The relentless clatter of typewriter keys echoed through Dr. Lewis' lab. Each metallic strike carried a strange tension, as though the machine itself were trying to scream.
The audience in the live broadcast could feel it — SCP-3043 was panicking.
On the sheet of paper, letters appeared rapidly:
[SCP-3043: Wait a f*g second]
Murphy stood motionless, his Magnum steady. He waited. The typing slowed, like the anomaly was trying to think.
[SCP-3043: Well, it looks like this]
[SCP-3043: I will wipe myself]
[SCP-3043: I will erase all files about me and from everyone's mind]
[SCP-3043: I will make sure my file only says the lab is off-limits. That will contain me]
The live chat erupted with incredulous comments.
"Is this thing… negotiating?"
"That's not just a typewriter. There's definitely something sentient in there."
"No way the detective's buying this… right?"
"Don't forget — Murphy's an anomaly too. What if he sides against the Foundation?"
The stakes hung heavy in the air. Murphy was the only one who could stop SCP-3043 now. If he betrayed them, the breach could spiral out of control.
The narrator's voice bled into Murphy's thoughts:
3043 could do it. Maybe it's a trick… but maybe it's not. Letting it live feels like the good-guy move.
Murphy's voice was calm: "This is the right thing to do, right?"
The typewriter hammered the keys so fast it almost smoked.
[SCP-3043: Yes!]
It kept going:
[SCP-3043: You want to be a hero, right?]
[SCP-3043: That's it. You are a hero.]
[SCP-3043: Then do the heroic thing.]
Viewers leaned forward, convinced Murphy had been swayed.
Then — BANG! BANG!
Two deafening gunshots split the air.
The narrator's tone shifted into something cold and final:
Heroes always do the right thing. But me?
The screen faded to black. For a long second, the entire Marvel world went silent.
Then—BOOM!—the chat exploded. Murphy hadn't spared it. He'd destroyed SCP-3043 without hesitation.
At Stark Industries, Tony Stark laughed in disbelief. "Damn it, this guy's a master at pretending!"
Colonel Rhodes chuckled. "Didn't see that coming."
At S.H.I.E.L.D., agents talked excitedly. Even Nick Fury's usual sternness softened into a smile.
"An anomaly helped the Foundation contain a Keter-class threat. Not something you see every day."
Natasha smirked. "Guess not everyone plays the role they're assigned. Murphy's definitely one of a kind — like James."
---
Kamar-Taj
The Ancient One watched her apprentices cheer. She sighed, relieved.
SCP-3043 wasn't a physical powerhouse like SCP-682, nor did it possess the sheer cosmic horror of other Keter-class entities. It only had one anomalous property — the ability to edit reality.
But even that was enough to give her a headache. Had it manifested freely in Marvel's reality, even she could have ended up like Dr. Lewis — unaware she was being controlled.
---
The Observer Dimension
High above all worlds, Uatu the Watcher stared silently.
It wasn't 3043 that disturbed him — it was Murphy.
"This man comes from the lower narrative… yet moves freely in the upper one?"
3043 had been the "author" of this reality's events. But Murphy had arrived, rewritten the script, and erased the author itself.
That meant Murphy could shift between narrative layers at will — something even Uatu had never achieved.
The Watcher's gaze deepened. This was the ability he had coveted for centuries.
---
EXT. CITY STREET — SUNSET
Murphy stepped out of the lab into the amber light, cigarette between his lips, Magnum holstered.
I'm not a hero, the narrator purred. I'm Lu Murphy.
The image dissolved into:
---
INT. DR. LEWIS' LABORATORY
Dr. Lewis stood before the typewriter. Smoke curled from two fresh .44-caliber holes in its casing.
She pulled the sheet from its roller. The conversation was still there, but at the bottom, one last line had appeared:
I'm just the person you call when everything goes wrong… it's true.
Beneath it, in fresh ink:
[SCP-3043: END]
---
SITE-95 OFFICE
James sat at his desk, calmly reading a file.
August stood beside him, cigarette smoke curling lazily around his silhouette.
James finally asked, "Where's SCP-3043?"
August smirked. "Neutralized." He handed over a new file.
> Item #: SCP-3043
Object Class: Neutralized (formerly Safe)
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-3043 is stored in a secure locker. Access restricted to Level 3 personnel.
Description: 1937 Olympia Elite typewriter. Two .44-caliber bullets embedded in its casing. Before neutralization, SCP-3043 could rewrite any physical document in its vicinity to match the content typed on it.
Incident 14-12-2005: Containment breach blocked all external communications for three hours. All affected personnel have no memory of events in that window. All SCP-3043 files were found "updated."
---
The chat exploded again.
"Neutralized?! Just like that?"
"Was the whole thing a lower narrative, or reality?"
"Doesn't matter — Murphy can bend reality!"
Natasha frowned. "So… upper narrative or lower?"
Fury leaned back. "Or maybe Murphy flattened reality into a story. Ever think of that?"
The idea hit the agents like a thunderclap. The more they thought about it, the more it fit.
But Fury wasn't here to debate 3043 — James' mission wasn't about the breach at all. It was about Lu Murphy.
---
James lowered the SCP-3043 file and looked at August. "How much do you know about Murphy?"
August thought for a moment, then handed over another folder. "Dr. Thaum's done more research. We haven't been able to contain him. We call him SCP-3143."
James' eyebrows rose. "Euclid?"
"Yeah. Too little data. No successful containment. That's all we've got."
James smirked. "A Euclid that can end a Keter… interesting."
---
Inside, the file read:
> Item #: SCP-3143
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Monitor online fiction for signs of SCP-3143's presence. If found, the Pataphysics Department will attempt deconstruction.
Description: SCP-3143 is an intra-fictional construct capable of temporarily "flattening" reality into a scripted narrative, typically in the style of hard-boiled detective fiction.
James leaned back in his chair, the wheels of thought turning.
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