Chapter 71: The Dragon Was Here, A Fantasy Adventure That Will Never ExistGiant?

Natasha Romanoff stared at the screen, murmuring, "So, those three paper balls are the giants from the fantasy world?"

Nick Fury frowned, arms crossed. "If those paper balls were giants, why would they leave the fantasy world? And why are they in that state?"

He thought back to the three crumpled balls of paper and the origami dragon's actions. It had retrieved them.

He had a guess now.

The creatures from the fantasy world weren't just visiting. They were trying to invade the real world.

And the dragon…

It was Asgardian.

But this realization also pointed to a deeper, more alarming issue: the fantasy world was deteriorating—and fast. Its collapse was accelerating.

Kamar-Taj

"It really is a giant," the Ancient One said, watching through her mystical projection.

In her sight, the three crumpled paper balls were no longer mere trash. They were corpses—fallen giants from another realm. The dragon, too, bore battle scars, its body broken and burned.

A fierce war had taken place.

The Ancient One closed her eyes, sensing the collapsing echoes of the fantasy world.

Time passed.

James stood beside Dr. Kondraki, dressed in a crisp white lab coat, reporting his findings.

"To sum up, I believe SCP-1762 is the product of the imagination of a Level 4 reality bender."

A stunned silence fell over the office.

Dr. Kondraki stared at James for a long moment. Then, with a heavy sigh, he said, "I never expected an ordinary 'Safe'-level containment object like SCP-1762 would lead to such a… surreal discovery."

James blinked, unsure how to respond.

Dr. Kondraki pulled a cigarette from his coat.

Hiss.

Puff.

He leaned back in his chair, blowing out a perfect smoke ring. "We found the old man who brought SCP-1762 here."

James leaned forward. "He's a reality bender?"

"No," Dr. Kondraki said quietly. "But his grandson was."

The live broadcast room went completely silent.

Had James actually guessed correctly?

Dr. Kondraki reached into his drawer and pulled out a yellowed photo. He handed it to James.

It showed a family of four: a grandfather, a father, a mother… and a child. But the child's image was faded, as if it had been erased from reality. A blank space remained where he should have been.

James looked up at him, eyes full of questions.

"He was likely a Level 4 reality bender," Kondraki explained, "Stage 3: Stable. But he wasn't around for long. I believe SCP-1762 was a manifestation of his imagination."

"SCP-1762…"

"If you want," Kondraki continued, "you can continue the project. But soon, it might be reclassified as Neutralized."

[Neutralized: An anomaly that has been destroyed or is no longer abnormal.]

The audience in the live stream slowly pieced it together.

The creator of the fantasy world—an imaginative child—was gone.

Which meant the world he had created was doomed.

A shared sense of loss swept through everyone watching.

Back in the Containment Room

James stood quietly in front of the silver box.

The unrestrained imagination of a child had once pierced the boundary between reality and fantasy—and now it was fading.

Suddenly—

Psst.

Smoke curled from the box.

Five origami dragons emerged from SCP-1762-1, fluttering through the air. Before James could react, they dropped a small note and quickly retreated back into the box.

James stepped forward and read:

"The situation is becoming increasingly tense."

"The fantasy world is growing darker."

"We—the Serpents and Hybrids—are trying to stop the others from returning. But the Humans and Elves want to open a portal and attack."

"They say your people have become stupid and ignorant. We hope this is not true. If you have truly forgotten us… we will be very sad."

James's hands trembled slightly.

So did many in the live stream.

In their minds, a brutal war was unfolding—a war between magical creatures, giants, serpents, dragons, and elves. The beauty of this world was being torn apart by conflict.

Fear and chaos reigned.

Stark Industries Building

Tony Stark stared at the footage on-screen.

His eyes softened. A world he never knew existed was unraveling before his very eyes.

Every child has a moment in life filled with pure, innocent imagination.

But childhood ends. And with it, the worlds we dream up.

"Snakes, giants, elves, dragons... must've been a beautiful world," Tony said softly.

