After returning to Site-19 and having his hood removed, Luoshu noticed something odd—the Chainmaker's knot was gone.
The massive tangle of chains had vanished without a trace.
Big Beard Jack, seeing Luoshu's confusion, explained: "It finished its work, severed the connection, and then—poof—gone."
Luoshu already knew that.
What puzzled him was how such a huge mass of chains could just disappear.
Did the Chainmaker have some kind of dimensional breach?
He'd never heard of that.
But Luoshu didn't dwell on it. This world was full of anomalies—some things just couldn't be explained.
If he tried to unravel every mystery, even the combined resources of multiple Foundation sites wouldn't be enough.
Soon, Epsilon-11 handed the Chainmaker over to Site-19 for containment.
Following Luoshu's advice, the Site Director assigned it a standard Euclid-class humanoid containment unit on Sublevel-4, guarded by two security personnel armed with acid sprayers.
At that moment, the Anomalous Item Catalog finally updated.
[Page: 18]
[Item Number: SCP-1770]
[Designation: The Chainmaker]
[Object Class: Euclid]
[Image: …]
[Description: …]
[Special Containment Procedures: …]
[Anomalous Ability: Chain Creation. This is a form of matter and form conversion—transforming organic life into metallic chains. The process is irreversible. If you're tired of being human, give this a try.]
[Status: Successfully Contained]
[Contact History: Click to Play]
[O]
Luoshu wiped his forehead.
Just as he'd feared—this ability would turn him into Chainmaker 2.0.
Compared to the Keter-class Possessive Mask, this was useless.
He already had mental enslavement. He didn't need to become a chain monster.
But what disappointed him more was—
He didn't get naming rights.
Wasn't this a newly contained anomaly?
Well, to Luoshu, it wasn't.
But judging by the reactions of the Site Director and Big Beard Jack, they'd never encountered it before.
And in Luoshu's memory, the Chainmaker had always been contained at Site-19.
This should have been its first appearance in this world.
Yet Luoshu wasn't recognized as its discoverer.
Did that mean the original Foundation's files already had SCP-1770?
Maybe.
Which led to a bigger question—
Was the Anomalous Item Catalog based on this world, or Luoshu's original one?
If it belonged to this world, how could it know about something that had never appeared here before?
There was only one answer—
The Catalog, like Luoshu, came from his original world.
That was… interesting.
Did that mean his original world also had anomalies, just hidden from ordinary people like him?
The mysteries kept piling up, far beyond Luoshu's ability to solve.
So he stopped thinking about it and focused on the present.
After SCP-1770's containment, Site-19 researchers began standard testing.
As the containment expert who first identified its weakness, Luoshu was once again invited to the Site Director's office to observe via surveillance feed—just like with "The Stubborn 6."
This wasn't an honor granted to just anyone—only those who led the containment of a new Euclid-class anomaly received such treatment.
Ironically, while the Catalog didn't recognize Luoshu as the discoverer, the Foundation did.
Reality could be funny that way.
Still, Luoshu would rather shed his D-class status than enjoy these privileges.
He needed freedom.
Hopefully, his contributions to SCP-1770's containment would be enough to convince the O5 Council.
As Luoshu zoned out, a Senior Researcher began the first interview with the Chainmaker.
"Where is the air? No breath, no flow, no reason. Blind, deaf, numb. Where is the art?"
The Chainmaker's pretentious artist phase had begun.
The researcher blinked. "Sorry, 1770, I don't understand."
What followed was a one-sided monologue.
"Where is the storm? Broken or gone? Why?"
"I was always loyal, obedient, following. I gave it what it wanted—the knot."
"They were perfect, all of them. Greedy, wanting them all."
"Until it no longer wanted them. No longer wanted me. I was angry. Refused to stop making it."
"I was a fool. So foolish, so angry. I should have known—you do not defy the storm."
"It took the hunger, the perfection, the art. It took everything."
The Chainmaker sounded like a melodramatic poet.
Neither the researcher nor Luoshu could make sense of its ramblings.
No matter what questions were asked, the Chainmaker kept spouting nonsense.
The interview ended in frustration.
The Site Director sighed and turned to Luoshu. "This thing's impossible to talk to. Any suggestions?"
What could he say?
Trying to reason with a pretentious artist was hopeless.
Unless…
You spoke its language.
Art.
An idea struck Luoshu.
The Foundation often conducted cross-testing between anomalies.
And there was one particular SCP he'd been wanting to meet—but never had the chance.
Maybe the Chainmaker was the key.
So he nodded. "I have a suggestion—though I don't know if Site-19 has the means. Given 1770's obsession with its 'art,' it's clearly an enthusiast. If there's another humanoid anomaly here that appreciates art and can communicate, maybe they could… interact."
The Site Director's eyes lit up.
"Actually… we do have someone like that."