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|| No more plausible deniability, no more guessing, no more pretending. ||

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It was nothing short of a miracle that there hadn't been a single containment breach yet while you were at Site-17. Between the SCPs still coming in from being transferred to the copious number of SCPs that were allowed to roam around, you might have thought a containment breach would have happened by now.

But no. Things were fine.

Getting permission to wander was... alright. You were allowed to eat in the cafeteria, one specifically for SCPs which 073 had shown you. This meant that the foundation didn't have to deliver anything to your containment room and by extension, meant you were responsible for yourself. A very normal thing indeed. At least you were given more food choices compared to before.

Admittedly, you were a little reluctant to be in place with so many people after so long, hence why you ended up sitting in a corner whenever available. Fortunately or unfortunately, 073 typically sat with you when the two of you happened to be in the cafeteria at the same time. Having company was nice, you decided, especially one without the intention of interrogating you.

Even when much of your tentative acquaintance was based on unspoken knowledge.

Unspoken knowledge of how he knew everything about your files, unspoken knowledge of how you knew everything about him, even beyond his files, unspoken knowledge of how you most certainly were far more dangerous than you made yourself out to be. Well, not everyone could be perfect, least of all the two of you.

Despite all the side-stepping to ensure fewer questions between you and 073, you would say that you got along quite well. As the person you spent the most time with outside of your containment cell, it shouldn't have come as a surprise. After all, if you didn't get along, you would have just persistently avoided him.

But, you didn't so that didn't matter.

And so, the first several days you spent at Site-17 were devoid of interviews and deaths. Predictability, the easy, simple routine your life had fallen into wouldn't last. Nothing stayed simple when it came to the universe. Case in point, the day you went to see 408.

It had been after you had eaten lunch with Cain when a doctor had approached.

"[----]?" the doctor had asked, completely ignoring Cain.

You paused, then, you raised your hand. "That's me. Any particular reason you're looking for me?"

"Ah," the doctor avoided looking directly at your eyes. "We want you to go to 408."

You blinked in confusion. "Like, right now?"

The doctor wilted under your gaze but still nodded meekly. "Now is a convenient time. We'd prefer for it to happen now before the opportunity passes."

Your eyes narrowed. Of course it would be impossible for anyone here to actually give straightforward answers. What else would you have expected? You might as well go along for now. You hadn't seen the 408s in a while. You wondered to yourself if the whole group would like you. Maybe.

"Sure." You sighed, moving to get up. "Cain, you don't have to wait for me here. We can continue talking another time."

Cain, being the understanding person he was, kindly agreed. You gave him a small smile before turning to the doctor.

"Well, lead the way."

And off you went to visit the anomalous butterflies.

X.x.X

You and the doctor took a trip to the Heavy Containment Zone, a place you weren't allowed to roam freely. It was a little out of your knowledge given SCP: Unity's unfinished state and once again, not being allowed out of the Light Containment Zone. If it weren't for the fact that there were a whole lot of people around then you would have definitely slipped away to explore. Really, who could have blamed you for your curiosity?

As you walked slowly towards 408's containment chamber, you took in the sight around you. The Heavy Containment Zone in Site-17 was fairly well lit and felt more open than Site-19. However, compared to Light Containment, the halls felt incredibly empty. Understandable. No one would want to hang around a place where potentially dangerous SCPs were contained.

A few people were scattered around the halls, some doctors, D-Class being escorted, but no one lingered for long except for the guards. The doctor who led the way to 408's chamber was quiet and walked quickly. They were probably new or at the very least, hadn't been a part of the foundation for long. It was a little funny, in your opinion.

Mentally, you made note of the layout of the Zone and the few SCP posters you had seen. It might come in handy later.

Soon enough, you reached 408's containment chamber. You followed behind the doctor as they swiped the key card and entered the room. Several researchers and guards were in the room already. The large glass window in front of a control panel revealed the room where the 408s were contained. The window was situated near the top of the containment chamber's ceiling from what you could see.

"He isn't here yet?" the doctor who guided you here asked.

"He's still on lunch break," someone answered, their eyes shifting between you and the doctor. "We can let [----] in first though."

Somehow, you had the premonition that you weren't going to like whatever was going to happen today.

"[----], wait by there." A doctor gestured to a door beside the window. "There's going to be several doors and stairs going down. We'll open them one by one so just go through them when they open."

You gave a thumbs up in response. The first door opened and down you went into the containment chamber. The area was fairly well lit, but rather narrow as you descended down the stairs. Definitely not the greatest place for anyone with claustrophobia. One by one, you went through the doors while they closed behind you. After going through four doors, you reached the bottom of the stairs.

The last door opened up and the entirety of the containment chamber was revealed to you. You had to make something abundantly clear, the room was pretty f*cking big. Various butterfly feeders were spread around the containment cell, some decorated, others plain. From the place you entered, you could see the window where the researchers were across from you.

Ignoring that, you shifted your focus to the 408s. The main swarm (Group? Kaleidoscope? There were too many names for you to really say.) of butterflies were definitely much larger than the 15 or so you encountered during the containment breach. You took a few steps away from the exit.

"408," you said clearly, "how've you been?"

Immediately, the butterflies scattered throughout the room moved towards the center of the room. A few split away from the group and landed on you. Aw, how cute.

