SCP-3973 Alpha

The Encounter

As the space marine crests the hill, a vista unfolds before him—a city, quaint and quiet, nestled in the valley below. It's a stark contrast to the towering hive cities of his home world, lacking their imposing spires and the ever-present smog of industry. This city breathes, its skyline punctuated by greenery and the gentle flow of a river that cuts through its heart. 'Oh, I am definitely not on the battlefield I was in nor or on any imperial world.' He thought.

He descends towards the outskirts, his massive form casting a long shadow on the ground. His armor, a relic of a far more brutal universe, gleams under the sun, etched with the scars of countless battles. The plasma pistol and chainsword, symbols of his status as a warrior of the Adeptus Astartes, hang at his side.

The people of the city stop and stare as he approaches. They've never seen anything like him—a giant clads in power armor, armed for war. Whispers turn to murmurs "'Yo, who is this guy?", murmurs to shouts "Wow! What is that?!". Children point, adults retreat. The space marine is an anomaly, a being from a myth they've never heard.

A crowd gathers, a mix of fear and fascination in their eyes. Phones are raised, pictures taken, the modern world's attempt to document the inexplicable. The local authorities arrive, their vehicles flashing blue and red, a stark contrast to the marine's grim visage.

He speaks, his voice a deep rumble amplified by his helmet's vox-grill. "I am battle brother Gunnar Innard, part of the Ultramrines chapter, a servant of the Emperor," he declares, but his words are met with confusion. There is no Emperor here, no Imperium. Just a world unprepared for the likes of him.

The commotion grows, a cacophony of sound and movement. The space marine stands firm, a bastion of calm in the storm. He's a warrior without a war, a guardian without a charge. But he's also a symbol of something more—strength, resilience, the indomitable spirit of humanity.

And so, in the outskirts of this small city, the space marine waits. For what, he does not know. But he's ready—for battle, for peace, for whatever this new world has to offer. While he is still processing what to do next, an authority asks if he can follow him. His faced grimaced as the authorities wear uniforms but no flak armor. He doesn't understand why but he recognized that any tactical knowledge is what he needs right now. He nods to the authority.

He follows the authority, his heavy boots thudding on the ground with each step. The armored vehicle before him is sleek and modern, a design he's unfamiliar with, yet it bears the unmistakable mark of military purpose.

With a hiss of hydraulics, he climbs into the vehicle, the metal groaning under his immense weight. The vehicle's suspension dips, but it holds. Inside, the space marine towers over the human occupants, his presence an imposing reminder of his otherworldly origin. "Dang, your heavy!" exclaims the driver. She sounded generally surprised as if the armor was a costume or something.

The journey is silent, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of the radio. The marine's eyes never stop moving, taking in every detail, every potential threat. The cityscape gives way to less populated areas, and eventually, to a facility that seems to vanish into its surroundings—a structure designed to be unseen.

The marine steps out of the vehicle, his weapons at the ready, but there is no immediate threat. Instead, he's met with curiosity and caution, a reflection of his own wariness. He's led through corridors lined with reinforced doors and observation windows. Behind them, he catches glimpses of the anomalies contained within—entities and objects that defy explanation. The marine's grip on his chainsword tightens. He's faced the horrors of the galaxy, but these... these are different.

The personnel speak in hushed tones, their words laced with a respect born of fear. They know the dangers they guard against, the thin line they walk between knowledge and catastrophe.

Gunnar knows that he is an anomaly himself, a being from a reality where the supernatural is the norm, where gods and monsters wage eternal war. Here, he's a relic, a reminder of what lies beyond the veil of reality.

As he's debriefed, the marine listens, his mind racing. He's a long way from the Imperium, from the Emperor's light. But he's still a warrior, still a guardian. He'll adapt, he'll learn, and if necessary, he'll fight. He also comes to learn that the people here within the facility is called the SCP Foundation. Their motto is 'Secure, Contain, and Protect.'

Because no matter where he is, no matter the universe, his duty remains unchanged—to protect humanity, to stand against the darkness, to be the shield and the sword. 

For the Emperor. For the greater good of Humanity. He will be their bastion.