I sat beside my daughter on the reinforced couch inside the private containment wing—well, "containment" in name only now. What used to be a heavily shielded chamber had slowly transformed into something between a living room and a safehouse suite. The strongest runic wards, psionic dampeners, and technomantic barriers were still embedded into the walls, but if you didn't know what they were, you might mistake them for decorative patterns.
My daughter—my sweet little girl—sat cross-legged beside me, giggling as she played with a holographic puzzle sphere. Two years ago she had been a toddler who could accidentally distort probability just by getting excited. Now she was twelve, bright, beautiful, and far too powerful for comfort.
And yet… thanks to the bracelet, she could actually live.
The bracelet on her wrist looked like nothing more than a cute accessory: silver, thin, a faint pink glow circling the gem on the center. But inside it? Layer upon layer of technology no one else on Earth could replicate. Not without Rick Grimes' mind lodged inside mine—his absurd, terrifying, brilliant understanding of multidimensional engineering.
The only reason my daughter wasn't classified as Keter-Apocalypse was because this bracelet reduced her abilities from a world-ending threat down to a manageable Level 4.
Not harmless.
But livable.
She swung her legs and leaned lightly against me."Daddy, look! I solved the quantum lock puzzle again!"
The sphere folded into itself like a blooming flower before vanishing into a pocket of warped space. A trick she shouldn't have been able to do through the bracelet… unless she'd found a loophole.
Again.
I raised an eyebrow. "You're not bypassing the limiter again, are you?"
She grinned—wide, innocent, and suspicious as hell."Maybe."
I sighed. "You know the other O5s—Julius, Darius, Cleopatra, Sun Tzu—they already think letting you be awake is dangerous. If they find out you're slipping past your safety cap again—"
"Then they'll put me back to sleep forever," she said quietly.
Her voice softened, trembling at the edges.
That was the unspoken fear beneath everything: before I intervened, the council wanted the safest option. Permanently sedated. Permanently comatose. Permanently contained.
Because she wasn't just a child.
She was a reality quake waiting to happen.
I lifted her chin gently. "Hey. I won't let that happen. Ever. That's why the limiter exists—to keep you safe. To make the others trust you."
She nodded slowly."I know… but I don't want to be scary. I don't want people to be afraid of me."
I pulled her into a hug, and she melted against me, small arms wrapped around my waist.
"You're not scary," I whispered into her hair. "You're my daughter. That's all that matters."
She sniffed lightly. "But what if I mess up?"
"Then I'll be there."
Her fingers played with the bracelet. "You promise?"
"With everything I am."
She relaxed, tension fading. For a moment, she wasn't an anomaly. She wasn't a world-breaker. She was just my little girl who liked puzzles and sweets and sitting with me while I worked.
She looked up with bright, curious eyes."Daddy… can we do something fun today? We always work. You don't get a lot of happy time."
I laughed softly. "What did you have in mind?"
She beamed. "Can we go to the observation deck and look at the stars? I like how they twinkle. They feel… quiet."
Quiet. Stable. Predictable. Unlike reality around her.
"That sounds perfect," I said.
She hopped off the couch immediately, practically bouncing with excitement—but not enough to break physics this time. The bracelet pulsed gently, adjusting like a heartbeat.
Before she reached the door, she paused and turned back to me.
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you… for fighting for me. For not letting them put me in that coma. For… wanting me."
That hit harder than any SCP containment breach ever had.
I swallowed. "You're my greatest creation, my greatest responsibility, and my greatest joy. I'll always want you."
She smiled so brightly it made my chest ache.
And as she took my hand and we started walking toward the observation deck, I couldn't help thinking:
With all the monsters, gods, eldritch entities, and cosmic horrors we've faced… nothing in this universe or any other scared me more than the thought of losing her.
But with the bracelet, the friendships of my fellow reincarnators, and the ever-expanding power of the Foundation…
Maybe—just maybe—she could grow up safe.
And maybe I could be the father she deserved.