In the dim confines of Kamar-Taj, Wong stood patiently across from America Chavez, who was sparring with shimmering portals as she practiced controlling her ability to move through dimensions. Doctor Stephen Strange watched closely, impressed by how quickly she was mastering her powers.

"Alright, America," Strange said. "Imagine the place you want to go and focus. But don't fixate on a specific place—more like an impression of a world, an energy that speaks to you."

America nodded, taking a steadying breath, and focused her gaze on the swirling portal she was about to create. She extended a hand, fingers splayed, feeling for the multiversal energies that pulsed just beyond the fabric of reality.

But as the portal began to materialize, something felt wrong. Strange and Wong both sensed it—a strange, hollow pull at the edges of their senses. They'd stepped back, wary, but before any of them could react, the portal flickered and pulled them forward, dragging them into its shimmering depths.

The next thing they knew, the three of them stood in an endless, otherworldly desert.

A heavy silence settled around them as they took in their surroundings. The air felt dry and slightly warm, and a strange glow illuminated the horizon. It was not Earth, nor any dimension they recognized, but the emptiness of the place felt oppressive.

"Where…are we?" Wong asked, scanning the vast plain that stretched out before them.

The landscape was strange and alien, punctuated by the ruins of structures from vastly different times and places. Just a short distance away, they could make out the crumbling columns of what looked like ancient Roman architecture, beside the skeletal remains of what might once have been a skyscraper.

Strange, disoriented but intrigued, squinted at their surroundings. "This feels…off," he muttered, mostly to himself. "A desert, yes, but not any desert I've ever encountered."

America shook her head, looking at the ruins scattered around them. "It's like a graveyard for entire civilizations."

Strange held up a hand. "Stay close. This place could be dangerous. I don't recognize it, but the energy here—it's thin, faded, like a forgotten world."

As they moved cautiously forward, they noticed movement out of the corner of their eyes—shadows shifting along the ruins. A group of humanoid figures, hollow-eyed and shuffling slowly, circled an abandoned structure nearby. Strange's eyes narrowed as he recognized the subtle wrongness in their movements.

"Are those…people?" America asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Wong, grim-faced, shook his head. "Not exactly. They look human, but something's missing. There's no…purpose to them."

Strange took a careful step toward the figures, studying them from a safe distance. The beings seemed oblivious to their presence, continuing to move in slow, aimless circles. Closer inspection revealed they were dressed in strange assortments of clothing, from modern garb to what appeared to be ancient, tattered robes. Their eyes were empty, devoid of awareness, and they wandered as though lost, their footsteps tracing endless loops around the structure.

"This is more than just a forgotten place," Strange murmured. "It's a realm of lost souls."

"Or lost memories," Wong added quietly. "A place where things come when they're no longer remembered."

Strange frowned. He could feel it too—a sense of something missing, as though the very fabric of the world had gaps in its memory. "Who would even build a place like this? It's like an…abandoned idea."

Just then, they heard a faint, hollow voice carried on the wind. "Hello? Is someone…out there?"

The trio turned toward the sound, spotting a figure waving from a rocky outcrop nearby. A woman, dusty and haggard, stumbled toward them. She wore the remnants of what looked like a lab coat, and her face was creased with both relief and suspicion.

"Are you real?" she asked breathlessly as she approached. "Please—tell me you're real."

Strange stepped forward. "We're real. Doctor Stephen Strange. Who are you?"

The woman let out a trembling laugh. "Dr. Elizabeth Graham. I… I was with the Foundation. I was… transported here somehow. I don't know how long it's been. Maybe days. Maybe longer."

Wong's eyes widened. "The Foundation? Are you with… the SCP Foundation?"

Dr. Graham nodded, glancing warily at the ghostly figures that continued to wander in endless loops around the ruins. "This place is… SCP-3890. We call it 'Forget-Me-Not.' I don't know what it is exactly, but it's… timeless, empty, like a landfill for the forgotten."

Strange tilted his head. "So, you were… left here? Abandoned?"

"Not by choice," she replied, her voice hollow. "I was transporting documents, and suddenly, I was here. No explanation, no sense of time, no need for food or water. Just… this endless desert and them." She gestured to the aimless figures.

America, unnerved, looked from the doctor to the wandering entities. "What are they?"

Graham's face darkened. "We think they're people who were brought here—who somehow ended up in SCP-3890 like me. They've lost something—maybe their minds, maybe their memories. They just wander. They don't react, they don't defend themselves. They're empty."

Strange glanced at Wong, and they shared a concerned look. This realm was more sinister than it seemed, a place that siphoned away purpose, agency, even memory.

"Is there any way out?" Wong asked, glancing around at the ruins.

Dr. Graham shook her head. "I haven't found one. I've tried to retrace my steps, to find some doorway or portal back. But this place… it's like a maze. Every time I think I've reached the edge, I end up somewhere else, always circling back."

Strange's eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. "America, you opened the portal that brought us here. Can you sense anything that might lead us back?"

America closed her eyes, reaching out with her powers, but she felt nothing—no connection to the multiverse, no threads of energy. It was as though SCP-3890 was cut off from everything else, floating in an endless sea of oblivion.

"I don't… I don't feel anything," she said, troubled. "It's like the universe just forgot this place exists."

Strange clenched his fists, thinking. "Then we need to force a connection." He held up his hands, weaving mystic symbols into the air as he tried to pry open the fabric of reality. But the energy felt sluggish, distorted, as though SCP-3890 resisted any attempt to remember its place in the cosmos.

Dr. Graham watched, her expression fading from hope to quiet despair. "You can try, but… this place doesn't let go easily. I've seen people vanish, people who've tried to leave. They're just… gone, as if they'd never existed."

The thought sent a shiver through the trio. Wong looked grimly determined. "We don't leave people behind, Doctor. We're going to find a way out."

America gripped Strange's arm, her voice steady. "Then let's get out of here before we forget why we came."

With a shared nod, they channeled their powers together, Strange and Wong working in tandem while America focused on recalling the sense of home, of belonging. The energies clashed and flared in the empty air, casting a bright glow across the sand.

And then, with a sudden jolt, the portal snapped open, spilling them back into the familiar light of Kamar-Taj. Dr. Graham stumbled out beside them, eyes wide, clutching the solid ground as though she feared it would vanish.

They had escaped SCP-3890, but as they looked back at the closing portal, Strange felt a lingering sense of dread. The forgotten realm of SCP-3890 was still out there, a place lost to memory, a prison for those who wandered into its sands.

And as it faded from sight, he wondered how many others would be left behind, forgotten in the endless desert.