(This will be a long chapter since 5 of us write this)
The underground commons of Site D-2 had been temporarily transformed.
The metallic gray walls were draped with decorative lights, some anomalous in origin, SCP-914 had helpfully crafted a batch that pulsed to the music.
Someone had even crudely hand-painted a banner:
"WELCOME TO THE FOUNDATION, YURI!"
The words were slightly crooked, the colors mismatched, but it was perfect.
Yuri stood at the entrance in quiet awe, clutching her mug of fizzy, SCP-294-brewed tea.
She looked out over the strange family gathered: humans and anomalies, Sinners and researchers, Foundation veterans and newcomers, all mingling in one improbable celebration.
"Charon wants juice" the small, monotone girl announced as she approached the refreshments table, staring deadpan at a jar of bright orange punch.
"Oh, uh, that's not juice," a researcher cautioned.
Charon stared, then looked at the liquid again. "It goes vroom-vroom in your brain."
Then she poured herself a cup.
Nearby, Vergilius stood, arms folded, leaning against a pillar with his gladius sheathed at his side.
He surveyed the chaos with his usual scowl, only softening slightly when Charon shuffled back to him with her drink.
"Did you make any trouble?"
"Nope." Sip. "Charon was normal."
"...Disturbingly accurate," he muttered.
At a round table not far off, Don Quixote had SCP-999 curled on her lap like a delighted kitten. She was radiating joy.
"HA HA! Oh, what blessed nectar flows through thy orange form, Slime of Splendid Smiles! Dost thou live only to bring joy to warriors?!"
SCP-999 burbled happily, its mass vibrating with amusement.
A few other Sinners stared in horror at how quickly Don's entire personality had cranked to eleven.
"Can it even be weaponized?" murmured Ryoshu to a passing researcher.
"It has" the researcher said, sighing. "It took down SCP-682 once. I wish I were kidding."
At another table, Hong Lu was sitting across from a member of MTF Zeta-9, a tall woman with feline ears, a twitching tail, and sharp, luminescent eyes.
Hong Lu leaned forward, unblinking.
"So... are you born this way too? Or is it, like, a virus? Did someone graft cat DNA into your—"
"No," the cat-eared operative replied calmly, sipping her drink. "It's genetics. And no, you can't touch the ears like what you did to Nina."
"Aww" he pouted. "They look so soft."
Clef had commandeered a small corner for his guitar, casually strumming out an old folk tune.
A few researchers hummed along, and even Dr. Gears paused to nod in rhythm.
Iris stood nearby, watching Clef with a faint smile until she felt a coat draped over her shoulders.
Kay stood next to her, holding two cups.
"Hot cocoa. Not from 294, real one this time."
"Thanks" Iris said, accepting it. "You didn't have to."
"Didn't have to do a lot of things" Kay replied, taking a sip of his own. "Still did."
She looked at him, then gave him a small, genuine smile. "It's nice. All this. I didn't think this place could feel like home again."
Kay tapped her cup with his own.
"That's the trick, kid. We make home wherever the madness leads."
Yuri, meanwhile, was seated between Cain and Bright, perhaps the most chaotic neutral placement imaginable.
"So..." Bright said with a grin. "First welcome party? You're not dead, corrupted, or turned into goo yet. Strong start."
Cain elbowed him gently. "Ignore him. He's been alive too long."
"I can see that," Yuri said, smiling awkwardly. "It's just... weird, y'know? I thought I left this life behind. All the violence. All the... Abnormalities. But this feels... right. Familiar, even."
Bright raised a brow. "Regretting it?"
"No. Not at all." Her fingers tightened slightly around her cup. "If anything... I'm relieved I'm not alone anymore."
That quiet truth hung in the air for a moment, until SCP-999 suddenly flopped onto the table, cheerfully sneezing orange goo into her drink.
Yuri blinked. "...Okay, now it's weird."
The room burst into laughter.
Suddenly, the lights dimmed, then focused on a drone floating in near silence.
Its black metal plating bore a sleek, minimalist insignia.
A voice, modulated and calm, spoke:
"We, The O5 Council, extend our acknowledgment to Yuri. You have proven yourself compatible with our operational philosophies. Welcome to the Foundation."
A beat. Then, awkwardly, the drone added:
"...Please enjoy the cake."
The lights turned back on. A cheer went up.
Even Vergilius cracked a smile, just barely.
...
The cake was wheeled in with far more fanfare than necessary.
