The outpost was a charnel house. Blood streaked the walls, alarms keened through the flickering lights, and the echo of screams hung in the metal air. Mira staggered past the bodies of N3 units—friends, voices she'd heard at breakfast, now broken and emptied out on the floor.
Elias dragged her behind a barricade of overturned monitors. His hands shook as he forced a half-empty magazine into his sidearm. Mira's breaths came in short, shallow bursts. Elias (whispering): "Stay here. If you see it, run. Don't be a hero."
She nodded, but her eyes were fixed on the maintenance bay—the only hope left. Behind the shattered glass, the N1S unit hung limp, but the power nodes on its chest now glowed with a faint, steady blue.
A new voice cut through the chaos—flat, synthetic, and cold. N1S-17: "Activation complete. Directive: Neutralize hostile entity. Protect Foundation assets."
The N1S unit dropped from its rig, landing with a heavy clang that made the floor tremble. Black armor gleamed, neon lines burning with renewed life. It strode out, stepping over the corpse of Tech Ramirez without a pause.
Down the corridor, SCP-076-2 tore through the last of the I1C security detail. Limbs flew. Blood sprayed in arcs across the white tile. The anomaly spun, sensing the new threat. N1S-17: "Target identified. Engaging."
SCP-076-2 lunged, blade cutting the air. The N1S met the charge head-on, catching the anomalous weapon in one hand. Metal shrieked. The android's other arm shot forward, driving its fist through 076-2's chest with mechanical brutality. The entity convulsed, eyes wide, snarling in silent rage.
076-2 wrenched itself free, tearing its own body open in the process, and summoned another blade from the void. The N1S moved with inhuman precision, dodging, countering, each motion calculated and pitiless. When 076-2 slashed, the android's armor sparked but held; when the android struck, flesh and bone gave way.
Elias watched from behind cover, jaw clenched, blood drying on his hands. He felt no hope—just numb awe and exhaustion.
Mira, hands pressed to her mouth, watched the fight with hollow eyes. This was what real containment looked like: not heroism, but cold, necessary violence. Mira (hoarse): "Come on. End it."
The N1S forced 076-2 to the ground with a brutal twist, pinning the entity with a knee. Its forearm split open, revealing a containment spike—one final measure. With a sound like thunder, the spike drove through 076-2's torso, nailing it to the reinforced floor. N1S-17: "Subject neutralized. Awaiting confirmation."
076-2 spasmed, eyes rolling back. The anomalous body began to decay, flesh sloughing off, bones dissolving into dust. The N1S released its grip, stepping back as the containment vault's doors slammed shut, sealing the cell once more.
The alarms faded, replaced by the low, constant hum of emergency lockdown.
Aftermath
Jax limped into the aftermath, face pale, suit torn. He surveyed the carnage, then the survivors. Jax: "Sound off. Who's left?"
A handful of voices answered. Most didn't.
Elias helped Mira to her feet. She was shaking, tears streaking the blood on her face, but alive. Elias: "We made it." Mira: "Did we?"
Technicians in hazmat suits moved in, clearing bodies, patching holes, scrubbing blood from the walls. The Foundation's work never stopped—not for grief, not for relief, not for anything.
N1S-17 stood silent in the corridor, optic dimming as it powered down for diagnostics, arms stained red and black.
Jax placed a hand on the android's shoulder, then looked away. Jax: "Prep for transfer. Cube goes to main base as soon as the vault is stable. We're done here."
No one cheered. No one smiled. They had survived, but only just.
And as the black cube was sealed away, the survivors of Outpost Black Orbit felt the weight of what they'd endured—and wondered how long before something else would wake, hungry and unstoppable, in the dark.