The Vanishing Act

When the Site Director called, the security officer monitoring Basement Level 4 blinked at his screen.

"Nothing's happening…"

Yet he dutifully relayed the feed to the Director's office.

On the monitors, the doors to SCP-173's containment unit stood wide open, and Luo Shu—grinning eerily—loitered in the hallway like a ghost.

But neither the Director nor the security officer registered this.

To them, the scene was utterly normal.

They didn't just miss the anomaly—they couldn't perceive it at all.

The Director hung up and dialed Technical Services.

"Check the system for false alarms. The logs say 173's doors are open, but the cameras show nothing."

The technician's reply was firm. "Our system doesn't glitch. The alarm triggers when both doors open simultaneously—it's a physical circuit, not software. Even memetics can't hack that."

The Director knew this.

When two sources conflicted, the Foundation always erred on the side of caution.

He made a third call. "Get your team moving. 173 might be loose again."

"Again? It's barely been a week!" The bearded MTF commander groaned. "Can't we just send D-20915?"

"The D-block cafeteria's a warzone right now. Just go!"

Unbeknownst to them, D-20915 was Luo Shu—the very cause of this breach.

The Peanut's Dilemma

Luo Shu waited impatiently in the hall.

What's taking so long, Peanut?

The door's open! Get out here!

Inside, SCP-173 remained frozen, stubbornly facing the wall.

Then—footsteps.

A security team arrived, rushing past Luo Shu to surround the open unit.

But under the anti-meme's effect, their formation was sloppy, driven by instinct, not protocol.

Standard procedure required back-to-back surveillance to counter SCP-173's neck-snap.

These men? They just stared at the door.

Suddenly—SCP-173 teleported behind the rearmost guard, arms raised.

Luo Shu understood.

Ah.

SCP-173 needed observers to freeze, but none to move.

With Luo Shu invisible to it, the statue had been trapped in limbo—until the guards arrived.

Now, with eyes on it again, it locked up mid-lunge.

Bro, when did you get here?! SCP-173's nonexistent psyche wailed. Stop haunting me!

Luo Shu patted its concrete shoulder. "Good job. Now go back to bed."

I can't move while you're looking!

Realizing the issue, Luo Shu turned to the guards. "Help me carry it inside."

Obedient in their dazed state, they complied.

Soon, SCP-173 was re-contained, and the Catalog's first-page "X" became an "O" again.

Neck-snap: reactivated.

Satisfied, Luo Shu hurried toward the stairs—

—only to collide with the bearded MTF commander in his powered armor.

Instinctively, Luo Shu covered his face.

Just in time.

The commander's eyes sharpened with recognition.

"Halt! Identify yourself! Show me your face!"

Shit.

The anti-meme effect had worn off.

Luo Shu's hand hovered over the Catalog's third-page "O"—but he hesitated.

Persuasion wouldn't work here.

Not with dozens of cameras watching.

Not with half of Site-19 mobilized over the breach.

Even if he convinced the commander, someone would notice.

And the commander wasn't the type to monologue before shooting.

"3!"

The countdown began.

"2!"

No time to think.

"1!"

The pistol's hammer clicked back—

—and Luo Shu vanished.

At the same moment, in the monitoring room, a guard gasped.

"Was that… 173?!"