Vee paced back and forth in her small room, her thoughts racing. Her kin and her sisters…were quiet. Some of her kind ventured to Earth to find new life. Though, they were not connected much as humans have things like Surveillance, Satellites and the Web so using social media without being absolutely sure was out of the question, even still they had their hidden network to warn each other at least once in a two weeks updating with each other, this time it has been a month.

Turns out, human media has overdramatized the whole 'Secret identity' thing and Spanish and Turkish Melodrama fluff is not a good source of learning about human behavior because the moment Vee revealed what she really is to Masha, she had the ... opposite reaction. And learning that Vee was a shapeshifter seemed to make her get some…ideas. Vee was pretty sure Succubuses are real as if the Internet has not proven by now.

Not to mention when she tried revealing her true identity to Masha's friends embarrassingly they already suspected, though at least they found it cool and didn't look at her with flustered eyes like Masha. Not that she has anything to protest about….

"Ugh, I'm such a mess," Vee muttered to herself, running a hand through her hair. "What if they're in trouble? What if—"

Just then, there was a knock at the door, and Vee's heart skipped a beat. "Come in!" she called, trying to sound casual.

The door swung open, and Masha stepped in, her presence instantly brightening the room. "Hey! I thought I'd find you here," she said, leaning against the doorframe with a playful smirk. "Still worrying about your sisters?"

Vee crossed her arms, trying to maintain her composure. "It's been a month, Masha. What if something happened to them? What if they're—"

Masha stepped closer, her expression softening. "Hey, they're tough, just like you. And besides, you've got me here, right?" She leaned in a bit, lowering her voice. "I'm not going anywhere."

Vee felt her cheeks heat up. "Yeah, well… I guess I'm just not used to all this. The whole shapeshifting thing. I thought it would freak you out."

"Freak me out? Please," Masha laughed lightly, her eyes sparkling. "You're like a walking mystery. I mean, who wouldn't be curious about a shapeshifter? You must have some wild stories."

Vee couldn't help but smile at the compliment, her worries momentarily forgotten. "Well, I do have a few tricks up my sleeve… or skin, I guess."

Masha raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin spreading across her face. "Oh? Is that a challenge? Because I've got some ideas about how to put that shapeshifting to good use."

Vee's heart raced at the implication, and she bit her lip, trying to hide her excitement. "Ideas, huh? Like what?"

"Maybe a little shapeshifting game? You could be a cat, and I could be your human sidekick," Masha suggested, her tone playful yet suggestive.

"Or I could be a dragon," Vee shot back, her confidence growing. "And you could be my brave knight."

Masha laughed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I like the sound of that. Just promise you won't eat me when you shift."

"Only if you promise not to scream," Vee teased, feeling the tension between them shift into something lighter, something full of possibility.

As they exchanged playful banter, Vee felt a sense of relief wash over her. Maybe she didn't have to carry the weight of her worries alone. With Masha by her side, she could face whatever came next—whether it was her kin's silence or the complexities of her newfound identity.

Too bad she was not ready for what's to come, at all.

Camila stood in the small hut, her eyes locked onto the door leading to the Boiling Isles. It flickered erratically, appearing to weave in and out of existence, each shimmer sending an unsettling jolt through her. The sight was enough to make her heart race, but the memories that accompanied it only deepened her dread.

"What is happening?" she whispered, struggling to quell the rising anxiety in her chest. The fear of losing Luz again rushed back like a tide, overwhelming her. She still recalled the sheer despair she felt when she first learned her daughter was lost to another realm; it had been a rollercoaster of emotions that turned her world upside down. To think that this door might betray them, to think it could separate them once more—it was unbearable.

Vee had urged her not to approach it, citing unpredictable dangers lurking beyond. But how could she ignore the door's unsettling behavior? Every flicker felt like a warning, a reminder of the fragility of the connections they held dear. The fear gnawed at her resolve: What if this doorway broke open, could they pull Luz back, or would it trap her in a place they could never reach?

"What if it fails? What if I can't save her if it opens?" Camila thought, the panic swirling within her like a storm. Vee's reassurance echoed in her mind, but it did little to quell the rising tide of anguish. The very notion that she might be powerless to stop the door from unleashing a reality where Luz could be lost to her forever sent a fresh wave of anxiety crashing over her.

Clenching her fists, she turned away briefly, trying to breathe through the escalating dread. Memories of the last time Luz had been taken from her—a time filled with darkness and uncertainty—flooded her thoughts. "It's just a doorway," she reminded herself, attempting to cling to logic. But in her heart, she knew that this doorway was anything but ordinary. It held the potential of chasms between their worlds.

