Bab 1: Life, Capture and Containment
I always knew I was unusual.
For one, I was a reincarnator. I'd recently died, losing the battle to cancer, and the next moment I opened my eyes, I was in a dark place and I instinctively knew: I was in the womb of my new mother. That I'd been reincarnated.
It was quite the shock, but nothing compared to what I found next: That I had a set of information in my head that spoke on how to bring my body under my conscious control. A guide to earning Body Supremacy. That by focusing the mind, body, and spirit towards one goal and by bringing all three into alignment, the physical enthusiast can bring all of them under conscious control.
The Hercules Method. A way of turning an ordinary human into the perfect killing machine, with enhanced senses, superhuman physical prowess and unnerving combat ability.
...At first I denied what it was. That I was just messed up mentally from being in a new body. But a nagging feeling kept pulling at me to practice what was in my mind. Looking back on it, I don't know why I was so against the idea that I'd have something like that.
I'd been reincarnated and yet I couldn't accept that I was reborn with a sort of cheat? I guess the shock of the whole situation got to me. Kinda felt like I got my cake and got to eat it too.
Eventually I followed that feeling and began to practice the method. At first, as a fetus, I was constantly in and out of consciousness - not to mention that most of it was blurry and I felt like I was constantly in a daze. Except for a scant few minutes where I could do what I wanted. During these minutes, I'd practice The Hercules Method. After a while, I began to lose those feelings of blurriness and dazedness - instead, those scant few minutes became dozens of minutes and then a few hours and then finally, other than sleeping a few hours, I was constantly in a state of clarity and focus.
Practicing was pretty hard in the womb but I figured out a way to do it by following the guide in my head. I'd close my eyes and focus inward, meditating until I could see three strings inside my mind. One represented body, one represented mind and the last one represented spirit.
When I first saw them, they were no thicker than spider silk. Thin, brittle, easily destroyed--but soon, I began to grow them. Entwining them together to make a stronger, thicker string.
The tighter I entwined the strings that represented me, the better I felt. The more energy my body had. I continued doing it until one day, I felt muscles squeezing me and rearranging my position so that my head was facing away from my mother's heartbeat. Then, after hours and hours of being squeezed and hearing my new mother's screams, I was born.
I remember the midwife who was holding me just looking down at me in a dazed shock. It wouldn't take long for everyone else to look at me as well, just staring dumbly at me. At first, I was afraid that I'd came out like some sort of ugly abomination.
But I needn't have feared for even a second. It turned out I was too perfect.
I was big for a baby and my body was, apparently, very hard to the touch. No doubt due to my body density being higher than any human could naturally have. But the biggest surprise, apparently, was the full head of golden blond hair I had and the brilliant green eyes I was sporting. That and the fact that I was without any blemishes or deformities - I remember hearing the person holding me commenting on how I was quite heavy, even for a baby of my size.
Fast forward a few years and I was only more perfect. I have a theory that practicing the Method in the womb did something more to my body than it would've normally done to any other human. I feel like it changed me more thoroughly than it ordinarily should have.
Fast forward to when I was 18. I'd become extremely attractive and handsome. I was a very tall (probably about 6'7"), very well-built elegant man with a compelling voice and overwhelming authoritative charisma. I possessed permanently flawless skin, perfect dentition, beautiful, wavy hair, "perfect golden-proportioned body," brawny and well-toned muscles, and most importantly, I was extremely "well-endowed".
Physically? I was beyond anything living. I'd once wrestled a Bull to the ground and killed it at the age of 12, and at the age of 18 I was strong enough to kill dozens of 12-year-old me's. I honestly felt like Yujiro Hanma. I was obscenely strong, fast, durable and with enough stamina to run a handful of marathons on the same day and still have gas in the tank.
I could control my muscles to harden and turn myself into a walking fortress, making any attacks that came at me basically useless. And even if I did get hurt? I could heal from any damage, just by willing my cells to heal.
I had conscious control over my entire body. And I was still growing stronger. Every day I'd meditate and practice the method for a few hours.
And everyday I'd grow a little bit stronger.
Life was good. I was at the top of my class, had a scholarship to a top-of-the-line College, had a few casual friends-with-benefits relationships with some of the hottest women in my town...it was all perfect. I was practically unkillable and I thought there was no one I wouldn't be able to take down in a fight.
Oh boy was I wrong. I was wrong big time.
It was a cool summer's night and I was just chilling, reading a book in the living room. The very next moment, a bunch of dudes rush into my house and start aiming guns at my family - they weren't soldiers and they sure as hell weren't MTF operatives like you may be thinking. They were robbers.
But the robbery went wrong. The robbers were on drugs, that much was obvious, and they were showing extreme paranoia. Any movements were met with them screaming for my family to not do anything, as if they were about to pull a gun or weapon on them. This all built up to one of the robbers pointing their gun at my parents and pulling the trigger after they thought my dad was reaching for a gun.
