They call it The Second Genesis.

The day the Breach came, the world didn’t end. It was remade. The oceans roared with leviathans that should have stayed in their cells. The cities burned under suns that weren’t in our skies before. And the dead… the dead came back with whispers in their mouths.

We thought we could contain them. We thought we could fight them. But the Binders were born, and so were the Projects. And now, survival isn’t about living — it’s about deciding what kind of thing you’re willing to become.

Ahhhhhh. Another glorious morning in the accursed world.

I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. The sunlight — if it is sunlight — spills across my face. It’s warm, gold… almost comforting, until you remember that half the “sunrises” we get aren’t from the real sun. Sometimes it’s just something big and bright moving slowly in the sky, too far away to fight, too close to ignore. I don’t know if today’s one of those days, and honestly? I’m not climbing up the barricades to find out.

Outside, somewhere past the rusted gates, there’s the faint sound of groaning metal. Could be the wind. Could be something hungry. I roll onto my side, deciding that’s a problem for the people who actually get paid to care.

At least I didn’t wake up screaming this time. No claws reaching through my dreams. No black-eyed children standing at the foot of my bed whispering numbers. That counts as a win in my book.

"Hey, Gifted!!!"

The voice rips through the stillness of my room like a whip crack.

And that… is my elder sister. The strongest person I know. Not “strong” like she can carry a fridge — though she probably could — but strong in that way that makes people shut up when she walks into a room. She’s a Binder. One of the few who can take the madness and the monsters and bend them without breaking herself. I’d call it a gift, but I’ve seen enough of what it does to people to know it’s more like a curse with good PR.

"Hey, idiot, get your ass down here and get the dishes done!" she yells. "I’ve got to lead a raid outside the stronghold and I’m not leaving without a proper meal!"

She means that. When she says “proper,” she doesn’t mean tasty. She means not rations. Actual food is rare enough that if we have it, it gets eaten before it even cools. And if she’s leading a raid, the kitchen turns into a war zone before the raid even starts.

I sigh and push myself off the bed. The air smells faintly of burnt metal — one of the Projects must be running drills in the yard again. The floor under my feet is cold concrete, smooth in some places, cracked in others. My room’s walls are covered with scraps: old posters, half a map of the old city, and a few faded photos of people I barely remember.

When I step into the corridor, the hum of the stronghold greets me. Generators rumble in the distance. Somewhere down the hall, a baby’s crying. Someone else is shouting about a missing tool. It’s the usual chaos — alive, but only just.

I pass the window slit in the hallway and glance outside. The barricades are still there, jagged walls of scavenged steel and reinforced concrete. Beyond them, the world’s a blur of dust and shadows. Far away, something moves. Too big to be a person. Too slow to be human.

Kitchen’s on the lower level. By the time I get there, she’s already in her gear: black plates of scavenged armor, a rifle slung across her back, a jagged blade at her hip. The blade hums faintly — probably cut from the carcass of something that used to be in containment.

She looks up, gives me that smirk that says she’s two seconds from insulting me.

"You look half-dead. Again."

"Thanks," I say, grabbing a stack of dirty bowls. "I worked hard on it."

She doesn’t laugh, but I see the corner of her mouth twitch. That’s the closest thing to affection I’m getting today.

"Be ready," she says. "If the gate alarms go off, get to the shelters. And stay there this time."

"Last time I—"

"Last time you tried to ‘help’ and almost got pulled into the street by a Skinner."

I shut up. She’s right. That thing’s claws had been inches from my face before the soldiers burned it down. My heartbeat still spikes when I think about it.

By the time the dishes are done, she’s gone, taking half the squad with her. I stand at the kitchen door for a moment, watching the last traces of her shadow disappear into the yard.

The day feels wrong. I can’t explain it. Maybe it’s the way the air tastes — sharp, like ozone before a storm. Maybe it’s the sound, too quiet except for the occasional creak from the walls.

The stronghold’s PA system crackles once. Silence. Then again.

I freeze.

A voice comes on — not the Commander, not anyone I recognize. Just a whisper, stretched thin, words tumbling over each other.

"The sun is wrong. The sun is wrong. The sun is wrong—"

The transmission cuts off.

The soldiers in the yard are staring up at the sky. I can’t see what they’re looking at, but whatever it is, one of them drops his weapon. Another starts backing toward the gate.