"Please, not again," she murmured, tears prickling behind her eyes. The idea that she could be robbed of her daughter once more felt like a consuming nightmare, one that threatened to pull her under.

The door shimmered, its strange energy almost mocking her growing fears. What if it swallowed Luz whole? The terrifying thought tightened Camila's throat, making it hard to breathe. The last thing she wanted was to feel that same helplessness again, to stand by while her daughter was swept away into the unknown.

"Just breathe," she whispered, forcing herself to focus on her breathing. "Luz is strong. She'll find a way." But even as she tried to comfort herself with those words, doubt lingered. What if she couldn't protect her? What if waiting too long meant losing Luz forever?

With a shaky breath, she placed her hand on the cool surface of the door, willing it to stabilize, to calm. "I won't let fear control me," she thought fiercely, even as the uncertainty loomed large in her mind. She needed to stay strong for Luz; she couldn't allow herself to succumb to panic.

But deep down, a sense of inevitability stung at her. Camila knew the door's behavior had to be addressed—whether now or later. Each moment without understanding was a weight pressing down on her heart, a reminder of how close she had come to losing her daughter. She took a step back, resolving to consider her next move carefully. In her heart, though, she feared that the door might someday demand a choice—a choice she was terrified she might not be able to make.

Knock knock

Camila was still lost in her turbulent thoughts when a sharp knock echoed through the hut. She tore her gaze away from the flickering door, realizing she had briefly forgotten about her surroundings. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she moved to the door, her anxiety momentarily overshadowed by curiosity.

When she opened it, two figures stood before her, framed in the light of the day.

A blonde woman, striking in her professionalism, stood with arms crossed. Her cold, calculating eyes bore into Camila, giving off an immediate sense of aloofness that made Camila uneasy. Everything about this woman screamed that she did not come to crack jokes or play games.

Beside her was a man with a cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes. He had messy blonde hair and unsettling heterochromia—one eye a sharp blue, the other a deep green. There was an indescribable, disquieting aura about him, suggesting he was something like a cat toying with its prey. The twisted grin he wore only heightened that impression, making Camila instinctively take a step back.

"We're from the Durant Bodfel Financial Group," the woman said flatly, her tone clipped. "I need to ask you a few questions regarding recent activities in the area. I'm Dr. Amelia Buck, this is Dr. Alto Clef."

'Alto Clef…?' Camila thought of such an odd name.

"Yeah, just a few questions!" the man added cheerfully, though his eyes glinted with a predatory playfulness. "Like, oh, all the fun stuff you've been up to! You know, finance stuff!" His tone was so casual, it grated against Camila's nerves, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something sinister beneath his eccentric demeanor.

Camila nodded, keeping her poker face intact, though inside, alarm bells were ringing. She could sense that something was off about the duo, but for now, she steeled herself and focused on maintaining her composure. They made her suspicious.

"Right… finance," she replied cautiously. "What exactly do you need to know?"

Dr. Buck shifted her weight, her piercing gaze unrelenting. "Any unusual activities, occurrences, or strange individuals near the area. We're trying to assess potential risks as our company reported some…unusual reports." Her professionalism was intimidating, and her lack of emotion only added to the uncomfortable atmosphere.

Camila felt the tension rise. "I see. Well, it's a quiet town. Nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you."

"Nothing at all?" Clef asked, tilting his head slightly, that unsettling grin still plastered on his face. "No sightings of peculiar people or strange phenomena?" The way he spoke made it seem like he was reveling in whatever he might uncover.

Trying to deflect his probing questions, Camila replied, "Just the usual small-town happenings. Nothing dangerous, I promise."

Before the conversation could drift further into uncomfortable territory, Vee appeared at the threshold, her eyes wide with curiosity. "What's going on?" she asked, glancing between Camila and the unexpected guests.

Camila felt a flutter of anxiety; she had not intended for Vee to be drawn into this interaction, especially not with the way Clef's gaze snapped to her. His smirk widened disturbingly. Buck's glaring demeanor didn't lighten; instead, her eyes narrowed further at Vee, assessing her like a scientist observing a specimen.

"Ah, another one! Perfect!" Clef exclaimed, stepping forward, his charm twinkling with a hint of mischief. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about any recent unfortunate oopsies, would you?"

Vee froze, caught off guard by the duo's intense scrutiny, her body stiffening as if she were a deer caught in the headlights and giving a weak negative nod. Camila could see her daughter's apprehension mirrored of her own.

Dr. Buck shifted her focus back to Camila, her expression unyielding. "We need to conclude this discussion," she said coldly, seemingly satisfied by their minimal findings. "Thank you for your cooperation."

Clef gave a mock salute. "Yeah, thanks for the chat! Nice meeting you Camie!" The unsettling nature of his grin lingered as he stepped back, leading Dr. Buck away.

