Walking down the stairs, Shinji reminisced about the times he spent defying death across the multitude dimensions he wandered through during his younger years. Shaking his head, he reached downstairs, where Sakura stood, arms across, still wearing her signature pink bunny apron.
"It's 11 AM."
"Still breakfast."
"11 AM..."
"Look can I have my breakfast or not?"
"What'd you mean breakfast!? Can't you see how freaking late it is!?"
"Urgh, fine...I'll help you get what Shirou's favourite type is (if you know, ya know, *wink*, *wink*)."
Face changing faster than Chinese Opera's, Sakura quickly laid out a bowl of miso soup, some fried mackerel, a bowl of fresh fruit, and a huge bowl of rice. "I don't know what happened to you, but after that day, holy hell has your appetite increased like mad. What did you go through exactly...?"
Shinji kept quiet, for he knew that:
A) Sakura would not believe it, and
B) If any of those crackpots from the three colleges find out, he'd be pestered for life
Urgh, if only that old geezer was still around...
Sighing inside, he quickly finished his breakfast (read lunch), before heading out to the market, hoping to find some good deals on used parts. He knew better than most how much of a clusterfuck his world is...
Except, of course, that multiverse
Either way, he had a busy schedule today...
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Dragging along the large bags hung over his shoulder, Shinji walked home with ease. The only reason he acted pathetic was to show the town's residential cheapskate (and flat) Magician that he's no threat.
Sweating heavily, he wiped his forehead. Damn it, how long will that airport road monitor me– wait, he's here!
"Hey Shirou, how're you doing with Ilya? On a date...?"
As Shirou began denying his charge as a siscon (and lolicon), Shinji felt the eyes peering at him on the dark shift to Shirou. Sighing a breath of relief, he quickly the monitoring, heading to his secret base...
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"Phew, that should do it."
Wiping the grease from his forehead, Shinji threw the wrench to the side, satisfied with his creation. Though rough and primitive, the machine in front of him is instrumental to him. This was one of the only ways he could connect with his bank account in Thr'yst'oralyn, the City that Never Sleeps.
The nexus of the multiverse, this is where beings come from their world first meet up. From spices of Ty'ldarun, to the machinery of the Builders from the Church of the Broken God, all the way to Elven slaves and escorts, you can get anything from there.
Being one of the higher-ranked members of the city, it allowed Shinji and the Foundation to have access to a considerable amount of resources for their containment processes, most notably having the means to finally put an end to SCP-682's constant jailbreak. Even Methuselah, the High Vizier of the Daevites, did not have access to the city.
"Phew! That should do it. Now, to start up this bad boy– What the!?"
Just as he was about to start the machine, a sudden message popped up in his mind:
[Hello and welcome sir, I greet you as one of the newest members of the Multiversal Group Chat]
What new SCP is this!?