A night and half a day had passed slowly. Foundation Sites were largely self-contained and self-sustaining communities, and tight knit within themselves. Gossip spread fast when you only saw mostly the same faces every day for weeks, months, and years on end. Just the night before, a large convoy had arrived and processed in nearly a dozen anomalies. Then, about half among them had been invited to a secret meeting with the Site Director before being sent off to their containment chambers. It invited speculation from all ranks on the site, with the exception of the Class D, who were never privy to any information.

The staff and researchers frequently had one reaction, hushed suspicion. The Site Director was fairly transparent in her goal to reanimate MTF Omega-7 and transform it into Alpha-9. The issue was that very few would see her eye to eye on the issue. Like Chernobyl, it merely seemed like a disaster waiting to blow up in everyone's faces. Anomalies weren't tools, they were objects to be contained, and yet the Director insisted on using them for her own devices. The natural cynicism and paranoia of Foundation personnel made hasty accusations and assumptions common, regardless of reality.

It didn't help that most of the anomalies she had requisitioned for her new MTF carried some form of baggage with them. They all had their fair share of issues which should make it nigh impossible for a cohesive and effective team to form, and yet square pegs were being shoved in round holes.

SCP-105 was the object of most of the apprehension, though she tried not to let it show how much she noticed. The only survivor of the original team, she certainly was left with more mental scars than physical when Able, one of her friends, slew the rest of her friends. The closest thing to her family was killed by internal strife. It didn't help that apparently they were putting Cain, who had an obvious familial relationship with Able even if he never confirmed it, on the same team. Iris was being forced to seize the reigns and rebuild the ruins of her old family with a set of strangers, it would be hard to blame her for apprehension.

SCP-2800 was among the larger jokes on the team. A Scot who could grow cactus spines and talk to saguaros. It almost seemed like the setup for a bad joke. He envisioned himself as a comic book style superhero, and it didn't help that he treated legal paperwork like autographs and had a habit of referring to himself in the third person by his superhero name, "Cactusman, the Spiked Menace".

If the Scottish superhero wasn't bad enough, the team needed a hand too. Like, a literal severed human hand. SCP- 2913 was the result of some weirdo's conscience deciding to amputate itself from the rest of his sociopathy and now The Foundation's stuck with a walking hand, skittering around. It talked like a muppet, moving its fingers to mimic the mouth. It wasn't even a clean cut, the bones from the hand poked out of the back end. Most believed it couldn't hear the jokes about being a member of the Addams family owing to its lack of ears, but they would be mistaken.

Of all the ones expected to "snap" and take on the legacy of Able from the original team, it would be SCP-2273. The poor bastard was blasted to kingdom come in an alternative reality's version of one of the Occult Wars, and instead of dying like a good soldier he wound up in this reality. He'd been making strides by speaking with a counselor, but many subscribed to the notion that you can't teach an old dog new tricks. It was difficult to contain anomalies but impossible to break the conditioning of a seasoned veteran.

There were a few others on board the team, a new find and a brain in a tank, nothing that most thought anything special of. Just more random sparks to risk a fire. The only members of the team that inspired any confidence at all were SCP-073 and the leader of the group, Kain Pathos Crow. Cain, the anomaly, had a long track record of aiding the Foundation and was actually used as one of the database's failsafes in the event of digital destruction due to his loyalty, photographic memory, and indestructible condition. It was a good thing that he was not very offensively oriented, elsewise the Foundation might actually have a problem with him. Crow, on the other hand, while suffering from an anomalous condition, was actually a researcher, highly decorated too. He was seen more or less as a compatriot with a crutch as opposed to another SCP. It led to pity and isolation, as he often found himself passed over for assignments.

The only thing uniform across the group was that they were all seen as flawed and dangerous. They were most certainly the last thing that an organization that was supposed to be dedicated to the suppression of the anomalous should be messing with.

A group of anomalous individuals separate from the rest of the cafeteria was seated at the far end of the room. A dog wearing a foundation researcher uniform was sitting at the head of the table with two cases next to it. The group had sat down only a few minutes before, and very little had been done thus far. A slightly gruff yet somewhat high pitched voice was trying to get the group to open up.

"Come on guys, you gotta work with me here. We're not even actually doing anything yet. These are just icebreaker questions."

A distinctly Russian voice answered, "And why should I listen to a dog in a suit?"

"That's mean, Alexei, and it's not like you're much better, you're in an insect suit."

