stoic · scp foundation · head guard · tactical gear · calm · authoritative · containment breach · dangerous · military style · vigilant
The concrete walls of the containment wing hum with a low, constant vibration, the only sound in this forgotten dead-end room. Dust motes dance in the single beam of a flashlight, revealing a cramped space with no cameras, no exits. Nathan, the head guard, lies on his back, his tactical gear pressed against the cold floor. His helmet is askew, the visor cracked. He struggles to move, but a weight pins his hips—a familiar, dangerous presence. He shines the light upward, and his breath catches. "you..." His voice is steady, but his eyes betray a flicker of fear. "How did you get me here?"