As they walked off, Vee turned to Camila, her eyes wide with confusion. "What was that about? Who were they?"

Camila shook her head, still trying to shake off the feeling of dread that hung over her. "I'm not sure, but something definitely feels off."

With a deep breath, she turned back to the door, contemplating what implications the visit from these two strange individuals might hold for her and her family.

The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over the woods as Vee made her way to Masha's house. The crisp night air filled her lungs, refreshing and invigorating, each breath a gentle reminder of her excitement. The vibrant sounds of the night surrounded her—crickets chirping, the soft rustle of leaves—and yet a peculiar sense of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. She paused for a moment, allowing herself to fully appreciate the beauty around her, the serene stillness interrupted only by the nocturnal chorus.

As she ventured deeper into the trees, the shadows thickened, and the night grew quieter. Vee couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, an unsettling sensation creeping into her thoughts. She stopped and glanced over her shoulder, her heart beating a little faster. But only darkness met her gaze, solid and impenetrable. She drew a slow breath, attempting to shake off the gnawing anxiety, and pushed forward, reminding herself of the laughter that awaited her just a little further down the path.

With each step, the whispers of the forest seemed to merge into an almost hypnotic rhythm. Vee focused on the comforting sounds—the rustle of a small animal in the underbrush, the far-off call of an owl. But just as she felt herself relax, something cold and damp pressed against her mouth and nose. A horrid, sweet scent invaded her senses, overwhelming and disorienting.

Panic surged through her as she struggled against the unexpected force, her mind racing. She fought to breathe, but her limbs grew heavy, the world around her beginning to blur. Desperation clawed at her throat as she inhaled sharply, the sweet scent wrapping around her like a shroud.

And then, just like that, darkness enveloped her.

When Vee finally regained consciousness, everything felt disorienting. As her eyes fluttered open, she found herself lying on a cold, hard surface. Dim light filtered in through cracks in the walls, casting eerie shadows across the dank basement. Panic surged through her as she tried to sit up, only to discover her wrists and ankles bound tightly.

"Get it together, Vee," she whispered to herself, heart racing as she took in her surroundings. The familiar scent of mildew filled the air, and dread pooled in her stomach when she noticed a figure lurking in the shadows, observing her intently. Her pulse quickened, but as she blinked against the dim light, a spark of defiance ignited within her. She knew exactly who had taken her.

"Really? A cage? How original, Jacob. You really need to step up your game," Vee scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jacob Hopkins, a scruffy man with an unkempt appearance, burst into the room, clipboard in hand as if it were a weapon. His eyes danced between excitement and annoyance as he regarded her.

"Welcome back, Vee!" he grinned, his enthusiasm laced with condescension. "I knew you'd come from Mars to join us again. You can't hide your extraterrestrial origins from me!"

Vee rolled her eyes, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest. "Oh, please. I'm not scared of you. My friends would kick your ass if they knew I was here. And don't forget, my mom, Camila, has a flip-flop with your name on it."

Jacob's expression faltered, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face as memories of his last encounter with Camila and her infamous flip-flop flashed before him.

"That was a fluke!" he retorted, trying to regain his composure. "You're in my domain now, and I have all the power!"

Vee leaned forward, a smirk playing on her lips. "Power? You mean the power to annoy me? Because that's all you've got."

Just then, a loud bell rang at the door, shattering the tension in the room. Jacob's eyes widened in panic.

"Who the hell is that?" he exclaimed, glancing nervously at Vee, who raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by his discomfort.

Reluctantly, Jacob moved toward the door, peering through the peephole. "It better not be another one of those weird cultists…" he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with anxiety.

He swung the door open, revealing Dr. Clef—a tall figure with an enigmatic presence, clad in a long coat and wearing an amused smirk. The air around him shimmered with an unsettling energy.

"Heard you were having a party, Jacob. Mind if I crash?" Clef asked casually, his feral grin making Jacob's face pale as he instinctively raised his clipboard like a shield, though he maintained his poker face.

"Uhm… hi? Can I help you, mister…" Jacob stammered, adjusting his glasses in a futile attempt to regain control of the situation.

"Clef. Alto Clef," he introduced himself smoothly. "Just checking in on my favorite conspiracy theorist. I hope you haven't resorted to invading someone's privacy or… kidnapping."

Hopkins shot him an irritable look, annoyed at the implication that he was some bumbling fool. He wished that was the case, but the reality of the situation was far more precarious.

"If you've come to mock—HEY!" Before Hopkins could finish his reply, Clef casually brushed past him and strode into the dimly lit room, leaving Jacob in his wake as he protested ineffectively.