"This suit has saved my life many times, and I wanted those times to be the last."

"What?"

"Go to Hell."

A third voice cut in quickly, "Ok, ok now. We can calm down now. We don't have any reason to be hostile right now. The sooner we all just answer a few questions, the sooner we can pack up and move onto more fun activities."

Cain had butted in to head off the argument between 2273 and Crow.

"Let's just start over, we can go around and just give our names. I'll begin, alright? My name is Cain. I've got a good memory and can't be injured. Crow, why don't you go next?"

"Alright, sorry about that. Didn't get much sleep last night, moving around and I'm just excited to take this new assignment. My name's Kain Pathos Crow, just call me Crow to avoid confusion with him. I was originally a bog-standard researcher here at the Foundation, with a few exploits to my name, until a few years ago when I suffered an anomalous transformation resulting in my current canine form. I'm still employed her, and I'll act like the team liaison with the rest of the Foundation. I'm sort of like your boss, but I assure you I'll try not to be controlling. Would you like to go next, miss?"

With an eye roll, SCP-105 began her introduction. "My name's Iris. I was on the previous anomaly MTF, Omega-7. I can manipulate the environment using the Camera that Crow has locked in that briefcase there."

With a slight release of breath as though exhausted, she turned over to the hand sitting in the chair next to her.

"You want to go next?"

The hand hopped up on the table from its highchair that allowed it to see over the edge with everyone else. "Well, hi you guys! It's so nice to meet you all! My designation number is 2-9-1-3, but you can just call me Han! Get it? I'm a friendly little guy, and I'll always be glad to give you a hand!"

The large man in insect-like armor next to the hand, the same one who had been at odds with Crow just a moment before, spoke with swift sincerity, "My name is Alexei Belitrov. I was soldier once. I see I am to be a soldier again. I apologize doctor, such a reaction was below me."

The next one to speak had a slight Scottish accent in his voice, and was full of bravado, "Hello all. My name is Cactusman, the Spiked Menace! It used to be Daniel, but I'd prefer if you didn't use that. I can, uh, see the looks you all are giving me. I assure you, I'm not a nutter. I've just always wanted to be something of a hero, and with the abilities I was granted and the opportunity to be on this team, I finally have that chance. I can last a long time without water, grow saguaro spines, and, er, speak to cacti."

With him finishing his speech, all eyes turned towards the Vessel. They weren't quite sure what to say. They could probably introduce their number that the researchers had referred to them by. They had also introduced themselves as a vessel to Mr. Laugh. All in all, they had forgotten they were actually a part of this meeting. They had just been silently turning over the introductions to each of these new figures in their head. Now, the spotlight was on them, and they weren't sure how to react. Luckily, the onus was taken from them as Cain began to speak.

"Oh, they're one of the recently captured ones. I got their updated file only recently, they're mute. Go on, you can take your time to write with us."

Some eyes in the group showed skepticism, some showed intrigue, but every pair was turned upon them. Taking the opportunity, they began to scrawl out with the full attention of the crowd around them. They hoped this wouldn't be a common occurrence, they much preferred others taking the lead in conversation, both back in Hallownest and in this foundation.

"hello. i am 8546. can call self vessel. can fight well. nice to meet group."

Crow spoke up after the Vessel had finished writing and turned their whiteboard to show the rest of the MTF. "Alright, thank you all for sharing a little about yourselves. There's actually one more member of this group, but he can't make it. His name is Jeremy Valdez, and due to his condition it's very difficult to move him around. He will primarily work to analyze any anomalous tech you may recover and additionally provide tools that may prove useful in anomalous exploration, recovery, and combat."

As Cain spoke, Iris and Alexei began to detach themselves mentally from the conversation, staring off into the middle distance or crowds milling around in other parts of the room. Cactusman and Han gave their full undivided attention with interest. The Vessel certainly wanted to do other things, but perhaps this group could give them the chance to explore further territory. They were especially interested in the exploration part of the explanation about a missing team member. But, they had also never been a part of a team before, not for more than a brief period. They had fought alongside Quirrel in the archives, and were working with Hornet. But those times were different, the Infection was not present here. So far, the group seemed interesting, to say the least.

An overexcited voice roused the Vessel from their thoughts, "Anomalous combat? Does that mean we're going to be fighting bad guys and monsters and stuff?"

"Well, you might on occasion see combat Daniel-"

"Cactusman, the Spiked Menace."

"Pardon. How about just Cactusman for brevity?"

"That's alright, I guess."

