last survivor? What… what does that mean?" one researcher whispered, though he already knew.
The radio sputtered again, the captain's voice broken, coughing.
"…everyone else… dead… cough—Chaos—it's real. I saw it. It wants… to go back. Whoever finds this recording… Pandora's Box… is about to be opened…"
Then silence. Only static remained.
The room descended into stunned silence. Several researchers shook their heads violently, as though denying reality itself.
A Flicker on the Screen
The minister was still reeling when he noticed James typing furiously at the console.
"K.R…" James muttered.
The minister blinked. "What?"
"Record."
Those two words lit a spark in the minister's chest. Of course—the captain mentioned a video recording!
James adjusted the systems with sharp precision.
Suddenly the screen brightened. Fuzzy at first, then clearer.
The room collectively held its breath as the feed came through.
For only an instant—a dark silhouette flitted across the frame. Then the screen collapsed into blinding static, as though the very signal was being devoured.
But one glimpse was enough. The figure embedded itself into every mind present.
Chaos.
It was like a knife stabbing through the rational parts of their brains. The sheer wrongness of it bypassed logic, burrowing straight into instinct and soul.
The live broadcast audience online went wild:
"Oh my god! That's Chaos, isn't it?!"
"My brain hurts just looking at it!"
"Is this… the child of Yaldabaoth, the Supreme God?!"
"What about the Abyss Gazers—are they all gone?"
No one had answers.
The sunlight streaming through the command room's windows no longer felt warm. Instead, everyone shivered. The shadow of Chaos clung to them like frost in their bones.
S.H.I.E.L.D.
Back at S.H.I.E.L.D., silence hung.
Natasha whispered: "So the Abyss Gazers… are dead?"
Nick Fury exhaled slowly, shaking his head. His voice carried the weight of inevitability.
"Death might be too merciful."
Natasha's brows furrowed, but then Fury's words triggered a memory.
"Don't forget what the mermaid said before they left," Fury continued grimly.
Her eyes widened. She remembered the chilling farewell from the abyssal creature:
"May you not feel pain during the infinite time you spend in the abyss…"
A cruel sneer. A curse disguised as a blessing. Natasha's blood ran cold.
Visions of the Ancient One
At Kamar-Taj, the Ancient One gasped sharply. Her eyes widened, filled with dread.
What she saw was not just Chaos. She saw visions laced into its very presence:
Plains of fire and bone.
Seas of blood and corpses.
A universe stillborn in the abyss.
Shadows devouring the last night among the stars.
Her sanity buckled. Even for her, the distortion was overwhelming—more violent than the Crimson King himself.
If Chaos broke free… if Yaldabaoth shattered the silver net prison of Maccan…
She could not even imagine the ruin that would follow.
The Watcher's Doubt
In his lonely dimension, the Watcher Uatu also stared in awe.
Why would a god as mighty as Chaos be imprisoned at all?
How could Yaldabaoth, a being beyond comprehension, be trapped by chains?
There was only one answer.
A Supreme God can only be imprisoned by another Supreme God.
Uatu's lips moved, whispering a forbidden name that chilled even him. His fear twisted into something else—curiosity.
A New Containment
Back in the command room, all eyes turned to the minister. His expression hardened as he forced himself to speak.
"Effective immediately—reclassify SCP-492 as Keter class."
No one objected.
The treacherous abyss, the colossal lifeforms, and above all Chaos itself justified nothing less.
He added in an unyielding tone:
"No one is to enter SCP-492's depths beyond one thousand meters without direct authorization. Any personnel exposed to anomalous entities will receive Class B amnestics."
James rose to his feet. "I'll petition Parliament to expand resources. Multiple departments must work on countermeasures for SCP-492-A. If Chaos escapes, it's only a matter of time before we face a full K-class end-of-the-world scenario."
His words chilled the room further. Everyone knew it was true.
A Bitter Truth
Later, when the staff had dispersed, only James and the minister remained.
The minister lit a cigarette, inhaling shakily before exhaling smoke as if trying to purge his dread.
"So the Abyss Gazers…" he asked quietly.
"Dead," James answered firmly. His eyes were sharp, merciless. "Better to think of them that way. For their sake."
The minister grimaced. "They were good men. Some of the best."
James' gaze lingered on the blackened screen. "Precisely why death is mercy. Otherwise, their fate is far worse."
Six Beasts
The minister finally spoke what had weighed on him. "So… you were really sent to contact the Four Beasts?"
James shook his head. "Six. Six descendants of Yaldabaoth."
The minister's face darkened. Still, he extended his hand. "Then thank you for helping us in this mission. An agent will escort you to the next site… another containment of Yaldabaoth's spawn."
James blinked, surprised. "Containment?"
"That's right," the minister said, forcing a thin smile. "When it comes to anomalies, humanity refuses to bow without a fight."
The broadcast froze on that grim smile.
Next Mission
When the image resumed, James was aboard a transport plane, the drone of its engines humming outside. He wore a thick coat, files clutched tightly in his hand.
The paper bore the next designation:
[Project Name: Taotie]
[Item No.: SCP-500]
[Object Class: Keter]
The storm had only just begun.
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