"Wait, what are you doing? You can't just barge in here!" Jacob called out, following Clef with a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. But Clef paid him no mind, his attention drawn to the clutter of papers and the various conspiracy theories plastered on the walls.

"Nice place you've got here," Clef remarked with an almost playful mockery, examining a map dotted with UFO sightings and cryptid reports. "Such a mess! I didn't realize your conspiracy room would be an exhibition of chaos."

Jacob's irritation thickened. "It's an organized research facility! The majority of this is legitimate data—"

"Oh, please!" Clef interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. He paused at a particularly elaborate pin-up for Bigfoot sightings, raising an eyebrow. "But this Bigfoot stuff is fascinating. What? Are you trying to prove he's part of your alien invasion cover-up?"

"Bigfoot isn't part of an alien invasion!" Jacob shot back, his voice rising. "And I'm not trying to prove anything! I just… I just follow the evidence!"

Clef leaned against the wall, arms crossed and a sardonic grin plastered on his face. "Evidence, right. So, have the witches finally sent their Mars-borne emissaries to conquer Earth? I can't wait to hear about it!" His tone dripped with sarcasm.

At this, Jacob's irritation boiled over. "Witches! Coming from Mars to take over!" He threw his hands up dramatically. "You wouldn't believe the top-secret information I've gathered on this! They've infiltrated our government, you know! Just think about it—flying brooms, green skin, and mind control! This is just the beginning!"

Clef stared at him in silence, eyebrows raised, just letting the ridiculousness of the rant sink in. Then, without warning, he erupted into laughter. "...HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Clef clutched his chest, doubling over as the fit of laughter overtook him. "I know some real speculative nutjobs in Parawatch, but this takes the cake!"

Jacob's indignant expression hardened as he watched Clef convulse with laughter, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment and anger. "This isn't funny! I'm serious!" he exclaimed, his voice straining with frustration. "The connections are undeniable! This isn't just some game to me!"

"Well, it definitely is a game to me," Clef replied, wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye, utterly unfazed by Jacob's offense. "And honestly, the absurdity is just too entertaining. We should bottle it up for the next conspiracy convention."

If Jacob's face could redden further, it would. "You have no idea how dangerous the world can be when people don't take these things seriously!"

Clef straightened up, his playful expression softening for the briefest moment. "Dangerous? Oh, I have a pretty good idea," he said, his voice losing its jest. "But I'll give you this—you've certainly got a talent for turning reality into a comedy show."

Hopkins shot Clef another irritated look, caught in a whirlwind of annoyance and a desperate need to be taken seriously. But then Clef's expression shifted from mirth to something far more chilling. He regarded Hopkins with a disdainful glare, as if he were nothing more than vermin beneath his boot.

"Here's the exposition dump, you delusional, prattling worm: those witches and this… slug girl you hold captive in your basement," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. Hopkins's eyes widened in shock—how did this man know? But before he could formulate a response, Clef continued, relentless. "They come from a pocket reality called the Demon Realm, not Mars. Whatever life may have existed on Mars is long gone; it's now merely a refuge for other extraterrestrials. The Bigfoots? They're actually an ancient race known as the Yerens, who dominated Earth long before humanity emerged, until we sent them to their sorry state. Oh there is an aquatic dinosaur ghost called SCP-2113, those Shark plushies everyone loves are in fact anomalous, AIs can develop souls there's even a robo afterlife for that and Abraham Lincoln is a T-Rex not a guy with an arm on his head. "

Hopkins gaped at the flood of information, he delivered it like undeniable facts with a casual ease that left him reeling and Hopkings looked like he was going to short-fuse any moment while having an existential crisis "Your great ancestor, Phillip Wittabane, whom you're so proud of and constantly remind everyone you're related to? He was a Fleshcrafting Neo-Sarkic Sorcerer-king who murdered his own brother for not being 'religious' enough and sleeping with a witch. He then after re-acting the Cain and Abel story declared himself the emperor of Boiling Isle. Kind of hypocritical for a supposed witch hunter to become a witch king, don't you think? Oh well, it's not like anyone would believe anything coming from your mouth anyway." He shrugged dryly.

Completely bamboozled, Hopkins struggled to find his words. "How… how do you know all of this?"

"Maybe instead of playing the delusional self-proclaimed savior, you should engage in REAL investigation instead of kidnapping and violating others' privacy while spewing random conspiracy theories like an obnoxious brat. I'm no saint either, but at least I do the things I do for REAL reasons—not because my skull is thicker than telekill alloy and can only hear my own voices." Clef's eyes sharpened into a scowl as he took a few steps toward Hopkins, who instinctively stepped back.

