SCP-500.A simple plastic container, light in my palm—yet worth more than every kingdom, empire, and treasury in this entire world combined.
Inside were forty-seven red pills.Forty-seven miracles.Forty-seven guaranteed cures for any disease, natural or anomalous. Even SCP-008. Even things this world had never imagined.
The moment it manifested, it appeared directly in my hand, as if the God overseeing this world wanted to personally ensure it didn't get lost or stolen. I froze, feeling the weight of it—not physical, but the importance. Doctor Bright's eyes went wide. Even The Watcher looked stunned through the system feed.
But it was limited. Painfully limited.
Forty-seven pills. That was all. And in a world riddled with plague, curses, infections, and whatever monsters would eventually be summoned, forty-seven wasn't enough. Not even close.
So I turned immediately to the one asset capable of giving us hope:SCP-038 — the cloning tree.
We began the experiment with extreme care. One pill, placed gently against the bark. The tree accepted it instantly, and moments later, a perfect copy grew from the branches. Then another. And another.
But something was… off.
The cloned pills didn't radiate the same anomalous potency as the originals. They worked—yes. But only partially. Perfect for treating mundane illnesses, poisons, infections, fevers, and even some supernatural conditions… but nowhere near the full, absolute curing power of genuine SCP-500.
A limited success.
Still invaluable.
We now had a renewable supply of strong healing pills. Not miracles, but lifesavers—enough to stabilize our forces, protect our researchers, and drastically reduce casualties.
The originals?Those forty-seven remained untouched, secured under multiple layers of protection. Reserved only for the absolute worst catastrophes.
As I held the container, I exhaled slowly.
Another year.Another blessing.Another step toward building a Foundation that could survive what's coming