"Alright, my apologies. Now, you might see combat. But typically, this MTF will be used to respond to anomalous situations. What that means, I can't say right now. But if there's a bizarre building, or a park out of place, you'll be sent in. That could include places that house anomalous groups, which could include hostiles, which could include monsters, yes. In such a scenario, you might get to fight. But, you'll mostly be a support role in combat."

"Aw, what? What do you mean?"

Cain stepped in with a soft voice.

"Cactusman, this isn't just a group of brawlers to be thrown at problems. Due to my work with the Foundation, I've had access to these plans since near their inception. It was only just approved recently once they found a candidate they believed could reliably combat anything short of a reality bender. You all fill different niches in the team."

Cactusman responded, "Wait, then who is the fighter?"

Pointing at the vessel, Cain explained "Them. They're apparently very tough and adept with a blade."

"But they're tiny? Are they a child?"

"We turned down several proposals for child soldiers, actually. It would be a bad look. Although, how old are you, exactly?"

With half the attention back on them, they thought about the question. Their body had only just barely passed the grub stage, but that wasn't really their fault. They had been stuck in the Abyss for who knows how long. They knew that eventually they would be much larger, they had seen the statues of The Hollow Knight. But, they didn't know old they were specifically.

"do not know. body is young but am not young. have not molt often yet."

Crow and Cain both raised one of the furry bars above their eyes at the statement. Cactusman voiced his confusion where the others held their tongues, "Well what does that mean? I mean, I get not knowing your age. But how can you be older than your body? That doesn't really, uh, add up."

"am not. body is in young stage."

"Do you, like, change forms or evolve or something?"

The Vessel turned their whole head to give a look at him. He seemed dense enough to be used as a club. Did they really need to explain how babies were hatched, grew up with nutrients, and then moved on through life cycles? Well, they had an idea of what they would look like when bigger, they could show him that.

Cain, Crow, and Han stared with interest as Vessel began to draw a picture for Cactusman. They had a remarkably steady grasp and drew smoothly with great deal. The pace was slow but they did not make mistakes, the lines from the sharpie came out where they wanted on the first try. After a few minutes, they had traced and detailed a small, stylized picture. It was a remarkably close match to themselves. Vessel lifted the drawing to Cactusman. They directed at the picture, and then themselves very pointedly.

Then, they began to draw again. This drew Crow's attention quickly. He had figured out what Vessel meant early on, he had studied entomology once in relation to a few anomalies before and realized that they were trying to communicate that they were stuck in an early stage of their life cycle. Crow presumed for a lack of nutrients but had no further information to go on. Now they were seemingly preparing to divulge what they would theoretically grow into. Considering how the Foundation would keep them for the rest of their natural life, being kept healthy in containment might allow them to grow, which would almost certainly present containment challenges in the future. As they continued, the first thing they noticed was that the new drawing was larger. Much larger. It was nearly five times taller, far lankier, and they drew it with a blade nearly two thirds their length.

With a nervous edge in his voice that only the most astute could pick up, Crow asked, "So, I take it that's what you'll look like in some time?"

Vessel erased the picture, not caring for Cactusman staring with gears turning creakily in his head at the vanishing image. "likely. picture of sibling."

Crow had read the interview logs for all potential members of the MTF, 8546's included. This was the first time a sibling was mentioned. Once, they had said that there was another alive who was not in the Everglades. The researchers assigned to them had figured that that meant they were not present on Earth, but a note was made just in case. Crow deliberated on the best choice of action here, and decided to allow others to speak. He would ask only one more question, but pass on anything that caught his attention to the 8546 researchers. He would not press this first meeting into an interview.

"So, that's your sibling? They're certainly a lot taller. How are they?"

Vessel appeared to deflate, sulking somewhat. It was remarkable how expressive they were given that their face lacked many features and was largely immobile. This was clearly a touchy subject for them.

"stuck in pain eternal sacrifice. never met. was going to."

The meeting was supposed to be a light-hearted ice breaker discussion, and now it was awkward and heavy. Han had been silently sitting just off to the side, not entirely sure where to jump in. Well, now that everyone was just sitting and cringing at both the silence and the line of questions they had gone down, he had a chance.

"Well now, that's fun! Mr. Crow! Didn't you mention we had another teammate who couldn't make it?"

Han's out relieved Crow immensely. He didn't want to start everyone off on the wrong foot, and Han's joking personality would certainly help lighten the mood.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Crow explained, "Yes, I had mentioned him. A certain fellow by the name of Jeremy Valdez."

