Wakanda was dead.Site-999 was born.
A name carried power. A name carried destiny. And so I chose a name tied to hope, tied to survival, tied to the single anomaly that—according to every prophecy, every future-reading, every fragment of meta-knowledge—would one day save existence from the Scarlet King himself.
SCP-999.
The Tickle Monster. The embodiment of joy.A creature destined to defeat a multiversal god.
If I was going to build a site that would stand between our universe and its end, then it deserved a name that carried divine irony—and cosmic luck.
Site-999.
A fortress of science built atop the ruins of a hidden kingdom, wrapped in barriers more advanced than anything on Earth, and containing technologies that could reshape reality. If anything in the multiverse could thwart gods, eldritch tyrants, and threats beyond comprehension, it would be the projects housed here.
And I made sure of that.
The Great Relocation
Once the underground complex was stable, powered, and sealed, I began the migration.
Every resource that mattered—physical, intellectual, anomalous—was redirected into Site-999 like blood into a newborn heart.
Operation Phoenix was the first to move.The resurrection program for the O5 Council—my masterpiece—deserved a home worthy of its importance. Entire wings were built to maintain cloning pods, consciousness transfers, memory backups, and body reconstruction facilities.
Kaminoan cloning technology followed.The smooth, perfectly designed equipment of a galaxy far beyond our own was lowered into the deepest secured levels. Rows of new vats were installed, and the first batch of fresh bodies began growing within hours.
Next came the Star Wars energy-weapon division—blasters, plasma rifles, ion disruptors, hyper-cooled focusing arrays. The Death Troopers' armament labs were installed adjacent to the armory sectors. New prototypes would be forged there soon.
Then came the crown jewels:
Vibranium Research — Centralized
Every scrap, every tool, every experiment related to vibranium was moved into Sector-V of Site-999. With the entire Wakandan stockpile at my fingertips, this would become the beating heart of the world's most advanced materials lab.
Infinity Stone Research — Relocated
The Tesseract, still hidden from the Council, now sat in my private vault beneath thirty-seven layers of multidimensional sealing. Reality Stone studies were integrated as well—my personal project.
SCP-999 — Safely Transferred
He was delighted, of course—bouncing excitedly through the corridors, spreading joy and chemically-induced euphoria. Every scientist who encountered him left the encounter smiling.
But beneath the cuteness, beneath the giggles, we all knew the truth:He was a weapon against the Scarlet King.And he needed to be here.
SCP-500 — Miracle Cure Division
The pill that could heal anything. One of the most valuable anomalies ever discovered.
We moved it into the newly-built biomedical wing, hoping to finally analyze, replicate, and mass-produce its effects. If we succeeded, disease would become extinct. If we failed, we still had the original—safe and secure.
SCP-294 — "The Vending Machine"
Most people saw it as a novelty.
Idiots.
This thing could produce liquid vibranium, theoretical liquids, dimensionally-impossible substances—and perhaps much more. Its potential was terrifyingly unexplored.
Even if it turned out to have limits, it would at least supply the break room with infinite coffee, which already made the scientists adore it.
SCP-42 — The Philosopher's Stone
Immortality, transmutation, alchemical perfection.
The stone had been classified as SCP-42 after its recovery. Now it sat in Site-999's alchemical research wing, alongside the most gifted transmutation specialists from across the Foundation's many worlds.
Together, these anomalies represented everything we would need to confront future threats—divine, cosmic, or otherwise.
The Personnel Migration
To transform Site-999 into the ultimate research nexus, I gathered every brilliant mind I trusted:
Dr. Gears — cold, calculating, irreplaceable.
Dr. Jack Bright — chaotic, brilliant, immortal, useful beyond measure.
Orochimaru — my serpentine genius, whose scientific creativity bordered on madness.
Professor Kain Pathos Crow — polite, refined, and frighteningly intelligent.
And countless other talented scientists, researchers, engineers, biologists, thaumaturges, and analysts. Only the best. Only the irreplaceable.
I didn't just build a laboratory.I built an ark.
A sanctuary of intellect.
A congregation of the brightest minds from dozens of universes.
Site-999 was where the Foundation's future would be forged.
Becoming the Director
Of course, no one could know that I—O5-1—was the one in charge.
Instead, I assumed the role of the personal assistant of O5-1, one of my long-used aliases. A high-ranking administrative identity that allowed me to give orders with absolute authority without exposing the truth.
No one questioned it.
After all, the assistant of O5-1 carried terrifying power on paper.And the foundation feared power more deeply than any anomaly.
As the official Site Director, my alias handled all operations:
Full command over research.
Full command over personnel.
Full command over the anomalies.
Highest clearance on Earth outside the O5 Council itself.
Site-999 officially became a Class-5 Facility—the highest possible classification. A site that surpassed even Site-01 in secrecy and research potential.
It took nearly a full year to complete the administrative setup, personnel relocation, clearance restructuring, and internal security protocols. The bureaucracy alone was insane.
But now—
It was done.
Site-999 was operational.
My domain was complete.
And the universe would never again be the same.