My next project was simple, brutal, and efficient—exactly what Site 999 required.
Talent.
A site this advanced needed more than technology, more than resources, more than anomalous miracle materials. It needed minds—brilliant ones, tireless ones, and most importantly, loyal ones. But geniuses were rare, unpredictable, and often annoyingly moral.
So I decided to start manufacturing my own.
Using my Kaminoan cloning systems, I began producing bodies—hundreds of them.Clones of random D-Class personnel, because in the end, I didn't care who the host template was. They were raw material. Nothing more.
Then came the real innovation:The Mindblower.A perfected, stabilized version of Rick Sanchez's memory gun—enhanced, upgraded, refined through SCP tech and my own genius.
I crafted memory cartridges containing vast libraries of scientific understanding:
Quantum physics
Dimensional theory
Genetic engineering
Biochemistry
Anomalous energetics
Star-level engineering
Interdimensional containment principles
And everything else I deemed useful
Each memory was compressed, sanitized, and arranged for seamless integration.
Then, as each clone matured, I fired the Mindblower.
One flash of blinding blue light—and a previously disposable D-Class became a high-level scientist with enough knowledge to rival Doctor Gears or Bright on a focused day.
Their minds were clean, sharp, engineered to be obedient, with built-in loyalty conditioning and neural anchors tying them to Site 999's command hierarchy—me at the top.
Within days, the halls of my underground super-lab were alive with new personnel:white-coated researchers, specialists, engineers, thaumaturgic theorists, and containment architects, all moving with the precision of a perfectly designed machine.
My machine.
Site 999 was no longer just advanced—
It was becoming the greatest scientific force in the multiverse, staffed by intellectual weapons I personally forged.
And this was only the beginning.