Chapter 10: Cry

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The metal door to Steven and Lithian's cell whirs open, revealing none other than – Dr Lincoln, this time however, he looked rough. His hair is messy, chips of wood and dirt covered his body and what looked to be a bruise on his cheek.

"Sheesh.. what happened 't ye? Ye look like ye jus' lost an argument with yer wife." Lithian muttered, setting down his spoon and leaned on his chair.

"One, I do not have a wife. Two–" the doctor closes the door before turning to the two men.

"Valor was throwing a fit in his containment chamber." He flicked off a chip of wood from his coat. "Because a certain someone though it would be funny to tell him that we're assigning you two as D-class personnel's." He rolled his eyes, sitting across from the two.

Steven raised an eyebrow. "As a.. what now?"

"Do you guys even know anything?"

"No 'f course not! We've only been 'ere for like.. four days." Lithian argued.

"Fair enough. So, to make things clear, D-class personnel's are test subjects, criminals on death row who deserve to die." He pointed at the door. "They're also the ones wearing the orange jumpsuits."

Both men frowned. "What 'bout us? What 'r we to ye?" Steven asked.

"That, I am not sure still." A pause. "Even then, it would make it hard for us to get answers from Valor as he would most likely throw another outburst if we turn you two into D-classes."

"Oh how thoughtful of ye." Steven said half-heartedly, a small smile on his face. Dr Lincoln frowned.

"Don't get your hopes up, this is the only time we're bein' nice to ya."

The doctor flipped through his papers, adjusting his glasses. "Steven, valor is your nephew right?"

"How did you know?" Steven eyed him suspiciously.

"Oh please, you think we haven't been listening in your conversations all this time?"

"Wow! What 'n invasion of privacy." Lithian butted in.

"Oh shut it."

Steven sighed, the doctor continues. "Anyways, do you care to elaborate on the origins of SCP-V24-B, the pickaxe."

"The.. the what?" Steven questioned.

The doctor slipped a thin sheet of paper from his small pile, offering it over to the two men. A short and simple description was written, along with a square picture of the familiar cyan weapon. Steven skimmed through it, showing slight confusion at the fare share of notes by the doctors. "For what we know of this anomalous object, an entity by the name 'herobrine' is attached to it, almost in a similar way of ghosts possessing certain objects."

Because of the continued silence by the two men, the doctor continued. "The entity also claims to be the father of SCP-V24."

"..'n who is that?" Lithian asked, dumbfounded.

"Valor of course."

They were silent. "My question is, what exactly is the origins of the pickaxe? How is Herobrine and Valor related to each other?"

Again, they were quiet. Picking their words carefully, deciding wether or not they should answer. "Steven, Lithian, answer the question!" A voice shouted from the speaker. That statement managed to tick Steven off.

"Oh shut yer mouth–! Ye can't order us around like we're sum' machines, put some effort into it will ya? What do ye even do in there?? Order yer workers around so ye can't get yer hands dirty?" He mocked the scientist, standing up from his seat and shouting at the figures behind the glass.

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They made no response, Steven only continued to glare. "That's it, I'm terminating this right no—!"

"Oh, so this is what's gonna happen aye?–" Steven approached the glass. "Wait–wait— what 'r ye doin'??" Lithian asked, confused and scared for the man's life.

"Ye call yerselves men of science??" He was fuming.

"You do not understand the concept whatsoever—"

"Don't ye dare change the topic! Ye call yerselves men of science even though yer out 'ere killin' people jus' because they don't answer a question?? Pathetic!"

He points at the scientist, shouting. "if ye really live up to yer claim, then ye should already be aware of yer own treatment towards those of yer own kind!"

"I—!..."

He took a moment to glare at the man. "I will say it again. We 'r not machines, we 'r no different from ye, which is why ye need to treat others with respect and acknowledge us as the same, we 'r not mere pests that ye can kill whenever we don't serve yer needs."

He took a moment to side eye him, mustering the best death glare-like expression. "Wipe that arrogant demeanor of yers too, trust me, it's not gonna get ya anywhere."

At that moment, Lithian was glued to his seat, Stevens shouts were the equivalent of an angry parent guilt-tripping their child for bad behavior. Mans kinda scary. The said man sets himself back on his seat, crossing his arms and sighing his last drop of anger away. Let's just say, the scientist left without a word with his supervisor.



Lithian and steven were silent as they walk down the halls, their feet reflecting a thump sound at every step, and of course, the tip of the guns directed at their back. They were heading to valor's containment chamber, in hopes that he will stop his small outbursts and finnaly cooperate with the staff. It has only been a day after Stevens lecture to the scientist who – they later found out has quitted their job as a scientist and moved on as a part of the cleaning staff instead.

The foundation staff weren't bad but not good at the same time, they were still lively. Sometimes Steven questions wether the foundation is cold or cruel, or playing pretend so then they wouldn't be at fault when someone dies, who knows? Maybe the staff are more human and less cruel as they expect them to be.

Once Valor's poster came in view, they could hear faint shouts from inside. "Alright.. keep an eye on your heads for any flying objects, I'm not paying for your medical bills." Doctor Lincoln said, his voice dull as ever.

The doctor steps in as the rest followed suit in the observation room, he looked to be talking to another researcher, Stevens elbow was nudged by a guard.

"Ey, ya'll okay?" Marco asked in a whisper, the two men nodded in response.

Quickly, they were led to a door set on one corner of the room. The first thing they noticed was the condition of the cell, the bed sheets were flung across the room, the table is half cracked, all of the items that were previously on the shelves were spread about. Why is there dirt in here? Who gave him access to dirt?

Infront of the mysterious door was what looked to be a researcher, judging by his name tag and his missing lab coat. "C'monnn! You literally despise this room, now you're locking yourself in??" The man said.

Dr Lincoln cleared his throat to catch his attention. "Gentlemen, this is Dr Ethan Finch, my research assistant who if you don't recall, is the person Lithian attacked during the breach."

Lithian looked surprised. "Well I er– so very sorry for attacking ye, lad."

Ethan waved his hand. "It's fine, as long as you don't try to kill me again.. we won't have any further problems, haha."

He quickly leaned to Lithian's ear. "Meet me in the bins and I will fight ya— haha! What a nice joke isn't it lith?"

As a way to cover up his threat, the man merely pats his back and chuckled, as the blonde had a concerned look.

Suddenly, a sluggish like sound could be heard from inside the room. "Valor if you're trying to flush yourself down the toilet – it won't work!"

The three men took a moment to give hime a weird look. "Trust me, I tried." He finished his remark.

Steven knocked on the metal door. "Valor? Boy, you in there?" He carefully asked, the door slid open and he was pulled in.

In a hug! The young man quickly hugged his uncle, Steven almost snickered at his slightly puffy red eyes. "Were ye.. crying?"

He gave a small quick nod, even though his face was stoic the redness around his eyes gave away the fact that he was crying. "Well, wipe those tears of ye." His uncle tried to assure him.

In the background, Lithian was snickering. Probably not expecting Valor to actually cry during his this tantrum of his. The man glances over at Ethan. "Will I er.. get to see my.. father, again?" He said with pauses in between.

The researcher looked at the head researcher, who gave a sigh and pinched his nose. "Only once a week, your time is also limited to only one hour."

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