From the system store, I purchased something I had been wanting ever since we began operating in earnest among normal humans:
A Neuralyzer.Straight from Men in Black.
A handheld memory‑wipe device capable of erasing, altering, or reshaping memories with a precise flash and a simple spoken suggestion. In a medieval world—where word spreads through rumors, superstition, and terrified witnesses—this thing was practically divine.
And with my intelligence?
With my curse of knowledge, my scientific mastery, and the technological empire I'd already jump‑started?
I didn't use the Neuralyzer.I reverse‑engineered it.
Piece by piece.Circuit by circuit.Function by function.
Where the original existed using fictional alien tech, I rebuilt it using:
vibranium derivatives
early plasma‑conduits
micro‑lens matrices
and conceptual engineering principles I'd invented myself
It took months of nonstop work.Doctor Bright hovered over my shoulder, equal parts horrified and impressed.
But eventually…
I succeeded.
We created multiple Neuralyzers—some handheld, some integrated into security systems, some mounted discreetly around key facility entrances.
Now?
If anyone saw something they shouldn't…
If a spy got too close…
If an anomalous event was witnessed by a nearby village…
If even a king, a noble, or a wandering warrior discovered something they absolutely were not meant to know…
FLASH.
A reset.A rewrite.A clean slate.
Our secrecy wasn't just protected anymore.
It was unbreakable.
The medieval world had no defenses against this. No cameras, no written records that couldn't be "corrected," no rapid communication. A single flash of light could erase an entire conspiracy.
With SCP‑2000 securedand Neuralyzers now mass‑produced,
The Foundation had finally stepped into the shadows as the true hidden power of Earth.
And no one—not kings, not armies, not future superhuman empires—would ever see us coming.