And then the alarm starts screaming.

Before I could even get a hold of what's happening, a sharp light tore through the air, i couldn't think, all I could feel was pain, the pain was beyond anything I have ever felt, it felt like my skin was rolling off my body, my head shook and my senses we flooded with pain, I couldn't scream, my lungs had being scorched immediately, my eyes had gone blind so fast it felt like I could never see in the first place, I couldn't hear anything, it felt like the sound in the air was gone, it felt like an eternity, my senses were overridden by pain, senseless pain.

I pleaded for death to come, but It still went on, it was like something was holding me back from dying, it felt like something was crawling into me, saving me from the grasps of death, but at the same time causing me so much pain, increasing my torment, it felt like days had passed, my body still bathing in endless pain and torture, my mind was broken down. All I could think of was death.

"Sir, there's being an incident

"what's that

"One of our scouts held outside the IRON HOLD, has being wiped out, sources say that, it was gone in an instant, no bodies were found, everything was burnt down.

"Hmm, SCPs going rampage and tearing down our scout outside isn't anything new, but tearing them down in an instant, that could raise an issue, call the others, we are having a meeting about this

"Sir yes sir.

Looking outside from the tall tower through a material that looks like glass, but isn't quite, the man let's out a sigh as he stands up

"is it one of the Enders.

(⁠┛⁠◉⁠Д⁠◉⁠)⁠┛⁠彡⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

"Awareness bled back into me with the taste of dust in my mouth. My vision wavered, the world slipping sideways as I lay on a tattered sheet. A steady pull drew me along, the fabric whispering against the ground, the figure ahead a shadow that didn’t stop."

My thoughts were in disorder, I couldn't think about anything for a while, my memory foggy, my body obviously refusing to heed to my command to move, like as if it had gone through enough hell and needed rest, ....... Ahh, yes indeed I had gone through hell, my memory all coming back to me like a speeding car hitting me," whatever a car was" I haven't seen one of those in a while, so I can't quite picture it. Looking ahead a shadow was dragging me with a steady pace, I couldn't see quite clearly, my body was obviously trying to drag me back to endless abyss of sleep, demanding I fall back too my unconscious state, I couldn't fight it, nor did I want too, so I went back into the embrace of whatever was calling me, loosing consciousness once again.

"Does anyone have an idea of the gravity of this situation.

In a room full of high ranking officials, a man with beard and a black suit was looking at everyone on the round table, not at all looking like someone in he's 70s, he was obviously brimming with vitality, and he's face was so calm, making it seem like he was addressing a bunch of kids.

"Sir, with all due respect, we still don't know if that was an Ender class SCP, for all we know, it could just be two keter class SCP battling it out.

"So are u suggesting we leave two keter class SCPs outside our strong hold to battle It out within themselves.

Looking at the man who had just spoken, the Old Man smiled at him, what a welcoming and charming smile , those who do not know of he's name will find it cute, but those who know, will be terrified to their core , that smile itself was already like death looming over your head. The man speaking shivered and didn't say anything again, no one did, everyone their just kept quiet, and didn't say anything at all.

"Send three Binders to go take a look at the place of incident, any information discovered should be sent back to the tower and right to me immediately, understood.

Looking at the powerful men in the room, as he leaned back and smiled at them all.

"Sir yes sir !!!!

They all responded and left the war room immediately.

Outside the tower.

"TSK that Old Man goes around pulling he's weight here and there, why won't he just die already, he's already Old enough, he should leave the rest to us.

Walking into what seemed like a car, but not quite, it did look like a vehicle but it was heavily guarded and seemed like a walking tank, though albeit a small one, it's called a roller, though most people can't get their hands on this kind of tech around here, getting inside while cursing against the Old Man, the other person walks in.

"You should keep it down, if u don't want to have your head severed for insubordination.

“But that Old Man just throws he's weight around, who does he think he is

"The man who went toe to toe with an Apollyon and came out untop with barely no severe injuries.

“Those were he's last achievement, he's nothing but an Old Man who stays behind the desk now.

The man didn't respond to him, seeing that the man next to him refuses to continue with he's bickering, he decides to change the topic.