It was an absurdly tall triple-layered monster, frosted with SCP-safe ingredients, glowing faintly at the edges.
Someone (probably Bright) had stuck sparklers in it.
The icing read:
"WELCOME YURI – GOOD LUCK NOT DYING"
"Subtle," Dr. Clef muttered as he finished tuning his guitar and slung it across his back. "Classy, even."
"I wanted it to say 'Welcome to Hell'" Bright offered cheerfully. "But Gears said that might be demoralizing."
"Indeed," Gears replied from across the room, sipping what appeared to be black coffee. "Though in fairness, statistically accurate."
The lights flickered again as the karaoke system booted up, courtesy of a jerry-rigged combo of Foundation tech, Sinners' scrounged components, and a suspiciously helpful AI from Site-19's archives.
A neon sign blazed on above the small makeshift stage:
🎤 KARAOKE ZONE – ALL SUFFERING IS OPTIONAL 🎤
Don Quixote was the first to volunteer.
With a foam sword in one hand and a scarf fluttering from her neck like a battle flag, she leapt onto the stage and bellowed into the mic:
"PREPARE THYSELVES FOR THE BALLAD OF HEROES!"
A heavily distorted medieval-style instrumental began playing, somewhere between bardcore and metal opera.
No one was sure if this was on the playlist or if Don had willed it into existence.
SCP-999 bounced beside her like a backup dancer.
The lights danced.
The chaos began.
At a nearby table, Ryoshu sat cross-legged on a folding chair, watching the karaoke with a blank stare and a lit cigarette.
"She sings with the fire of a deluded war goddess," she muttered. "Respectable delusion."
"Better than you'd do," Heathcliff muttered beside her.
Ryoshu smirked. "I could carve a better melody from a corpse's scream."
"Romantic" Kay commented dryly as he approached with Iris and Yuri.
He gestured to an open seat at the table. "Room for three?"
"Only if you bring snacks," Ryoshu said, flicking ash into a cup.
Yuri dropped into the seat beside her with a breathy chuckle. "This is so much. But I'm not complaining."
"Iris picked the playlist," Kay added, nudging her with a smirk. "So any weird 2000s hits? Blame her."
"Don't you dare!" Iris laughed, swatting him with a napkin.
...
Rimuru arrived fashionably late, to be fair, he still got a site to build under his nation, being a site director is not easy.
Wearing a sun hat with a simple white shirt, his form shimmered slightly between human and slime as he floated beside Kay.
"Yo, Kay!" he called out cheerfully. "This is the weirdest 'welcome to the job' party I've ever been to, and I've hired goblins before."
"Yeah, well," Kay replied, raising a glass. "This isn't HR orientation. This is the Foundation."
Rimuru gave a mock salute, then looked around. "So, where's the karaoke mic? I'm about to slime-sing some J-Pop."
Bright immediately stood up. "NO. That mic is mine. You will pry it from my cold, clown-honked hands."
Rimuru smirked. "Bring it, grandpa."
...
Meanwhile, Faust, who had been quietly conversing with Dr. Gears about the theory of multiversal constants, stood and walked toward the stage without a word.
She selected a slow, haunting instrumental and began to sing in an unplaceable language.
The room quieted.
Even SCP-999 stilled.
Her voice was surreal, echoing like something trapped between time and dream.
It was both beautiful and eerie, like a lullaby sung by the stars.
When she finished, there was a beat of silence.
Then loud clapping from Don Quixote: "'Twas GLORIOUS!"
Cain nodded appreciatively. "That was... haunting. In a good way."
"Better than my last date night," Bright added. "Which involved screaming goats and an extradimensional bar tab."
"Why does that not surprise me?" Yuri murmured.
Yuri's eyes flicked around the room again, soaking it all in:
Hong Lu trying to teach a cat-eared MTF operative how to waltz.
Heathcliff having a yelling contest with Clef about which 90s band "actually mattered."
Dr. Bright attempting to do the worm while 999 mimicked him with much more grace.
Don Quixote demanding a round table for knights, then using an actual folding table and plastic swords.
It wasn't normal. It wasn't safe.
But it was real.
"I think I might actually survive this job, the death rate is pretty high actually" Yuri whispered to herself.
Kay, standing nearby, heard her. He leaned down.
"Good. Because we're just getting started."
...
As the music shifted to a lo-fi synthwave remix of a song no one could identify, Rimuru leaned against a wall near the stage, arms crossed, watching it all.
"Ciel," he said quietly. "This is definitely... something."