"I... DOING... WELL," the main swarm spelled out slowly. "NOT... HURT..."

"Getting fed well too?"

"MOSTLY... RESEARCHERS... ALMOST... LATE... LAST... TIME."

You hummed. "It has been a while since I've last seen you, hasn't it?"

"YES... ALMOST... A... MONTH?"

"That long, huh." Somehow the time seemed both longer and shorter than that. Then, again, you were never particularly good at keeping track. Though, if you counted the time from when you died, it may have added an hour or so.

"YOU... WELL... TOO?"

"Uhhh." You thought back to the things that had happened since the breach. You lived and you died, you lived again, you died again. Some deaths were more horrifying than others, some quick, some less so. Were you well? "Sure."

The swarm shifted, agitated. "IF... YOU... SAY... SO."

You huffed at their response, only faux annoyed. You couldn't believe 408 was sassing you for only kind of lying. How cheeky of them. You could hardly be blamed for situations beyond your control. Ah, that reminded you, what were you doing here?

"Do you know why they called me so urgently here now?" you asked the swarm.

"I... HAVE... IDEA... WHY," they spelled out. "WANT... YOU... TO... MEET..."

Oh, you had a bad feeling about this. As the 408s spelled out the last word, the door to the containment chamber opened. You turned your head. A man, quite tall, wearing a brown hat and a jacket (not a lab coat). In one hand was a camera, connected to a strap around his neck. His eyes were green just like in Portraits of Your Father. Ah. Standing across from you was one (basically) of the four horsemen of the apocalypse himself, Dr. Kondraki.

"KONDRAKI."

Well.

The good news was that you knew for certain he was alive now. No more plausible deniability, no more guessing, no more pretending. Mentally, you retconned the last part. Still pretending, just pretending everything was fine and that meeting people was not going to mess your plans up. This was fine, you were fine or maybe you were going to be fine.

You kind of wished you stayed dead the first time around if only to avoid meeting them.

"Oh. It's you," you found yourself saying before you could really think about it. Great first impression, you were sure.

"Heard of me?" Kondraki replied. The door closed behind him, leaving you trapped with 408 and their favourite person.

You hummed. A few butterflies landed on your head like a crown. "You're rather infamous."

"That so."

"Yup." Great talk, could you leave yet?

"So," you prompted, "what are you doing here?"

Kondraki shrugged and stepped away from the door. "I was curious who caught 408's attention."

"Makes sense seeing as how you are the King of the Butterflies." Wait no, the "official" title was different. "Or booooterflies, I suppose."

Provoking him was probably not the best idea you could have come across but let it be said that you were never one for good ideas. You could see how he shifted, turning a little more alert at your words. You. A threat. Back home, you would have never been seen as such.

'That's right,' your words taunted, 'I've seen your personnel file.'

Just what was the extent that you knew?

"408 probably just likes me because I gave them food during the breach," you said after a moment of silence. "How did they end up all the way at Site-19 anyway if they're contained here?"

"I was visiting Site-19, a few of them must have slipped away while I was there." He fiddled with his camera. You mulled over his answer. 408 was known to be mischievous when hungry so it made enough sense.

"M'kay," you agreed. "Why'd you agree to see me?"

The doctor gave you a look. "What if I came here of my own volition?"

"Please, you're not exactly known to be social, you know."

He mockingly rolled his eyes and said, "So you know all about me. What are you, a pretend god who lost their powers or something?"

"Hilarious," you drawled. "I've already told them I'm not omnipotent. I know possibilities, potential events, possible outcomes. There are always things that will remain the same, some things that shift and change. It just depends on which choice is your favourite."

"So you're telling me you don't have blackmail."

"Quite the opposite, I think I have too much blackmail. Most of it is, ah, more likely to be emotionally scarring or bring up trauma than cause embarrassment though. Some other things can't really be used as blackmail because they've never happened." Absentmindedly, you added, "Things like bottle d*ck."

"Like what?" Kondraki looked at you incredulously.

You hummed noncommittally. Well, it was kind of nice to know that hadn't happened (yet) in this universe maybe? It was definitely lower on things that might have happened but at least you could cross it off the list now. "Don't worry too much about it. You'll just drive yourself into the ground if you do."

"You're talking to the wrong person and you're at the wrong place if you think no one will overthink things."

"Right right, mister paranoid about everything."

408, who had been relatively quiet since Kondraki arrived, shifted and began to rearrange themselves to say something.

"YOU... KONDRAKI... GETTING... ALONG?"

"Uh... kind of?" You weren't really sure what constituted as "getting along" in this context. "408, I really don't know what counts as getting along in this situation."

"They're okay, at best," Kondraki said right after.

"I was expecting more murder actually."

"I was thinking about it on the way here."

"Oh really?" you still answered despite knowing it sounded more like a joke.

"YOU... WOULD... HAVE... BEEN... FINE."

"From your point of view, maybe," you retorted.

"Just because I didn't kill you, doesn't mean other people won't. Like that bastard Clef."

You chuckled. That would be another can of worms you didn't want to open quite yet. "I'll be looking forward to it then."

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New SCPs in this chapter:

N/A

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Published: February 28, 2022

Word count: 2,146

Death Counter: 12

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I got sick (not Covid, probably just stress) last week lol but I also managed to write like a quarter of the chapter in one day just before that. I'm feeling better now so no worries. Thanks for reading!