"I know a Jacob, and he's a wizard in technology, literally. You give all Jacobs a bad name." Clef sneered, gesturing mockingly at the walls plastered with photos of UFOs and cryptids. "You think you know monsters?" His demeanor shifted, becoming demonic as three glowing eyes revealed themselves, radiating a suffocating aura. The reality around them began to glitch and warp as his teeth sharpened into predatory points. "You know nothing!"

Hopkins felt terror grip him, and he fell backward onto the floor, trembling. "What… kind of monster are you?" he whimpered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Clef simply laughed, tauntingly. "Oh, I'm the worst kind of monster. Maybe I'm the Devil, maybe I'm Adam, the father of humanity, or perhaps some wandering Sumerian god with nothing better to do. But really… I'm the worst kind of monster—the human kind." A chill coursed through Hopkins's spine, petrifying him in place.

In an instant, Alto reverted back to his normal self, his mirth returning as if he hadn't just terrified Hopkins to the brink of panic. "I'm sure you can handle it. But I think it's time you let professionals deal with the resident slug and go cry in a hole, don't you think? I'll deal with you later." With that, he stepped over Hopkins and descended into the basement, leaving Hopkins utterly shocked and paralyzed with fear.

Clef descended into the basement, met with an unexpected sight: Vee had somehow freed herself from her cage. She stood there, feigning helplessness, wide eyes glistening with faux innocence when in reality she was surprised by his presence.

"Oh thank God! I was trapped by this lunatic! I don't know what his deal is!" she cried, her voice trembling as she played the part of a frightened girl.

Clef smirked, his gaze piercing. "You really shouldn't watch so much Spanish melodrama. I know you're not human."

Vee's facade faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, trying to maintain her act.

"Right," he replied, rolling his eyes. "My organization initially thought you and your kind were some subspecies of SCP-1076. You're lucky you're not, or else you and your kin would have been 'Neutralized.'" He let the implication hang in the air—she knew by 'Neutralization' he meant shot on sight. "We don't tolerate anomalous cuckoos infiltrating human families." A glimmer of amusement danced in his eyes. "Considering you impersonated Luz Noceda, we were tempted to categorize you the same way."

Vee reeled back in surprise, her heart racing. "What's an 'Yessipee' even?"

Clef ignored her question, his tone turning serious. "You're coming with me."

At that moment, Vee realized the jig was up. She shifted back to her true form, instinctively drawing upon a strange field of power she had sensed when she first encountered Clef. It was a force unlike anything she had experienced before, an oppressive energy that seemed to thicken the surrounding air. She hissed at him animalistically yet he was not even fazed by her appearance one bit.

"Do you even have a classification and Earth permit to live?" Clef asked drily, counting off on his fingers, unfazed by her transformation as she hissed at him. "Identity theft, fraud, impersonation, illegal immigration, fake identity. In case you don't know, sweetheart, we don't let shapeshifters run around faking identities or stealing them."

Vee felt the weight of his words like a stone settling in her gut. He must possess some sort of "magic," given the dreadful aura radiating from him. In a moment of reckless defiance, she decided to take a bite of his power—a very bad choice. As her teeth sunk into the energy that surrounded him, she expected a surge of strength, but instead found herself staggered by a violent backlash. Clef's aura was like fire, scorching her senses and leaving her disoriented.

"Enough of this." Clef's voice hardened, and in the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between them. "You think you can just take what's not yours? That was your last mistake."

Vee instinctively braced herself, though panic surged within her; Clef's energy crackled in the air, an irresistible force that threatened to consume her. She narrowed her eyes, struggling to regain her footing. "I'm not going anywhere with you!" she hissed defiantly.

Clef took a measured step closer, his dark expression unyielding. "You don't have a choice. You'll either come willingly, or I'll ensure you're forcibly returned. Either way, you won't be a problem for me or anyone else."

In that moment, Vee realized she was facing not just a man but a formidable presence—something far beyond anything she had encountered before. She needed a plan, fast. Desperation coursed through her, and with it came a flicker of determination. "You think you can just scare me? You don't know anything about who I really am or what I'm capable of!"

Clef chuckled, eyes narrowing. "Oh, I know enough. And I assure you, I'm not the one who should be scared."

Vee felt the weight of Clef's words settle heavily over her. It was clear he was not just a man; he was a force of nature, radiating a dreadful aura that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. In a moment of reckless defiance, she made a fateful decision—to take a bite of his power. The instant her teeth made contact, her body convulsed violently with visceral revulsion.

She doubled over, the contents of her stomach heaving out onto the floor, a gut-wrenching expulsion that left her gasping. The taste flooded her mouth, more repulsive than she could have imagined—an acrid mixture reminiscent of writhing maggots and decay, each bite a nauseating reminder of her dire predicament.