[Affirmative.]
[The atmosphere suggests a 97.2% probability of 'bond-strengthening ritual via social chaos.']
[Also known as: a party.]
Rimuru smirked. "Thanks, Ciel. Real enlightening."
[You're welcome. Would you like me to analyze the structural integrity of that dancing table?]
He looked over at Don Quixote and Heathcliff sword-fighting with baguettes on said table.
"...Nah. Let them be."
Elsewhere on the floor...
Iris had pulled Kay onto the dance area, much to his half-hearted protest.
"I don't dance," he said.
"You fight anomalies with a butterknife and you don't dance?" Iris shot back.
"...Point."
Kay moved surprisingly smoothly once the beat dropped, his mask bobbing slightly as he spun Iris around with ease.
Ryoshu watched from a corner, cigarette between her fingers, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"Cute" she muttered.
"Should I file a report?" Faust asked beside her.
"Report what?"
"'Subject Kay, despite mask and emotional suppression, demonstrates competent rhythmic movement. Possible anomaly?'"
Ryoshu laugh out loud.
Back at the wall, Rimuru held out his hand, and with a shimmer of magic, a small duplicate body of himself emerged beside him, Ciel taking form in a sleek, female-coded body dressed like a well-dressed secretary.
A few nearby MTFs choked on their drinks.
"Gentlemen," Ciel said with a slight bow, "I'll be assisting Lord Rimuru's observation of your fascinating interdimensional operations."
Dr. Gears approached, clipboard in hand. "You're Ciel. A unique skill... with sapience and control?"
"Correct." She smiled politely. "And I'm intrigued by your use of extra-dimensional logic inhibitors. Primitive, but commendably stable."
"Thank you. Would you like to debate Hume fields?"
"I'd love to."
They walked off mid-sentence, speaking at a speed only two hyperintelligences could follow.
Meanwhile, Rimuru walked past several researchers and joined the conversation circle near Yuri, Kay, and Vergilius.
"So," he asked, grinning, "how's she doing?"
Yuri blinked. "Me?"
"Yeah. First Foundation party's a lot to take in. I figured you'd either be dancing or hiding."
"...Option C: existentially hovering near the food table."
"Classic" Rimuru said. "Want me to show off a trick?"
Without waiting for a yes, he snapped his fingers.
A swirling, perfectly chilled fruit sorbet appeared in midair, served in a bowl of ice that shaped itself into a tiny slime form.
It jiggled. It smiled.
"Goddess-tier dessert crafting" he declared proudly.
Yuri stared. "I love you."
"That's normal" Kay deadpanned.
Vergilius, from nearby, raised an eyebrow. "And your purpose here is...?"
Rimuru gave a disarming shrug. "Interdimensional relations. Plus, Kay invited me. I never turn down parties with karaoke, chaos, and probability of multi-world anomalies. Also, i'm the new site director!"
Vergilius scoffed. "Hm. You'll fit in just fine."
Onstage, Bright had finally gotten the mic again.
"This one's for the lovebirds, the weirdos, and that guy with cat ears who tried to sell me moonshine," he announced.
Then began a screechy rendition of "Bohemian Rhapsody" backed up by SCP-999 playing air guitar with two of its pseudopods.
In the crowd:
Hong Lu had somehow ended up with glitter on his face and a disco ball above his head.
Clef was teaching a group of Sinners how to limbo using an MTF baton.
Don Quixote declared SCP-999 her squire and began choreographing a knighthood ceremony.
Ryoshu filmed everything on a stolen researcher's phone.
And Rimuru?
He pulled Yuri into a twirl, light, harmless, just to get her smiling.
She didn't resist.
"Not bad, New Girl" he said.
"You're new too" she replied with a blush, catching Kay smirking at her nearby.
The lights dimmed.
The crowd cheered.
Ciel reappeared beside Rimuru and offered a dry note:
[Observation: Foundation staff experience 60% morale boost when exposed to structured absurdity. Recommend repeating anomaly-interactive festivities monthly.]
Rimuru laughed.
"Now that's a report I can get behind."
...
The lights dimmed just a bit too much.
The music slowed, warped.
For a second, it felt like the world held its breath.
Then: a ripple of cold static swept through the facility, like a hundred radios losing signal at once.
The dancing stopped.
Even SCP-999 paused mid-squish atop Don Quixote's head.
"Uhh... anyone else feel that?" Bright muttered, looking up.
