James's words froze August in place.
For a moment, August thought James was referring to the humiliation of being outplayed earlier by Dr. Tamar, but the audience across the Marvel world understood the deeper meaning. James wasn't talking about insults or pride—he was talking about SCP-3143, the pataphysical anomaly that defied the very rules of reality.
Inside S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Nick Fury leaned forward, one eye fixed sharply on the screen. The director's jaw was tight, his thoughts racing. He wished more than ever that the surveillance and intelligence systems of his past lives had some way to provide a narration for James's actions, a window into his mind.
"What exactly is the problem here?" Fury muttered.
Though Fury didn't believe Murphy Luden—better known in pataphysical terms as Lu Murphy—could be destroyed so simply, the situation looked bleak. Dr. Tamar seemed to have seized control.
The image shifted again.
More than two months passed.
When Dr. Tamar walked toward James, arrogance written all over his face, he declared, "Today will be the last interview. After this, the O5 Council will approve the containment application."
James, calm as ever, simply replied: "Congratulations, Doctor."
The response was so disarmingly polite that Tamar faltered, as if he had punched cotton. His smugness cracked, and he stormed into the interview chamber with a scowl.
Inside, Murphy Luden sat waiting. His posture was calm, his expression different from before—no trace of fear or confusion. He looked like a man who had already accepted his fate.
Snap!
The door shut behind Tamar as he entered.
"Good morning, Mr. Luden." Tamar feigned civility. "I see from your progress that you haven't eaten yet. Would you like to talk first?"
Murphy shook his head. "No."
Tamar smirked, "I also understand you tried to keep writing stories about SCP-3143."
Murphy's voice hardened. "Until you took my pencil away."
The doctor gave a condescending smile. "It's for your safety. Until we understand this anomaly, we cannot allow—"
"Oh, screw you," Murphy cut him off sharply. "You think it's trash."
"I didn't say that."
"But you're thinking it, aren't you?" Murphy's gaze pierced through him.
"I wouldn't call it garbage," Tamar lied smoothly.
Murphy leaned forward, frowning. "Why stop the story? He's helping people. The stories matter."
"That's not the point," Tamar snapped. "We can't have anomalies running free—"
Murphy interrupted again, sharper now. "What else then? You don't like the story because it's not yours?"
The words hit Tamar like a knife. His mask of confidence wavered.
Murphy pressed harder. "You hide behind objectivity, behind fake distance, trying to make the unreliable look credible."
Tamar's face paled. "Wait, what—"
"You bury yourself in titles, interviews, reports," Murphy said, relentless. "Superficial trinkets of science, just to make it seem respectable. But it's nothing more than a scam, Doctor. Another gimmick. Another con."
The live broadcast exploded with shock.
The Foundation site, once sharp and real, suddenly wavered. Walls, tables, even Tamar's figure blurred into rough sketch lines. Reality itself bent under Murphy's words.
The Marvel world gasped.
Reality collapsed from the "upper narrative" into the "lower narrative."
Audiences worldwide were stunned.
"Oh my god—what just happened?"
"This… this is the world of a lower-level narrative!"
"Impossible… Murphy dragged him down!"
S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were speechless. Even seasoned operatives who had seen gods and monsters froze at the sight.
Natasha whispered, "Could it be… he compressed reality into a story?"
Nick Fury's voice was grim. "I'm afraid so. This is pataphysics in action. This is his home ground."
In Kamar-Taj, the Ancient One's eyes narrowed. She had thought Murphy's role as a mere "detective" limited his threat. Now she saw the truth: he could bend entire layers of reality.
Even she—the Sorcerer Supreme—would be vulnerable if pulled into his narrative domain.
High above, in the Observer's realm, Uatu the Watcher trembled. "Flattening reality, turning it into fiction… his power is terrifying." Yet, alongside his fear, desire burned in Uatu's gaze. He longed for higher narrative universes. Murphy represented a possible path.
On screen, the sketch-world unfolded. Murphy grabbed Dr. Tamar by the collar and snarled, "You're nothing but a horror story in a lab coat." He tossed the terrified man aside like garbage.
The audience felt a twisted satisfaction. James's earlier warning made sense: "This matter won't end easily." He hadn't been wrong.
The narration itself began to shift.
[Narrator: But if you get lucky—and play your cards right—you might just write your own story.]
Murphy lit a cigarette. His timidity was gone. What remained was grit, fearlessness, and conviction.
[Narrator: But that's not me. I'm not a writer. I am Lu Murphy. The one you call when everything goes wrong.]
With those words, reality snapped back.
The crisp light of the interview room returned. Dr. Tamar slumped in terror, staring at the table where the words [END LOG] were etched at the bottom of the transcript.
"F—K!!!" Tamar roared, slamming his fists.
Researchers rushed in with August at the lead.
"Where is he?!" August shouted. "You let him go?"
Tamar stammered, broken. "No… it's impossible. How could this—"
August seized him by the collar, fury in his eyes. The room was chaos.
Through the noise, James calmly walked to the narration logs. He flipped to the last page. His eyes narrowed when he found a file labeled [Edited].
Inside wasn't a transcript, but a cast list—like a playbill.
[Dr. Thaum played by… Thaddeus Thaum (Dr. Tamar)]
[Site Director August played by… Jeremiah Haugust (August)]
[Special Consultant James played by… James]
[Lu Murphy… played by himself]
[Special thanks to the Pataphysics Department]
The implications were chilling. The interview had become a stage performance, and everyone was nothing more than actors inside a story.
Viewers everywhere reeled.
"What the hell?!"
"Murphy was never just a prisoner… he's the author of his own stage!"
Even August, red with anger, demanded answers from James: "Any findings?"
James closed the file calmly. "Murphy broke under the pressure, but in that break, he became clear-headed. That's more dangerous than before."
August cursed. "Damn idiot! I should never have trusted Tamar's lies. Don't worry, James—he won't trouble you again. I'll have him removed!"
"Removed?" James raised an eyebrow.
"Yes," August snapped. "Even if the Council doesn't fire him, I'll see to it myself."
But then, August's communicator buzzed. The O5 Council. He answered with a trembling voice.
"It wasn't useless," he stammered. "This was a test run for the Pataphysics Department. They could be useful in allegorical and metafictional countermeasures. They're not costly to maintain. My recommendation—keep them."
He glanced at James, guilt flashing in his eyes. "Yes… SCP-3143 remains missing. He may have learned as much about us as we did about him. For now, containment must pause."
At last, August extended the communicator toward James with a pleading look. "They want to hear from you."
James stood silently, his presence alone carrying a weight greater than any words.
Because in that moment, it was no longer clear whether James was just an observer in this story—
Or whether he was the supreme god above them all.
--------------------------
Visit our Patreon for more:
Get membership in patreon to read more chapters
Extra chapters available in patreon
patreon.com/Dragonscribe31
----------------------------------------------------- .