In the spur of the moment, I threw myself in front of my family and I took the bullets. They barely broke through my skin and were solidly stopped by my muscles. It wasn't hard to catch bullets in between my muscles with my level of control over my body.
Then, in a furious rage brought on by the attempt on my parent's lives, I killed the robbers with my barehands. At that point, it was already too late.
Even after expelling the bullets and healing the wounds over, my parents had already seen what I'd done. My shirt was covered in blood, had bullet holes in it and the bullets I'd expelled were covered in my blood. Not to mention that I'd dispatched three grown men with my barehands. I'd brutalized three people without any weapons, and I really do mean mutilated. Their bodies were ripped apart like a wild animal had been set on them.
The police arrived, my parents told them what happened, I was questioned and then I was taken to the station. I was pretty sure I'd have to make an escape and go live a life far away from society for the rest of my life. Or at least for a hundred or so years until the world forgot about me. I was an immortal now, after all.
After getting fed-up with being in this interrogation room, I got up, broke out of my cuffs and then out of the room and made my escape. I kept deaths to a minimum and mainly focused on knocking people out when they got in the way.
As I was leaving the building, however, I was fucking filled with tranquilizers.
I hadn't heard anyone within a hundred or so meters of the building and neither could I see anyone. Hell, I couldn't even smell anyone outside of the building.
By the time I fell to my knees, my body numb, I saw Humvees approaching and I consciously sped up the clearing of my body from the toxins in my system while I forcibly removed the tranqs with what little control I'd recovered. As the Humvees pulled up, I was shocked to see armed soldiers stepping out of them and pointing assault rifles at me.
Cleared off the numbness, I got up and charged at the first gap in their formation that I saw. They opened fire, more tranqs coming at me except this time none of them hit me seeing as I knew they were coming.
I ran. I ran so goddamn much. I forced my legs to keep pumping and moving but it was just never enough. There was always a helicopter waiting for me or Humvees chasing after me.
And it didn't take a genius to figure out I was being funneled and pushed toward a certain direction: Away from the public eye. I felt like a goddamn animal being poached by professional hunters - I didn't even get to sleep or eat. It was lucky that I didn't need to do either and it was more of a comfort/mental thing.
Sadly, there was only so much I could do before I was cornered and trapped.
The short of it was they shot me with enough tranquilizers that it was easier to count what they hadn't hit rather than what they had. I must've been filled with enough of the stuff to knock out a whole herd of elephants.
When I next opened my eyes, is where I am now. Within the first second of opening my eyes, I notice that I'm tied down with metal bindings and in the next moment, I notice the familiar symbol on the breast pocket of the person opposite me.
They were wearing a white lab coat over a simple outfit of black sweater, some denim jeans and some rather informal sneakers.
The person - a Caucasian woman with black hair and brown eyes - seemed glad with my awakening as she smiled and finished with fidgeting with her files and clipboard, "Good evening. How are you doing?"
I didn't answer. I was too busy looking at the symbol on her breast pocket and what it meant.
It wasn't just familiar to me. I definitely knew it. It was the symbol the SCP Foundation used.
"...Is this a joke?" I asked aloud, tilting my head to the side as I looked over at the only other person in the room. The person seemed confused by what I said but quickly composed herself and smiled.
"And what makes you think this is a joke?" she asked before tapping her clipboard, "You didn't think you were the only thing in existence that was special did you? That there wouldn't be an organization in charge of dealing with entities like you?" she asked, seemingly sincere in her curiosity. I listened to her heartbeat, smelled the chemicals coming off of her, used my enhanced vision to look at her micro-expressions...and I came to the conclusion she wasn't lying.
Which means I'm actually in the SCP Universe. One of them, at least. And I'm no doubt an SCP. An anomalous entity that needs to be secured and contained away from humanity.
A grin made it's way across my face and I leaned my head back against the metal surface I was secured against, a weak laugh escaping my throat, "So, because I'm different I get to be treated like a criminal?" I shook my head before going quiet. I'd keep my silence from now on while I thought about what I could do and say.
The doctor tried to have a conversation with me beyond what I'd just said but I didn't answer. I kept my mouth shut and my eyes closed. I was busy thinking about the utterly fucked up universe I now found myself in.
...Crazy to think that mentioning a specific SCP's appearance could make them appear and take me to some weird dimension that'd end in me either dying or living in pain for eternity.
096, 173, 682, 076-2...not to mention 610 and all the other nasty viruses out there. Or the literal Gods that hang out around certain places. The Hanged King, The Scarlet King, Moloch...and a tonne of other immensely powerful beings. I'd say 'Jesus Christ' but knowing he probably existed and was probably an SCP really takes the kick out of saying it.