"By the way what's with the report on the scout point, there's barely no information about anything that happened, the only thing in the report is a blinding light and unbearable heat, even those two points was hard to receive.

“Yeah that about sums everything on the report, there was one binder at that location, and she's a famous one actually, but she's a local, so she's sent out as a scout, though we haven't received any information from her since the incident, so it's safe to assume that she's Dead or rather lost.

"Well we should still send the Binders out to search, for information about the incident and the lost Binder as well, before that Old Man comes biting at me, TCH what a troublesome old man.

Gritting he's teeth, he lays back and rest he's head.

" That damn Old Man is such a pain in the ass

 - - -

"Why is this lad so fucking heavy

" have I being feeding this little bastard too much, so fucking heavy

Listening to the mumble of the person dragging me along, God knows how long I've being unconscious, and where are we.

Turning he's head around slightly, he could see a barren land, burnt so much the same in on the ground was dark, the air was hot and even breathing makes he's lung burn little by little, there clearly was no life signs around them, not like they'll be one after that..... He shudders has he remembered the pain he had felt and what had happened, he didn't even know how he was still alive till now, in fact he would be lying if he didn't think that it was death that was dragging him, deep along the plains of hell, had death came to pick him, well that's some kind of honor.

Not until the figure in front of him starts numbering and raises curses at him, it then struck him that he has a sister," honestly how could I have forgotten I have a sister" while he was still lost in his own thoughts, he heard her voice

"Oh little bastard, you are awake, good gracious, do u know how fucking heavy you are.

She turns her head towards him, looking at him lying down, her eyes with a hint of worry, even though it was barely shown, he could still tell, she was he's sister after all, though she was looking kinda beat, her rifle was missing, her armor was gone, though not surprising her trusty sword was still with her, sometimes he would even wonder whether she loves that sword more than him.

"So how are you feeling lad"

he looks at her, wondering what he should say, though she could tell he wasn't doing fine, even though he wasn't feeling like hell anymore, it still hurts like hell, and he was sure he's body was in a freaking bad shape, he couldn't even feel more than half of he's body, but oh well, "I'm still alive ain't I" he thinks, before answering

"Yes my dear sister, I'm as fit as a bull"

"Hahahaha, do u even know what a bull is"

He looks at her, he wished he could smack he's on head with he's hand, "she's still the same" he looks away and close he's eyes,

"I really need a proper bed".

╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭

Heat shimmered ahead, the sky quivering where it met the horizon. My boots sank with a muted crunch, each push forward tugging the cloth behind me in a slow, rasping sweep. The weight at the other end pulled at my arm like a stubborn shadow, leaving a faint scar in the sand. The desert tilted with every stride, the sun glaring harder, as if daring me to stop.

I didn’t dare to think that was the real sun, not after what had just happened.

Behind me, her brother lay on the dragging cloth — a shape half-torn from this world. No skin, muscles split open like butchered meat, veins twitching as they pumped the bare minimum of blood to keep him alive. That he was breathing at all was a miracle. A miracle no human should survive.

She stopped. The silence was heavy. Her gaze on him was sharper than the heat.

He turned his head, feeling it. “What?”

Her voice was low. “How are you alive? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re breathing. But trust me… no one survives that.”

He shrugged faintly. “Who knows. Maybe I’m not meant to die like this. Feels like I already did, though.”

“Explain.”

His eyes lingered on her. For a long time he said nothing, then:

“It’s exactly what I said. I died there. Or something close enough. I’m not talking about it. That kind of pain… I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Ever. So is that why you stopped?”

“Oh, no.” Her tone shifted, eyes narrowing past me. “We’ve got company. The bad kind.”

A pressure gripped my chest, sharp and sudden. My blood spiked; my heart pounded like it wanted out. Of course I knew what she meant. You don’t mistake that feeling when one of them is near.

An anomaly.

Not the kind you tell campfire stories about — the kind the Foundation buries in classified files.

And from the look on her face, this wasn’t a small one.

Turning her head towards me, she said :

"Stay", feeling the heat dropping around me, It felt like I was looking at one of them, Sometimes because she's my sister I end up forgetting who she really is now.

I look at her, the air felt more heavy than before," it's not like I can move anyway". Giving me a side glance, she turns away, gripping the blade at her waist. As she says :

"True".

The sand ahead shivered.