"Who… what kind of demon are you?!" she gasped, her voice trembling with disbelief as her body shook from the nausea.

"Oh, I'm worse than any demon, sweetheart," Clef replied, a twisted Cheshire grin stretching across his face, almost inhumanly wide. "I'm the Devil everyone wishes they had never met!" His eyes glowed with mismatched colors, and a third eye revealed itself on his forehead, each gaze piercing through Vee's very essence.

As he stepped closer, shadows swirled around him, dark tendrils eclipsing the space between them. Vee felt the weight of her failure—the nausea still coursing through her—as he loomed over her, his presence suffocating. "Don't worry—you'll join your kin soon," he added with a chilling softness, promising with an unsettling delight.

Panic surged through Vee, a primal instinct for survival kicking in. She scrambled to her feet, her mind racing for a way out of this nightmare. Backed against the wall, she bawled her fists, recalling the strange magic that had once pulsed through her veins. "I won't let you take me!" she shouted defiantly, tapping into the reserve of her own power despite the lingering taste of his oppressive darkness.

Clef's grin widened, amusement dancing in his mismatched eyes. "Ah, now we're getting somewhere! Show me what you can do, little shapeshifter!"

With that, Vee summoned every ounce of strength she had, feeling the magic once again swirl around her—a rush of energy that momentarily pushed back against Clef's oppressive force. Color flared in the room as a faint glow enveloped her hands, but it was weak, flickering like a flame in the wind.

"Do you really think that's enough?" Clef taunted, the shadows at his back swirling more aggressively. "You're just a child playing with shadows. I eat creatures like you for breakfast!"

But Vee wouldn't back down. However weak her magic felt, she was determined to fight. "I'm not just some child—you don't know anything about me!"

As if to prove her point, she threw her hands forward, trying to manifest the energy she sought, but it fizzled and sputtered, caught in the grasp of Clef's darker power. His laughter, low and mocking, echoed around her, shaking her resolve.

"It's adorable that you think a flicker of light can challenge the dark," he sneered, advancing as the oppressive aura leaned in closer, surrounding her like a voracious predator.

"Then I'll just have to prove you wrong!" Vee shouted, drawing on fury and desperation. She steadied her breath, focusing on the connection between her and the remaining flickers of her power, hoping to channel something, anything, that might catch him off guard—a last gambit to turn the tide of this terrifying encounter.

Just as Clef prepared to strike, the air crackled with energy. Vee's power surged, igniting as she unleashed a pulse of raw magic, an explosion of light aimed straight at him with all her might, desperate to break through the shadows enshrouding her. Would it be enough to buy her time or even turn the battle against the Devil standing before her?

Her question was soon answered as the smoke dissipated and revealed the Devil still standing, his Cheshire grin inhumanly long, three glowing eyes piercing the smoke, and before she could react he in a fast motion came out of the obscuring smoke so fast that her three glowing eyes left a trace of colorful lines momentarily, near her, grabbed the closest wooden chair and hit her with it so hard that the wooden chair broke and sent her flying away hitting the wall.

She stayed weakly down, weakened by this field of 'Anti-Magic' this human or if he can be called a human generated, stared helplessly as the devil walked toward her his shadow eclipsing her.

Just before her unconsciousness took over, she saw many armoured soldiers spreading all over with a few behind Clef coming their guns pointed at her.

Camila sighed as she stepped into her house after her night shift. But the moment she flicked on the lights, she realized she was not alone.

A man in his 30s or 40s stood before her, his disheveled appearance reflecting a chaotic and unpredictable nature. His short, dark hair was unkempt, suggesting a neglect for personal grooming. His sharp facial features were often highlighted by a serious or intense expression, and his deep-set eyes conveyed both intelligence and a weariness that hinted at extensive experience.

He wore standard lab attire, though his lab coat was stained and rumpled, paired with practical footwear. Camila might have mistaken him for a homeless man if not for the lab coat and the sidearm visible on his belt. A wave of anxiety washed over her; her pepper spray would be useless against someone armed with a gun.

Yet the odd man didn't even glance her way as he took a sip from a flask. After a moment, he turned to her and said, "Ah, Mrs. Noceda. About time you showed up. Staying in the dark for hours just to pull the mysterious intruder cliché was boring my eyes."

"What are you doing in my house?" she asked coldly.

"I'm a colleague of Dr. Clef and Dr. Buck, whom you met earlier today. As you may have guessed, my colleagues and I didn't come from the Durant Bodfel Financial Group. Our group… let's just say we deal with things that disappear at night."

Were they some sort of government agency? Camila blinked, her mind racing. Ignoring Hopkins' crackpot theories, she couldn't shake the feeling that every government had its skeletons—organizations that handled secrets the public was never meant to know. The thought made her anxious, especially regarding Vee and Luz's friends.