A faint shimmer coalesced in the air above the party, nine glowing drone-like constructs in the shape of smooth, hovering monoliths, each surrounded by a shimmering field of holographic distortion.
Thin beams of light shone downward like spotlights, scanning the room.
O5-1: "Observation Mode: Engaged."
O5-3: "Continue. Do not mind us."
O5-6: "Dr. Bright, keep your pants on this time."
"I am wearing pants!" Bright protested. "For once!"
Rimuru blinked. "You weren't kidding about the O5s being dramatic."
Kay nodded, folding his arms. "That's tame, honestly."
Don Quixote gasped and dropped to one knee. "O mighty voices of fate! Ye specters of sacred governance! Dost thou come bearing divine revels!?"
The drones hovered silently.
O5-4: "...What?"
O5-12: "Is she... normal? I don't understand..."
Vergilius, dry as always, gave a mocking bow. "So the ghosts of bureaucracy arrive."
Faust took a sip of tea from nowhere. "Ah. We are being reviewed. Fascinating."
Ciel raised a hand politely. "On behalf of Lord Rimuru and myself, greetings. Please direct inquiries to our shared neural bank."
O5-7: "We know who you are. Continue mingling. This is simply oversight."
Then, without another word, the drones began gently rotating overhead, watching, analyzing, but not interfering.
The party slowly resumed, albeit with an uptick in posture and suppressed mischief.
Yuri sat on a bench near the punch bowl, cradling a drink she wasn't sure was soda or something anomalous.
Kay sat beside her, mask turned slightly in her direction.
She sighed. "That was a lot of weird all at once."
"You handled it like a champ" Kay said casually, setting down his own drink.
"Rimuru's body double, the talking skill, that guy in a top hat arguing with an actual shadow... I don't know how you do this every day."
Kay leaned back, glancing at her. "You get used to it. Eventually it's the normal stuff that feels off."
Yuri laughed softly. "Like regular food. Regular beds."
"Regular people."
She looked at him. "Do you ever get tired of it?"
There was a pause. Then Kay replied, voice low.
"...Yeah. Sometimes. But then I remember why I do it. Who I protect. The people who can't walk through this madness without losing themselves."
Yuri watched him for a moment. "You really care, huh?"
He nodded. "Not about the politics. But people like Iris. Like you. Yeah."
Yuri looked away, hiding a smile. "...Thanks for inviting me."
Kay stood and held out a hand. "Come on. Rimuru's about to start a conga line with the catgirl division. Can't miss that."
"Oh god."
"Too late."
...
Rimuru, glowing slightly, led a conga line of:
Three cat-eared soldiers from the Gate world
Hong Lu, who was holding a glowing staff like a light saber
SCP-999, who was bouncing like a bongo drum
Clef with a guitar over his back, adding music as they moved
Bright, naturally, trying to ride a Segway through it
Rimuru waved to Yuri and Kay.
"JOIN US OR BE JUDGED!" he shouted gleefully.
"Peer pressure is a real thing," Kay muttered before sighing and stepping into the line.
Yuri followed—laughing for the first time in a while.
Overhead, O5-1 spoke quietly.
O5-1: "Let the record show... morale has increased."
O5-9: "Initiate proposal: Monthly integration events with anomalies."
O5-5: "...God help us all."
O5-13: "...i still wanna join them..."
O5-2: "Oh please 13, you know our job"
O5-13: "Alright, man, you guys are no fun..."
O5-11: "Is he...pouting?"
O5-13: "I'm not!"
O5-4: "...i wanna squeeze his cheek..."
O5-13: "Hey! Why are you doing that!? Go back to your place!!!"
O5-1: "Aw, don't be so cold now 13~, sorry for making you feel lonely"
O5-13: "I am an O5! Stop treating me like a kid!"
O5-12: "We all love you 13, don't hate us okay? Here, a candy"
O5-13: "I SAID DON'T TREAT ME LIKE A CHILD!!!"
...
The clock ticked past midnight, but the underground halls of Site D-2 still glowed gently with a soft, amber light.
The party hadn't lost its momentum, just shifted into a quieter, more intimate tempo.
Music from Clef's guitar now carried a low, soulful tune, almost a lullaby for tired shoulders.
Chairs were gathered in half-circles, corners were claimed by quiet conversations, and half-eaten desserts sat next to glowing containment tablets and blueprints of multiversal gates.
The air was warm. Laughter still floated now and then, but so did the steady hush of people being... people.
A Curious Slime Lord and His Smart Shadow
The small, human-shaped slime lord lounged cross-legged in a beanbag someone brought in just for him.