She stepped forward, the black blade in her hand catching no light, as if it drank it. The air was already a furnace, but the ground ahead steamed — heat radiating so violently it blurred her outline.

The earth erupted.

A geyser of sand burst upward, scattering grit like shrapnel. From it rose a column of flesh — pale, slick, and steaming hot, ten times hotter than the air. The heat rolled off it in waves, bending the horizon.

Her brother flinched. She didn’t.

The worm lunged. She moved — not fast, but precise — pivoting just enough for the thing to miss. The sword flashed, carving a smoking line down its side. Flesh split, hissing, but the worm’s scream was more fury than pain.

It dove back into the sand.

Her brother’s voice was tight. “It’s under—”

The ground split at her flank. She spun, blade intercepting a strike meant for him. The impact jarred her arm, forcing her back a step.

The worm withdrew. She exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing. A faint ripple crossed her skin. Her irises darkened to a deep, molten gold. The air around her seemed heavier.

When the worm lunged again, she didn’t just dodge — she vanished. One heartbeat she was in front of her brother, the next she reappeared beside the worm, sword already sinking deep into its flesh.

It shrieked, twisting violently. She tore the blade free, but its bulk slammed her aside, sending her skidding through the sand. Blood dripped from her lip. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.

Black markings crawled faintly across her cheek, forming the shape of a devilish mask.

She rose slowly, injured side protesting. “Stay down,” she told it.

The worm circled, burrowing in and out of the sand, spitting bursts of burning grit that hissed against her clothes. She batted them aside, irritation flickering across her face.

It struck from below, bursting up between them. She intercepted mid-air, her blade slicing clean through the first meter of its body. The heat scorched the edges of the wound, but the worm thrashed on.

Her breathing was ragged now. More scales spread along her forearms and neck, glinting faintly in the sun, her pupils narrowing into vertical slits.

The worm feinted left, then burst from her right, catching her off balance. She dropped low, shoving her brother aside with one arm while her sword came up in the other. The blade sank into the worm’s open mouth, black steel vanishing into steaming flesh.

A surge of heat raced up the weapon, burning her palm — but she didn’t let go. The mask fully formed now, sharp and inhuman, her voice carrying a resonance that wasn’t hers alone.

“Stay. Dead.”

She twisted the blade and ripped it free. The worm convulsed, then collapsed into the sand with a hiss like boiling water.

Silence.

Her skin smoothed, the scales receding, the mask fading until only her ragged breathing remained. She glanced at her brother.

“Euclid-class,” she muttered. “And alone. We’re lucky.”

He looks at his sister and the Euclid–class that was enough to lay waste to hundreds of humans, taken down by her alone. "Well if that's what she calls lucky".

She walks towards him, her blade already back in its sheath like it had just slayed a normal chicken, he could have sworn he felt the sword scorn at the beast, well if that wasn't he's imagination, he isn't even in the right mind... or body.

Gripping the clothes, she continues to drag him along the hot plains of sand like nothing had happened. "We need to leave, it's one of the Queen, she'll have known that one of her, pest is down".

He looks at her, he's eyes wide open." The... Queen, wasn't her spawns supposed to be outside the IRON HOLD"

Walking ahead, her boots leaving deep fissure in the sand, she answers"The blast ... Whatever it was, must have wiped more than just scout holds... the damage down is probably more than we think". She turns her ahead towards him. “How are you”

Staring at her cold eyes, only the sound of her heavy footsteps and the sound of the cloth scraping the hellish sand was what was left in the air as she turns her head back ahead,.. I answered:

"I'm not sure, I feel less pain that before, but still it hurts, so I'll be in this state for a long time I presume"

Almost immediately she answered." I think not"

Stunned by her answer, with a questioning look in my eyes, though she can't see me, her face was still facing forward, so I decided to ask. " What do you mean "

She stops once again, making my already calming heart, rise with pressure, she turns her head, looking me in the eye ever since the battle, her words leaving me stunned and not being able to react, "I think you are a Binder now.... and it seems like it was a SURVIVAL IMPRINT PROTOCOL"

I stare at her, the pressure in my heart didn't calm down like it should, since there wasn't any one of the Queen's around, looking at her as she turns her head and resumes walking, like she didn't just drop a life changing fact with a straight face too me.

" WHAT!?".