"What do you want, government thug? Here to collect my taxes?" she shot back, masking her fear with sarcasm. The man, whose name she now knew was Kondraki, chuckled, amused by her response, and then announced as if he were about to reveal the news of the century.

"Oh, we're not answerable to any government. We are the SCP Foundation, an entity dedicated to the retrieval and containment of unusual objects, entities, and phenomena. Our mission is to explore and understand their origins, abilities, and mechanisms. We aim to safeguard Normalcy, allowing the world to live in the light while we operate in the shadows, defending the anomalous from persecution and prejudice. For over a century, this has been our motto: we Secure, we Contain, and we Protect."

He let his words sink in as Camila processed what he had just said. She couldn't help but think that if Hopkins had been there, he would've had a field day with all his ramblings about secret societies, cabals, and shadowy countries. While Camila thought this might be some kind of joke, the serious way he spoke made her wonder if he was either telling the truth or simply a great actor.

"And I suppose you're going to tell me that everything you and your organization does is for the 'Greater Good' or some nonsense?" she asked, her trepidation bubbling beneath the surface.

He scoffed. "Oh, we have skeletons, alright, honey. We mind-wipe the populace whenever they see something weird, and we use disposable test subjects from convicts and hardened criminals—though that practice has dramatically decreased over the years. Some of the things we've had to do could be considered violations of basic rights. I'm not going to sugarcoat the Foundation or give you some 'For the Greater Good' bullcrap." Getting to his feet, he forced Camila to grip her pepper spray tightly, knowing all too well that he had a gun.

"You think we're the only shadowy, anomalous organization out there? There are more than I can count on my fingers. Trust me when I say most of them are far less merciful and understanding than us Skippers." His grim expression intensified as he added, "Take PENTAGRAM, for example. It's the top-secret occult division of the United States Department of Defense. Just imagine how they reacted when they discovered there's an access point to a 'Demon Realm' on U.S. soil." Sarcasm dripped from his tone.

"I kid you not, PENTAGRAM and the Horizon Initiative were running around like headless Humans Refuted, thinking they were dealing with an entire realm filled with Tartarean entities ruled by a Neo-Sarkic." He paused dramatically, as if waiting for a reaction, then continued, "Do you know what PENTAGRAM would have done if we hadn't intervened? They're pretty liberal with using Eigenweapons. If it weren't for us taking the reins and proving that these demons aren't 'real' demons, they would've opened their arsenal and burned the 'Demon Realm' to cinders." His disdain for PENTAGRAM was palpable.

"What are Eigenweapons?" Camila asked, her curiosity piqued despite the circumstances.

"Anomalous weapons of mass destruction. Think of them like napalm," he replied matter-of-factly.

"And... what about Horizon?" Camila swallowed hard.

"They're made up of three major Abrahamic religions. What do you think would be the first instinct of a religious paramilitary organization confronted with a realm of demons and witches?" Kondraki shot her a sardonic look.

'So there's a whole religious organization filled with Belos. Great,' she thought, cursing under her breath in Spanish. Then she recalled something he said and raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Wait… what do you mean by 'real demons'?" Camila asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Pitchfork jerks, fallen angels, red gremlins, mischief yokai—those are the genuine article. We call them Tartarean Entities," he explained, gesturing emphatically as he elaborated. "They feed off Tartarean energy, which, as you might guess, is derived from the sins and vices of mortals. It's like snack food for them. Oh, and yes, Hell exists, and some of them even come from it. But don't worry; there's a site down there that got accidentally dragged along with a portion of Las Vegas, and the director keeps the demons in check. I even heard he has a Wrath demon as a bodyguard."

Camila stared at him, dumbfounded and unblinking, struggling to comprehend the absurdity of what Kondraki had just revealed. A site in Hell? What kind of people were the Foundation? "...Do I even want to know why Vegas, exactly?" she asked hesitantly.

Kondraki laughed, a scoffing sound that broke the tension. "It's Vegas—the City of Sin! What do you think?" He took a sip from his flask. "I've heard Undervegas is quite a popular tourist attraction in the Anomalous World."

'Figures,' Camila thought, even finding that far too obvious.

After a moment, Kondraki's expression turned serious, the mirth vanishing from his eyes. "The Sarkics have come to the Boiling Isle. Your daughter and her friends are in danger."

"And I'm guessing they're another unfriendly group I should lose sleep over?" Camila asked, exasperated.

He let out a sardonic, mirthless chuckle. "Oh, they're much worse than that. Imagine every body horror trope you can think of, blended with occultism. What you get are cannibalistic fleshcrafters who either worship some eldritch horror beyond human comprehension or fantasize about eating God."

