After activating Evolutionary Distortion, Luoshu's personal Hume surged to 150—restoring his vitality without triggering Foundation satellite surveillance.
At this level, the world itself seemed to shift in his perception.
Ahead, a massive blue vortex engulfed the entire security wing, its spiraling arms—alternating between light and dark—resembling a miniature galaxy.
The vortex's core was the door to SCP-CN-146.
The arms' brightness, Luoshu realized, reflected reality strength disparities:
Brighter arms: Higher ambient Hume.
Darker arms: Lower ambient Hume.
"My disciple, what's the ambient Hume here?"
"Fluctuating between 200 and 300, my Lord."
"So the dark arms are 200, the bright ones 300."
Wait—
That didn't make sense.
Area-13's Olympus Mons (SCP-3480) held Earth's lowest ambient Hume. Yet here, reality was denser than normal.
In other words: This was Earth's most reality-stable zone.
Which meant—
The Scranton Reality Anchors in C-E2 weren't stabilizing the area by drawing in reality...
They were siphoning reality out.
Was this the Edita Project's true purpose?
Opening the Door
Curiosity burning, Luoshu approached the vortex's heart—the door to SCP-CN-146.
"My disciple, open it."
"I lack the authority, my Lord."
Even with access to Level 4 credentials, "White Blood Cell" couldn't bypass this lock. The door required Level 5 or higher clearance.
Resigned, Luoshu pulled out SCP-005 (The Key)—then hesitated.
One thing the Foundation hadn't lied about: SCP-CN-146 was lethally dangerous.
If the leakage alone had 200-300 Hume, what awaited inside?
Glancing at the ceiling's Kant counters (each paired with a camera), he realized:
His current 150 Hume was negligible here. Even doubling it wouldn't draw orbital attention.
Decision made, he flipped to another page and activated:
Cult Leader Charisma.
His personal Hume spiked again, matching C-E2's ambient levels.
Only then did he turn SCP-005 in the lock—
The Light Beyond
The moment the door cracked open, blinding blue radiance erupted—
Luoshu's vision whited out. The light wasn't just visible; it pierced his body, leaving him translucent, as if dissolving into the glow.
A primal instinct screamed: "Close it or vanish!"
He slammed the door shut.
Silence.
Vision returning, Luoshu stared at his still-fading hands. That was too close.
That "light" wasn't electromagnetic—it was pure, overwhelming reality.
Against it, his near-500 Hume was a firefly challenging the sun.
Had he hesitated, he'd have joined the countless disappeared.
"My disciple... the ambient Hume at opening?"
"Unmeasurable. The Kant counters overloaded."
Luoshu's breath caught.
Kant counters maxed out at 2000 (Level 5 peak).
What he'd glimpsed was Level 6 reality distortion—
A Supreme Hyperborean Entity.
And he'd been unworthy to behold it.
The Missing Link
If SCP-CN-146 housed a world-ending deity, why hadn't it already destroyed everything?
What was the Edita Project really doing?
And—
Why did the Foundation drain reality from it?