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Emergency United World Summit
— The Night the World Changed —
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Geneva, Switzerland – United Global Crisis Hall
The grand hall in Geneva pulsed with dread.
Its architecture—once a symbol of unity—now felt like a tomb.
Over 150 world leaders, defense ministers, envoys, and crisis experts filled the long, crescent-shaped rows beneath the arched ceiling of the United Global Crisis Summit. The air was cold and metallic, the lighting clinical. But no one noticed. Every eye was fixed on the massive LED panels hanging overhead, cycling through apocalyptic footage.
Screens flickered with collapsing cities. Blackened skies. Silent screams caught in slow-motion as fire and honeycombed death fell from the heavens. Swarms—endless, buzzing swarms of bee-like horrors—tore through skylines like paper.
New York. Delhi. Lagos. São Paulo. Tokyo.
Gone.
The footage paused.
A global death toll flashed:
2,318,011 dead.
And rising.
No one breathed.
Then, a solitary figure stepped forward.
Elsa Volkova—Director of External Operations for the SCP Foundation—stood at the central lectern. Her black uniform was creased from 72 hours without sleep. Her platinum hair, usually immaculate, was tied back in a rough knot. But her voice? Her voice was steel.
She didn't clear her throat. She didn't ask for silence. She spoke—and the hall obeyed.
> Elsa (measured):
"This is not an alien invasion. This is a containment breach. SCP-59—'Hive Singularity'—has escaped Foundation custody. It has seeded swarms across six continents… in less than twenty-four hours."
The words hit like bombs.
Gasps. Shouts. Panic.
A translator choked mid-sentence. An aide fainted near the Russian delegation.
Chancellor Reinhardt of Germany stood abruptly, eyes wide with rage, his voice echoing through the chamber.
> Reinhardt:
"You had YEARS to prevent this! And you told NO ONE? Entire cities—WIPED OFF the map!"
Elsa didn't blink.
> Elsa (cold):
"We warned the UN seventeen years ago. You labeled us alarmists. You shut the door."
Silence followed. Not just silence—guilt. Several heads lowered. Others clenched fists beneath their desks.
Then, from the center, President Liu of China rose. His composure was legendary—even now, in the face of planetary collapse, his voice was calm.
> Liu:
"There's no time for blame. Tell us your strategy."
Elsa nodded. With a sharp gesture, the central screen shifted. A world map appeared—every continent now dotted with flickering red glyphs. Thirteen of them glowed brightest, pulsating like bleeding wounds in the crust of the Earth.
> Elsa:
"These are the Anchor Points. Manifestation cores where the dimensional rift is strongest. They are tethered to the Singularity Hive—likely extensions of its consciousness. If we destroy them, we sever the link. Without connection to SCP‑59, the swarm starves."
> Elsa (grim):
"But we must reach them first. Before the Hive finishes… adapting."
The U.S. Secretary of Defense, broad-shouldered and perpetually suspicious, leaned forward.
> Defense Sec.:
"How many operatives do you have?"
A pause.
> Elsa (quietly):
"Fifty."
The room exploded.
> PM Patel (India):
"Fifty?! For billions of lives?! That's suicide!"
> President Al-Sabah (UAE):
"That's not even enough to defend a single megacity—let alone the globe!"
> Minister Okoye (Nigeria):
"What, do they all command nuclear drones or something?!"
Elsa raised her voice—not loud, but commanding.
> Elsa:
"Because they are unlike anything your armies can field. The stones chose them. They can wield K-Energy."
Murmurs turned to stunned disbelief.
The lights dimmed. Spotlights illuminated the back of the hall.
Five figures stood.
They weren't dressed in formal attire or adorned with medals. They looked… human. But only barely.
Captain Jacks, tall and storm-eyed, with a presence that bent the air around him.
Kim, still as moonlight, his fingers twitching with invisible strings of energy.
Dr. Jain, watching the delegates like test subjects in a lab.
Mr. Okashun, half-smiling, as if this entire event was a dress rehearsal.
And Adi, silent and still, his crimson eyes glowing faintly like coals.
> Elsa:
"They are Beta- and Gamma-level anomalies. They can bend reality, teleport across battlefields, generate energy constructs, heal the dying, distort the flow of time. The stones awakened something ancient in them. And we'll need more like them."
> Ambassador Durand (France):
"You want us to entrust the future of our planet to… what? Super-powered children?"
> Elsa (firm):
"I want you to trust the only force that's actually winning."
The hall went quiet.
> President Liu:
"What do you require?"
Elsa tapped a button. A 3D model rose from the center of the room—an underground facility nestled deep in the Aravalli hills of India. Training chambers, barracks, containment zones. It glowed faintly with protective wards and SCP shielding tech.
> Elsa:
"A one-month global lockdown. Civilian shelters. Redeploy military units to defend K-Energy operatives en route to Anchor Points. And one more thing…"
She turned to face the entire hall.
> Elsa (resolute):
"We begin a new generation of warriors. Four years of training. First wave: gifted teens and children. India will host Year One."
The silence that followed was not disbelief—but horror.
> Prime Minister Patel:
"Children? You want to weaponize children?"
> Elsa:
"The Hive doesn't wait. These children can already access the energy. Better we train them—than wait for their deaths in the next swarm."
Gasps. Whispers.
Then, after a long pause, Patel stood again. His voice was quiet.
> Patel:
"India agrees. You'll have the land and protection. And… our prayers."
One by one, the others followed. China. France. Nigeria. Egypt. Brazil. Even nations usually opposed found rare consensus.
For one moment, the world stood united.
> Elsa:
"Then let's begin. The war for Earth… has begun."
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Scene Shift – Hidden Chamber Beneath the Summit
The summit ended. Lights dimmed. Leaders left with heavy steps.
But Elsa did not return to her suite.
Instead, she walked past a biometric scanner at the far end of the hall, down a spiral stairwell etched with Foundation runes, into a hidden vault far below Geneva.
Inside, the true command room of the SCP Foundation awaited.
Holograms danced in the air—models of swarm formations, live simulations of rift expansions, and quantum codexes.
A woman stood watching it all. Cloaked in deep green. Her presence heavier than gravity.
The President of the SCP Foundation.
Beside her, lounging across a floating divan, was a white-haired figure sipping from a massive bubble tea cup. His robes shimmered with void runes. His aura radiated mischief and ancient power.
> President (softly):
"You handled the summit well, Elsa. The world listens again."
> Lord (grinning):
"She's such a baddie when she's mad. I replayed the part where she shut Reinhardt up like five times. Chef's kiss."
> President (dry):
"You're a pervert."
> Elsa (deadpan, walking past):
"Good luck sealing the Anchors. I'm going to sleep for a month."
> Lord (stretching):
"Well then, time to go sprinkle some magic across the apocalypse."
With a flick of his fingers, he vanished—dust scattering like starlight.
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Montage – Magic Across the World
The white-haired Lord soared unseen through storm clouds, across burning forests, beneath ocean trenches.
At each Anchor Point—from the frozen glaciers of Alaska to the heart of the Congo, from an abandoned city in Siberia to a forgotten temple in Peru—he planted sigils.
In air. On earth. Beneath water.
His voice echoed in a language older than time:
> Lord (ancient tongue):
"Let the barrier rise. Let time slow. Let resistance form."
One by one, golden veils shimmered into life, wrapping the Anchor Points in ancient shields.
The first line of defense.
The first hope of survival.
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