I'm strong. I'm basically like Yujiro Hanma. But...when put up against Reality Benders and Unkillable Reptiles, I feel a bit weak. I guess I just need to push my training even further, huh? I only trained a few hours a day, strengthening the strings that made up my everything and entwining them more.
But now...now I need to do something more. I'll need to see what I can do with this ability. The upmost limits of it. Because if I don't...I'm probably gonna die.
. . .
~Three Months Later~
Slowly I opened my eyes, feeling the vibrations shaking through the steel cables keeping my containment cell suspended in mid-air. This was a new development - brought on after I'd escaped from their reinforced humanoid SCP containment cell.
I'd made a total of eleven escape attempts during my time in this facility. I'd made it outside of the facility and into the world during four of them.
I took it as a chance to get out and to get some fresh air. Even got some fast food while I was at it.
But it wasn't just for those luxuries. No, every escape attempt was a training program of sorts. Both to train me against certain situations and to test my progress in the Hercules Method. After all, during my entire stay here, I'd spent all of it in my cell, meditating. I didn't need to eat or sleep, which meant I could dedicate twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week to this endeavor.
And I was beginning to realize that practicing the Method inside the womb had changed me in ways it wouldn't have ordinarily have changed someone. What I mean by this is that most people practice the Hercules Method when they've already reached full maturity, or at the very least lived quite a few years as an ordinary human.
I, on the other hand, changed my body when it was in development as a fetus. Which in turn has gifted me with the ability to take my power further than any other practitioner of the Hercules Method.
After three months, I'd undergone a qualitative change. My bodily tissues were denser than before. Before, bullets and the like could penetrate my skin but not my muscles - now, they couldn't put a scratch on my skin unless they were above a certain caliber. My bones which already felt unbreakable had turned somewhat metallic in appearance after I began condensing them and now made my old bones look brittle in comparison. My muscles and nervous system had seen equally impressive improvements as well, making me truly a physical force to be reckoned with.
Which is why I would test myself again--Or that's what I was thinking of doing. Today was the day I'd try and break out after finalizing some of my changes. And yet someone else was making an escape, if my senses weren't lying to me.
I could 'hear' the screaming and the alarms, per se, but I could feel the vibrations coming into my room and from that point it was quite simple to 'decode' them, if I had to describe it.
Standing, I consciously stretched my muscles without even moving, eliciting cracks and popping sounds as my muscles stretched and my body got warmed up. Walking forward while this process continued, I emptied my lungs of all oxygen before rearing my fist back and slamming it into the metal door for my cell.
The door caved inward, it's hinges creaking and groaning as the force of a casual punch warped it.
It didn't blow the cell door off it's hinges or anything but it did enough for what I wanted to happen, to happen.
The door's caved in appearance was only made worse, even after I pulled my fist back, and unseen force working on it and stretching the door as frame gave one final groan before the door was sucked out of it's place along with all the air in the room. Not a second later the air that was sucked out of the room and into the vacuum buffer around my containment cell was sucked through vents and returned the containment cell into it's vacuum state.
I would've sighed if I had any air in my lungs. As it stands, I have enough oxygen currently in my bloodstream to carry on for another hour or two in this vacuum. Not that I was gonna stay that long, though.
Walking toward the drop off after my cell door, I looked across the twenty foot gap between my cell and the reinforced wall and rolled my eyes. As if they thought this was enough distance to stop me. I guess they were really betting on the vacuum idea, huh? Not that it's a bad idea considering what they know about me...it's just they don't know enough about me. If they did, they'd know it was a doomed idea from the start.
After all, even though I could feel the oxygen in my bloodstream beginning to expand and my blood beginning to boil, I suppressed it with my conscious control over my body and my biological processes. I reinforced all of my blood vessels by using my muscles to pressure them and keep them together - I couldn't allow them to pop just because of a little gas, could I? Doing this, I forcibly put the oxygen back into my blood and stopped it from expanding.
...I guess there's more anomalous stuff to me than just The Hercules Method, huh? Because I'm pretty sure I'm breaking some scientific laws right now.
Flexing my calves, I blasted over the twenty foot gap and slammed my leading foot into the outer door for my cell. The door bent in a little but obviously needed more 'oomph' before it packed in and gave way. Which is what happened after I sent a few dozen powerful punches and kicks into it within a few seconds of getting near it.
Air rushed to meet me and I took in a deep breath, my biological processes returning to normal now that I wasn't in a vacuum. The blaringly loud alarm was now heard by my ears and not just felt my sense of touch. I could also see the flashing red lights illuminating the hallway.
Dead bodies littered the floor, with a much too eager killer repeatedly slashing at a bunch of MTF operatives who were uselessly firing assault rifles at him.
Huh. So, it's this guy?
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone