The Red Right Hand leader hung up the phone, his face dark. "Chaos Insurgency has launched a full-scale assault on Site-17! We need to move—now!"
In that instant, Luo Shu pieced it all together.
This was a diversion.
No wonder the Chaos Insurgency had invested so much effort into SCP-100—a low-strategic-value anomaly. Teaching SCP-100-1, a rudimentary mechanoid, to build Transformers? That wasn't just difficult—it was suspicious.
Their real goal? Drain MTF Epsilon-11's forces.
And it worked.
Two days ago, Site-17's field team was nearly wiped out. Today, even their logistics squad was pulled into the SCP-100 operation.
Now, Site-17 stood defenseless—only basic security remained. Enough for daily operations, but against a Chaos Insurgency raid? Or worse, a containment breach?
Disaster.
And Luo Shu was certain: Chaos had more moves planned.
He was right.
When the MTF rushed back to their parked vehicles at the junkyard's perimeter, they found every car sabotaged. Unusable without major repairs.
The nearest city? 80 kilometers away. By the time the Foundation scrambled backup transport, Site-17 would be gone.
The Red Right Hand leader cursed, dialing frantically for solutions.
Then Luo Shu stepped forward.
"I've got this."
Under bewildered stares, he returned to SCP-100 and called in a favor.
"Hey, buddy! Business opportunity! I need 30 cars—just make sure they don't die within a few hundred kilometers."
SCP-100-1 obliged.
Autobots still inside the fence scavenged the least-wrecked vehicles. Terminator-turned-mechanics replaced parts. Soon, a fleet of Frankenstein cars rolled out:
A RV with truck tires.
A convertible SUV (because someone chopped off the roof).
A monster pickup towing a train of random trailers.
The designs were abominations, but they'd work.
MTF operatives boarded, helmets firmly obscuring their faces.
If you don't cringe, the cringe belongs to others.
The convoy rumbled onto the highway—loudly. Every bolt rattled; parts occasionally flew off. Passing drivers gawked, mistaking it for a post-apocalyptic parade.
SCP-100-1's motto: "Quality optional, functionality… debatable."
But by sheer anomalous friendship, the cars held. They reached Site-17's gates before collectively giving up the ghost.
Site-17: Under Siege
Site-17 was one of the Foundation's oldest facilities, specializing in humanoid anomalies:
SCP-053 (the cursed girl).
SCP-073 ("Cain").
SCP-105 ("Iris").
SCP-196 ("Time Paradox").
SCP-343 ("God").
Luo Shu had always wanted to visit.
Now he was here—amid chaos.
The above-ground facility burned, smoke choking the Florida sky. Foundation and Chaos forces clashed in the streets, locked in a standoff.
Epsilon-11's early arrival changed the game. Chaos hadn't expected them to bypass the transport issue. Within minutes, the invaders were pushed back.
But the real nightmare was underground.
Corridors were littered with corpses. Dozens of Euclid-class breaches. Roaming anomalies.
A panicked voice crackled over the comms:
"We're overrun! Send containment specialists—NOW!"
Big Beard Jack and the Red Right Hand leader turned to Luo Shu.
Your turn.