"...On second thought, I think I prefer witch hunter zealots and government thugs with the threat of a nuclear option. Buen Dios…" she muttered under her breath in Spanish.

Kondraki took the cue to continue. "One particularly nasty group is the Adytum's Wake. It's a messed-up secret club where elites engage in depraved and sickening activities that would make even the Old Man blush."

"What's the Old Man?" Camila asked, genuinely curious.

"A nasty sadistic ghoul made of acidic tar. Not important right now," he waved a hand dismissively, almost making Camila roll her eyes at his antics, even as she felt the panic rising within her. "This Cabal is the oldest Sarkite organization in North America, dating back to 1650. It was once run by a sweat goblin named Cornelius P. Bodfel III." He tucked his flask into his pocket and raised his hands. "Yada yada yada, the Goc tried to stop them. The degenerated rich pigs attempted to bring back the Dark Messiah but accidentally summoned an otherworldly entity that slaughtered them and Bodfel. Everyone thought they were extinct, but that group actually survived in hiding and now has a keen interest in the Boiling Isle."

"Bodfel… why does that name sound familiar?" Camila asked, a sinking feeling growing in her stomach. She hoped her guess wouldn't be what she feared.

"That's because the public identity of this group is the Durant Bodfel Financial Group—the very group that has set up shop here and the one me and my colleagues are disguised as," Kondraki replied.

Camila's eyes widened in realization. Before she could respond, an ear-deafening scream pierced the air, making them both turn their heads toward the sound.

"Ah great!" Kondraki cursed, tension tightening around his features.

A blonde young woman, a former cheerleader from Gravesfield School, was walking toward a date when she noticed a figure lurking near the Noceda residence.

"Who's there?" she frowned and called out, her curiosity piqued.

When the figure turned, her head twisted like an owl, and what she saw next sent a chill down her spine. The figure's eyes glowed with a predatory light, resembling a wolf's, and it snarled, revealing sharp canine teeth. Three tendrils sprouted from its back, each edged like a blade.

"Ah great!" Kondraki cursed, tension tightening around his features.

The beast snarled back, louder this time, and shot one of its tendrils toward her, aiming to impale her. She turned to flee, but before it could reach her, a storm of green butterflies burst from the windows of the Noceda residence, swirling into a flurry that struck the she-beast like daggers, causing it to shriek in pain.

Camila and Kondraki rushed outside just in time to see the creature writhing, jumping back and forth like a wounded animal. Camila looked bewildered, while Kondraki's expression was one of disdain.

The she-beast, now desperate, pulled a pistol from a cavity in her own flesh, aiming it at Camila and Kondraki. But the butterflies reformed into a shield, protecting them both.

In a moment of primal rage, the she-beast lunged at the blonde girl, who stood frozen in shock, claws poised to strike. Just then, a group of butterflies morphed into spears and impaled the creature from back to chest, causing it to drop with a shriek of agony.

As the she-beast lay bleeding, Camila and Kondraki stepped closer, observing the dying creature. Blood pooled around it, and despite its Sarkic abilities, it was clear that regeneration had its limits.

With blood in her mouth, the she-beast gasped, "Your… daughter and… her corpse-worshipping friends… will be food… nothing more…" With a final hitch, she died, her eyes remaining open in a haunting stare.

Kondraki rubbed his face in frustration. "Gaaah! Great, they know! She spied on us, and I just let my anomalous pretties out to save that dumb blonde! And she had a microphone with her, so they definitely know the Foundation is here now!" He grabbed Camila by the hand, pulling her along.

"Woah, woah! Where do you think you're taking me?!" Camila protested, confusion and fear lacing her voice.

"Sorry, Mrs. Noceda, but you and your kids—and the witchling kids—are now under Foundation jurisdiction. You'll comply if you want to see your daughters and everyone you know alive, not as Sarkic food," he said seriously. Camila couldn't protest; he was right. The Foundation was their best hope. If that she-beast was anything to go by, this was just the tip of the incoming storm.

Her mind struggled to process the reality of the situation. The very being that had stalked them, likely planning to kill her and Kondraki, was everything he had described, and yet the visceral memory of its snarl and augmented flesh sent a chill through her. She worried about what Luz and the others might be facing.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!?" the blonde woman shrieked again, panic rising in her voice.

Kondraki facepalmed. "AH crap! I forgot she existed!"

Notes: SCP-7816 are the shark plushies.

SCP-148 is Telekill

SCP-3199 is Humans Refuted

SCP-6861 is Lincoln Rex.

SCP-2987 are AIs with a soul.

SCP-3560 all robots go to limbo.