At this moment, SCP-173 was safely contained—so what the security team saw on the monitors couldn't have been it.
What they saw was Luo Shu.
The instant the bearded commander pulled the trigger, Luo Shu blinked.
And in that split second, he teleported behind the man.
The moment the ability activated, Luo Shu's hands itched to snap the commander's neck—a reflexive urge from SCP-173's power.
But he held back.
First, he didn't actually want to kill the commander.
Sure, the guy was violent and manipulative, but that was his job as MTF leader. Luo Shu could respect that.
Second, he wasn't sure he could break the commander's neck—not through that armored exoskeleton.
Third, and most critically—he had to keep his face hidden.
If they see me, I'm dead.
Using the neck-snap ability pained him.
He'd burned SCP-055's power to regain it, only to waste it immediately to survive.
Total loss.
But teleportation was his only escape.
Behind the commander lay the stairwell—freedom.
With one last glance at the man's vulnerable neck, Luo Shu slipped past him and descended.
Wait, bro, SCP-173's imaginary voice piped up. Aren't you going the wrong way? Up is exit!
Luo Shu scoffed. You know nothing.
With MTF swarming upstairs, going up was suicide.
The smart move? Down. To Basement Level 5.
Everyone at Site-19 knew:
Ground floor: Public facade.
B1: Offices and living quarters.
B2: Labs and archives.
B3: Safe-class containment.
B4: Euclid-class.
But B5?
The forgotten Keter sector—home to SCP-055.
To minimize its anti-memetic effects, B5 was buried 100 meters underground, with 50-meter-high ceilings.
At the edge of B4's stairwell, the anti-meme's influence began.
A descending staircase existed, yet no one noticed it.
Earlier, while searching for the Eye-Pods, Luo Shu had stumbled into B5 and realized:
No cameras.
With SCP-055 here, surveillance was pointless—footage would be unobservable anyway.
Hiding here was his best chance.
If he'd gone up, cameras would've doomed him.
The Chase
As Luo Shu descended, the commander's radio crackled:
"Behind you! He's behind you!"
The commander dived forward, twisting mid-air to unload his pistol into the stairwell.
All shots missed.
By the time he charged in, Luo Shu was gone.
"Where is he?!" he roared into the radio.
Monitoring replied, "No idea! Vanished in the stairs!"
Meanwhile, Luo Shu reached B5's landing.
Hiding wasn't enough.
The commander had seen his orange jumpsuit. Soon, they'd cross-check D-class rosters and find him missing.
He had to return before roll call—but going back now was suicide.
He needed another way.
The Vanishing Aftermath
With the anti-meme's effect gone, B4's security team blinked in confusion.
"What just happened?"
"Did someone order us to recontain 173?"
"I don't remember…"
Their memories flickered away, leaving only pre-breach recollections.
"I just remember the commander saying 173 might be loose."
"Right. Let's check… Unit's sealed. All good!"
They radioed the commander, who exploded:
"Morons! A D-class infiltrated B4! He ran past you!"
The team exchanged blank looks. "Uh… no one passed us, sir."
The commander growled. "Just confirm 173's contained. Forget the rest."
Monitoring was equally baffled, replaying footage of Luo Shu:
Appearing out of nowhere.
Teleporting behind the commander.
Vanishing down the stairs.
Yet to their eyes, the footage was **chopped—**showing only flashes of his presence.
The anti-meme's horror couldn't be clearer.
Even the Site Director studied the footage, baffled.
Unnoticed, Dr. Marian Wheeler slipped into his office, watching silently.
"He went to 055," she murmured.
The Director didn't react.
Wheeler left as quietly as she came, pistol in hand, heading for B5.