His face glowed with delight as he levitated a glowing cube of SCP-914-processed pudding above his hand.
"This is fascinating. This pudding's structure is entirely altered... yet enhanced. Almost like the Magicule Manipulation Theory, but edible!"
Dr. Gears, seated near him, simply nodded. "It was processed on the 'Very Fine' setting. Reality alteration at a minor scale."
From beside Rimuru, a second identical Rimuru leaned back against a crate, this one a "copy," body formed by Rimuru's unique skill Ciel.
Unlike the relaxed main body, this one looked sharper, more analytical.
"I have analyzed over 300 anomalous signatures from your Foundation's database within the past hour. Fascinating constructs. This world's chaos is... organized."
"Ciel's my assistant-slash-simulation engine" Rimuru said with a grin. "Don't worry, she's not going to overwrite reality. She's just nosy."
Ciel spoke plainly, eyes glowing blue: "I simply wish to calculate how your world has not collapsed under the weight of your anomalies."
Dr. Clef barked a laugh. "Oh, trust me. We ask ourselves that every morning."
Elsewhere, Yuri sat on a bench outside the mess hall's soft glow, sipping warm soup from a thermos SCP-2295 had made for her earlier.
A clean bandage was wrapped carefully over her chin.
She didn't speak much, just quietly watched the others from a short distance.
"Mind if I sit?" Kay asked, his ever-present mask reflecting the overhead lights.
Yuri nodded. "...You don't talk much either."
Kay chuckled. "I try not to. Makes people think I'm cooler than I am."
She actually smiled a little.
"You settling in alright?" he asked.
Yuri was quiet for a moment. "I didn't expect people to be so... welcoming. I thought the Foundation would be colder. More like, well, like the places I worked before."
"Yeah, well... We deal with monsters. Doesn't mean we have to act like them." Kay leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You're one of us now. You don't have to carry everything alone."
The silence that followed wasn't awkward, it was full of understanding.
Not far away, Don Quixote had taken it upon herself to knight several researchers using her lance, much to the amusement of everyone.
"Rise, Sir Peabody, valiant wielder of clipboards!"
"Thank you, Miss Quixote," said the bewildered researcher, cheeks flushed.
Nearby, Faust and Gears were deep in debate over the potential mathematical correlation between Golden Bough signatures and temporal lattice anomalies.
Their conversation was punctuated by floating holograms and scribbled notebooks.
Hong Lu sat with an animal-eared woman from the Gate world, happily trading hair care tips and asking wide-eyed questions about elven life expectancy.
Ryoshu sat near one of the O5 drones stationed discreetly against a wall. She flicked a matchstick between her fingers.
"So, drone... ever feel like your life's a goddamn painting? One stroke away from being ruined?"
"...Huh?"
Just blinked.
Ryoshu took a long drag on her cigarette and smirked. "Didn't think so."
As the night wound down, Dr. Clef stood by SCP-999, who bounced up and down with visible glee, lighting the room with its pure joy.
"All right," Clef announced, slinging his guitar back into place. "One last song. Everyone, grab a drink, grab a friend. We're ending this night right."
He strummed a soft, nostalgic tune, gentle and wordless. It felt like sunlight through leaves, like warmth after rain.
Cain leaned against a support pillar, arms crossed, quietly enjoying the moment.
Iris leaned on Kay's arm, gently swaying with the melody, and even Charon tilted her head in a rare moment of open emotion.
Rimuru stood next to Gears, eyes soft. "You know," he said, "we were always at war back home. Monsters vs. humans. Factions. Gods. But this?"
"This is peace" Gears replied simply.
When the music ended, no one clapped.
They didn't need to.
The air was thick with something better than applause: belonging.
Dante, ever tired yet ever steady, stood and gestured gently. "Time to return to the road. Golden Boughs don't find themselves."
Charon rose wordlessly, oar in hand, eyes meeting Vergilius'.
The sinners gathered around.
No grand farewells, just nods, handshakes, and a few quiet smiles.
As Mephistopheles hummed to life outside Site D-2, Rimuru lingered a moment longer.
"I'll visit again," he said. "Once my site's done. Who knows? Maybe Ciel'll try to unionize your AICs."
Dr. Bright shouted from inside, "Good luck, they already hold the HR department hostage!"
Laughter followed Rimuru as he shimmered away into his slime form and zipped down the hall.
And so, the party ended.
But the warmth lingered.