Chapter 79:

Chapter 79:

Lina woke up in her cell at Site-17. After getting dressed, she left her room at 6 a.m., wearing her military uniform, a dark outfit with a green armband showing the logo of her MTF. She walked to the cafeteria, where the rest of her team was already gathered.

One of the operators asked, "Anyone heard anything about Iris?"

Another responded, "From what I've heard, her condition has improved, but she'll be back on her feet by next week."

The team spoke quietly until Colonel Mendoza joined them. They all stood up, greeting him, "Commander."

Mendoza replied, "At ease," and sat next to Dr. Turner. The team returned to their meal until Mendoza spoke again.

"I have an announcement," he began. "Later today, a new recruit will join Omega-7."

One of the operators, Alvarez, muttered, "Another new one? Hope she doesn't end up in the hospital like Iris on her first mission."

A few operators chuckled, but Mendoza and Kovacs were not amused, glaring at Alvarez until he fell silent.

Mendoza continued, "I strongly suggest you don't get cocky with the recruit. According to the information I've been given, she's highly valued by the Administrator himself."

That last bit surprised the team.

Mendoza continued, "Anyway, she should be joining us in a few minutes." The team grew curious about the identity of this new recruit. They headed to the briefing room, where the colonel outlined the training schedule for the day.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and a woman entered — it was Lucretia Popescu. She wore a tactical jacket, pants, and boots, walking with an icy demeanor. Her appearance was striking: the sides of her head were shaved, with her voluminous top hair styled sharply. Her violet eyes were cold, devoid of emotion, matching her serious, focused expression.

Lucretia stepped forward, standing rigidly at attention before Mendoza.

"Agent Lucretia Popescu, Special Asset of the Foundation, reporting for duty as per the transfer order to MTF Omega-7, 'Pandora's Box,'" she said, her voice steady but her face expressionless, showing no trace of warmth or feeling.

The room fell silent, and the team exchanged glances, instantly realizing that this recruit was not someone to be underestimated.

Lina felt a strange pull towards Lucretia, a sense of familiarity that she couldn't quite place. As Lucretia scanned the room, her gaze settled on Lina. With cold precision, she approached her.

"You must be Lina," Lucretia said, her voice firm yet oddly calm. "I'm Lucretia, and I'll be serving as your mentor and instructor regarding your Sarkic abilities. I'm a Sarkic myself." To demonstrate, she turned one of her fingers into a writhing red tentacle, eliciting a few gasps from the team. With a simple thought, it reverted back to a normal finger.

She then addressed Mendoza, "Requesting permission to test Lina's capabilities."

Mendoza gave a curt nod. "Permission granted."

Without warning, Lucretia grabbed Lina by the collar and dragged her outside to the training arena. Reaching the center, she tossed Lina onto the ground.

"Get up," Lucretia demanded, her voice as cold as her stare. Lina cautiously stood, brushing the dirt off her uniform.

"We're going to do a simple exercise," Lucretia explained, her tone calm but commanding. "Attack me with everything you've got. But control SCP-8888-1 — keep it in check."

Lina hesitated, then her hands began to shift. From her forearms, thick, sinewy tentacles emerged, twisting and writhing with the strength of her Sarkic transformation. She lunged at Lucretia with a wild fury, her tentacles striking out like whips.

But Lucretia moved like a shadow, dodging with ease, her expression never faltering. Every strike Lina attempted was met with a sidestep, a pivot, or a casual dodge. The more Lina pressed, the more frustrated she became, her tentacles slicing through the air but never connecting.

With a swift motion, Lucretia ducked under a wild attack, sweeping Lina's legs out from under her with a precise kick. Lina hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of her. Before she could react, Lucretia's hands shifted, morphing into sharp, spear-like tentacles. She placed the tip of one directly in front of Lina's throat.

"You're dead," Lucretia said calmly, her voice devoid of any emotion. She then withdrew her arm, returning it to its normal form.

Lina lay there, panting, trying to process what had just happened.

Lucretia's voice was ice-cold as she spoke. "I see where your weaknesses lie. Whoever trained you in your powers must be an ignorant fool — incompetent, and clueless."

Lina glanced sideways and caught a glimpse of Dr. Turner's face turning dark with rage. His fists clenched, lips pressed together as he glared daggers at Lucretia. Without warning, Lucretia's head snapped toward him, her eyes glowing a menacing red. Turner, taken aback, dropped his gaze and began to tremble, sweat dripping down his brow.

Her eyes reverted to their usual color as she turned back to Lina. "But don't worry," Lucretia said, her voice softening into something more sinister. "With me, you'll become a true Sarkic. Don't worry, we're going to have a LOT of fun together," she added with a devilish grin.