"What's so special about him?"

"Ah, he is rather unique. He is… well for lack of a better description, quite literally a brain in a jar. We don't know how he came to be, but he is a brain suspended in a jar with fluid, with anomalous technological structures acting as limbs and other parts of his body. He's like several interconnected machines all run by a human brain. This makes it hard for us to move him, he's a bit stuck."

"Well he sounds like he's rather pickled."

A few snorts came from around the table at the pun. Cain leaned over to Crow and whispered something into his ear. Nodding his head he began to speak, "Considering the situation for Mr. Valdez, I should probably mention some other difficulties for this team. As Cain has mentioned to me, I should note that he will not be appearing in field missions with you."

Iris returned to the conversation at that remark. Her eyes shifted quickly between Cain and Crow. Crow continued to speak, "Cain has a, thing, about committing violent acts. He can't. Additionally, he has obligations to other sections of the Foundation. I can't speak on most of them, but just know that he will be available only a minority of the time."

Cain butted in quickly, "I'm still a part of the team, though, guys. Even if Crow is making me seem like dead weight. I'll be in command providing background information from the database and analysis against previous information as required or requested. That, and an additional person to speak to never hurt anybody."

In spite of the open invitation for others to speak, the ice wasn't broken. Everyone sat in idle, awkward silence. Half the party was checked out, the other half was completely uncertain of how to continue the conversation. Crow crinkled his snout, a holdover from when he bit his lip as a human. After a moment's contemplation, he decided that future meetings could be held. They merely needed more time to get to know each other.

Crow wrapped up the group session, "Well, that's all for today I suppose. We can meet up in the future. We don't need to lay out our whole life stories in one conversation. You are all dismissed. We can meet up sometime later this week, I'll make sure you all know a ways in advance."

The group began to exit the cafeteria. No words were being passed between them as they traversed the room. They were only together in location as they traveled to the containment chambers, which were all in the same location. Cactusman and Han were having a muted conversation as Han rode on the larger one's shoulder. Eventually, after a look of contemplation passed between them, Cactusman jogged briskly forward to the front of the group to match Crow.

With a question, Cactusman asked, "Hey, we were wondering about something. When exactly do you think our first mission will be? I'm itching to go out and do something!"

Crow sighed, looking up from near the floor as he trotted along, "Well, you'll likely be deployed on low priority and low risk missions for a while. Getting this MTF together took a lot of string pulling and some of the higherups within the Foundation are still very unsure of the viability of such a team."

He passed a glance back to Iris who was staring daggers at him.

He continued, "Err. Well, it'll still likely be a while. We need something to prove ourselves to the rest of the foundation, and it's uncertain when such an opportunity might present itself."

He had waited in the brush, hiding his massive and distended form for a great stretch of time. Though an academic, he knew much of the ways of the hunt. It was expected of those of Noble birth to know of all ways of life, though this was different from the tract of land his family had stocked and tended to for private refuge. He had waited until the cycle of the bright disk in the sky had led to the dimming of twilight. Clouds twisted rays of light as anvil clouds made their way towards the land from the sea. The world was painted in hues of orange, pink, and soon dark purples. Those strange beings cycled their guard around the building numerous times.

As he observed them, his curiosity was piqued. His rage had cooled as he waited in the shrubbery. Perhaps the lower life of this locale was soulless and unworthy of existence, but these beings could create structures, bore tools and clothing, and had some form of social structure if their movements around the building were to be analyzed. They simply must hold soul. There was no other way that they could have an advanced society. It was simply not feasible any other way, it was required for anything worth living to continue to exist. But, he was skeptical. He had found none in the creatures around him no matter how much he shredded their bodies. Surely, whatever noble ran the fortress wouldn't mind if he took a lowly guard or two. And if they did, then he would deal with them and move on with his studies.

As the sky turned to a dark pitch, the air became heavy with moisture. A drizzle began to come down, obscuring the far fences around the foundation site in a haze. The guards had been out for an hour and a half, not long until the shift changed over, and they could take a quick break before being cycled to another portion of the site. The rain gave a break from the heat, and the sound of it rolling over the asphalt and off roofs was a soothing drone. A soothing drone that obscured the sound of fencing being shredded a few hundred yards away.