A few days passed.

James returned to the containment room, waiting.

The box opened again.

This time, only the red origami dragon appeared.

The yellow tape once attached to its wings was gone. Its body was scarred, wrinkled, tattered.

It flapped its wings weakly, circling James once…

And then collapsed to the floor.

James knelt and picked it up.

There were words written on its wings.

"War."

"Goodbye, friends."

Silence fell over the containment room.

And the stream.

It was as if something precious had been lost forever.

"So… war was inevitable?"

"It just wanted to see its friend one last time…"

"The dragon has fallen."

One viewer summed up the mood best:

"I don't know why, but I feel like I lost something important…"

Suddenly—

Boom!

The box burst open, releasing a pillar of fire two meters high. Roars echoed from within SCP-1762-1.

James froze in place.

Shredded paper and paper balls spewed from the opening. Several origami dragons followed—but they, too, were lifeless, like the red one.

Dr. Kondraki appeared at the door.

"I detected an abnormal temperature—1700 degrees. Thought I'd check in."

He stepped into the room and looked around. His eyes landed on the origami dragon in James's hands.

"SCP-1762-2 is neutralized?"

"Yes," James said quietly. "They're dead."

Kondraki didn't argue. He approached the box and reached in, pulling out a roll of parchment.

Some of the text was blurred. Some stained with blood.

Everyone in the stream held their breath as he read aloud:

"Are you still there, friends? We miss you…"

"The Fantasy World is no longer safe. Our harbor, your creation, is gone. The giants are dead. The minotaurs are dead. The birds have fled."

"We will burn down your room. We cannot risk you being hurt."

"This is our farewell."

"Maybe one day, your people will build another room. This little hope may not come true, but we will cherish it."

Smoke poured from SCP-1762-1. For fifteen minutes, it shook violently.

Then… it began to fall apart.

The box slowly charred and disintegrated. Tiny burn holes spread across its surface.

And the words once printed on its lid—"Here Be Dragons"—burned away.

Kamar-Taj

The Ancient One watched the destruction unfold through the mirror dimension.

She sighed.

The dragons—what was left of them—were dead.

The paper box had been a portal to another world.

And now, that portal was gone forever.

Time passed again.

James now stood in the center of a lecture hall, SCP-1762-1 held in his arms.

Doctors surrounded him. Dr. Kondraki. Dr. Clef. Others.

"This is the final document obtained from SCP-1762-1," James announced.

He unrolled a papyrus scroll, revealing a hand-drawn landscape. Waterfalls. Trees. Mountains. A dragon flying in the distance.

In the corner, handwritten in ink:

"The master said we will not see you again. We are sad. So are others."

"We were full of dreams and ideals. But we can no longer share them."

"The master said we must leave. He said he would create a new fantasy world. But you cannot be part of it."

"We are sad. We love you. We will never forget you."

"We are scared… will you forget us?"

James read the final words slowly, his calm voice at odds with the emotion in his eyes.

A pause.

Someone on stage spoke. Dr. Bo Wang.

"And then?"

James nodded. "After document 1762-18 was removed, saltwater began to leak from SCP-1762-1. The burn marks disappeared."

He took a deep breath. "Three minutes later, the box returned to its original state. Except… the words changed."

"Where Was the Dragon."

The room fell silent.

No more messages. No more dragons.

Just a memory now.

"So, SCP-1762 was a creation of a Level 4 reality bender," one doctor confirmed. "And it's been neutralized after its creator died?"

James hesitated, then smiled faintly.

"It's more like… a story about a lonely kid, sitting in an empty attic, imagining he had a friend. A friend who went on ten fantastic adventures that will never exist."

The doctors exchanged glances.

Then they nodded.

"Request for Neutralization of SCP-1762: Approved."

James nodded in return.

He reached into his coat and brought out the red origami dragon.

Someone had reattached the yellow tape to its wing.

But it didn't move.

It just lay in his palm, quietly.

"I request to keep SCP-1762-2… as a keepsake."