Lina gulped audibly, a sense of dread tightening her throat as she stared at her unsettling new mentor.

—

Meanwhile, Léonard trudged through his day at high school, the monotony of the classroom weighing heavily on him. He sat at his desk, diligently copying notes from the board, his expression a mix of boredom and fatigue. His classmates were equally uninspired, staring blankly at their papers as the teacher droned on about French grammar. The air was thick with a sense of defeat, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of papers or the sound of pens scratching against the pages.

After what felt like an eternity, Léonard raised his hand hesitantly, breaking the silence that enveloped the room. "Excuse me, can I go to the restroom?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The teacher sighed, clearly exasperated with the endless interruptions, and replied, "Yes, go ahead." Léonard took this as a small victory and slipped out of the classroom, grateful for a moment away from the mind-numbing lecture.

As he entered the restroom, he quickly relieved himself and walked over to the sink. He turned on the tap, the cold water refreshing against his hands. As he washed, something caught his eye in the mirror—a doll appeared next to him, seemingly out of nowhere, its porcelain features reflecting the fluorescent lights overhead. Léonard's heart raced as he jumped back, staring in disbelief at the doll, which had blonde hair styled in soft curls and wore a frilly pink dress.

"Am I beautiful?" the doll asked, her voice soft and almost melodic. Léonard blinked, taken aback by the surreal encounter. "Uh, yes… yes, you're very, very beautiful," he stammered, unsure of how to react to a talking doll. The doll smiled brightly and turned back to the mirror, adjusting her hair as if she were examining her reflection.

Suddenly, a notification window appeared beside the doll, glowing softly against the stark tiles of the restroom:

[Ding! You have encountered SCP-706 "Perfect Porcelain Doll". Please contain it.]

[Display Information]

[Name: SCP-706 "Perfect Porcelain Doll"

Age: 12 years old

Race: N/A (Formerly Human)

Threat Level: Green

Description: SCP-706 is an adolescent European-American female identified as ███████ ████████, twelve years old according to local records at the time of initial containment. Records also indicate that SCP-706 had been home-schooled throughout her life, resulting in limited social interaction, as neighbors rarely saw her outdoors.

SCP-706 appears physiologically normal with the exception of an abnormally high resting body temperature of approximately 38.5°C, and her entire epidermis is composed of porcelain, apart from small areas around her joints. This porcelain layer is incredibly fragile; it can crack or shatter upon impact or even from excessive movement, a process reported to be agonizing. SCP-706 possesses the ability to regenerate this skin layer at a rate consistent with typical skin growth, provided she has access to suitable raw materials. Unfinished materials, such as kaolin, are particularly preferred; SCP-706 shows no specific resistance to tissue damage that may result from consuming hardened porcelain.

Unless directed otherwise, SCP-706 compulsively maintains her appearance, which typically involves gazing into mirrors and using any available makeup or paint to enhance, adjust, or alter her features. Should she be denied appropriate materials for upkeep or prevented from inspecting her appearance, SCP-706 will become distressed and uncooperative.]

Léonard, still reeling from the shock, quickly pulled out his phone and entered a number. After a few rings, Graves' voice came through, tinged with concern. "Boss?"

"I found an anomaly in my school restroom," Léonard explained, trying to keep his voice steady despite the surreal situation.

Graves' tone shifted instantly, laced with urgency. "Boss, don't stay near it! I'm on my way." In a flash, he materialized before Léonard, rifle raised and aimed at the doll.

"Wait, it's fine! Its threat level is green," Léonard urged, trying to defuse the situation. "Lower your weapon." He glanced back at the doll, who was now inspecting her reflection again, oblivious to the tense standoff.

Just as Léonard was about to step away, he halted, a thought striking him. "Hold on, since when can you teleport?"

"Since the Resh-1 upgrade," Graves replied nonchalantly, though his eyes remained focused on the doll. With swift precision, he reached out, grabbed the doll, and in an instant, they both vanished from the restroom.

Léonard returned to class, and the rest of the day passed uneventfully. When he got into the car, a system notification appeared:

[Ding! Congratulations on containing SCP-706. You have been rewarded with 2,000 Gold + a complete operator kit and equipment for Resh-1].

Léonard noticed a suit similar to those worn by Resh-1 appear in his lap and nodded in approval. He said, "Graves, head home. Also, I want you to prepare several MTFs and an operator from Resh-1 to head to our site in Lebanon. Mobilize the Department of External Affairs and Intelligence Agency to deploy a team of observers and several spies in Israel, Iraq, and Iran."

Graves replied, "Understood, Boss," and communicated all the orders through his radio.

As Léonard watched the scenery pass by, another notification appeared:

[Ding! Warning, your tribulation trial begins in 335 hours and 59 minutes. Please prepare for battle.]