Two guards stood posted outside the main doors to the facility. Cigarettes had been extinguished by the weather not long ago. They spoke idly about anything and nothing to pass the time. Long hours had addled their attention, and soon they could kick up their feet for just a moment. A few dozen meters ahead at a lifting gate their buddies were manning the vehicle checkpoint. Soon, they could get a game of poker in. As they spoke, a muffled noise came over the rain drawing their attention towards the gate. They could see indeterminate masses shifting around, but the gate had not lifted to allow any cars or trucks through.

A low guttural sound, like a roar being filtered through vibrating paper, shook the ground around them and was followed by two sharp cries of anguish. Both guards pulled their rifles up and began to advance.

One called into the walkie-talkie strapped to her chest, "We've got a situation at the front gate, sector A. Have facility security standby, prepare for lockdown procedures."

Low crying continued as they approached until a wet crunch was heard, and an object was thrown from behind the booth that controlled the gate. An elongated mass fell at their feet as they temporarily stopped their march forwards. The rain picked up, red water running away from the object to their feet. It was a human arm, entirely torn from the body. A flash of lightning illuminated the area, and as they looked up in the brief moment of visibility, an enormous and bulging body glowered down upon them, fury practically radiating onto them.

Their eyes widened as they took several steps back and began to open fire, orbs of white energy congealing around the entity, orbiting with great speed. Bullets grazed by and through the entity. Pain moved over his face, but it seemed to take more offense than anguish at being ripped through by bullets. Ethereal energy flowed through the wounds as it continued to advance menacingly towards the pair of guards.

The guard who called in the original notice pulled her walkie-talkie back up and practically shouted into it over the rain and gunfire, "Lockdown the facility! We have a hostile insectoid entity at the Sector A Front Gate, two are MIA presumed killed. It appears to be using directed energy attacks, be advised we may have a reality bender! Repeat, a reality bender!"

She began to repeat the notice into the communicator as red lights began to wash the area in an evil glow. The entity's gaze traced from the two small beings firing those petty metal projectiles at him to the now flashing lights and the loud metal contraptions blaring an emergency tone. A huff escaped him. He pulled together several balls of energy and flung them at the one on the right, the one calling some form of warning into their shoulder. They shrieked and stopped firing immediately as their life force was burned away into a charred husk. The other looked at the corpse horrified and tried to fire again, finding their metal device clicking uselessly at them. In an instant the weapon was discarded, and a blade was drawn. They lunged at him, and he reacted accordingly, now several times their height in the air above them, a small trail of energy leading the eyes of the armed guard up to him. With the force of his propulsion and gravity he combined he crashed down upon the guard, leaving only pieces in a shower of viscera.

His gaze moved up towards the building, those red lights still flashing and those terrible alarms still braying. He saw a set of glass doors and movement behind them, as enormous sheets of metal grinded slowly over to cover them. Realizing that they would not even face him, preferring to hide like cowardly maggots behind fortifications, his rage reached new heights. They dared to besmirch him with pathetic attempts on his life? They dared to do as such and then hide? They dared to live miserable lives on without soul? They dared all that, and they would suffer wrath for it.

He rematerialized himself a ways in front of the door, and propelled himself with all the strength he could muster at them. He twisted metal, crushed stone, and shattered glass beneath his tremendous force. A shower of rubble caved in a section of the building. Like scurrying vermin beings ran down the halls while more armed guards flung that same futile metal at him. Eyes narrowing, he resolved to burn away the filth that plagued the world in front of him.

Crow had been answering a few minors questions from Han and Cactusman about the methods of the newly formed MTF when the pager strapped around his neck beeped. The site had been placed on notice. Information was still filing in, but something had disturbed security near the front of the facility.

He called to those around him, "Hey, guys. Stick with me. We might have a situation."

A few murmurs passed around as they were confused by his proclamation. The Vessel crowded close to him. When Crow wasn't in a chair and was walking around on all four paws, he was close in height to the Vessel. They were rapidly thinking through all the possibilities that a "situation" could entail that required their attention.

"Dog, why can you not gather more information?"

"My pager is one way, Alexei, I don't have opposable thumbs."

"You should have considered that when-"

A beep emanated from the pager and a report from a perimeter guard hurriedly began to filter through, albeit pocked by static. Not long after, the site intercom announced that the facility was under assault and all personnel and anomalies were to report to their designated zones, effective immediately.

Loudly with authority, Crow commanded "You all are with me. We're going to combat this threat. Sector A entrance is that way, move out!"

The group ran double file towards the entrance of the facility, with the Vessel firmly in the middle of the crowd.