A blond man laid upon an altar, dead. Crimson liquid slowly dripped from his head where a blood red crown sat. Creatures constructed with bits and pieces of bone, shell and trash circle and chant towards the man. Their body’s dripped black liquid as they gave frenzied prayers towards the altar. They raised their appendages to the sky, filled with flying beasts and several crimson moons. The man on the altar began to shake as the chanting grew more and more intense.

Then all of a sudden the chanting ceased as a tall figure began to approach the man. The cultists made way for the creature. It towered over everything around it, perpetually just taller than anything you could compare it to. It had countless long thin bony arms and wrapped itself in a mountain of feathers and bile. It’s face was indiscernible, buried within the refuse of its body. It paused for a moment, before it reached within its flesh and pulled out a bright red ball of light.

It’s arm cracked and twisted as it moved the light towards the body, wisps of red smoke trailing off the ball. However, just before the creature could push the light into the crown, the man at the altar vanished from the spot without a trace. Confusion overtook the monster, before turning to understanding and rage. The creature screamed in anger and countless arms shot from it’s plumage. The arms tore apart the cultists, destroying everything within its reach, and the monster could reach everything.

Until after quite some time, only the cries of the eldritch beast itself could be heard within the dead world it resided.

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The man's corpse appeared midair in the cafeteria of a certain facility, before crashing down into the table below, ruining Steve's scrambled eggs. All eyes turned to the corpse, before a guard finally lifted his radio.

“Send up Dr. Hearthgrieve, I think Houdini might be dead.”

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Several dozen miles away a young well-built man named Michael was fixing the satellite dish atop his house. He jostled the dish around, not quite sure exactly how to fix it.

He yelled down towards the house, “Hey Hugh, are there any changes with the T.V.?”

“Nope, are you shaking it!”

“What do you think jackass, of course I am!”

Why was he the one up here anyways, they split the rent but every time something breaks in this house he ends up having to fix it.

Anyways, looks like he’d need to call in a professional tomorrow, it better not be an expensive fix. Who was he kidding, it’s going to be super expensive.

With a sigh, Michael began to descend the steep roof when suddenly the shingles under his feet came loose, causing him to lose balance. Michael tumbled down the roof, unable to right himself before falling head first onto the pavement below. A sickening crack echoed out from where he landed.

Several moments pass before a bright blue ball of light is ripped out from Michael’s body, rocketing off into the distance, leaving a rather annoyed Hugh wondering why his T.V. wasn’t working yet.

The orb flew fast as light towards its destination, before dipping below the earth and rocketing into the crimson crown of the ritual victim who still lay sprawled atop the cafeteria table, and Steve's ruined breakfast.

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When Michael woke up, everything hurt and his head felt groggy. He looked around expecting to be in a hospital, instead he was laying on a cot inside of a concrete room with a large mirror covering most of the far wall. The only door looked heavily reinforced, and upon closer inspection had no actual handle to open it with. All corners of the room had cameras and a table with two chairs sat in the middle of the room.

Standing up, Michael felt weirdly heavier. Upon looking down he saw a pudgy belly and skin a good bit paler than what he should have.

“Um...what in the actual fuck.”

Michael quickly began to study himself in the mirror. Short blonde hair and green eyes sat upon the short, unathletic build of the man in the reflection.

He paused in thought , Is this some sort of isekai bullshit? Don’t they usually get overpowered abilities with their new bodies? Why’s this body look like it hasn’t seen a gym in the past decade?

However, the strangest part of his new body was undoubtedly the crimson crown on his head. It looked to be incredibly intricate, with rubies decorating it’s exterior and hundreds of small symbols carved into it. When he tried to take it off, it stuck firmly to his head.

Moving towards one of the cameras, Michael waved his arms.

“Hey where am I? I wanna talk to somebody!”

A moment later a staticky voice could be heard from the camera, “Calm down 507, please take a seat at the table. Dr. Hearthgrieve will be with you shortly.”

Michael saw no reason to not comply. So he reluctantly sat down at the table and a few minutes passed before a thin scientist walked into the room carrying a briefcase.

“Good evening Tommy, I take it you're feeling a bit better?”

“My names not Tommy man, where am I?”

The doctor ignored him and took a seat opposite him at the table, pulling a stack of papers out of his briefcase.

“Please save all questions until I have completed the interview.”

Michael grumbled, Not exactly a polite one, now is he? Whatever though, it’s probably best for him to comply. If they wanted him dead he’d already be dead. This place is secure, they could easily do it, it’s best to not give them a reason.

Tapping his papers on the table the scientist began, “What is your full name?”

“Michael Gregory Stevens”

“Species?”

Michael narrowed his eyes, “What?”

“Please answer the question.”

“...human.”

“Good, do you remember the events of the past three days?”

“I was just doing normal stuff, hell I was fixing my satellite before I woke up in this room.”

His face paled in realization, “I did fall off my roof though.”

The doctor looked interested, “Can you give me your address?”

Skeptically Michael told him the information, and for the next hour continued to answer question after question.

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This monotony was finally broken when the speakers crackled to life, “His story checks out, permission granted to disclose information previously granted to SCP 507.”

“The scientist leaned back in his chair, visibly more relaxed.”

Michael turned back to him, “What did all that mean?”

“Ah, that just means you passed through our little lie detector test”, he said with a wink.

“Now Mr. Stevens, I think I understand what happened here. You died falling off your roof, and bonded with that crown on your head. It’s probably some sort of soul storage device, It wouldn’t be the first one we’ve seen. It seems that the original 507 died in another dimension, and got that crown stuck to his head. We tried taking it off, it didn’t work out. That thing is stuck for good.”

“What do you mean by another dimension?”

“Oh, my apologies Mr. Stevens, I haven't told you why you’re here. Our organization secures, contains and protects the world from paranormal entities, your new body and crown being two of them.”

“If the soul storage crown is a new addition, then what was so special about this body?”

“Well every two weeks or so you’ll get sent to a random dimension, and come back somewhere between an hour and 5 days later.”

Michael paused for a moment. He knew the implication of all this, but couldn’t help being a little excited. He’d always been interested in exploring, sadly nowadays you need to be exceptionally gifted at math to be an explorer. Not my cup of tea. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise.

Besides, his past life hadn’t been anything glamorous. He’d simply been going through the motions, and planned to just get a simple desk job once he’d finished college.

But super powers seem like a pretty good trade for that life. Not much he could do about it now anyways. He wasn't one to stress over something he couldn’t change.

“Can I get some examples of these dimensions?”

“Sure, one of them had vegetables that screamed when eaten. It damn near turned Tommy into a vegetarian.”, he chuckled.

“Another one had rats that spoke russian, were bipedal and dressed like humans. I believe they had a war going with a group of similarly unique squirrels.”

“Are these dimensions dangerous?”

“No, well most of them anyways. I’d reckon ninety percent of them just have some weird gimmick.”

“And the other ten percent?”

“Well, that’s why we let you request items to build a prep kit. They’ll have to be pre-approved of course. Tommy had built up quite a bit of trust with us, you’ll have to do the same before we consider giving you any of our more lethal equipment.”

“Also never mention this facility or anything going on here outside of this compound. Everything we are giving you is a privilege, and it can easily be revoked.”

Michael rubbed his beard in thought, “I can do that, just make sure the equipment I ask for is delivered. I don’t want to be killed by something like Nazi spiders just because your organization decides to be stingy.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll leave a pen and paper, just make a list of some essential supplies and I’ll see if I can get them approved.”

The scientist got up and left, once again leaving Michael alone in his new cage/home.